How They Fell

Chapter Thirty Eight


Draco woke up gradually that morning with vague images of what had happened in the forest flitting around his subconscious. It was only when he fully came too that he remembered.

He had kissed Harry.

And he had loved it.

He lay in bed astounded at the events of last night, that it had actually happened. Then panic set in.

‘God! The things he had said! The things he had told Harry!’ He was mortified. ‘How could he? A Malfoy? Say those things to anyone? How could he tell someone so much about him? Said that he liked him!

Draco groaned as he felt shame and horror uncurl inside his chest.

Then he realised something even worse.

He had broken his promise.

The realisation felt like an icy sheet of water hitting into him. He had promised to himself that he would never touch Harry Potter, that he would have nothing to do with him, that he would never, never touch another boy in that way…And he had.

How could he have given in so easily? He had made a decision! A choice that he was not going to be close to Harry, that he could not be! It just wasn’t a possibility. He was the last remaining Malfoy and the last of the house of Black! He owed it to his family to his position. Family came first. It had been drilled into him unquestionably all his life, and it was his job to reassert the family. How was that possible if he was attracted to men? It was such a disgrace! A social stigma!

It wasn’t even as though he didn’t like girls, he thought desperately. He did! It was just that his head was filled with Harry Potter and no girl could manage to squeeze her way into it.

But that was still no excuse to…

His eyes closed, trying to block out the memory of what he had done. How tightly he had closed his eyes, how fiercely he had held on to Harry, but it was irreversible.

He felt torn. It was impossible; clearly he could not do it again! For so many reasons it was impossible! But it had felt so…

Draco shivered and goose bumps broke out all over his body.

So like he had unconsciously dreamed that kissing Harry would be. With Harry’s lips and arms on and around him he had felt blissful. The world had fallen away from around him and all that had mattered was that it was Harry kissing him like that. He could sill feel the ghost of Harry’s lips and tongue against his mouth and like last night it made him tingle deliciously.

He wanted it. Had wanted it for months. And having had it, knowing that it was a tangible possibility…it made Draco feel elated.

But then there was everything else. How could he go after it, knowing that it made everything he was brought up with completely devoid of meaning? But then it had been so wonderful.

For one of the first times in his life he didn’t know what to do. He felt lost and confused and it wasn’t good!

As he got up and got dressed he tried to think about other things but Harry wouldn’t be pushed out of his head, and nor would the problems surrounding it. By the time he was ready Draco felt like his head was buzzing and throbbing with the conflict.

Looking in the mirror he was surprised to find the scratch marks on his neck, but instead of being worried by them the first thing he thought of was the way that they had started everything. Without his own volition his fingers softly stroked the scratches in a ghostly imitation of Harry’s touch. Half disgusted with himself, half scared he strode away from the mirror and out of the room in the direction of the Hospital wing, taking care not to bump into Harry.

Madam Pomfrey sighed and tutted over the scratches but as ever refrained from demanding how he acquired them. She healed them within minuets and insisted that Draco should drink a cup of tea with her.

“You look better.” She commented almost as soon as the tea was poured.

“I am better.” Draco answered honestly with a slight smile. He knew that the question was asked because she genuinely cared for him and he was also very aware of how much he owed her. She was one of the only people he was honest with.

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes travelled over the young man in front of her. To a certain extent he was right, he was better. Once again he was the proud prince of Slytherin, tall and commanding, but underneath she knew he was different. She guessed that his outside appearance was simply a mask. From outside he seemed fine, but she wasn’t so sure about the inside. Yes he was better, but not fully healed.

The slight shadow that fell over his face confirmed this as he asked the question she knew was coming.

“How is he?”

She sighed knowing that it was not good news.

“He’s not well.”

She watched sadly as Draco blanched.

“It’s the frustration.” She explained. “Some part of him recognises that he’s been in that room for nine months, held there by people he hates. He doesn’t know it, but he feels the restraint and it…frustrates him.”

“He’s getting worse?” He asked quietly.

“No, it seems certain that his memory will stay as it is, no worse, no better. But the frustration of it has made him…angrier.” She paused. “It will mean that your visits become even more…tempestuous. It might be best if you were to keep your wand close at hand constantly when you visit him.”

Draco raised his head looking at her with surprise.

