Our Choices

Last night my neices and nephews came over for a last minute slumber party. All nine of them. I'm still trying to figure out how they all decided to come over at the same time. It must be conspiracy. It has to be. All I know right now is that I must be the 'cool' aunt because they begged me to let them stay again tonight. (As if!)

Anyway, I took them all to Chucky Cheese's and let them run wild. To reward myself for having patience and spending a load of cash just to fill their never ending bellies, I rented a movie for after they all went to bed.

For those of you who don't know me, I am the biggest movie fanatic you'll ever meet. I love movies. Especially movies that come from books that I liked. So, I plopped myself down on the couch with my popcorn and sprite and started 'The Mist'. I will never watch it again. I really got into it, and that’s rare. I was totally relating with the father all throughout the movie. When he picked up the gun at the end I knew that I'd do the same thing. As sick as it sounds, if it was between me and the creatures, I'd look him in the eyes, Hell-be-damned, and pull the trigger. To everyone who has seen the movie, you know what I'm talking about.

But then he got out of the car. Oh. My. God. I felt sick to my stomach. I still feel sick just thinking about it but I can't get it out of my mind. I honestly don't remember the book ending that way but I don't want to look and find out. My friends told me I'm too soft to watch things like that but, really, how can anyone not read or watch something created by Steven King?!?

::sighs:: I apologize for going on and on. I suppose I just needed to rant for a bit.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!!

Anyway, on to Chapter Eight

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Chapter Eight

Draco hated being outside. He hated the sound, the smell, and the feel. Origanally, he'd come out to see what Potter's house looked like outdoors but got caught up in the area around him. There was nothing. No other houses, no trees and no road.

Well, that wasn't really accurate. There was a long patch of dirt about half a mile away that could have been a road but Draco didn't want to venture too far from the house to see if he was correct.

He thought it was odd, how, barely two years ago one of his favorite past times was sitting beneath the large willow centering the Malfoy Gardens. He had loved the serenity of just sitting and enjoying natures surroundings rather that the closed off walls of Malfoy Manor.

He supposed living in a cave or tent for a long period of time would put anyone off nature. He could still feel the cold draft that shifted around him at night. Although he would never admit it out loud, there had been times he'd welcomed Greybacks warm body next to his. He thought briefly that on those nights the cold had driven him temporaraly insane.

Draco shivered and realized that it wasn't just his thoughts that chilled him. He wondered when fall had snuck up without him aware of it. Goose bumps rose on his skin and he smiled lightly. He thanked every god known to man that he had the warmth of Potters home to spend winter in.

Potter. That man had more faces than Draco could keep up with. In just the day that he'd spent in the other mans presence he'd seen him angry, amused, stern, comforting, annoyed, and suave. The way he changed personalities so quickly made Draco's head spin.

That morning, for instance. Gone was the Potter that, just the night before, had touched him and spoke softly and over all made Draco uncomfortable. Back was the safe Potter that spoke to him in a stern voice, irritated merely by Draco's presence.

Draco sighed and turned to go back inside the house. The day had barely begun and he already wished it was time to go to sleep.

When Potter had woken him with a rough shake to the shoulder he thought the day could be fairly decent, with Potter back to normal. He'd been allowed to try the steps again and this time he had managed them without a repeat of the day before. Breakfast had consisted of thin waffles that Potter had explained came frozen and in a box. Draco had only ever had freshly made waffles but he thought Potters were just as good. What made the day seem so nice was Potter announcing that he'd be in his study until supper. Draco had been excited at the thought of exploring Potter's home and all the odd objects in it without the other man breathing down his neck.

His excitement, however, had been put on hold when Potter stood and held out the Daily Prophet, folded down the center. Draco's hand had grasped it, unsure of what he wanted him to do with it, but Potter hadn't let go. Instead he'd given Draco a hard look and said, "Before I woke you, I debated with myself for a good hour on whether or not I should let you see this. In the end, I decided that I'd leave the decision to you. I'll give you fair warning, though. You will more than likely not enjoy what’s inside and my suggestion is to throw it away and forget about it. If you choose to read it, I don't want to see any tears or hear any sob stories. Any sorrow you may feel is yours to feel while not in my company. I could care less of these events and in my personal opinion, this is justice."

