Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ It's Just Twelve Inches of Wood ❯ "Look! I think it likes me!" ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: The Coven 
If you don't read and review, Harry and Draco won't ever get to touch each other, lmao. And no one wants that, right?
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 01.05.2008 | Pages: 6 | Words: 8.3K | Visits: 569 | Status: Work In Progress
If you don't read and review, Harry and Draco won't ever get to touch each other, lmao. And no one wants that, right?
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 01.05.2008 | Pages: 6 | Words: 8.3K | Visits: 569 | Status: Work In Progress
It's Just 12 Inches of Wood by The Coven
Author: Graballz
Beta: Graballz (other betas to follow!)
Author's note--So many apologies for the delay in updating!!! Draca was supposed to write this chapter, but then her computer fried and she lost her stories!!! She and I switched, and I hammered this out in two days. And *sigh* I ended up using a TV/movie quote in this chapter. I just can't stop myself! More explanation at the bottom. It's 18 pages in Word, so I hope that means you wonderful readers will forgive us for the delay! Thank you for reading and THANK YOU to those who reviewed!
Chapter 4
"Look! I think it likes me!"
Luckily (or perhaps mercifully) for Draco, Harry didn't bring up the `incident' that morning. The black haired boy merely blushed whenever he met Draco's eyes, which caused Draco to wonder, but he wasn't about to be the one to vocalize anything about it. He alternated between glancing slyly at Harry and looking around as they began walking from their campsite towards the river, since that was where they had seen the Demiguises, and then Harry began walking along the bank. Draco followed rather than speak to him, and the silence between them grew heavier. Draco swallowed several times, wanting to say something but not knowing what to say for fear that Harry would make fun of him.
Harry had no idea why Draco would've cuddled up with him, but he was trying to deny (even to himself) that he had gotten hard while holding the blonde. It was just morning wood, he kept telling himself; it would've happened anyway, whether he was holding Draco or Snape (Harry suppressed a shudder and the urge to vomit) or a Blast-Ended Skrewt. He worried when Draco was quiet, instead of his usual snarky self. Harry wanted to say something to reassure him, but figured that Draco probably wouldn't want to be reminded. He looked embarrassed enough, and while Harry wasn't going to tease him, he also wasn't going to give the Slytherin the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten a rise out of Harry.
He figured that they should probably get started on looking for the Demiguise, since Ollivander would probably be angry if they took too long to find it, and so he started out in the direction that he had seen them last: the river. It didn't take them long to reach it, and then Harry started walking downstream, thinking that they'd have to find another Demiguise eventually. He opened his mouth half a dozen times to make inane chatter with Draco, who was trailing along behind him, and found himself closing his mouth, afraid to break the peaceful, if tense, quietness.
They had been walking for a while when they finally came to a bend in the river. As they turned the corner, the light broke through the trees, shining its rays down upon the rocks on the river banks, catching the small rapids and making them sparkle.
“Oh, Malfoy, look!” Harry stopped short, breathless from the beauty, and the gasp just escaped from his mouth before he could stop it. He also noticed movement in the trees, and several ape-like shapes appeared among them.
Draco had been looking at something else, and he didn't realize Harry had stopped until he ran into him from behind, almost knocking the Gryffindor into the river. Draco reacted instantly with the reflexes of the Seeker he was, grabbing Harry's pack and hauling him away from the bank before the Savior fell headlong into the current.
“Damn it, Potter—” Draco began, covering for his sudden concern for Harry's well-being with irritation when Harry spun around and clapped a hand over Draco's mouth!
“Shhh!” Harry tried to shush him quietly, green eyes darting around, but it was too late. The Demiguises that had been loping through the trees startled at Draco's exclamation and disappeared. He let out a groan and dropped his hand, closing his eyes momentarily.
Draco froze, his wide grey eyes fixed on his partner, trying to ascertain what danger they were in. His hand twitched as if going for his wand, but Harry hadn't gone for his. Then Harry groaned and let go of him, and Draco quickly backed up a step, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, trying to wipe away the tingles Harry left on his skin.
“What, Potter?” Draco's voice was lower than before, since he wasn't sure if it was safe to speak in a normal tone.
“What?” Harry squinted at Draco, confused.
“What do you mean `what'?” Draco looked incredulously at Harry. “Thick-headed Gryffindor.”
“Sneaky Slytherin,” Harry responded instantly. “What do YOU mean `what'? I said `what' because I don't know what you were asking when YOU asked ME `what'.”
“I said `what' as in `what's going on, Potter?' Why did you shush me?” Draco put his hands on his hips indignantly.
“You scared away the Demiguises,” Harry explained.
“What Demiguises?”
“The ones in the trees that were just here,” Harry waved his hand towards the forest line.
“I didn't see any bloody Demiguises,” Draco sniffed.
“That's because you scared them away,” Harry rolled his eyes as if that should have been obvious. “How could you not see them? What were you looking at, then?”
“Er,” Draco's ears began to burn, and he was fairly certain his face was turning red as well. He would rather throw himself into the river than admit he was trying very hard NOT to stare at Harry's arse as they were walking, which was the reason Draco had run into him in the first place. “Nothing. I didn't bloody well know they were here, so I couldn't have known that I was scaring them. Hey, how do you know I scared them, anyway? Maybe YOU scared them.”