“I know it seems dreadful, but it may be necessary to ensure your safety.”

A part of Draco felt relieved that the incident of last November couldn’t happen again, another part felt deeply saddened that such measures were needed. Even insane his father was still infuriated by him and he didn’t even know the thing that would make him disgusted with his son forever. He let out a small snort of pained laughter which seemed to leave his chest feeling empty and hollow.

Taking a deep breath of air he raised his eyes to Madam Pomfrey, thanked her for looking after his father, and made to leave, but he was stopped.

“There is one more thing.” Madam Pomfrey announced.

“Yes?”

“I’m curious to know -, you have claimed your inheritance haven’t you?”

He looked at Madam Pomfrey curiously.

“Yes, we are hopefully coming towards the end of the process. Why?”

She shrugged.

“No particular reason, just the importance and prominence of the Malfoy and Black titles.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to worry, I understand. I’m needed as a human porn in Dumbledore’s political chess game with the ministry.”

“His motives are not quite that inhuman Draco.” Madam Pomfrey reproved him gently.

“No, not quite.” Draco answered with a bitter twist to his mouth. Seeing the concerned look on the face of the nurse he continued. “But you shouldn’t worry, I’ll do what is required. But for the present I should go to lunch.”

“Of course, drop by and visit me whenever you need to.”

Draco nodded and left.

He didn’t get far.

He crashed into someone and felt a dull roaring begin in his ears as he looked down to see Harry Potter. He swallowed, panic filling his every pour. He wasn’t ready for this! He didn’t know what to do! He hadn’t decided!

“I was looking for you.”

His eyes met Harry’s green ones and he felt himself blush. He didn’t know what to do with himself, he just waited for Harry to say something.

“I’m sorry for banging into you. I didn’t see you.”

‘God he felt like a fool! How could one boy make him feel this way?’ A coil of anger sprang up from nowhere. ‘He was a Malfoy!’ He almost wailed, ‘this wasn’t supposed to happen!’ He tried to snap back a response to Harry, but somehow it didn’t quite work. He couldn’t get the right tone of voice and his heart leapt within him when he heard Harry’s low chuckle.

“Yes…I was in a bit of a rush…I – I wanted to make sure that you were ok with last night.”

Against his will his eyes seemed to meld with Harry’s gaze. He swallowed again, helplessly undecided as Harry moved slowly towards him.

“So…Are you ok with it?”

He felt every cell as they seemed to pull him towards Harry. He was drawn to him, looking down at Harry, with him so close, he had never seemed more perfect. It was like being lost in a sea of green. And then softly Draco felt a small breath of air against his lips. It undid him and he leant forward and pressed his mouth against Harry’s.

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon he was suspended, blissfully caught in the smell and the touch and the gaze of Harry and it was wonderful and Draco didn’t know how he had managed to deny it to himself for so long.

For once in his life he let himself let go. He let all of the guilt and all of the responsibility that had seemed to determine who he was, disappear. It was like falling, and it made him smile more and laugh harder, made their kisses more passionate and the afternoon passed in a haze of contentment.

But later when he found himself alone in his room again all the doubts and worries he had felt that morning came back to him again. Once more he felt torn between how wonderful and natural it felt to be with Harry and what he was brought up to honour. By his families standards he should be disinherited for what he was doing, but as Blaise had pointed out, there was no one to disinherit him. Did that make it acceptable though? Just because it was possible should he do it?

The progress of his inheritance added another layer of complications. He was now coming into the title and the position that he had been trained so severely for, and it was impossible to completely deny all of the instructions and expectations that his father had placed upon him. But every time he met up with Harry intending to end it he wouldn’t be able to. Something Harry said or did, or even just the way he smiled at him, always prevented him.

The friendship between them also made it more confusing, as Draco couldn’t bring himself to object to it. For a while it allowed him to try to believe that they were mostly just friends, and that the majority of that first week was spent relaying the foundations of that friendship. Surely it was fine to be friends with Harry, no one could object to that? However, as the days passed Draco couldn’t attempt to hide the pleasure he felt in kissing and touching Harry from himself any longer. But by then it had become such a necessity, such a highlight in his day that any thought of denying it was ignored.

