The Amourette
A Battle of the Minds
Title: The Amourette
Author: silverXserpent
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK. Rowling. No money is being from this story in any way.
[Chapter Four] Battle of the Minds
Harry lay tossing and turning in his sleep, not really dreaming of anything but he was in pain. It was impossible to tell whether it was physical or mental, but it was pain nonetheless. He felt uncomfortably hot as if his body was on fire and his unconscious self was crying out words that he couldn’t quite hear.
His nails, digging sharply into the flesh of his palm, was what woke him from this terrifying state.
His eyes shot open and he gasped for breath desperately, trying to calm his racing heart and heaving lungs. It took him a while to finally be able to see his surroundings somewhat vaguely and it was then that he noticed that he was laying sprawled on the sofa and not in his bed.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his sweat glistening forehead with a trembling hand. His mind was too confused to think about anything, let alone remember why the hell he was in fact still in yesterday’s clothing.
Everything was completely still around him. There were no annoying thumps coming from the residence below him. There was no sound of zooming cars in the street outside. There was no blinding morning sunlight streaking through the gap in the curtained windows. He slowly opened his eyes again and turned his head weakly toward the digital clock sitting atop the coffee table in front of the sofa.
The red flashing numbers read; 5:02 am.
He sighed and rolled over, deciding that it was too early to be awake. But p nep never claimed him again when his mind began rewinding at breakneck speed and suddenly, images of the previous night were zipping before his eyes. A horrified sinking feeling invaded his body and he felt as if he was frozen and stuck to the sofa. The pounding of his veins could have matched the speed of a shooting bullet and the silent noise was deafening in his ears.
What if the man in the other room heard the insane beating of his heart? What if he woke up and came charging into the room this very moment? It was even a surprise that Harry was still alive.
Thinking rationally was completely out of the question. He didn’t even have his wand. In fact, his wand was hidden in the secret cabinet in his bedroom along with all his other magical trinkets, but the lock on the door could easily be broken by a wizard. The only danger up until now had been muggles and so he hadn’t bothered to put a strong anti-opening spell on it.
He was completely oblivious to the fact that his lip was bleeding and swelling slowly in size from biting on it too hard.
How long he remained this way was unknown to Harry but the minute some of his senses returned to his paralysed being, he practically tumbled off of the sofa and onto the cold wooden floor in his hurry to reach his mobile which was lying exactly where he’d dropped it the night before.
With trembling hands, he tried to punch in the correct numbers on the tiny key pad but the phone was shaking so much that he kept missing and jabbing at the wrong keys.
His throat let out a frustrated noise and he attempted again. On his fourth try, he finally got it right and frantically waited for the person on the other side to pick up.
One ring. Harry tried to inhale without choking.
Second ring. Harry’s fingers tightened painfully ad thd the small phone.
Third ring. It seemed to take an eternity for the ring to end.
Please pick up! He thought as he sent frightened glances over his shoulder toward the closed bedroom door across the living room.
When he was about to give up, the line clicked and a sleepy and muffled voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Hermione?” he breathed, his voice quivering.
There was a pause and then loud shuffling.
“Harry?” Hermione’s voice hissed. “Harry? What’s wrong?”
“Hermione....” he said, speaking in a barely audible whisper. “I- I...”
“Harry. What’s wrong??” her voice sounded urgent and very worried. “Are you okay? What’s happened? Are you hurt?”
“N-no.” he replied. He realised that he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about last night, and the fact that their most wanted and searched for suspect was sleeping only paces away.
“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”
“Oh god.” he murmured, running his free hand through is hair. “I d-don’t know what to do... I-I can’t....”
“HARRY? What in the name of Merlin is going on? Should I go over there? Harry please! Tell me!”
Harry picked himself off of the floor jerkily and stumbled into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter to support his weight since his legs were about to give out at any second.
“Hermione? He’s- he’s.....” Harry stuttered and gulped. “He’s here.”
“Who is?”
“M-Malfoy.”
Hermione gave a sharp gasp and there was silence.
