Why Do You Love Me?

Draco continued to watch Harry as the day progressed. Harry seemed rather consumed with thoughts of something or other, and throughout the day, his glamour continued to become weaker and weaker. Draco couldn’t figure out why Harry was wearing a glamour, but he was rather curious as to what had happened to make Harry angry with that mud blood Granger girl.

Currently, Harry was sitting on his bed, arms wrapped tightly around his legs while Ron and Ginny Weasley played exploding snap and Hermione sat on Ron’s bed, watching Harry closely. Draco was seated near the doorway, watching all activities disinterestedly. Ron had invited him to play exploding snap (rather grudgingly, under much prodding from Ginny) a couple of hours before, but Draco had declined. It was obvious that he hadn’t wanted to join, and he really didn’t want to do anything with any of the Weasleys.

Harry was absentmindedly picking at something on his arm that Draco couldn’t see. Draco’s brow scrunched up in thought as his eyes focused harder on Harry and he tried to figure out what it was that he was doing to entertain himself. He was obviously ignoring Granger, and whenever asked a question, he just grunted in response. His eyes were quite empty, and the emotionless way in which he looked at Draco sent chills down his spine, though most of the time Harry kept his eyes averted from anyone and everyone.

As the sun sank lower beneath the horizon, Harry’s glamour began to wear even thinner, until it was just a thin sheet of shimmering shield. When he looked at Harry, Draco could nearly see through the glamour, but not quite. He blinked in confusion as he noticed that Harry’s lip had never actually stopped bleeding, and had actually become worse. And there was some type of nasty crimson colored linen about Harry’s forehead.

Draco looked over to Hermione, who met his eyes worriedly. She mouthed something that he couldn’t quite understand, so he sighed and stood to walk over to the bed she was seated on. Hermione scooted over and Draco perched warily on the edge of the bed, ready to spring up at any moment.

“Why’s he wearing a glamour?” Draco asked after a long awkward silence.

Hermione met his eyes, her own muddy brown watering slightly. “His…his uncle beat him up…badly. And…we have reason to believe that he’s been raped, as well.”

Draco’s eyes widened and Hermione nodded sadly, her eyes going back to their hawk-like surveillance of Harry. After an even longer awkward silence, Draco spoke up again.

“He was aped by his own uncle?” His eyes were wide and he found it completely hard to believe that a family member could do something like that to one of their own. Of course, both of his parents were Death Eaters and things like this happened to muggle families all the time, but they tended to spare him the details, and he never asked. Though some people would doubt it, Draco led a rather sheltered life.

Hermione sniffed as a tear fell. “It’s my fault, really,” She said sadly, looking down when Ron shouted joyously and jumped to his feet, pointing at Ginny grinning in victory. Harry sighed and turned his back on them, facing the wall. Seconds later, Harry’s shoulders began to shake violently as he began to cry.

Draco eyed him curiously, torn between comforting him and continuing on with his conversation with Hermione.

Hermione seemed to be ignoring Harry’s outburst, so Draco settled for the latter.

“What do you mean that it’s your fault?”

“Well,” Hermione took a deep breath before continuing. “Harry…Harry sent me a letter earlier this summer. The first time his uncle raped him, I think. But I hardly read it…I just skimmed it, and I didn’t believe him. He’s…always been so desperate to get out of his uncle’s house during the summer. I’ve always doubted that he’d ever go back after our last year at Hogwarts. So I just thought he was pulling my leg.”

Draco’s brow furrowed as he looked over at Harry. Harry’s body was still trembling, but it was hard to tell if it was from tears or from something else. The glamour was almost completely gone now.

Why wasn’t Harry replacing it? Why was he just sitting there with his back to them, his shirt torn and tattered and bloodstained?

…The glamour had completely faded now. Draco stared in surprise at Harry, unable to take his eyes from the battered and broken image that Harry made. “Harry?” Draco asked, as he stepped towards the bed that Harry was sitting on.

Harry remained unresponsive as Draco stepped closer to the bed. “Harry, are you okay?”