The relative ease with which he could push everything aside shocked Draco. Yes, he knew that he still had doubts and when Harry left him they would still haunt him, but the enjoyment he felt in getting to know Harry and spending time with him helped to dispel them more and more frequently. From then on he felt more content with how things were progressing, and he now allowed himself to look forward to meeting Harry. However there were still moments of tension, one of which was when Harry had so calmly sat down opposite him in the library. Draco couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and panic immediately welled up inside him. Another moment was when Harry had grabbed him from behind and pushed him into a closet. But in each case all his consternation was quickly removed, either by Harry’s infectious smile or the feeling of his lips on his.

For Draco those two and a half weeks went very quickly due to his ridiculously busy schedule. Not only was there Harry, Quidditch, his Head’s duties, his homework and the ruling of Slytherin house, but he also had to fit in time to visit his lawyers and the ministry due to his inheritance case.

The ministry did not want Draco to become Lord Malfoy in the midst of what was rapidly turning into a war. The amount of political influence that the title held and the fact that his father was a known death eater meant that time and time again the ministry brought up disputes over small petty issues. However with Dumbledore’s support and the best wizarding lawyers the case was gradually making headway. But the process often demanded Draco’s presence for signatures and for acceptance of the measures being taken, so he would frequently find that he would have to Apparate to London for a couple of hours. This was allowed by Dumbledore, but only with the proviso that Snape would accompany him. It was presented as a measure to ensure his safety and as necessary to have a legal guardian with him, however Draco knew why he was really there and although he liked his godfather, his presence still rankled.

The morning of the Saturday when Harry pulled him into the cupboard Draco had spent at the ministry overhearing the case as it was put to the court. Such a measure in a matter of inheritance was previously unheard of, and as Draco looked across at the Wizengamot he knew that they were aware of this fact.

It relieved him to know that he recognised all of them and personally knew a vast majority. They were friends that his parents had cultivated over the years and many themselves came from old wizarding families. However, he also knew that there were those who would do anything to reject the case, old enemies of his father, close supporters of the ministry and personal friends of Fudge. He knew it would be a close call.

He sat patiently listening to the elaborately formal opening of the Wizengamot. The speeches went on and on, introducing each member of the Wizengamot and all five representatives from the ministry of Births, Deaths and Inheritance. His eyes travelling over the ornate calved wood in which the room was decorated. He supposed that at least he was given the compliment of fighting for his title and lands in the First courtroom.

He could hear Snape shifting around uncomfortably in one of the wooden benches behind him and had to prevent himself from smiling. His chair was also horribly uncomfortable, but he didn’t have the freedom to sit how he liked, he had to present the image of the perfect Malfoy heir. Glancing down briefly at his legs and chest he knew he was dressed in a manner that would have had the Weasley’s eyes out on stalks and an approving nod from his mother.

His interest in his surroundings and his clothes disappeared promptly as the ministry’s lawyer stood and began to speak. Draco could feel the anger rise up inside him as the lawyer repeated slanders against his family over and over again. His father was a proven death eater, a murdering bastard; who was to say that his son was any different? There was no proof that Lord Malfoy was dead. No body had been found; it was likely that he was still in hiding, still serving you-know-who. The entire family was rotten, dark wizards all the way through; and besides the old families were dying out, the wizarding community no longer needed their patriotism and their manipulation.

Draco gritted his teeth and fumed inwardly but all the while ensuring that his face stayed passive. He would do his very best not to give them any more reason to reject his application. It struck him as he sat there that this was the real challenge to his upbringing. He had to be perfect, lordly and imposing, yet not objectionably so; he still needed to suggest friendliness and openness. He needed to be his grandfather, and he preyed to whatever benevolent force was out there that he would succeed.

Finally the proposition stopped speaking. With the grace and power of long years of practice Draco rose, eyes up, focused on the Wizengamot, as he stood to his full height.

“Firstly, I would like to apologise to you all for taking you away from you weekends. Especially for what must seem like a superfluous case that the ministry of Births, Deaths and Inheritance should have been able to deal with itself.” He saw the ministry representative bristle out of the corner of his eye.

“However, this is a very important case, not only for myself but also as a representative for all following inheritance cases. If the court decides to accept the ministry’s obstruction, then you are giving free reign to the ministry to control and decide who should inherit what and when.” He paused to emphasise his point. “Not only does this open up the possibility for an awful lot of corruption, but I fancy that not many of you would like to have your sons and daughters disinherited because some unnamed power high up in the ministry has decided they are not acceptable.” He fixed the members of the old families with a firm eye.