“H-he’s there?” she echoed faintly, obviously not knowing what to say. “Harry? Did he hurt you? Are you-”
“No... he’s not armed and he’s not conscious...” Harry said nervously. “He just... appeared at my door last night and then he blacked out...”
Harry slid down to the floor wearily and groaned.
“Oh god Hermione... What am I supposed to do?” Harry knew the answer to that question but he couldn’t help but feel completely lost and helpless.
“Harry...”
“I know I should’ve called Pat but I had to call you first....” he cut in. “But I guess I should call him now-”
“Wait Harry-” hermione said hastily. “I-I’m not saying that Pat shouldn’t know about this but... maybe ... maybe it would be better to watch him for a while...”
Harry frowned and gripped the phone even tighter. So tight that his knuckles were turning blue.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“Well, he’s not armed, he’s unconscious, and even if we arrested him now, we’d have to use Veritaserum even though it’s illegal to use it unless we have proof to support our intentions... I just think it would be wiser to try and get information from him without all the complications...”
Harry gave a disbelieving laugh.
“Complications? Y-you can’t be serious! I- I can’t.... He can’t stay here!”
“Harry listen. I just don’t think we should jump to conclusions. It could be risky but I really can’t bring myself to believe that he’s guilty. Can you?”
Harry ignored the question and tried to keep his voice lowered despite the anger that was mounting in his chest.
“I can’t Hermione.” he said flatly. “And you know that.”
“You don’t know what Pat might do if you turn him over Harry. He might not even give Draco a fair trial. He has enough power to throw him straight into Azkaban!”
“Then let him do what he wants. He knows best and I bloody don’t give a fuck what happens to Malfoy.” he spat coldly. “He deserves it.”
“Do you really mean that?” Hermione asked softly. “Do you really think that he killed all those muggles48;<48;
Harry’s mouth opened to say “yes”, but for some reason, the word got lost on it’s way to his mouth.
“I don’t know.” he said instead.
“Then give him a chance. Let him tell you the truth himself. If anyone can do that, it’s you.”
“I can’t.” he said again. “He hates me Hermione. He doesn’t care a shit about me just like I don’t care a shit about him. Having him here will just dig up old memories that I don’t want to remember.”
“You’re running away from your past Harry.” Hermione said in that same tone that made Harry want to scream in frustration.
Harry snorted angrily.
“I’m running away? He’s the one that bloody ruined my life! He’s the one that ran away and hid himself from the world all these years because people want him in prison!”
He heard Hermione sigh exasperatedly.
“Fine then, Harry. Do what you think is best. After all, you are in charge of this case. I still want to get more sleep so you deal with it alone. Goodbye Harry.”
“Hermione, wai-”
There was a click and Harry groaned through gritted teeth and tossed the phone onto the counter.
God dammit. What the hell am I supposed to do? He thought. She can’t be serious... I’t...
He sat there on the kitchen floor for a long time, knowing that he really had no choice. He wanted to get this off his hands and leave it to someone like Pat to deal with it but he also knew that there was a small part of him that was too cowardly to do so. he cursed his unstable self-control and tried to think of the situation optimistically although everything inside of him felt entirely opposite.
If you can get Malfoy to spill the truth, you can send him straight to Azkaban instead of messing around with the laws and using Veritaserum. A voice said inside his head. Either way he’s going to end up in the Ministry’s hands so why not be rewarded by Pat while you’re at it? Like Hermione said, this is your case.
But a second more stubborn voice washed over the other.
Stop lying to yourself. You know that you don’t care a shit about Pat’s praise. Why are you really doing this?
To prove that I’m one hell of a good Auror! Harry fumed. What other reason would there be?
Must you ask?
You’re just running...
Running away...
Avoiding the truth and the pain...
But tell me.
What are you really running from?
“Shut up!” he bellowed outloud. His voice cut through the still air like a knife and he winced.
Oh crap. Oh crap. He shut his eyes and listened anxiously for any other noises but thankfully, there were none. Harry let out a sigh and pushed himself off of the floor.
What to do now? he pondered as he began pacing back and forth in the dining room. I guess I should just wait until he wakes up.