Harry turned to look tearfully at Draco. “It…hurts,” He moaned out after a long silence.

He then abruptly collapsed on the bed, moaning and still shaking slightly.

Hermione gasped and Ron and Ginny looked up at the bed in surprise. “Harry!” Ginny cried, racing to the bed and dropping to her knees next to it. “Harry, what’s wrong? Harry?”

Harry looked at her with regret in his eyes. “Ginny…” Harry groaned softly and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his eyes were a vivid green that shone in pain. “I’m…so…sorry.”

“Sorry?” Ginny clenched Harry’s hand desperately. “Sorry for what?” When Harry’s eyes began to drift shut again, Ginny began to freak out. “No, Harry! Stay awake! Stay with us, okay? Please!”

Hermione shot to her feet. “Ron,” She commanded, pointing towards the doorway. “Go get your father. Harry needs to be taken to St. Mungo’s.” Ron glanced at Hermione bewilderedly. “Now!” Hermione demanded, and Ron shot to his feet quickly and scurried out the door.

Ginny desperately shook Harry’s hand, but Harry didn’t respond. His eyelids didn’t so much as flutter when she cried his name into his face. “Harry! Harry, what are you sorry for? Harry? Harry!”

Hermione sighed and yanked Ginny’s hand away from Harry’s. “Let go of him, you prat. He’s in pain, you’re only making it worse,” Ginny glared at Hermione, but relented.

Hermione stood over Harry’s prone body. He was beginning to sweat slightly, and he was burning up. His face was flushed, his lips parted as he struggled to breathe.

Seconds later, Molly Weasley rushed in, pushing everyone in the room aside in her rush to the bed that Harry was sprawled on. Arthur was only footsteps behind her, followed by Severus Snape, and bringing up the tail was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Molly immediately levitated Harry’s body into the air and out of the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying in every direction as she quickly followed Harry’s floating body out of the room.

Arthur and Snape followed, but Dumbledore stayed in the room with the rest of the teens. “Can anyone tell me exactly what has happened here?” He asked quickly. Hermione volunteered.

“Quickly, please, Miss Granger, so that we can go and see how our young Mr. Potter is doing.”

…
…
…

When Hermione had finished her explanation, Dumbledore nodded in understanding and ushered them out of the house, prodding them to apparate directly to St. Mungo’s immediately. Of course, Draco and he stayed behind as everyone else left the house.

As the hours passed, Draco became more and more fidgety. What exactly had happened to Harry to make him collapse as he had?

That was the question directly in Draco’s mind, though he was quite sure that Dumbledore had known exactly what was going on the moment that Granger had opened her huge mouth.

Draco could hear someone coming up behind him, but he ignored the sound as he stared out the window, waiting desperately for some word about the boy who had collapsed.

A throat cleared, and Draco sighed as he was forced to turn around and face Dumbledore. “Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said after a long pause. “I believe that Mr. Potter is doing just fine now.”

Draco pulled a face. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve been wondering, haven’t you?” Dumbledore tilted his head questioningly and Draco sighed.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve just received word that Harry is doing just fine. You can stop worrying now.” Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling mysteriously.

“Well, that’s great,” Draco mocked. “Thanks.”

Dumbledore just smiled peculiarly, his head cocked and his damned eyes still twinkling. Draco sighed in frustration. “What?”

“Well, I’ve just been thinking that maybe you’ve been wondering as to what has caused Mr. Potter to collapse.”

Draco rolled his eyes and returned his gaze to the window. “Yes,” he said, gaze unwavering.

“It’s okay to wonder these things, Mr. Malfoy. I assure you, you won’t get killed for being curious.”

Draco shot him a questioning look, and Dumbledore smiled. “Ah, perhaps I’m wrong. After all, curiosity killed the cat, did it not?” Draco pretended to ignore him, and Dumbledore continued as though they were discussing the weather. “As you well know, Mr. Potter has been…ah, abused.” He paused, but when Draco didn’t respond, the former headmaster continued. “When he contacted Ms. Granger about this, she refused to believe anything of the sort. Of course, though her reasoning may have been a bit off, she did have reason for thinking the way that she did.