“As for acceptability, there have been a great number of unfounded charges and accusations aimed at me and my family. Yes my father was a Death Eater, yes many of my ancestors have sought power through the use of dark magic. But not all. The ministry seems remarkably quick to forget that for many generations members of my family have acted as pillars of the wizarding community. We have had five Ministers for Magic, three of which were seen as exemplary. There have been two headmasters of Hogwarts and many, many governors. Seventeen Orders of Merlin, four of which were First Class. The lists of ministers, healers and patrons from my family is enormous. Clearly the old wizarding families should and do have a place in the wizarding world. There have been some dark wizards in the family, but the massive generalisations just made by the ministry representative screams of ingratitude and the inability to look beyond prejudiced opinions.”

He paused his eyes fixing on one member after another.

“As for myself? I am guessing that what everyone wants to know, and what this case really centers around is whether or not I am a death eater? Do I follow my father in his beliefs? Will I use my inheritance to undermine and weaken the ministry? I know that what ever I say some of you will refuse to believe me, and to a certain extent I cannot blame you after the lies my father has sworn to you over the years. But I am not my father!”

He violently pushed up his sleeve revealing his unblemished forearm.

There were mutterings around the room, many cautious, some disbelieving, but a barked sentence from Draco’s right drew his attention.

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

The room hushed as everyone turned to stare at one of the deputy ministers in the front row.

Draco also turned slowly to face him.

“Doesn’t mean anything?” He asked with forced calmness. He paused, then laughed bitterly. “Doesn’t mean anything? What it means is that for the last few years I have been wracking my brains for a way to refuse my father and all he expected of me! I have been secretly opposing him and every minuet risking my life where I to be found out! Do you think he would have hesitated to kill me? Who has killed so many others before? He would not! Let me reiterate, I am not a death eater, nor do I ever want to become one! As proof of this I have the support of Professor Dumbledore, who apologies for his inability to be hear to day, but who sent this letter.”

Draco stood waiting as the letter was read out by one of his lawyers, eyes constantly running over and assessing the group of wizards before him. When the letter finished he thanked the lawyer and once again moved forward to continue.

“I don’t feel that I need to remind you of the many cases where heading Professor Dumbledore’s opinions have turned out to be by far the wisest course of action. As to the other obstacles that the ministry have thrown in the path of my inheritance, they are clearly using the dregs at the bottom of the barrel. As anyone remotely aware of the law knows, the fact that it is unknown whether my father is dead or alive makes no difference to this case. He was stripped of his title and his position after it was proved he was a Death Eater, upon my seventeenth birthday last summer the title of Lord Malfoy and my inheritance ought to have passed straight on to me! It did not, and it still does not because of the ministry’s continuing obstruction to the law. And this is a point that I want to make very clear to everyone; there is no legal basis for preventing the course of my inheritance! The delay the ministry has caused is in fact illegal by their own laws of succession, the only reasons for this ‘legal oversight’ are the unfounded accusations and fears of the ministry which I hope have been laid firmly to rest…Thank you.”

His glance swept once more across the assembly of wizards in front of him before he turned, and straight backed walked calmly but forcefully back to his seat.

The proceedings continued on around him for another hour or so before the court was adjourned and the Wizengamot left to consider the case. It was not expected for them to make their decision before the end of the week. Draco stood and strode purposely out of the courtroom closely followed by Snape. They walked in silence up to the Apparation point and Apparated to appear in front of the school gates.

Draco paused uneasily for a minuet, remembering the first time he had Apparated to this point. But he pushed the memory aside and followed Snape though the gate and up the path in silence.

Eventually, when they were almost half way to the castle, Snape spoke.

“It’s a strong case. The lawyers worked hard.”

Draco nodded his assent. They continued up the driveway to Hogwarts.

“You spoke well to day Draco. They will not now be able to easily dismiss you as a death eater. You did well.”

Draco paused, accepting and appreciating the praise for what it was. He felt that he had done his best today and hoped that he had done his grandfather proud.

“Thank you Severus. I hope that it was enough. And now, I have Quidditch practice.”

Snape smiled as they strolled along together. “It will do you good, release some of the frustration that that must have caused you.”

