In Love and War

Title: In Love and War
Description: My take on HP Book 7. Harry and his friends need to find the Horcruxes in order to defeat Voldemort and end the war, but they receive unexpected help along the way. Eventual HP/DM. HBP Spoilers. Please read and review.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or franchise. This is just what I wanted to happen in Book 7, nothing more.


Four: Conflict and Confusion


The potion was finished brewing in two days but Draco still had not woken up by then, so he wasn’t able to take it. Harry, Ron and Hermione, therefore busied themselves with finding rooms for them all to occupy and attempting to organize as much as they could to make the Headquarters seem more homely and friendly for them all. Hermione used a few spells to help take down all the snake-like chandeliers and candelabras and put up simpler, not so dark, designs to hold the candles. No one was however, able to take down the portraits that were still hung up stubbornly on the front walls of the entrance hall.

Harry found himself constantly checking up on Draco to see how he was doing. After spending the first sleepless night in the Headquarters checking every hour or so, Harry realized that Draco needed a lot of rest to recharge his abused body. He then trudged over to the tiny room he had chosen for himself (which happened to be right next to Draco’s) throwing himself on the creaky bed and staring up at the plain white ceiling for what felt like hours.

Harry let his eyelids shut for a moment but when he opened them, sunlight was flooding into his tiny room. He sat bolt upright and tousled his already messy hair, making it if possible, even messier than before. Harry yawned widely as he got up and walked out into the dim hallway. Harry walked over to Draco’s room and slowly opened the door, trying not to wake Draco if he was still asleep or trying not to startle him if he was finally awake. When he walked in though, Draco was still asleep, now rolled over onto his stomach, his blonde head to the side. Harry sighed and then left down to the kitchen.

He assumed he would be alone but he was surprised when he walked in to sizzling sounds and wonderful smells that made his stomach growl loudly and made him realize just how hungry he was. Hermione was over the stove, using her wand to cook up breakfast, reminding Harry strongly of Mrs. Weasley when she cooked. Ron was sitting at the long wooden table, his red head on the table, eyes closed and mouth wide open, looking as if he was fast asleep. Harry even heard a faint snore.

Hermione, who had just realized he walked in smiled at him, her bushy hair pulled up into a tamer ponytail today.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Hey,” Harry replied, walking over to her and watching as she cooked sausages in a cast iron pot. Harry glanced over to his left and saw the cauldron full of potion resting on the side of the stove, a large cork placed over the top. “Why is Ron asleep at the table?”

“I made him get up with me,” Hermione replied, turning over the sausage with her wand so it would not burn and then said, annoyed, “You’d think he wouldn’t complain about waking up at eight.”

Harry scoffed, imagining a grumpy Ron forced awake at eight in the morning. “And where’d you get all the food?”

“Conjured it,” Hermione muttered, sounding disapproving. “There wasn’t anything to eat in this place except for some tea bags and moldy bread, none of which sound appetizing.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but suddenly, there was a loud thud directly above the kitchen, causing almost everything in the cavernous room to shake. Harry and Hermione went rigid immediately and Ron’s head shot up in an instant from its former resting place on the table.

“What the fuck—” Ron muttered, his red hair sticking up on one side.

Hermione stared over at Harry, her brown eyes large and wide. She looked suddenly pale.

“You don’t think it’s him?” she whispered to Harry who was now staring at the ceiling as if hoping it could help him figure out what just happened.

“Let’s go see,” was all Harry said before he turned on his heel and walked swiftly toward the door of the kitchen.

Behind him he saw Hermione abandon her burning food, putting out the magical fire quickly and Ron stood up from the table, towering everyone in the room. Harry rushed up the staircase, Ron and Hermione on his heels and he came to a halt in front of Draco’s closed bedroom door. He looked at the knob hesitantly before he jumped after he heard another loud crash and a violent muffled swear.

“Yeah, I think Malfoy’s going to be perfectly fine,” Ron muttered, frowning slightly.

