Then He Opened His Mouth

Disclaimer: I don\'t own them and I don’t want to. I’m just borrowing them for a bit, but they will be returned, no harm done. No financial gain expected.
Rating: PG-13 to start, working to R later
Pairing: HP/DM
Summary: Harry Potter has a “despise-hate” relationship with Draco Malfoy. Slashy gess ess will ensue, so if you don’t like slash, please don’t bother reading.
Feedback: Please read and review, but no flames, please!
A/N: Thanks to a wonderful beta and a good (and reassuring) friend, Chark, your ideas and help are always invaluable to me. Special thanks to Lisa for invaluable help and ideas! Any errors left behind will be mine alone. Thoughts indicated by parenthesis. WIP

Chapter Five
The Dungeon Dweller

I watched as Psyche flew out into the pre-dawn London sky, carrying with her my final message to Potter. It had been a calculated risk, writing to him the way that I had, and I was worried that he might not respond well. True to his character, he had been suitably reticient at first. But there was no way in hell I was going to just roll over and accept defeat just because Potter thought I was playing games. I could almost hear his voice pleading with me in the last missive he had sent me.

Why?

I could sense some reluctance in his question, almost like he wasn\'t quite sure whether to trust his own judgement or not. Or maybe he just didn\'t trust me, yet. Of course, Potter had no idea that I was Glenn deWedlour, and I intended to make sure that things remained that way for a while longer. There had been a lot of bad blood between us in the past, and I wanted to take this summer to show Harry that the things he knew about me were not all they had seemed. I was certainly going to have my work cut out for me.

I had begun to formulate my plans not long before we had left Hogwarts for the summer break. First, I needed a name for myself. I was fairly certain that owls from Draco Malfoy would not be welcomed at the home of Potter\'s Muggle relatives. No, a pseudonym would definitely be in order. I\'d tried to make dozens of anagrams using the letters in Draco Malfoy, but they just seemed lacking in some way. Then I hit upon using Dungeon Dweller as my moniker, then I twisted that into an anagram, and Glenn deWedlour had been born. The rest of the plan started to fall into place as I sat on the train thinking. I was amazed at how simple this was going to be.

With Father incarcerated in Azkaban, Mother was maudlin and weepy at the prospect of living life without him. I flatly refused to spend my summer watching her mope around Malfoy Manor, so I\'d decided that I would take up summer residence at the Leaky Cauldron. The room might not be of the standard I was used to, but it was clean, comfortable and amazingly close to anything I may need to help further my agenda.

After getting settled into my new room, I decided to make a list of things I would need not only to make myself comfortable in the room, but also things that would help keep my identity a secret from Potter. A trip to Gringott\'s was the first stop on my list to withdraw some funds, and to convert some of those funds into Muggle money. Not that I had any experience with Muggle things, aside from a few items of clothing, but there is always a first time for everything. My next stop was the stationary store for plain parchment, charmed quills, ink, and string. Then I\'d crossed the street to Eeylops Owl Emporium where I got Psyche, a cute little barn owl who came complete with a cage and food. That took care of keeping Glenn deWedlour a man of mystery. Feeling quite pleased with myself, I\'d decided to change into some Muggle clothes and step out onto Charing Cross Road and see if there was anything that I might be interested in out there. Actually, that\'s where I first heard the song that I quoted for Harry on the last parchment I\'d sent him. You see, there\'s this little shop next to the Leaky Cauldron that sells used recordings. I\'d been standing outside the entrance when I first heard it, and asked the bloke behind the counter the title of the song, and there you have it. Of course, I kind of told Harry that I had a hard time tracking it down, but it was only a tiny, little lie.

I wasn\'t expecting to hear from him for a few days. When I told him that I wanted him to take some time to think about it before replying in my last message, I had meant it. Even so, his silence was incredibly nerve wracking, and I wondered constantly if my final letter to him had scared him off. Sitting alone in my room waiting for an answer was torture, and after three days, I finally conceded that I needed to get out and stretch my legs a bit. I ended up strolling through Diagon Alley, looking at the fascinating items in the windows of all the different shops. Things like broomsticks, telescopes, lunascopes, and a moving model of the galaxy in a glass ball really caught my eye. Then my wandering brought me to Florean Fortescue\'s Ice Cream Parlor at half past the hour, where I\'d received some free ice cream as was the custom. On my way back to my room I stopped at Quality Quidditch Supplies to look at the coveted Firebolt. Since Father was in Azkaban, I had access to the entire Malfoy fortune, and no one else to tell me that I couldn\'t have it unless I beat Harry Bloody Potter. Well fuck you, Lucius! Without an ounce of guilt, I bought myself that Firebolt. I never felt so free, and it felt good.

Psyche was waiting for me when I returned to my room, patiently sitting on the window ledge with an envelope in her beak. My hands shook with excitment as I opened the window to let her into the room. Taking the envelope from her, I handed her a little treat and walked over to the chair in the corner of the room to begin reading Harry\'s response. I felt myself start to smile as I saw his familiar scrawl on the parchment.

Dear Glenn,

You asked what I think about in the dark. Honestly, I try very hard not to think about anything at all. So instead of thinking, I sit here and stare out my window for hours on end looking at the stars, dreaming that I\'m out there in the vast blackness flying amongst them. It\'s one of the only times I am able to forget who I am and how I have failed all of the people who count on me.

And since getting your mail three days ago, I have spent my nights thinking of you (yes, I know I said I try not to think, but you have become the exception to that rule) and I can\'t help but wonder who you are and why you picked me.