“Yes. Thank you for your – support.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at Draco’s emphasis, but Draco quickly smiled and said goodbye.

* * *

Draco spent the rest of that day and the morning of the following worrying about the case. The possibility of his being disinherited was unthinkable. He didn’t know what he would do if the ministry took it away from him. It was the only thing he had left. It simply couldn’t happen, and yet it was a possibility. He knew that if the ministry was successful, then it would only be temporarily, they could be sued for just misconduct and the case could always be taken to the European wizarding courts, but any delay would severely weaken his position.

The only thing that helped take his mind off it was Harry and their meeting after dinner on Sunday. Draco was looking forward to just being with him and letting everything that he was worrying about just slide off his shoulders. However, before that he had to pay his weekly trip to his father.

He wished that just for this week he could skip it, just go straight down to dinner and then see Harry, but he knew that he should go. It was a duty, and he couldn’t completely turn his back on everything to do with his family. So, reluctantly he made his way up the stairs to the corridor and entered the room.

As normal his father was sitting his armchair reading the same book, and as ever he looked up when Draco pushed open the door.

“Good afternoon father.”

“You didn’t knock! Stupid boy, I might have been busy.” Came Lucius’s icy voice. Draco had to restrain a sigh. It always started the same.

“I’m sorry father, I didn’t want to do anything that might attract the ministry’s attention. We think they planted bugging spells last time they searched the house.”

“The ministry is inept. You needn’t worry about them, a little blackmail and a little careful ‘encouragement’ in certain quarters and they overlook most things.”

“Yes father.” Draco replied dutifully, trying to push the knowledge that this was exactly why the case was now being disputed to the back of his mind.

“You are a Malfoy, yet you fear them?”

“Of course not father! I just don’t want to risk your discovery.”

Lucius grunted. “You may be seated.”

With pretended meekness Draco made his way over to the other chair.

“And how are your studies progressing?” Lucius asked once he was seated.

Without thought Draco repeated the same line that he had used every week for the last five months.

“Severus has taken over my tuition in that respect, sir. He say’s I am an able pupil. We have covered all of the basic curses and are now beginning to move onto the more complex hexes. I find him a hard task master-.”

“Good, your laziness needs no encouraging.”

Draco almost bristled as he thought about how busy he had been in the last few weeks trying to prevent the ministry from utterly destroying their family’s nobility.

“Yes sir.” He ground out through gritted teeth.

It was unfortunate that Lucius was still as perceptive as ever.

“You dislike me casting slurs against your work?”

Draco was suddenly furious with the enforced pretence of it all. Having to deny who he now was, having to make believe that Lucius was still the authoritative one, when in reality it was him, annoyed him like never before.

“Yes father.” He said squarely meeting his father’s eyes.

There was a horrible pause as Lucius digested his retort. Then in an ice-cold voice he spoke.

“You think my illness has weakened me? You think that now you can be openly discourteous to me?” He questioned rising to his feat.

“No father.” Draco replied standing too.

“Liar!” He hissed as he strode towards him, until they were almost nose to nose.

It would have terrified Draco even a week ago for this to have happened, but some part of him had become wild and impulsive. He faced his father and drew himself up to his full height, meeting his father glare for glare, eye to eye.

He could see the surprise in Lucius’s eyes as he looked directly at the son who was now the same height as him.

“I’m not lying!”

Draco watched as his fathers face morphed into one of absolute hate. With a snarl Lucius pulled out his wand and screeched, “crucio!”

Thousands of thoughts and feelings flooded through Draco as he heard that word. He blinked, nothing had happened. Lucius stood there flabbergasted, his wand still pointed at his son’s chest.

“Stupify!”

Draco spun around in time to see his father hit straight in the chest by Snape’s curse.

There was a pause as Lucius slumped to the floor, ungraceful and inelegant.

“You must have really annoyed him.” Snape said mildly.

“Yes, I think so.” Draco answered rather quietly.

“You needn’t have worried, we removed his wand a long time ago. That’s just a piece of wood.”

Draco nodded and sat down heavily. He had been foolish to be scared.

“What happened to make him get so angry?”

Draco looked up into Snape’s concerned eyes and realised how odd the expression looked there.

“I got bored with playing this stupid game.”

Snape’s forehead creased even further.