Harry said nothing to this but instead pushed the door open and walked swiftly into the room only to find that Draco was no where to be found. His bed was a mess, sheets thrown about everywhere and a far cry from how the room had been when Harry checked upon Draco not even fifteen minutes ago. Harry suddenly began to panic, feeling his heart race and hands begin to sweat, wondering where on earth the blonde could be…or if some other horrible thing had happened to him.

“Where the hell did he go?!” Harry screamed frantically, Ron and Hermione staring around perplexed.

“I’m right here Potter,” came a weak voice from the other end of the bedroom.

Harry felt his heart stop when he heard the weak whisper.

It sounded nothing like the cruel, sharp voice that normally accompanied Malfoy. Instead the boy sounded incredibly tired although he had been asleep for more than a day. Harry rushed forward without realizing what he was doing, jumping around the bed only to find the broken blonde crumpled on the floor. He lay there on his back, inhaling oxygen so deeply that Harry could see his each of his ribs every time he took a breath in. His blonde head was back against the wood floor, and his grey eyes were staring up at the ceiling, as though he was defeated.

Harry knelt down by the boy, whose gray eyes turned to Harry. Neither of them said anything to each other; Ron and Hermione were watching anxiously from behind Harry.

“Would you like me to help you up?” Harry asked Draco quietly when he realized that the blonde was too weak to do it himself.

Draco did not say anything for a moment but instead gave a deep sigh, his ribs protruding again. It was when Harry realized how incredibly malnourished and thin Draco had become.

Draco merely nodded after a moment of silence, his eyes now shut, and Harry bent over and gently lifted Draco by his bony back to a sitting position. The blonde shivered as he sat up, his head hanging until he opened his eyes again. He looked up at Harry and had his mouth open but only a faint gurgling noise came out.

Harry stared at the blonde wide-eyed and then snapped his head around to see what Draco was looking at. Harry saw Ron and Hermione still standing behind him, watching Draco in an equally frightened fashion.

“Fucking shit,” Harry heard Draco swear under his breath. “Why the hell are those two here?” he asked a little louder.

“What do you mean why are we here?” Ron snarled at Draco, having heard what the blonde said.

Malfoy looked up at Ron, his grey eyes narrowing. Immediately he was back in his normal, obnoxious cruel demeanor, not at all the weak-needy boy he was two seconds ago.

“I think what I said is pretty self-explanatory Weasel-King,” Draco hissed back, now trying to stand himself up without Harry’s assistance.

“Shut the fuck up you fucking ass,” Ron hissed back, stepping forward. Hermione grabbed him roughly before he could take another step, trying desperately to prevent any fighting that would inevitably happen if she let him go. Harry just stood there dumbly.

“Ron, c’mon let’s go,” Hermione said, pulling Ron away from Harry and Draco.

“That’s right Mudblood, take your precious lover away,” Draco said with a hint mirth and disgust.

Ron snarled madly, causing Harry to jump up and hold him back from jumping Draco. Malfoy merely stayed on the ground, watching with interest at what Harry could possibly do to calm his best friend down. It took a combined effort of Hermione and Harry to drag Ron outside of Draco’s room and a good distance away from the blonde. When they managed to get into the hall after moments of struggling Ron calmed down but stared at the closed door, livid. Hermione however, looked as if Draco’s words did not affect her at all.

“That ungrateful little prick—” he began, but Harry stopped him.

“Just go downstairs with Hermione, I’ll take care of Malfoy,” Harry said glumly.

Ron pursed his lips together but did not say another word. He glanced at his girlfriend and then walked down the stairs without her. Hermione and Harry stayed looking at each other for a moment before she told him, “Don’t do anything rash.”

“I won’t,” Harry said.

She nodded and when she finally walked off, Harry went back into Draco’s room. The blonde still had not managed to lift himself up and when Harry went back to him, he was sprawled out on the floor again, his eyes shut and looking as if he was in pain. Harry ignored the ever present protruding bones.

