Nothing is what it seems

Author's Note:

Updated earlier than intended because I won't beable to update until the end of next week, as I'm going away and won't have access to a computer.
Thanks for all the reviews so far.

Now getting to the whole relationship bit ;)

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Harry woke up the next morning, after having dreamt about the events of the night before, to the sound of somebody being horrifically sick in the bathroom next to the dormitory. He sat up and immediately saw the stack of presents sitting by the foot of his bed. Getting out of bed, he decided to go and see if Malfoy was alright.

“Malfoy? Are you ok?”

Malfoy turned around and looked at him cynically. “Well, do I look ok?” And with that, he swung his head back round to the toilet where he began to puke again.

Harry went back into the dormitory, allowing him to have some privacy. He sat on his bed, waiting for Malfoy to re-enter, feeling too guilty to open his presents. Five minutes later, Malfoy re-emerged looking whiter than ever with bright red eyes.

“How did I get here?” He asked.

“I found you last night in a classroom, so I brought you back here.” Harry replied.

“So, you were following me? I said I wanted to be left alone.” He stated mechanically.

“I didn’t follow you. I found you and thought you might appreciate some help.”

“Unlike everybody else, Potter,” he spat, “I don’t want…don’t need to be saved by you.”

Harry watched him as he spoke. He wanted to bring up what he had seen last night, but he knew that Malfoy would not talk about it. Harry did not particularly want to bring it up either, but he could not just leave it.

“I didn’t save you…only you can do that.” He said. “But last night…the cuts on your arm…how did they happen?” He asked stupidly.

“Fell over.” Malfoy mumbled, suddenly not as confident anymore.

Harry stepped in front of him. “Is it because of your mother?” He asked bravely.

Malfoy looked horrified. “What?! How did you know?! You have been stalking me, haven’t you? I bet you loved this. I bet you’ve told the weasel and mudblood already, haven’t you…” He was furious.

“No. You said so last night,” Harry lied, “And don’t be stupid…I’m not going to tell anyone. But, the cutting? Why?” He asked.

Malfoy was stunned. “Because…” he begun, “I can.”

“Well, if you put it that way, then so can I. But I don’t.”

“It’s alright for you, isn’t it Potter. Everybody loves you…you’re their hero. But what about me? I have a father in Azkaban and a mother who is critically ill. My mother is the only person who has ever truly cared or even loved me and she’s going to leave me now.”

“You still have your father.” Harry reasoned.

“He’s in Azkaban. And even if he wasn’t, so what? He only wanted a son to carry on the family name. To train to become a death eater. Not for the reasons people usually want children. I’m not his son, I’m his project.” Malfoy shouted.

“My parents are dead, too. In case you had forgotten.” Harry said quietly.

“But they loved you while they were alive. Christ, they even died to save you. The whole of the wizarding world adore you. Don’t you even DARE turn this round on you.”

Harry was stumped. He had completely run out of arguments. Malfoy looked at the floor and slumped on to the bed. Harry approached him cautiously and sat next to him on the bed. Malfoy’s breathing, which was hard only moments before, began to slow down. Harry looked at the other boy and noticed that he had tears in his eyes and he looked well and truly defeated. He felt a pang of sorrow in his chest as he observed him.

“Sorry, Malfoy.”

He did not seem to acknowledge Harry, but instead sat in silence. Minutes later he looked up and pointed to the pile of presents with a nod of his head.

“So, are you going to open your presents then?”

“Maybe later. Do you want to go back to your dorm so you can get yours?” Harry asked, trying not to disregard the fact that Malfoy was actually trying to be nice.

The blonde’s nose crinkled. “No point. There won’t be any there.”

Harry remembered all too well a time where he never got any presents. But then he reminded himself that he had got presents, just not anything he wanted in the slightest. A present that sprung to mind was a pair of his Uncle’s old holey socks. Remembering how he felt at Christmas each year when this happened only increased the pounding of sorrow in his chest for Malfoy.

“Do you want to do something else then?” Harry asked.

“No, I’d rather just go back to my common room.” Malfoy said.

“Look, Malfoy. It’s Christmas day. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend the day alone.”

“We’re not even friends.” Malfoy stated.

“Well, no. But like I said, it’s Christmas, and I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

Malfoy jumped up. “I don’t want your pity.” He spat.

Harry also got up. He grabbed the other boy’s wrists and spoke to him gently. “I don’t pity you, Malfoy.”

The boys shared a few moments of eye contact, completely forgetting where they were and the situation they were in. Harry was brought back to realisation first and broke the silence.

