Misery and Grief

I wrote this and most of the next chapter before reading reviews that I will answer here. Yes, Harry should be more caring towards Draco and tell someone who can help properly, but I don't really think it is in his nature to do so. Growing up he had no one to turn to and had to deal with everything by himself. That is a very hard habit to break, and you see it multiple times in the books (and movies) that he almost always tries to refuse help, even when he knows he needs it.

Furthermore, he should be kinder to Draco given Draco's situation. However, though he's had to deal with many things, he's never had to deal with rape victims before. Much less snotty ones that attempted to get his friends fired, tried to get him expelled, and has preaching his enemies antics all together. I'm hoping that I'm portraying him right in portraying him trying to be kind to Draco, but really, really unsure what to do. Harry seems the type to get frustrated easily, to me.

Anyways, enough of my psychological delving into the boy who lived's head. Back to the show!

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It was quite awhile before Draco raised himself off of the ground. Tears streaked his cheeks as he went to the mirror over the dresser. He wiped away the mess on his face before looking down at the food left out for him. It seemed to be a stew of some sort. He turned away from it quickly, his stomach not really wanting to follow him. He winced his way, pain eating at him with each step, to the clothes folded on a chair for him. While he really felt he could use a shower lasting for the greater portion of a millenia, he didn't exactly like the idea of Harry Potter seeing him naked as much as he had, much less more. He blushed much to his dismay.

So he got dressed into the indigo long sleeved v-neck and white dress pants, skipping the boxers as he wasn't sure who they had belonged to and he couldn't think of anyone that would have left them here that he would particularly want to share underwear with. Actually, he didn't want to share underwear with anyone. He looked in the mirror again and wondered why Harry would have clothes like this, considering it didn't seem to be the casual he had seen Harry wear in Diagon Alley or earlier. Much more of a tee and jeans type, with perhaps a track jacket. He snarled at his own ability to recognize what Harry's style would be.

He padded his way back to the food, not particularly wanting to admit that he wanted to eat the food. Reluctantly he stabbed at a potato and stuck it into his mouth. He almost flinched as it wasn't up to his standards of quality, but looking around he reminded himself that he wasn't in Malfoy Manor anymore. This was made obvious by the habitat he was currently in. Everything was filthy and Draco wondered how someone as reknowned as Harry Potter could live there, even if he didn't particularly like the owner of the home. He took the bowl of stew into his hand and padded across the room. On closer inspection, it became obvious that the items themselves were very expensive and rich with heritage. Draco picked up a hand mirror and flipped it in his hand. "Ah, the Black family crest." It was there that his mind got stuck, unsure if he should be sickened by or proud of his beliefs until now and of his lineage. Almost dropping the bowl, he had a look of pure terror on his face as he remembered the adults whom he had looked up to and raised to respect felt him up and intruded his body. Shaking, he put down the bowl as gently as he could, letting it thud as it clapped against surface of the desk. The blond hair met pale hands as he held his head tightly. Stumbling haphazardly, he found himself at the door. It broke his concentration from his own horrible thoughts and he was grateful for it. Taking the knob, he turned and was let into a hallway close to a staircase. He fumbled down the staircase, holding the to railing. When he made his way to the ground floor, he was caught off guard as curtains flew back with a screetch, in which he responded by aptly screaming and jumping what felt like ten feet in the air.

"Oh, did I scare you dear? I'm so sorry." The portrait said to him gently, with a raspy crooked voice. "It's so nice to see a real boy with such good qualities." She seemed to be cooing at him and he was strangely mesmerized. "A boy of pure blood, a boy of the Malfoy family. You must be related to our beloved neice, Cissy. And he married such a wonderful man, too." Something cracked in Draco's very being then.

"SHUT UP!"

"Hmm? Are you a blood traitor then, like the rest of them?" She said, her face suddenly dark and her voice full of scorn.

"NEVER!"

"Then what's the issue? You must hold your family values high and forsake all those blood traitors and mudbloods! How dare they enter my home? Filth! Pureblood faith is the only way to go! Don't you agree, dear?" Draco stared at her, mortified. How was he supposed to answer if he didn't know? However, his concentration was broken by the shutting of the curtains.

"She seems to like you." Harry said. "Usually she's screaming at the top of her lungs and screaming obscenities, it's really quite frightful." It seemed he tried to smile for a moment but it only waned away just as soon. "You probably would agree with everything she says but she gets annoying all the same." He turned to face Draco, who stepped back lightly. "I'm glad to see you're wearing clothes. They suit you." They both seemed to think the same thing in that moment, and that was that it was pathetic that Harry was resorting to small talk but at the same time they didn't know what else to say to eachother. They only knew how to disagree and somehow talking about safe subjects seemed so very unnatural.

Draco offered a solution. "You're house is filthy." He said this, however, with the ever present smirk absent from his lips, the tinge of smugness also gone. It wasn't the same, but Harry would play along. The boy wearing glasses could see the discomfort in Draco's stance. "You should really get someone to clean it up, it's an absolute sty."

"Are you volunteering?"

"Of course not, I've never cleaned once in your life."

"And I've lived in a broom cubboard for over half of mine. A little dust and a few spiders don't bother me enough to clean it up."

They stared at eachother and for a moment Draco lost himself, forgetting the ache across his body and the confusion in his head. Only a moment. Then it was gone. "Don't be ridiculous, like I'd start scrubbing the floor for someone like you, Potter."

"Oh? Who would you scrub the floor for, then?" A smile. All it took was a smile and Draco had completely gotten lost and forgotten about everything. However, it was short lived as there was a knock on the door. Draco jumped behind Harry without meaning to and promptly cursed himself for doing so. The blonde stared at the door as Harry went to open it. Both of them, in that moment, were very unsure. Draco wanted to hide and it would be a lie if Harry didn't kind of want to hide Draco as well. This moment had finally come where he'd have to show that Draco was now being housed in his home, and while some would take it better than others, no one would take it well.. Harry grabbed the door handle and opened the door, half tempted to close his eyes. And part of him wished he had just not answered the door after it opened. Of all the people he didn't want to come in right now, this was probably the worst. Then again, he would probably have thought that for anyone who would have walked in. However, there was no questioning that this was a very bad thing, especially when Ronald Weasley just walked in.

"It's been awhile, so I thought I'd stop by. You'd think I'd practically live here with you by now, you must get lonely all by your-" The redhead blinked and stepped back, knocking into Harry a bit. "Hey Harry? Why is the git here?"