With nothing else to do, he returned to the living room sofa and turned on the TV at minimum volume to pass the time.
The next two hours, he just let the light buzzing of the TV wash over him. He wasn’t really watching any of it; his eyes were blank and staring, and his mind was completely elsewhere. He tried to concentrate on the morning soap reruns but his thoughts kept drifting off and soon, he wasn’t even aware of when one show ended and the other began.
When he was finally able to halt his whirling mind, the clock read 7: 30 and so he shut off the TV and decided to make his morning coffee.
The house was still quiet, except for Harry’s feet against the kitchen tiles and the coffee maker being pulled out of cupboard.
He turned on the coffee maker and spooned out some ground coffee beans into it, along with a few cups of water. The soft gurgling sounds and the wafting smell of coffee calmed him quite a bit; enough to run the current situation somewhat sensibver ver again in his head.
He had to plan this out very carefully and slowly. Any wrong moves and he could put not only himself but the rest of the Ministry in danger. he had to make sure not to reveal anything about the purpose the whole thing, nor anything else related to the Ministry. In fact, it was important to stay away from the Wizarding world almost entirely. If Pat found out about his actions too soon, all his efforts would be wasted.
The only good thing was that it wouldn’t be a problem for Harry not to use magic because he hadn’t really done anything with a wand for years. Working as an undercover Auror who lived and blended in among muggles could come in handy at times like these.
Once his coffee was made, he poured himself a mug of it, dumped in a liberal amount of sugar and milk and sat down at the dining table to continue his planning.
But amidst his silent thoughts, question kept popping up that he couldn’t seem to be able to ignore.
Why did a Death Eater come to his place? How in the world did he find Harry’s apartment? No one in the Wizarding community except the people he worked closely with, knew of Harry’s job as an Auror and of his whereabouts. They made sure of that.
Harry felt that he didn’t know who to trust anymore. There had to be someone in their ring of Ministry workers that was sending information to the Dark Side. It could be anyone.
He’d never in his life hoped more that his friends were not involved. He didn’t think he could stand the devastating shock if Ron or Hermione turned out to be the spies. But he highly doubted they would do such a thing.
He shook his head and kicked himself for even considering the possibility.
The first thing on his to-do list was to get Draco’s trust. Without it, he’d be as good as a paper umbrella on a rainy day. Completely useless. If he managed to get Draco to trust him, he would be able to drag some information out that would confirm their suspicions and complete the case for good.
But can I trust him? Harry wondered gloomily. After all he did, can I?
No. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to. And plus, Harry’s trust wasn’t the issue here. All he needed to do was gain Draco’s trust, get him to confess and then Pat would take it from there. Even if Draco turned out to be innocent, that wasn’t Harry’s problem.
You’ve got to act as if nothing is out of the ordinary, he told himself firmly. So what would I normally be doing now?
As if in reply, his stomach growled.
So breakfast it is.
He went about fixing some toast and eggs and was in the process of heating the pan when a sound that he usually didn’t hear, reached his ears. It was incredibly faint yet he knew it had to be someone’s voice. He stopped what he was doing to try and catch it again but the sound had ceased.
He turned off the cooker and tiptoed slowly out of the kitchen. He halted a few yards away from his bedroom door and stared at it.
That was when the voice came again. This time, he had no doubt that it was Draco’s voice. He seemed to be crying out in his sleep.
Cautiously, he inched forward and reached his hand out for the knob. His heart was beating fast again and a sudden thirst for water made him swallow the large lump in his throat before grasping the cool metal.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and let it swing slowly to the wall on his right.
At the sight of Draco in front of him, a pang of fear pinched his insides and his eyes grew wide. He ran over to the bed and turned the blonde over onto his back.
Draco was thrashing around under the duvet with a pained expression on his face and sweat, thick on his forehead. The sickly paleness from last night was gone, but the burning flush in his cheeks now, didn’t make things look any better.
Harry flung the cover off of the thin body and saw that the sheets and the clothing Draco had on was drenched.
“Shit.” he muttered worriedly. “He looks bad.” He rushed to the bathroom across the hall and took down a bottle from the mirror cabinet. He then went back to his dresser in his room and pulled out a pair of clean pajama bottoms and a shirt.