“Please stay?”

Malfoy resigned with a small nod. Harry sat back down and waited for Malfoy do join him. When he did, Harry tried to think of something for them to do.

“Are you going to open your presents then?” Malfoy asked him.

“No, they can wait.” Harry replied.

Malfoy looked at him and gave a slight, grateful smile.

“I need to get changed and have a shower. I’m going to go back.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Uh, if you want to.” Malfoy shrugged.

Within ten minutes, the two boys were walking side by side down the corridor which led to the dungeons. Upon reaching Slytherin common room, Malfoy gave the portrait the password and they entered. The common room had not changed much since second year, when Harry took polyjuice potion alongside Ron to impersonate Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy nodded to one of the sofas.

“I won’t be long. Do you want to just sit down or something?”

Harry did not reply verbally, but sat down. Malfoy disappeared up the stairs and Harry waited patiently. An hour passed and Harry began to wonder what Malfoy was doing to take him this long. Images of a drunken Malfoy crossed through his mind and he decided to go and check on him. He walked up the stairs, wondering what he would see when he pushed open the door at the top.

Harry opened the door and poked his head round. What he saw almost made his heart stop.

“Malfoy!” He shouted and he rushed towards him. He grasped the blade from the boy sitting on the floor hurriedly before it could make contact with his pale skin. Malfoy looked horrified that he had been caught just as he was about to harm himself. Harry looked at him questioningly, his mind still reeling from what had just happened.

“She’s…she’s…” Malfoy’s lip began to tremble. He looked seriously ill.

“What?” Harry asked, crouching down so that his face was equal with Malfoy’s.

“Dead.” Malfoy said simply, before wrapping his arms around his legs and placing his head on his knees. Harry’s heart almost gave way. He noticed the letter bearing the bad news lying on the floor. Not knowing what to do or say, he acted on instinct. He knelt next to Malfoy and put his arms round the fragile boy’s body. Harry had half expected to be pushed away, but no such thing happened. Instead, Malfoy leant against him and begun to cry. He pulled the boy towards him tighter and rocked him slightly, as if he were a small child, and made a gentle ‘shhh’ sound.

After the two boys had sat like that for some time, Malfoy’s crying subsided. He brought his head up and wiped his face. Harry pulled away from him to give him some space.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” Malfoy whispered.

Harry was taken back by Malfoy’s vulnerability. “Course not.”

Malfoy stood up and Harry realised that he had neither showered or changed his clothes. He realised that he must have received the news as soon as he entered the room. He could have kicked himself for not checking on him sooner. Harry stood up as well.

“Are you ok?” Harry asked.

Malfoy’s eyes glazed into his. All Harry could see was pain and despair. The moment was intense. Slowly, Malfoy leant his face towards Harry’s, resting his lips upon his. Harry felt a surge of elation sweep through him. He completely forgot who he was and what was happening as his mind began to swim. He kissed him back, entangling his fingers in Malfoy’s hair. Malfoy placed one hand on Harry’s back and another behind his head to support him. Harry deepened the kiss, feeling a twinge of desire when Malfoy moaned in response. He brushed his lips against Malfoy’s open ones and slipped his tongue into his mouth. Malfoy moaned, bringing his tongue to meet Harry’s.

Suddenly Malfoy’s eyes flew open and he pulled away from Harry. He looked frightened at what had just happened.

“Malfoy…” Harry began.

“Can you go now” He said to Harry.

Harry was extremely confused. How on earth did he end up kissing a guy who he hated up until yesterday? He had no idea what had possessed him to respond to that kiss.

“Go” Malfoy repeated.

Harry did not want to leave Malfoy while he was this helpless. He dreaded to think what he might do if he left.

“I’m not leaving you, not like this.” He stated.

“JUST GET OUT!” Malfoy shouted.

Harry decided that perhaps it was better to let him calm down. He supposed his mind was reeling, just like his was.

“Ok. Please don’t do anything stupid though.”

Malfoy did not even look at him. Harry walked towards the door, opened it and walked down the stairs. As he walked back to his common room, his mind raced. What had just happened? Why had Malfoy just kissed him? Why had he kissed him back? ‘I don’t even like guys’ he thought to himself. He told himself that it was because he had felt so sorry for Malfoy. However many times he told himself this, he could not shake off the element of doubt.

Once he got back to his common room, he flounced onto the nearest armchair and he closed his eyes, unable to think of anything other than Draco Malfoy.