“That’s not like you.”

“Isn’t it?”

Snape sat down in Lucius’s chair and shrugged. Some part of Draco’s brain was finding it hard to deal with the image in front of him, Snape sitting perfectly calmly in Lucius’s chair with his father lying at his feet, his nose pressed up against the carpet so that it was scrunched to the side. It stuck him then just how far Lucius had fallen.

“Why did you stupefy him?”

“It was necessary.”

Draco looked at Snape waiting for him to continue.

“Dumbledore sent me. He told me that you’d be here.” It amused Draco to see how annoyed this fact made his Godfather.

“The ministry sent word.”

Draco started in surprise. The Wizengamot weren’t expected to come to a decision for at least a couple of days! Such a quick decision was most definitly out of the ordinary.

“And.”

What passed for a smile crossed Snape’s face.

“The Ministry’s proposal was thrown out. Quite violently apparently.”

Draco felt his body sink into the armchair. “Good.”

“The Wizengamot also insisted that the ministry pay you the amount of money that the family lost over the period that the inheritance was held.”

Draco smirked.

“And the, um, minister for the department of Births, Deaths and Inheritance, and the Minister for Magic’s secretary seemed most anxious to meet with you.”

Draco’s eyebrows rose at the gleam of satisfaction in Snape’s eyes.

“When I explained that I would happily pass on any message, they made it clear that in order to keep this ‘private business’ out of the eyes of the public they would be very happy to come to some sort of agreement.”

“A financial one?”

“They implied that much. Yes.”

Draco allowed a definite smirk to cross his face.

“Would you mind acting in my stead on this matter?”

Snape’s smile became feral as he flicked his wand making a quill and parchment appear. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Perhaps something along the lines of: to…whoever, as you will no doubt be aware I have recently come into quite a bit of money. The exact amount I am sure you are familiar with. At present I’m therefore afraid that I have no need for any more…After all with such plenty I should be perfectly satisfied with what I have. However, in the interests of maintaining the Ministry’s ‘sparkling reputation,’ I would be willing to keep certain details out of the sight of the press; that is for as long as the ministry remains grateful for my co-operation. If this proposal is not found to be acceptable then I would appreciate it if you would send word before the publication of tomorrow’s papers. Yours sincerely Draco Malfoy etc etc.”

Snape’s head snapped up. “You mean Lord Malfoy?”

“Yes…that’s what I meant.”

There was a pause as Snape finished writing, read over it and put the letter in his pocket.

“Yes, it’s very…fitting. Well then that’s done then. There is just one thing.”

“Yes?”

“The ring.”

Draco felt as though a long time passed before he was able to answer.

“Oh.”

With a swift, dismissive move Snape bent down and carelessly pulled an ornate golden ring of Lucius’s finger. He then stood and walked over to Draco, dropping it into his hand with a nod.

Draco simply looked at it in his hand. It looked so odd to see it when it wasn’t connected to his father. He had never really seen it as a separate entity before. Cupped gently in his own hand it looked bigger and more ornate, with large golden swirls surrounding the family crest.

“And now Lord Malfoy.” Draco’s head snapped up. “If you don’t mind I need to take your father down to the hospital wing for Madam Pomfrey to run some tests.”

Draco nodded absent-mindedly.

“Good evening.”

“Yes – And Severus?”

He waited for his godfather to turn.

“Thank you for your help.”

Snape nodded once and left with Lucius floating along behind him.

* * *

Draco didn’t go down to the great hall for dinner, but stayed in the empty room thinking and toying absentmindedly with the ring.

The room seemed so empty and so harmless without his father in it. He wondered how any part of him could have come to view it with dread; it was almost cosy.

Draco looked down at the ring in his hand. He was Lord Malfoy. The thing that his father had been drilling him for his entire life had happened. It was odd, he had had so much preparation, so many expectations, and when it finally happened it was so simple, exactly the same as all the other Lord Malfoy’s, a ring taken from his father’s unconscious fingers. It was done. With firm decision he slid the band of gold onto his finger. His eyes closed unconsciously and he drew in a deep breath. But when he opened them the world was exactly the same, nothing had changed.

His mouth quirked into a self-depreciating smile. He had been silly. He pushed himself swiftly up from the armchair and strode out of the room to find Harry.