“However, because of her reasoning, Mr. Potter continued to be abused. This lead to the decision that he had to wear a glamour when he came here, so as to hide the way he had been treated. As you may, or may not, understand, Mr. Potter is ashamed of the way he has been treated. He is ashamed that he allowed himself to be treated that way.

“In effect, Mr. Potter’s magical barriers weakened every moment that the glamour was used. Of course, they may not have been affected at all if he hadn’t been abused as he had, but the fact remains that he was already weak to begin with, and using the glamour just weakened his strengths even more.”

Draco’s gaze was drawn towards Dumbledore as he explained, and Draco stared at him in awe when he was finished.

“Potter’s gone through all of this…and he hasn’t told anyone?” Draco hadn’t wanted to ask the question, but it had just slipped out. Immediately, Draco flushed a bright pink and clamped his mouth shut. Dumbledore smiled at him, his eyes twinkling even more than before.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Malfoy, that this is true.”

Draco sighed and gazed out the window again. “Will he be able to come back soon, then?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I’m afraid not,” Dumbledore said. “His magical abilities must be replenished completely before he can come back,”

Draco nodded in understanding. Dumbledore sat on the couch across from Draco and stared idly at him.

“He’ll be okay, then?” Draco asked, though he was trying hard to show that he didn’t care. His jaw was set and his eyes hard as he assumed the façade he had been practicing since the age of three.

Dumbledore’s smile drifted away slightly. “We can’t be sure at the moment. Mr. Potter has taken a lot of damage, not only to his physical being, but also emotionally. Not to mention the magical damage it has caused him.” Dumbledore’s lips pressed into a grim line as he stared over Draco’s shoulder and out the window as well.

Draco perked a brow and glanced at Dumbledore curiously. “There’s been other magical damage?” he asked, his attention drawn completely to the conversation at hand now.

Dumbledore sighed grimly. “I’m afraid so. Harry’s magic attempted to heal him while he was damaged. When he began using the glamour, his magical abilities were pulled towards covering up his wounds instead of attempting to heal them. This caused a sort of implode of sorts between his glamour covering up his damages and his healing powers trying to make the glamour go away in order to heal him completely.

“Unfortunately, this has caused more damages internally, not that Mr. Potter hadn‘t had any internal damages before hand.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open and he closed it with a snap. “Harry’s magical abilities have imploded?” he asked in shock.

Dumbledore shot him a small half-smile. “Something like that, yes. I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, it’s not as horrid as it may seem,”

“Have you gone mad?” Draco asked, his mouth hanging open once again. “How can it not be as bad as it seems? Harry’s only family has brutally raped him, and you’re saying it’s not as bad as it seems? Har-er, Potter could be scarred for life!”

Dumbledore’s half-smile turned into an all out grin. “I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, it truly isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be. Anything similar could happen when one over-exerts himself! Of course, the damages may not be quite as extending, but Harry can be healed.”

Draco snorted and crossed his arms before going back to staring out the window with a mumbled, “Whatever,”

Dumbledore’s features softened as his eyes fell upon Draco again. “Mr. Potter is a very strong individual,” he commented, before standing and leaving the room. Draco stared silently after him.

…
…
…

Hermione burst into the door two hours later, Ron following after her much quieter. “Professor!” Hermione called out as she raced up the stairs. Ron followed her with a slower pace, and was too slow to get away from Mrs. Black’s shrieking cries.

“Blood traitors, the lot of you! I swear! You go tromping about without a second thought towards anyone! You all ‘ought to have been drowned at birth!!” She was cut off immediately when Mrs. Weasley stormed in after Ron, slamming the door in her wake. She stomped directly up to the screaming portrait and spit directly in Mrs. Black’s furry-filled face.