A weak moan escaped Draco and Harry whirled around in surprise. The voice sent shivers up Harry’s spine.
Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and with trembling hands, lifted Draco’s head gently and let the contents of the bottle trickle into his mouth.
Immediately, Draco’s face relaxed and his body slumped back into the mattress. Harry quickly stripped off the sleeping man’s wet clothing and somehow managed to get the dry pajamas on.
Draco was now sleeping peacefully and the redness in his cheeks was starting to fade. His chest was rising up and down steadily and calmly; in complete contrast to the labored heaving from a few seconds before. Harry had done everything he could think of, yet for some reason, he continued to sit on the bed, gazing through the dimness at the object of what he’d been pushing away from for the past eight years. It seemed unreal, and it scared him. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just give up this case right now and go on living as though this interruption in his life had never occurred. It’d be easy, and he wouldn’t have to be tormented by his unwelcome past.
He smiled sadly to himself arushrushed a damp blonde lock out of Draco’s face without thinking.
Where the hell did my life go wrong? He wondered.
Suddenly, the figure beneath him stirred.
“H-Harry?”
Harry stifled a gasp and jumped backwards, ungracefully crashing to the floor. He clamped his mouth shut and held his breath.
There was a soft rustle of sheets and a pause before Draco’s head peered over the edge of the bed.
The two stared at each other for what seemed like eternity before a weak smirk spread over the blonde’s lips.
“What are you doing down there?”
Harry didn’t hear a word of Draco’s question. He just saw the silver pools flickering back at him.
He realised that his mouth was hanging open and blinked, before a blush began to creep uto hto his face. He dropped his gaze hastily and stood up.
“Y-you’re awake.” he grunted lamely.
Draco nodded slowly.
“I guess so.”
Harry blushed even more and cursed at himself inwardly for his clumsiness. Without meeting Draco’s eyes, he coughed and turned away slightly.
“Er- do you... are you hungry? Or thirsty?”
“I could use some water.” Draco replied. Harry saw out of the corner of his eye, Draco close his eyes tiredly and lower himself back onto the mattress.
“Right. I’ll bring a glass.”
But when he returned with a glass of water five minutes later, Draco had fallen asleep again, with his head turned sideways and his disheveled hair splayed out over the pillow.
Harry set the glass on the bee tae table and glanced at him once more, before shutting the bedroom door quietly and retreating to the living room.
By then, the sun was already well up and the sounds of the morning that had been absent a few hours before, were back to their usual business. He yanked open the heavy curtains and let the bright light pour in, illuminating even the darkest and furthest corners of the scopic room. Seeing the rest of the world outside his flat going about normally and unaffected eased his tension a might, for in a sense, it told him that things weren’t insane after all. That the whole chain of unexpected events weren’t impossible like he’d thought.
Certainly, seeing Draco Malfoy for the first time since the end of the War had an affect on Harry that he couldn’t quite understand but he knew that they both had their own lives now. Draco had his work cut out for him and Harry had his own duties to fulfill, which was at this point in time, to do whatever he could for the Ministry as a top Auror.
He should be able to ignore his past without it interfering with his mind; he was a grown man now and had learned from his experiences that emotions really just got in the way of everything. Therefore, love was another one of those strict emotions that you had to trust and be entirely and completely sure of, before committing yourself to it’s powers.
This was one of the reasons that during his years as an Auror, Harry had restricted himself from too much of any kind of sentimental affection for another human being. Of course, it didn’t mean that he never felt attracted to anyone. He just tried to keep himself at a good distance from the danger zones. Alex, his friend for a long time now, was openly takenh Hah Harry but he had accepted Harry’s plea to become nothing more then close friends. Alex was one of those people that never pushed anything to get what he wanted, he was rarely angry or jealous. Just always smiling and an occasional tease. Harry was grateful to have met such a wonderful guy.
Whenever Harry felt sad or stressed, Alex would be there to comfort him whether on the phone, or if he wasn’t at work, he’d race over to Harry’s like lightning and hug him and kiss him and tell him everything would be okay.