With that, the other man turned and left. Draco had stared at the spot Potter had vacated, confusion marring his brows. His gaze shifted to the folded Prophet and without a thought to Potter's speech, he opened it.

There, on the front page, was a picture of his father, looking just as proper and well suited as always, staring back at him. He gave a shuddering breath as he read the flashing headline.

'Lucius Malfoy found dead in his Wilshire home.'

Draco had closed the paper without reading anything else. There was no need to. He could guess the contents without any help. His father was dead because he'd failed to retrieve Greybacks property. Without Draco, the werewolf had no need to continue following the Dark Lord. Therefor, Lucius Malfoy could very well have lost him one of his best defenses. He'd failed the Dark Lord and was punished for it.

Draco had spent the next couple of hours sitting at the kitchen table trying to decide if he was sad that his father was dead. In the end he'd come to the conclusion that he felt a bit of sorrow for the man that had raised him. The man that he'd known in his childhood. However, he couldn't bring himself to mourn the man that had given him away like he would a cheap trinket.

He wondered if it would be best to do as Potter said and forget about ever laying eyes on the paper. Let the past stay in the past. He decided that it was probably better this way. His parents were once again together in the afterlife and it put him one step ahead of moving on with his life. With that thought in mind he stood and continued with his plans to explore. His first stop was outside.

So far he hadn't seen anything he liked.

Draco opened the door softly and froze. There were voices coming from the sitting room. They were muffled but he could make out the deep, and angry, baritone of Potter. He turned and eased the door shut as silently as he could. As he inched down the hallway to get a better idea of who was visiting, his shirt got caught on the small table where Potter kept what looked to be muggle ordering booklets. He winced as one on top shifted and fell lightly to the floor. He paused and listened to see if the soft thud had alerted anyone in the other room. When they continued to talk without breaking he resumed his slow pace. Just as he reached the open archway the floo flared to life and the room was quiet again. He waited, just to be sure that everyone had left and was about to peak around to confirm it with his own eye's, when Potter's voice called out to him.

"You can come out of hiding now. They're gone."

Draco blushed at being caught and entered the room. Potter had his eyes closed and was in the middle of running a hand through his untamable hair. He looked annoyed and amused, a combination Draco thought looked fairly odd. He remained silent, waiting for Potter speak first. He didn't have to wait long. With a deep sigh Potter turned and slowly moved closer.

"Still sneaking around, I see. At least I know some things never change."

Draco almost opened his mouth to apologize when he noticed the smirk on the edge of Potter's lips. He wasn't sure how to respond to Potter's comment once he realized the man wasn't angry. He nodded to the fireplace and asked, "Who was that?"

By this time Potter was directly in front of him, leaning on the back of the couch. "Aurors," he stated simply.

Draco felt the blood drain from his face. It wasn't hard to figure out why there were Aurors coming around so soon after his fathers death. Potter must have guessed his thoughts because he shook his head and said, "Nothing to worry about. I took care of it. I'll admit, though, you’re a lot more trouble than I thought you'd be."

The smirk was still present so Draco opted again not to apologize. "How did they know I was here? Does everyone know about us?" His voice shook but he didn't feel the least bit embarrassed. When you were the son... former son of a Death Eater, Aurors were not something to take lightly.

A wide grin covered the smirk as Draco finished speaking. He suddenly felt an uncomfortable knot form in his stomach as the Potter from last night hovered on the edge of the other mans amusement.

"No, only a few people from the Ministry know about... us. The only reason they knew you were here is because my name went on the records at St. Mungo's when I signed you out."

Draco let out a sigh of relief and Potter cocked his head to the side. "No other questions?"

At Draco's silent shake of the head the smile shrunk and Potter was once again serious.