Mrs. Black stared at Mrs. Weasley in stunned silence for a few moments before breaking out in shrieks again. “Blood traitor! How dare you spit upon me, you filth! I’ll teach you to-”

“Shut the bloody hell up!” Mrs. Weasley cried at the top of her lungs, her eyes burning in pent up anger.

Mrs. Black’s mouth opened in protest, but Mrs. Weasley glared harshly at her and raised her wand threateningly. Mrs. Black immediately shut up.

Mrs. Weasley nodded in satisfaction and disappeared into the kitchen.

Draco stood on the landing of the stairs and stared at the portrait of Mrs. Black in awe. Then he smirked at her and sprinted up the stairs after Hermione.

When he got to Hermione’s room, Hermione was hurriedly pacing back and forth, ranting to Ron about the horrid food that they were feeding Harry. Draco leaned against the door frame and stared at her questioningly.

Hermione turned to him, her jaw set and her eyes blazing. “It’s all my fault,” she said, glaring heatedly at Draco. Draco blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have stopped him from using the glamour. I knew that his magic was wavering, I just thought that he would be smart enough to realize it and would stop.” Hermione collapsed onto her bed with a sigh. “I always overestimate them,” she admitted, her arm flung over her eyes.

“You overestimate who?” Draco asked curiously.

Hermione lifted her arm to glare at Draco condescendingly. “Harry and Ron, of course,” she explained. “I always think the best of them; I suppose I’m like a mother to them in a sense.” She sighed and covered her face with her hand again, leaving Draco to stare at her.

“But aren’t you and the Weasel a couple?” Draco asked, eyeing Ron questioningly. Ron glanced at Hermione, a hurt look slashing across his face, and he quickly made his way out of the room while she wasn‘t paying attention to him.

Hermione was silent for a few moments before she sighed once again. “I was just using that as an example. I just hope that Harry will get the help he needs at St. Mungo’s. I mean, school starts awfully soon; maybe he’ll be released before then. He always has been a strong wizard.”

Draco nodded. “But it’s not like I can go back to school. I’ll have to stay here with Dumbledore and Snape for the remainder of the war, at least.”

Hermione sat up and smiled. “You’ll be like Sirius in a way. Harry always wrote to him.” Her eyes became unfocused as she floated off on some fond memories.

“What are you getting at?” Draco asked suspiciously.

“Well, maybe he’ll write to you, too?” she decided hopefully.

Draco snorted. “I doubt it. I’m not like an uncle to him, fortunately for me.”

Hermione’s smile widened. “Yes,” she said after a while. “But that could all work out on the positive side for us,”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, ever since the incident with Cho in the fifth year, I’ve had suspicions about Harry’s sexuality.” Hermione said as she pondered.

“What are you talking about?” Draco demanded. “I’m not gay!”

Hermione blinked. “But I thought-”

“Harry’s far too traumatized anyway to be even thinking about sex! You do know that he was raped, don’t you? Just think of the affect it might have on him if he found out that you were already trying to pin him up with someone!”

Hermione sighed wistfully. “I know, and I know all the affects that rape can have on a person. I just think that a stable relationship would help him-”

“Don’t even think about it, Granger!” Draco cried out as he attempted to leave the room.

“But Draco, don’t you see? You-”

“I am not attracted to Potter!” Draco yelled angrily before he stormed out of the room.

…
…
…

Later that night, Draco lay on his bed, pondering over exactly what Hermione had been trying to get at. Perhaps it would help Harry through some of his trauma if he was in a stable relationship with someone that he could trust, but he would never be able to trust Draco.

But Draco wasn’t gay! And even if he was gay, he would never be attracted to the Boy-Who-Lived! Potter just wasn’t his type. It was true that Draco had never questioned his sexuality. Neither had his parents or any of his friends. But now that he was alone, the things that Granger had said were starting to have an effect.

There had been a few times in his life when he had had some homosexual thoughts, but he had always brushed them off. He was still attracted to girls! He always had been!

But the fact could not go unlooked that he had always found a very peculiar interest in staring at another male’s bum - just to compare, mind you!

And besides, even if Draco was attracted to Potter, it would never work out!