On the shelf that held his volumes of thick books, a framed photograph of them was propped up; a picture of the first time they had met at a club called Moonlight. They were both still considerably younger and more carefree looking, with their faces red from the heat and the alcohol. Alex had his arm around Harry’s waist and Harry had his head against Alex’s shoulder. It had been a memorable night. From then on,y hay had become good friends and would go to Moonlight on the weekends along with other friends.
Harry absentmindedly fingered the frame and sighed. If only he wasn’t an Auror, he would have been more appreciative of Alex’s sweet compassion. He wouldn’t hesitate to let himself drown in the sea called love. But of course, that was only his irresponsible side. He had far more important things to do, like catch Death Eaters and stop innocent people from gettingderedered. He was depended on.
He’d often wondered what a life as anyone else would be like. as Has Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, or He-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord. Just a plain guy you could spot anywhere and not care to give him a second glance. Without the scar, without the past, without the fame. Just someone who could spend every day of their life prancing about with their friends with not a care in the world. Someone who didn’t have to hide in order to stay alive. Someone who could love without having the fear of endangering their loved ones.
What would it have been like if he were a muggle? What if he hadn’t been born a wizard? What if magic never existed? Would the world be any different?
He was honestly enjoying his life among muggles so much right now that he sometimes forgot that he had ever gone to a boarding school that taught magic, and that hidden in his bedroom, he owned a wand. Sometimes, he even wished to forget it. Especially when he was spending time with his friends. The whole concept of Wizardry seemed so unnecessary.
What the hell am I thinking? Harry thought to himself irritably. I should be thankful that I didn’t end up having to spend my whole adolescence with the Dursleys. That would have been terrible.
He set down the photo and turnedund und to see Draco standing in the bedroom doorway, looking at him with an unreadable expression. It was a very familiar expression, but Harry had never liked it once in his past because it was impossible to decipher.
Harry kept his eyes at a point behind Draco and stuck his hands in his pockets.
“You look depressed.” Draco’s voice whispered quietly.
Harry shrugged and tried to look as though he was simply tired.
“I haven’t had a good sleep lately. That’s all.”
“You’ve changed a bit.”
Harry glanced up, and was startled to see that Draco was smiling. It was a sincere smile, and not a trace of his smirk, which was very unDraco-like. But perhaps the Slytherin had changed too.
“Well it’s been a while hasn’t it.” was Harry’s reply.
“Yeah, it has.”
They stood in silence the nexw miw minutes, Harry biting his lip and running his hand nervously and repetitively through his hair and Draco’s intense eyes never leaving Harry’s face. Harry couldn’t help but feel as if the blonde was studying him, trying to memorize every new feature of his face, every sparkle in his eyes. Finally, he broke the tense lapse and motioned toward the kitchen.
“Are you hungry now?”
Draco nodded and watched as Harry pulled his hands out of his pockets and made his way into the kitchen wordlessly.
“Sorry it’s not much, but I’m not that much of a great cook.” Harry said as he plopped down into a dining room chair not long after, along with two plates of eggs and toast.
Draco didn’t answer and the silence continued throughout the meal. Only the clinking of their forks against their plates could be heard.
After both their plates were cleaned off, Draco looked pointedly at Harry, as though he wanted to say something, but he never did. Harry had to practice all his self control not to show the annoyance he felt, on his face.
There were a million things that he wanted to ask Draco but he knew that it would only manage to make things between them more awkward, hence putting his chances of gaining Draco’s trust at a more difficult level. And he didn’t feel that he wanted more of a challenge then what he currently had in his hands.
Suddenly, his mobile rang and Harry got up to answer it.
His mouth still chewing the last bite of toast, his voice was slightly muffled.
“Hewo?” he asked, gulping down orange juice.
“Uh- Harry?”
Harry blushed and swallowed hastily.
“Hi Alex, sorry about that- I was just finishing up breakfast-”
“Breakfast? Isn’t it sort of late fot that? More like lunch?”
7;I 7;I woke up late!” Harry protested.
“Oh, I see. Lazy bum.”