He waited in the empty entrance hall for Harry to come and lead him to somewhere where they could be alone, but he was no longer looking forward to their meeting. His mind was still flitting back to the room, the moment when he had looked into his father’s eyes expecting to be crusioed. When Snape had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and cast stupefy. How funny and sad his father had looked with his face squidged into the carpet. Without really thinking about it he followed Harry, thinking now about the courtroom and the mutters of distrust. Draco wasn’t deluded enough to think that winning the case meant that the ministry trusted him, the hassle that would result in trying to deny him his inheritance was just to big for them to do anything other than throw out the case.

At one point he stopped dead in his tracks as realisation filled him. The ring directly symbolised his position of head of the house of Malfoy, but he had also been granted his Black inheritance. Both names were tarnished in the view of the wizarding world, but to him his Black inheritance meant infinitely more to him. It was where his mother came from and it was the side that he head begun to identify himself with. He was the head of the house of Black and he was going to do the thing properly!

He noticed that Harry was standing waiting for him. With an effort he pushed all of those thoughts out of his head and smiled. He watched relief flick over Harry’s face and realised that the time had come when they would have to talk about everything they had been escaping from. He sighed under his breath even as he leaned down to kiss Harry.

“Why the hell have you dragged me up here Harry?” He asked, wondering where on earth in the castle they were. To his amusement Harry smirked as he answered.

“Wanted to show you something.” He said mysteriously.

Draco was amazed by the amount of Slytherin in Harry, especially as he was meant to embody all that was Gryffindor. However out of the two of them Draco knew that he was definitly more Slytherin. He refused to rise to the bait.

Eventually Harry huffed. “Fine then.” He said, before taking his hand and leading him to a blank piece of wall. Harry nudged the middle of the wall with his wand and Draco realised with surprise that it was just a pair of curtains pretending.

Harry opened them up and Draco walked through to see one of the most beautiful sights he had ever experienced. The ground of Hogwarts with the sun setting over the wooded hills with brightly coloured clouds reflected in the lakes’ clear surface.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Said Harry as he came to stand beside him. Draco could feel his skin tingle at their proximity.

“Very.”

He heard the regret in Harry’s voice as he spoke about leaving Hogwarts and it seemed to add to his own sadness. He was aware that the ring on his finger signalled that any trace of his remaining childhood was gone. Hogwarts had been such a big part of childhood for everyone. He thought what a sanctuary Hogwarts had turned out to be for him and was surprised to hear Harry echo his thoughts.

“It’s become a haven, and will become more so.”

Draco could feel the conversation bordering on the serious and was afraid for a moment that it was going to tip over and they would be forced to face what was happening around them, but as though reading his mind Harry steered it away.

“I’ve never been to anywhere quite like Hogwarts.” Harry continued.

“Neither have I.” Said Draco, turning finally to meet Harry’s earnest eyes. Again he could sense the conversation veering towards the serious, but this time it was he who pulled it away.

They stood in silence for a moment each thinking their own thoughts.

“You know,” Harry interrupted, “we really should go out together some time, in our animagus forms I mean.”

Draco turned to look at him, considering. “Yes, that could be interesting.”

“I wonder which of us would be faster?”

“Panther obviously!” Draco replied promptly.

“You know, I don’t think so.”

“Really Potter?” He asked raising a cool eyebrow. He could sense that this was Harry’s more Slytherin side coming out and it made him tingle with anticipation.

“Yes, in fact I think I’d be happy to make a bet on that.”

“Oh.” Said Draco taking a step closer, his whole body flushed with heat. “And what would you be willing to bet.”

“Why don’t we decide that later.” Harry replied pulling Draco close to him, one eyebrow raised, before kissing Draco deeply.

Draco kissed back with equal ferocity, revelling in the feeling of Harry and the wonder of drowning everything else out. When Harry’s hand caressed him, moving down to rest on his buttock he could feel the anticipation growing as his stomach filled with butterflies. In response he pressed himself more firmly into Harry, enjoying the feeling of their hard bodies pressing together. A part of Draco couldn’t believe how passionate their kiss was, their tongues exploring and sliding over each other. He couldn’t express how marvellous it felt to feel Harry cling and shift his hips against him and the pleasure he felt in pressing back into Harry. He heard Harry’s low moan and the excitement he felt filled him completely.