"Then you read the paper, yes?"

Draco felt there was no need for an answer as he shifted his eyes to the floor. Potter must have had all the confirmation he needed from the silence because he straightened and made to go back to his study. As he passed Draco, he said in a firm voice, "Just remember what I said, then."

Guilt rushed through him and even though he couldn't figure out why he felt it, he turned and stopped Potter with a touch to his arm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Potter looked at him for a long moment and Draco felt as though he was being examined from the inside out. The dark haired man suddenly gave him a soft smile and reached out to pat his cheek, something his mother used to do when she wanted to pacify him.

"No need to be sorry. It was your decision after all." He nodded his head towards the front of the sitting room. "I believe you were interested in the television last night. Now is as good a time as any to check it out. I have a few more things to do before supper and I remember promising you your first lesson in cooking tonight. You should have some fun while you can."

He turned and left Draco to return to the study. Potter's words were meant to be a distraction, Draco knew, but the tele-thing was one of the top things he wanted to examine.

He shrugged. He'd try to figure Potter, and his unwarranted feeling of guilt, out later. Right now he wanted to see what this tele-thing did.

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Harry was pissed. Not at Draco or the Aurors. The Aurors had just been doing their job once they revealed the Dark Mark on the arm of a dead man and Draco was simply caught in the middle. No, he was pissed at Lucius Malfoy. Did the man think that his death would bring forgiveness for his sins? That one act to save his son would magically absolve him? Had Draco not been living in his house Harry would have simply put away his file on the Death Eater and forget about him. However, Draco was living with him and now it seemed the dead man would constantly be in the back of his mind. He honestly didn't think he could look at the mans son and not remember their conversation at the hospital.

Harry pulled out Malfoy Sr.'s file and skimmed through it. He'd never, in the three years he'd been working on it, found any solid evidence that he'd been a part of the deaths surrounding Harry. Of course, he was sure that the Death Eater had been present at each ambush, he was Voldemorts right hand after all, but there was no magical evidence that he'd been the one to throw the Killing Curse.

He fingered the edge of the stack of papers and wondered if he should just toss the file in the fire. There was no point in keeping it now as any evidence he found at this point would be irrelevant. If he kept it, eventually, it would turn into an obsession, he knew. With a short sigh, he shut the file and stood.

Before he knew where his feet were taking him, he was in front of the fireplace. He flicked the flames to life and before he could change his mind, he tossed the file in.

As the last bit of parchment turned to ash, Harry had no time to further broaden his anger over a dead man as a loud crash suddenly rang through the house.

His feet, once again, must have moved without him realizing it because all at once he was in the middle of the sitting room with his wand out and a pounding heart.

In front of him stood a very pale Draco next to the broken remains of his T.V. As Harry's heart rate slowed he found he couldn't get angry at the man, who looked ready to go into a dead faint, as would be his first reaction in a circumstance that held some normality. And right at that moment, Harry could tell there was nothing normal about this incident. He knew there was going to be some strange story behind it all.

He thought about turning around and ignoring the mess before him.

He didn't want to know.

His mouth, however, was obviously not communicating with his mind. "Did you hate it that much?"

He noted the hint of aspiration in his voice and almost rolled his eyes. Lucius Malfoy dead. Aurors at his floo. His television destroyed. Draco Malfoy looking as though hysterics weren't nearly enough.

This day needed to end.

He watched silently as Draco opened then closed his mouth, only to repeat the process again. His breath quickened and his face was suddenly bright red. Harry thought, as he watched the other man's eyes widen and intensify, that Draco might really, truly, go beyond the point of hysteria. He took a step forward to calm the distraught man before he passed out but stopped when Draco took two hasty steps away.