“Help me up,” Draco asked, his tone completely different than it had been seconds ago. He was needy once again.

Harry said nothing but bent over the blonde and scooped him off the floor effortlessly and placed him back on the bed. After that he stepped away from Draco and waited for the boy to open his eyes.

“Why are they here?” he asked slowly.

“Because they’re my friends,” Harry said shortly. “What does it matter?”

There was a long pause.

“I thought it was only you,” Draco whispered, closing his eyes again.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked slowly, trying quickly not to let his mind come to irrational conclusions.

“I mean,” Draco said, opening his eyes again and staring at Harry. “I didn’t expect those two…” He froze and then said, “I didn’t want anyone to see me like this…”

Harry saw Draco examining the large pink scar on his left arm where the Dark Mark had previously been, his eyes now watering.

“If it wasn’t for those two, you probably wouldn’t be alive right now,” Harry said, trying not to be so blunt.

“I’m assuming Granger did all the spell work?” Draco said, not at all impressed.

Harry barely nodded.

“And what the hell did Weasel-King do? Laugh his ass off?” Draco demanded.

“No,” Harry muttered. “He didn’t laugh. No one did.”

Draco said nothing, but instead continued to examine the rest of his scars.

“Who did this to you?” Harry asked suddenly, trying to hold back a wave of tears that had inexplicably risen. He could NOT cry in front of Draco while he was conscious.

Draco became rigid at the question and his face lost the little color it had left.

“Don’t make me remember,” was all he said.

Harry had never seen Draco, or anyone for that matter, behave like this. But he knew that whatever Draco had experienced was traumatic and would probably mess him up for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

Draco blinked and then said, “You’re being too kind to me Potter.”

“I think you could use a little kindness…and maybe a little food too,” Harry said blankly, feeling color rise in his cheeks suddenly.

He heard Ron’s voice in his head, the words, “You’ve been obsessed with Malfoy since last year…” replaying over and over in his head but Harry could not see any connection with what he had just said with Ron’s words.

Draco snapped him back to reality.

“I don’t want food,” he snapped, suddenly wrapping his scrawny, yet muscular arms around himself.

“Oh,” Harry said, caught off guard. “I just thought you’d like something—”

“I don’t want anything,” he said blandly, now looking more tired than ever.

Harry blinked and but Draco suddenly asked, “Where is my shirt?”

Harry flushed. Draco stared at him, no expression on his face.

“Well…er, you were a bit bloody so I decided to change it—” Harry muttered, stuttering stupidly and making a complete idiot of himself. He could not help but remember now how he had run his hands over Draco’s scars…

“Thank you then,” Draco said softly.

“I—what?” Harry asked, completely confused.

“I said thank you for taking me out of that shit. Can no one in this place hear anything?” Draco asked, becoming snappy again.

“We’re all just tired,” Harry confessed.

“Yes I can tell,” Draco said, leaning in from the bed to look over at Harry. “You have a lot of lines in your face and bags under your eyes Potty.”

“Oh,” Harry said blankly.

There was a long pause then:

“I see this is going nowhere, so now that I know where I am, can I get some more rest?” Draco asked, looking Harry up and down again.

“Yeah, of course,” Harry said. “But when you wake up Hermione will probably give you a potion—”

“I don’t want her near me,” Draco snarled.

Harry looked over at Draco, suddenly furious.

“SHE is the one that practically saved your life—”

“But I didn’t come to her did I?” Draco snapped back. He caught Harry off guard again. “I came to you for a reason Potter. I assumed you were alone but how unfortunate I was that you weren’t.”

“W-why did you come to me?” Harry asked, almost silently, his lips barely moving.

It took Draco almost a full minute to answer but when he did, his words shocked Harry more than anything he had experienced in the last 48 hours.

“Because you’re the only person I can trust now, Harry.”

TBC.