“Shut up.” Harry smiled into the phone. “So how was work last night?”
“Not bad. Quite a lot of people. There were thirty orders of the special and the cook was really sweating it.” Alex laughed. “And’t worry, all the diners were there as a couple so I wasn’t in danger or anything.R>
“Good.”
“So you were okay yesterday aft lef left?”
Harry furrowed his brows, trying to remember what had happened yesterday when Alex had been there. It seemed like such a long time ago.
“Er- yeah. Yeah. I was fine. I’m cool now.”
“Good.” said Alex, copying Harry’s defiant tone, making Harry laugh too. “God though, I’m so worn out from all the orders that I had to take. I definitely need tonight to release all that stress!”
“Tonight?”
“Duh! Moonlight? You said you were coming!”
“Oh, that! Yeah, of course..... of course I’ll be there.” Harry said quickly. “Have I ever missed a chance to go?”
“Phew, cuz you got me scared there for a second Harry. You’re such a tease.”
“Me? A tease? Oh pu-leeeze.”
“Wher. er. Just don’t forget the time okay Har? If you forget, I won’t forgive you!”
“Right. Right. Well I’ll see you then.” Harry chuckled.
“Yeah, I’ll see you. Later luv.”
“Bye Alex.”
Harry turned off the phone and went back to the dining table to find Draco looking at him again. He thought he could have imagined it but Draco’s expression seemed to be a bit darker then before.
Before sitting down, he decided that he had better tell Draco about that night and so he forced himself to look into Draco’s eyes without turning away.
“That was a friend of mine... and we usually go out with a couple of other friends on Friday nights and weekends to a club or bar or something. You want to come with? It’ll be fun.”
Draco pursed his lips and looked to be considering the invitation thoughtfully before he shrugged and stood up with both his and Harry’s plates.
“Sure, I guess. Why not.&;
Harry raised his eyebrows. He had half expected Draco to refuse.
“It’s a muggle club by the way. And all my friends are muggles.”
“So?”
“So? I just thought you....”
“I’ve been to muggle clubs before, although they’re not as good as the ones in our world. But they’re okay. And as for your muggle friends.... I’ll put up with them.”
Harry stifled a smile despite his uncomfortableness.
“Great. You’ll like it at Moonlight. It’s a great club.”
“It’d better be.”
“Er- did you bring... any clothes?” Harry asked slowly, realising for the first time that he hadn’t seen any sort of suitcas Dra Draco’s.
“Of course I did.” Draco said, looking at Harry as though that had been the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s in my trouser pocket.”
Harry frowned. “In you trouser pocket?”
“You don’t think I would have hauled it around by hand do you?”
“But-” Harry started, feeling bewildered and worried at the same time. He’d heard that Draco had left his wand, so that would mean that he expected Harry to unshrink it for him...
Draco smiled. “don’t worry about being tracked down. You do know why wandless magic was banned by the Ministry right?”
Harry stared. “You... you can do wandless magic?”
“not many wizards can, but I was born with it. Just like you were born a Parseltongue.”
Harry was about to say that he actually wasn’t born a Parseltongue but decided against it at the last second, for he’d have to mention Voldemort and at the moment, such a name was too dangerous to utter in the presence of someone like Draco.
“Right.” he murmured.
Draco was scanning the room with what looked like mild interest before turning back to Harry.
“So you’re really living as a muggle, huh?”
Harry ran the question over in his head quickly. He had to be careful with anything Draco asked or said, for all he knew, Draco could be trying to do exactly what Harry was trying to accomplish. Which was to get as much information out of the other as possible, and inform their side about it.
He resolved to answer with a conservative, “Yes”.
“Is it fun?”
“Sure.”
After that, Draco didn’t ask anything more. He seemed to have taken Harry’s lack of speech as a sign that he didn’t want to talk. Harry didn’t feel that rushing thing would be safe on his part, so he decided to save his probing until later.
This was going to be one hell of a battle of the minds between them.
So how do you like the new chapter? It’s a bit longer then the others (that’s why it took longer to write). Please review and tell me what you think! I love you all!
silverXserpent