Harry frowned. Draco looked as if Harry was one step away from tearing him to shreds. Was he really that terrified of him? A sudden image of the blonde looking up at Fenrir Greyback with the same expression covering his face gave Harry a queasy shudder in his stomach. He wondered how he'd gotten so frightening to Draco, that he'd fear him as much as he did Greyback. As much as everyone else feared Voldemort. Was that how Voldemort's torture victims looked just before they had been murdered? Was that how Ron and Hermione and the rest of his friends had looked at the end of their stay in Voldemort's dungeons, before their bodies had been dumped like garbage in the middle of Diagon Ally?

A cold block of ice formed in his chest. Only a day into his stay and Draco already had Harry feeling like the world's biggest piece of shit. He was... ashamed. Ashamed that he could put that much fear into another person. The same person who looked to him for protection.

He needed to fix it. Somehow reassure Draco that he wasn't like Greyback. That he wouldn't hurt him as Greyback had. He just didn't know how.

He slowly put his wand down on the end table next to his leg and held his now empty hands in front of him.

In a soft, low voice Harry hoped was soothing, he said, "Draco... I won't come any further but I need you to calm down, okay? I'm not angry, just concerned. You look ready to faint and from where I'm at I won't be able to catch your fall. You could end up landing in the glass there, and seriously hurt yourself." He gave a short pause to watch Draco for signs of listening.

"Why don't you take a few deep breaths and tell me what happened?"

There was a long moment of silence. Draco seemed to stare right though Harry and he was growing more concerned by the minute.

Just as he was about to repeat himself, Draco said in a shuddering voice, "They're going to throw me in Azkaban."

Harry drew back and frowned again. That was... not what he expected to hear.

He shook his head. "What? What are talking about, Draco?"

Draco was now shaking. "The people. I-I think I might have s-smashed them. I'm going to go to prison." Draco spoke as if Harry wasn't there, as if he was talking to himself.

Harry licked his lips, growing more confused by the second.

"Draco, I don't understand. What people? There's no one here but us."

"In the box! There were small people in the box, Harry!" He pointed to the broken television, unable or unwilling, Harry couldn't decide, to look at it.

Sudden understanding tore through Harry like a wave and he took a deep sigh. Draco thought that the people in the T.V. were actually in the T.V.

And that he'd killed them when it fell over.

As the realization came to him so did the laughter. He tried to hold it back after the first bubble passed his lips but Draco's shocked face looking at him as if he'd lost his mind made him lose any control he had over it. The hilarity of it all had him doubled over. He couldn't look at Draco without a fresh round coming to the surface.

He placed one hand on the end table to brace himself and the other was wrapped around his middle. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like that but he couldn't deny that it had been too long. Harry hadn't felt this good in years.

As his laughter slowed to a stop he realized that Draco was muttering in a low voice, with a horrified expression on his face.

"It's not funny. It's not. They're going to send me to Azkaban and your laughing about it! You should be the one going, not me. Y-you kept people in a box and then you think it's funny when they're killed. Y-your no better than Greyback. I should have never signed that stupid contract. I should have gone back with my father. He'd be alive then and I would at least know my place."

Although he continued to ramble on, Harry no longer listened. He had sobered midway through Draco's rambling. It had been callous of him to laugh while the other man was truly afraid he'd murdered someone.

The good point, however, was that he now knew that Draco was more terrified of going to Azkaban than of him. Well, not as much as he'd thought, at least. Draco had just compared him to Greyback, so there had to be some fear. Harry gave a small shudder. He'd prefer no fear.

He gave a small sigh. "Draco," he started softly, interrupting the continued muttering. "When have you ever known me to laugh over a death?"

Draco rapidly shook his head. "I've never known you. We weren't schoolboy chums and for that I'll be eternally grateful. You're insane!"

Harry chuckled, still trying to look as unthreatening as possible. "Right now, anyone else certainly wouldn't call me insane."

Draco narrowed his eyes and Harry thought he could almost see a spark of the old Draco shimmering on the surface. Maybe, he thought, this incident would be the leap they needed to getting the blonde back to a healthy state of mind.