So tell me, Glenn...what do you think about when you are alone in the dark?

Yours,
Harry

I don\'t know how many pieces of paper I went through trying to write my response to him. Each one seemed more inane than the other, and the floor started to fill with small, crumpled up balls of parchment. Psyche sat on her perch and gave me a look that screamed Get on with it! I glared at her and finally came up with a suitable missive to send to Harry.

Dear Harry,

Thinking is highly overrated, if you ask me. And you did ask. But now, Harry, I think I\'m going to share with you a little secret of mine. I\'ve often watched you flying around the Quidditch pitch when you thought no one was watching you. I\'ve never seen anything as fluid and graceful as you are when you are on your broom. Wind blowing through your hair, so beautiful, it takes my breath away. And now I will always imagine you as a shooting star, streaking across the sky on your Firebolt. It is a visual that will from this moment on bring a smile to my face.

But I can\'t help but wonder why you wish to be all alone out there. Is it because of all of those people you feel you\'ve let down? Because as I see it, you have done nothing but help others, just look at how Longbottom\'s confidence has grown because of you. And I know for a fact that Fred and George Weasley would not have been able to open their shop without your help. Plus you freed a house-elf from the Malfoy\'s. I don\'t think Malfoy ever did shut up about how you cost his father a loyal servent.

Please don\'t forget who you are, Harry. I think you are very special, and not for the same reasons that others do. I\'ve watched as you took on burdens that many an older man would steer well clear of. But you were told it was your duty, and you never once ignored that albatross around your neck, no matter what the personal cost to your spirit was. But I have paid attention and I know what it\'s cost you.

I promise you that the day will come when you won\'t have to wonder who I am, and I plan on making it perfectly clear why I picked you. Oh, to answer your question, I think of you, and I don\'t eneedneed to be alone to do it. I used to think that my feelings for you developed during our fourth year, but if I think about it, there really has never been a time when I haven\'t been thinking about you.

Your Glenn

I knew Harry\'s birthday was coming up on July 31st, so after I sent the last message I went back into Diagon Alley to get him a birthday gift. Now that I knew about his fascination with stars, I could base my gift purchasing on that information. So through the shops I went, picking out the things that I thought might make Harry happy. I\'d chosen \"The Starry Room: Naked Eye Astronomy in the Intimate Universe\" which was a really cool book on amateur astronomy, a small telescope, and the coolest gift of all, which was the moving model of the galaxy, which I planned on having spelled to add a small, black-haired boy on a Firebolt shooting wildly amongst the stars.

A response to my letter arrived the following day.

Dear Glenn,

I don\'t dare to envision myself anything other than alone out there, because somehow, that just seems safer to me. Everyone who has ever been close to me or cared about me has been either hurt, or has ended up dead. Starting with my parents, then poor Cedric, and finally ending last term when I was responsible my godfather\'s death. I will tell you this, though, I\'m most haunted by Cedric\'s death because I should have been able to prevent that. If it hadn\'t have been for me asking him to take the trophy with me, he would be alive today. Surely you can see that I failed him on every level possible? My sleep is punctuated by the sounds of his tortured screams, and I hear that voice over and over in my head chanting \"Kill the spare, kill the spare.\" I don\'t think I will ever be able to forget it. How weak you must think me, Glenn, when I tell you of my guilt. I\'m sure not many know that the so-called saviour of the wizarding world cries himself to sleep some nights because of the horrors he has seen. And by the gods, I never asked to be anyone\'s saviour, I just want to be a regular boy, if there is such a thing.

You seem to know an awful lot about me and things I have done. For instance, even now very few people know that I had invested in Fred and George\'s joke shop using the Tri-Wizard blood money. I wanted to keep my involvement in that venture quiet, but somehow you know.

I think you have a distinct advantage over me. You know so much about me, and I can count on one hand the things I know for sure about you. So far, I know that you are a boy (gods, I hope so!) and you are in my year, and I know you watch me when I am flying, only heaven knows why you would want to. And you think I\'m beautiful? Forgive me for laughing, Glenn, but I am hardly beautiful.

The only thing that I know for certain is that you do something to met mat makes me want to be the man that you see in me.

Your Harry

When I\'d finished reading, I looked down at the parchment in my hands and saw that the ink had smeared over several of Harry\'s words. I blinked as another wet blotch dropontoonto the paper and smeared more ink. I was stunned; I don\'t think that I had ever been moved to tears over anything before this. How could I have not realised the depth of his guilt and agony? And more importantly, how had he been able to disguise what he had been going through for so long so well? I took a few moments before I wrote him a reply.

My beautiful, beautiful Harry...

Don\'t ever, EVER, doubt that you are beautiful! Not only are you beautiful on the inside, I just happen to think that the outside is put together rather nicely as well. I can\'t begin to count the number of nights I have sat in my room, thinking of you, wishing that you were here beside me, and that I could show you just how beautiful I know that you are.

You are not responsible for the deaths of your parents, Cedric or Sirius. You should stop feeling guilty for them. There is only one person responsible for those deaths, and we both know who that is. I don\'t think of you as weak, on the contrary, I think you are the strongest person I know. And I don\'t think you are the saviour of the wizarding world, nor do I think you are meant to be. You, Harry Potter, are my saviour. And every day of my life, I thank my lucky stars for you.

Love,
Glenn

I placed a soft kiss on the parchment and folded it into an envelope, and sent it winging it\'s way toward my destiny.

TBC