Sing for Me, Cry for Me

5. The Morning After II.

In general it was a happy veela who was idly sitting in a large leather armchair of his study with a glass of wine cradled in between his long elegant fingers. Lucius was playing and replaying every episode Harry and he shared that night. And though part of him, the part he never thought he had, ached for the pain and distress his young mate went through he couldn’t help but feel happy and satisfied.

True as they say when you find the special one it always makes you happy and truly complete. While Lucius always prided himself on being a self-sufficient and independent person who needed no one, tonight he understood that he wasn’t complete and whole before. It’s not that the bond between Harry and himself had been officially completed, but in Lucius’ estimation everything that was shared between the two of them seemed to fit perfectly and indicate that the bonding will be completed in the near future and Lucius was hardly ever wrong. Now he only had to wait for another month. And it was going to be a hell of a month. For he could hardly keep himself from going back to Hogwarts and dragging Harry along with him. Willing or not.

How was he going to distance himself from his mate, not to see him, not to look for him? Lucius decided to stay away from Hogwarts and unbearable temptation for the time being and instead wait for the results. After all Lucius was strong enough to keep his passions, emotions and desires under control. Most of the time, that is.

But while he was so far away he couldn’t be sure that nothing wrong would happen to Harry. From what he understood from Draco’s letters Harry was the most seeking after young man at Hogwarts and everyone wanted to get his hands on him, including his own son. He would make sure that it didn’t bode too well with those unlucky fools who would attempt to harass his Harry ever again. One trick of Lucius Malfoy would discourage anyone forever.

That’s why the next morning while Harry and Hermione didn’t attend breakfast with the rest of the Gryffindors at the Slytherin table Draco Malfoy got a letter from his father.

He instantly thought that he must have done something wrong. But he couldn’t quite remember what exactly. He didn’t do anything out of ordinary lately. Draco wrote home every week sending one letter to both his parents (because he didn’t know for sure who cared for him more, if cared at all). It always was the same “Dear father and mother”. His father always on the first place, the epitome of everything Draco wanted to be himself, though Lucius himself wrote him only when he felt that Draco somehow tainted or humiliated a Malfoy name. When he got too low grades or when he lost a Quidditch match, or when he got a detention, or got into a fight.

So trying to keep as much a Malfoy facade as possible Draco slowly strutted out of the Great Hall putting on the air of superiority and evilly smirking at anyone who would look his way. Crabbe and Goyle tried to walk after him still cramming their mouths with food but one gaze from Draco was enough to discourage them, which right at the moment was just fine with the three of them. While Draco didn’t want to be interrupted and didn’t know how long he would be able to keep his cool with the letter from his father frantically clutched in his hand the Crabbes’s and Goyle’s love for stuffing their stomachs was far surpassing their love for their beloved leader.

When Draco reached the dorm it was thankfully empty so he sat on the sofa and rather shakily opened the letter.

Dear Draco, (Oh-ho)
It has come to my knowledge (Oh shit!) that you quite obsessively has been trying to get attention of one Harry Potter (Shit! Shit! Shit! He’s going to come here and kill me) and without much success as far as I’m aware of. Which is quite a disgrace (Here it goes) for a Malfoy always gets what he wants. (Well, sorry, father I’m not perfect!) But I found a way in which you can prove that you deserve to be the part of our family and consequently my heir. Mind you, Draco, if you won’t cope with this task I’m afraid I’ll have to strip you of some of your privileges as a Malfoy heir. You’ll have to keep a close watch on Harry Potter for me. (What?) And no, you are not allowed to approach him in any manner that could be considered as improper or inappropriate. You won’t be harassing him again, you won’t try to bestow your unwelcome attention upon him ever again. But you will watch him closely. His every step, his every move, you will be everywhere he will be. You will become his shadow. You will report to me every night in your letters. And the most important thing is that you will make sure that he stays safe. If something happens to him, my dear Draco, I’ll have your head for it. I need to know every minute detail about him up to when he wakes up, what he eats and when he goes to bed, and the last but not the least you’ll have to pay absolute attention to the state of his health. By the end of the month you will have to cast a very complicated spell on him and I’d advise you to hope that it doesn’t fail. I will tell you about the spell in several weeks so that you have enough time to practice.
I will be waiting for the first report tonight.
Your father,
Lucius