"Draco, you're not going to go to Azkaban." He held a hand up when Draco made a motion to argue. "There weren't really people in the television. It's kind of like magical portraits and photos. The people inside them aren't really there, right? It's just an image of them. The televison is like having a theater in your home. Except the actors are miles away. It's all recorded and sent through a cable wire into the T.V. It's not real."

Harry watched as Draco paled midway through his explanation. The man look as though he was battling an urge to fall to his knees begging forgiveness or just bypass everything and follow through with his earlier plan and pass out.

"So... I didn't hurt anyone?" His voice was hesitant, as if he still didn't quite understand.

Harry smiled. "No."

For a long moment neither said anything. Draco simply stared at him with a blank expression. Harry was close to taking back his earlier thought about Draco's mental health when, suddenly, the blonde's face turned and alarming shade of red and his nostrils flared.

"I think I'm going to be sick." It looked to Harry as though he finally realized how ridiculous he'd acted.

"I'd rather you didn't. I'm not a man that enjoys cleaning vomit, magically or not." His amusement was firmly back in place now that Draco was partially calmed down.

He held out his hand in invitation. "Come sit down. Tell me how all this came about."

Draco, with his eyes glued to the floor, shook his head. As he wiped his sweaty palms down the pajama bottom's Harry and given him the day before he said, "I should clean this up first."

He bent, as if to haul the television back onto its stand and Harry jumped forward, snatching his hand away.

"No! Don't touch it. It's still plugged in." He pointed to the outlet. The wire was pulled tight but still connected to the wall. "You could get electrocuted if you accidentally touch something inside." Harry knew there was probably some kind of emergency shut down in the T.V. to prevent electrocution but it was better safe than sorry.

He pulled Draco to a standing position and walked around him to unplug the cord. "I'll clean it later. For now I'd like to know what happened."

He guided Draco to the couch and pushed him gently onto it. Harry sat down next to him, leaving a few inches between them. "Okay, let's hear it."

Draco bit his lip and sighed deeply. "I feel like an idiot now."

Harry shook his head. "Don't. I't my fault, really. I should have told you about it before I let you loose." He paused and gave Draco a small smile. "I will admit though, I thought you'd get the connection between it and wizard portraits and photos. Even a pensive."

Draco sighed again. "I did, at first. Then I realized that, since I'd never seen or heard of anything like it before, it had to be muggle."

Harry nodded in encouragment. "Go on."

"I just wanted to know how the people got inside." He blushed, obviously from embarrassment. "I couldn't find any openings but I saw the cord connected to the wall. All I did was jiggle it a bit and it sparked. I started to back away but I bumped into the tele-thing. I tried catching it. It was just heavier than I thought."

Draco looked up at Harry with his eyes pleading. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break it."

"Don't worry about it. It can be replaced. In fact, I've been thinking of getting a new one anyway." It was true. Barely a month ago he'd found an entertainment system that had him drooling. He'd just been putting it off since he barely watched the T.V. he already had.

Harry smiled. "This just gives me a reason to do so." He paused and looked at Draco warily. "Just from now on, if you have the sudden urge to investigate the mysteries of my stuff, I'd like you to wait until I'm around to... supervise."

Draco's brows scrunched together. "Your not angry?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Oh."

Harry cocked his head to the side. He thought Draco would be relieved. Instead he looked as if he couldn't understand why Harry wasn't mad.

"Should I be? I'm sure I can trudge up a bit anger, if you'd like." He gave Draco a smile to let him know he was joking.

The other man continued to look confused. "I said a lot of awful things."

Harry nodded. "Yes, but you were in quite a state too. It's understandable."

Draco turned away. To Harry he looked as if he was trying to figure something out but couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was about to ask the other man if he was okay when Draco quickly faced Harry again.

"I don't understand you."

"What do you mean?"

Draco licked his lips, almost anxiously. "You... you change from one person to the next so often I can't keep up. At the hospital you were normal. Then, when we came here, you changed. I-I expected to be bent over the nearest surface the moment we arrived. Instead you gave me a bed, a room. You fed me. Gave me clothes. And through all that I've made you angry and irritated and Merlin knows what else. I broke something. And you still haven't punished me. I just... I just don't know my place. I don't know what you want of me."