They continued to grind together, their pleasure rising when Draco felt Harry pull back slightly, then softly brush his fingers against the material covering his crotch. He felt the bolt of pleasure it sent flying round his body and simultaneously a wave of shock. His body froze.

He knew then with dead certainty that he couldn’t do this. It tore through him that no matter how much he liked Harry, however much he loved spending time with him – he couldn’t do this. The Malfoy crest was on his hand. His eyes squeezed closed as he realised what he would have to do.

He felt Harry draw back, knew how he would look, concern covering his face.

“Draco?”

He forced himself to open his eyes, trying to convey all of the things that he didn’t want to have to say. But all he saw in Harry’s face was confusion and uncertainty. With a sigh he began.

“We should talk.”

Harry met his eyes steadily, but he didn’t say anything.

“I – I. There are problems.”

Harry sighed, “I know.”

“But not just little ones, big ones.”

“Voldemort, the war, different houses, the fact that we’re meant to hate each other? Draco I know things are stacked against us, and that we are going to have to talk about it eventually, but it will all be fine, I promise.” He said before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Draco’s slender frame.

Against his own volition Draco could feel his body tense at Harry’s touch even though it was nothing more than friendly. With gentle firmness he pushed Harry’s arms aside, averting his eyes so he didn’t have to see the hurt on Harry’s face.

“It’s more than that.” He said sadly.

“It is?”

Draco met Harry’s eyes and felt horribly conflicted. Gently he nodded his head. “Yes.”

Harry sat down hard on the window seat, one hand rumpling his hair in frustration.

“What? Why?” Harry asked evidently trying to contain his annoyance.

Draco paced furiously for a minuet. He didn’t want to say this! He didn’t want to explain himself to Harry! But as he met Harry’s eyes he couldn’t help but remember the last time he had done this, brutally in a corridor without any explanation. An image of how Harry had looked as he turned away flashed across his mind and he knew that he couldn’t do that to Harry again. He owed him more this time.

With forced calmness he went and sat on the window seat opposite Harry.

“I – I…I’m not allowed to do this.”

There was a pause.

“What?” Harry’s question was half laughed, and his face showed the beginnings of relief.

Draco closed his eyes. “I – I’m not allowed…to be attracted to men.”

He heard Harry’s amused exhalation and his eyes rose up to meet Harry’s. Harry stilled.

“Explain.”

“I.” He sighed and held out his right hand, palm down, the gold ring gleamed softly in the setting sun. “I inherited the title of Lord Malfoy.”

Harry’s eyes focused on the ring understanding the significance, but not the reasoning behind what Draco was saying.

“The family is practically ruined. We are seen as disgraces to the name of wizard. Do you understand? I have to…to build the name back to its full strength. I owe it, it’s my duty, I tried to deny it, but I can’t – not now.”

Harry was leaned forward, sympathy radiating out of his eyes. He tried to reach for Draco’s hand, but he moved it back.

“Do you understand? If it were ever known that I…that I was attracted to men – it would destroy everything. I can’t do it. The risk is too great.”

“We would keep it secret! I promise, no one will know a thing.” Harry said forcefully, the earnestness in his eyes threatening to drown Draco.

Draco forced himself to pause so that he couldn’t respond impulsively. He smiled sadly. “Thank you Harry. But you can’t guarantee it. And there’s more to it. I…I physically can’t! Not when it risks so much. Not when just being with you is such an insult to my family – it, it makes me go cold. I’m sorry Harry. I – I did want this…I really did.” He leaned forward as though to squeeze Harry’s hand, but stopped himself.

“Can you understand?”

“I – Draco – it?” Harry’s eyes were frantically searching his for any sign of indecision or joviality. Draco watched Harry as he found none.

“Does it have to be like this?” Harry asked quietly. Then: “is that really it?”

“Yes Harry.” He said softly nodding once. “I’m sorry. I wish I could explain it better…” He stopped and tried again. “I didn’t want…” But Harry was shaking his head.

“I’m so sor-.” He began again but he was interrupted.

Harry looked at him and he saw disbelief and a cold edge in his eyes.

“I can’t believe…no. You know what? Go…just go.”

He looked into Harry’s eyes once more, saw the seriousness there and left.


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Author's note: *hides under the duvet, shaking lightly*