To say that Draco was surprised would be an understatement. He was absolutely shocked. Shocked to the core. He couldn’t comprehend why his father had suddenly such an avid interest in Potter’s personal and social life. To watch his every move, his every breath, where and with whom he is. And what is this spell he will have to cast? Surely his father doesn’t want to kill Potter? Why would he ask to keep him safe then? And to watch his health? What the hell was going on? Not that his father would tell him and he wasn’t stupid enough to inquire. And not to approach him in any improper manner! Just to watch him from afar! Know everything about him and not even to approach! Draco always knew that his father had a cruel streak but that was just inhuman. Moreover he’ll have to make sure now that no one else puts his hands on Potter as well. To become someone’s shadow. It was humiliating. Not that he wasn’t following Potter around before… What games was his father playing anyway? And why he Draco was the main pawn? But Draco knew the command when he read one and he knew that he would do it or father would surely follow through with his threat and disown him. And his mother’s inheritance would never be enough for him, not after all the years of luxurious life he lead under his father’s wing. And Draco never in all his life disobeyed his father. And in return he always got what he wanted. It was a perfect deal. But getting older Draco understood that he had his own opinion and his own reasons, some of which were in total opposition with his father’s. And being raised like a puppet started really getting on his nerves, but he wasn’t a rebel, no he wasn’t a stupid Gryffindor and he didn’t know if he ever was going to be strong enough to say “No” to his very powerful and extremely intimidating father. He wasn’t even sure if ever the greatest Harry Potter would be able to say “No” to Lucius Malfoy. “Well, he could try”, smirked Draco, “but he should know that a Malfoy doesn’t take “No” for an answer. Even from his own kind.” Here the smirk turned into a bitter sneer.

Damn you father, why are you doing this to me? I just hope it’s not another dark lord and his orders.

And now back to Potter, I don’t recall him coming for breakfast today and he is always there with his two sidekicks. But Granger wasn’t there either and Weasley was looking thicker than he normally does.

Father knows something. Sometimes I truly hate you. Well, no matter, I have to go and hunt Potter wherever he is.

The idea was far from adverse to Draco. He liked watching Potter. He could even now tell his father when he wakes up, what he eats, how he breathes, what he likes to wear and where he usually spends his free time, not to mention with whom. He felt inexplicably drawn to Harry. And very deep down Draco knew that it wasn’t only beacuse of the looks Harry was sporting nowadays. No, very deep down somewhere in the dark Draco could confess to himself that he wanted to be friends with Harry and now more than ever. To really know the person Harry was. Not everybody’s darling and savior but Harry, just Harry. He wanted to have something in common with him. He wanted to share something with him. Wanted to know him closer, maybe even date him. But he knew that Harry would never give him a chance that’s why he was taking his revenge on him by making his life miserable. It was the way he was raised. If he couldn’t get something he wanted he destroyed it. That’s what his father always told him. And his father always got what he wanted because that what meant to be a true Malfoy.

He went to the Great Hall to see if Potter hadn’t showed up later (it was Saturday after all), but the hall was already empty. He went to the Quidditch pitch remembering that Gryffindors usually had their practice after breakfast. Well the practice there was but no Potter in sight. It was getting weird. Potter never missed a Quidditch practice. Sometimes Draco felt that Quidditch was his life. He always seemed so free so carefree flying high above on his broom. And the way he was searching for the Snitch. So determined, so furious, so beautiful…And whenever he won (which was always) so happy, rapturous, like a small child who was given tones of sweetest chocolate ice cream. Draco caught himself in time before his face would transform into a smile. A thing he would never allow to happen to him. And what would his father say. He shook his head and decided to check by the lake or by the trees where the Golden Trio liked to spend their time.

But it was the end of November and who would be spending time under the trees or by the lake in such a dreary, chilly weather. Still, worth a try. Draco searched here and there. Under this tree and that tree (not that it was too hard with all the leaves gone) but Potter still was nowhere to be found.

Chilled to the bone Draco returned to the castle to warm up and started circling corridors in hope of spotting Harry. He even looked inside the Hospital Wing. Which was once the place where Potter ended up quite often. But the place Draco found Potter shocked him almost as much as his father’s letter earlier that morning. The library. On a Saturday day. Instead of a Quidditch practice. The world must have come to an end. Father’s letter concerning Potter ordering to almost take care of him was weird. But Potter in the library was far weirder.

Draco walked in there out of sheer boredom and hopelessness of the situation. It turned out that Potter was hard to be found if he didn’t want to be. But when he saw a mop of jet-black hair going between the shelves his heart skipped a bit. Potter was never known as a studious type and it was more of a Granger’s perfect place to spend a weekend. He even thought that he made a mistake or that the light played a trick on him so he decided to follow the owner of the hair to make sure. And it indeed turned out to be Potter. One and only. The one he spent the whole morning looking for. Potter took a seat in a far corner of the library and took a book out of the huge pile that was set on the table in front of him almost devouring it with his attention. Since when Potter became such a bookworm and book lover in general? Maybe Granger’s obsession was contagious and now Potter got the bug too?

On impulse Draco decided to approach Harry and comment on an unusual place of habitation he chose on Saturday with rather unusual companions. But father’s letter echoed its way through his brain. You are not allowed to approach him in any manner that could be considered as improper or inappropriate. But how was he supposed to know what his father considered improper or inappropriate. Maybe talking in the library was quite an inappropriate act when concerning Potter.

Draco suddenly felt as if he was being watched and turned around but there was nowhere there. He took a deep breath. Father, I’m becoming paranoid. By the time you will deem my task completed I will end up in St. Mungo’s. Damn, damn you, damn you and Potter along with you. You’d made a perfect couple of two damned souls in my world of torture.

So after a moment’s hesitation Draco took the first book that was within his reach and placed himself in a comfortable nook that suggested the perfect view of Harry’s every movement while at the same time not giving away Draco’s shelter in the shadows.