His voice cracked as he finished and his eyes glistened. Harry stood and walked over to the cabinet built into the wall next to the fireplace. He pulled out a small vile and walked back to Draco, handing him the potion.

"Here, it will help you calm down."

Draco took the vile and, without any hesitance, gulped it down. Harry sat back down and ran a hand through his hair, wincing when he snagged on a knot.

"I'm trying to be... sympathetic, I guess. I can't fully understand what you went through but I'm sure it had to be painful and humiliating. Some of the things that happened to you I wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy. And that's saying something.

"I'll admit, I don't like you. The same way you don't like me. Yes, you're irritating. Yes, you make me angry. But I can't very well punish you for being curious or over an accident. The only thing that will get you into trouble here is if you break one of the rules. Do whatever you want, I don't care. Just mind the rules.

"As for sex, well, two years ago I would have bent you over the first available surface. But two years ago you held your chin high and spit fire at anyone crossing you path. I'd like to see some of that return before we do anything serious. For now, we're going to take things slow. I want you to get used to living here. I want you to be comfortable with my presence and my touch. I can wait until then."

Even though the potion seemed to be working, Draco still looked on edge, and to Harry's surprise, a little irritated.

He shook his head and held his hands on his lap with a white knuckled grip. "But why? Everything you've just said doesn't matter. Do you not understand your own contract? You own me. You can do what ever you want with me. Why bother?"

Harry couldn't help it. The anger bubbled inside him and he snapped out, "I should understand the contract, considering I put it together. It's obvious you don't however. Did you even read it before you signed?"

"I saw no point. Whether with you or Greyback my life isn't mine."

Harry reached out, ready to shake some sense into the other man. He stopped midway, however, when Draco flinched back. He dropped his hands and took several calming breaths before he spoke.

"It's comments like those that make me wonder whether you have half the fucking intelligence that I thought you had. You never, ever sign something without reading it first.

"There isn't going to be any cooking lesson tonight. You're going to sit right where you are and read every line of every page. You will memorize it. And you won't move until you have. Do you understand?"

At Draco's hasty nod he continued. "Good. Maybe then you'll know your place," he sneered.

"For now, let me explain a few things in a way you'll understand. It is my responsibility to feed you and clothe you. I must provide you with a bed and a room to call you own. Should you get sick or hurt I must provide you with the appropriate medical attention. If I break any of those, the contract is null and void. You'd be free to go, with your very own home and a hefty allowance each month.

"You are guaranteed almost any luxury you had before. All you have to do is ask for it. If I should deny something you asked for, there will always be a reason why I denied you."

He paused and glared at Draco, who was now leaning against the arm of the couch as if he was afraid Harry would lash out.

"I want you to listen very carefully to this last part. I am sick and tired of being compared to Greyback. I do not want to hear his name and mine used in the same breath again. I am not him. I don't get off on tears. I don't get off on pain. I don't get off on rape. Yes, we will fuck. Nothing will change that. I've wanted you since the moment you walked into my home begging for protection and I always get what I want. I don't want you in my bed because I've forced you. I want you in my bed because you enjoy it. And trust me, you will enjoy it, because thats what I want.

"As for your life, it's yours to live or take. You can't own a life you bloody fool. No one can. If you've been dealt a shitty hand of cards you make the best of it. If it makes you feel better, think of our arrangement as a job and when it's finished, you'll have a nice retirement plan. So don't moan and cry to me. You won't find any answers. Your life here will be a hell of a lot better than with the wolf."

Harry snapped his fingers and the contract fell into Draco's lap. He stood, pointing at it. "Read it until you can recite it word for word. Come find me when your through."

With that he snatched his wand from the end table, cleaned the remains of his television and stormed out.

He needed a strong drink. Badly.

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Well, did I go too far with the Draco/Muggle subject? Let me know what you think!!!