“They were fine until you started yelling at me,” Harry cocked his head, trying to figure out why Draco would be blushing. “Of course, they could've been scared by the sudden movement when you knocked into me and then kept me from falling into the river. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Draco did a double take, and Harry merely smiled sweetly while inside, he was patting himself on the back for catching Draco off-guard again. The blonde silently cursed Harry for being unpredictable yet again, and then chastised himself for being out-Slytherin-ed. He, Draco, was supposed to be the unpredictable one, not the I'm-so-pure-and-noble-I-have-to-save-everyone-and-everything Savior of the wizarding world!
“Can't have you dying on my watch, Potter,” Draco said gruffly. “People will talk.”
“That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me,” Harry quipped back, batting his eyelashes.
“Um, okay, so how do we find the Demiguises again?” Draco changed the subject to more neutral ground, thoroughly uncomfortable with where the conversation had been heading.
“Search me,” Harry shrugged and spread his hands. “We found `em by accident the last two times. Keep walking, I guess.”
“Brilliant,” Draco muttered, shoving past Harry. He quickly realized that since he hadn't seen the Demiguises, he probably wasn't great to lead, and he turned back to the Gryffindor, making a sweeping motion. “After you, O Chosen One. You seem to be the one they show up for.”
Harry screwed up his face in disgust at the nickname, but he complied, weaving in and out of the trees where he had last seen their prey. Draco shook his head and followed Harry once more. There was silence between them once more, but it was nowhere near as oppressive as it was before. If it weren't for the fact that the tone of Draco's last words had been mocking and sarcastic, the silence would have felt almost like camaraderie. There was no trail, just roots and underbrush, and Harry picked his way carefully, making his own path, searching for any signs of the Demiguises. He sensed that Draco was stepping in his footsteps right behind him, and then he had to wonder whether he was possibly getting used to Malfoy if he was `sensing' him.
“I'm not all that great, you know,” Harry said over his shoulder, out of the blue.
“What are you talking about, Potter?” Draco was surprised, and he tripped over a tree root.
“You made it sound like the Demiguises just show up for me or like I know where they are or something,” Harry said. “I don't; I have no idea where they are or when they'll show up. I have no bloody clue, just like you, and yet, people always expect that I have some hidden knowledge that they don't or a master plan or something. I hate it.”
“That's not very reassuring, Potter,” Draco wrinkled his nose as something slimy slid up the tree they were currently passing. Harry whirled around, and Draco's head snapped up to look at him.
“That's the point, you git!” Harry said hotly. “Why does everyone think I'm the `reassuring' type? How can I reassure you when I don't even know? The sooner you and everyone else gets that through your thick heads, the sooner you'll realize that I'm not a hero!”
“Like it or not, Potter, you ARE a hero,” Draco replied calmly, arching one eyebrow at Harry's insistence. “You DID dispatch of the Dark Lord, after all. Regardless of whether you did it through skill and planning or sheer dumb Gryffindor luck, you still did it.”
“True, but it was all sheer dumb luck,” Harry muttered.
“Come now, Potter,” Draco was dumbfounded as Harry glared back at him. “You…you have a self-confidence problem!”
“I—what?” It was Harry's turn to be surprised as Draco came to that conclusion, looking as if he'd discovered a deep, dark secret. “I do not!”
“Then you ARE dumb if you think that you don't have skills,” Draco sneered. Harry was about to reply, but stopped short as he considered Draco's words. Yes, the blonde was sneering at him, but there was a backhanded compliment in there.
“Thanks, I think,” he mumbled, continuing their trek.
“Hey, what's that?” Draco changed the subject entirely, pointing to a distant spot that definitely seemed to be sparkling. Harry shrugged, following Draco over to the rather large nest-looking pile of rocks housing several soft silver eggs.
“Pretty,” Harry commented, standing side-by-side with Draco as they looked at the eggs. Draco nodded.
“It looks like a snake den, though,” he pursed his lips. Harry narrowed his eyes.
“How do you know what a snake den looks like?” He asked in surprise.
“Please, Potter,” Draco rolled his eyes, gesturing abstractly over his head. “The serpent IS the symbol of Slytherin. And I DID pay attention in that oaf's class when it was relevant.”
“Hagrid's not an oaf, Malfoy,” Harry said sharply. “You're more of an oaf than he is.”
Draco was in the middle of rolling his eyes when slight movement behind them caught his eye, and what he saw froze him to the spot. A large winged and plumed snake creature with two legs was glaring at them menacingly. Its wings were spread and its plume was quivering, which Draco took to mean that it was angry. Very angry.
“Potter,” Draco whispered, his mouth dry, and he tried not to move quickly or talk loudly. “Potter, for the love of Merlin and everything else that you might hold dear, Do. Not. Move.”
“What is it?” Draco could see Harry's panicked expression in his peripheral vision, and the Gryffindor began to carefully reach for his wand.
“It's a big snake,” Draco replied. “With wings. And feathers. And legs. And it's not happy to see us.”
Harry paused in his slow fumbling for his wand to glare suspiciously at the blonde.
“Are you having me on?” he hissed. “How the hell does a snake have wings, feathers, and legs? Then it's not a snake anymore. Don't think I haven't forgotten about your little Dementor prank; you prat, you just want to scare me.” Harry straightened as Draco shook his head back and forth insistently.
“Not this time, Potter,” Draco slowly reached out and grabbed Harry's arm to prevent him from making any sudden moves. “As much as I would love to be making this up right now…”
“You know, you're certainly a better actor than third year, Malfoy, but I'm not buying it,” Harry tried to pull his arm away, and the pale hand tightened into a claw.
“Harry.” The sound of his first name coming from Draco's lips made Harry stop, and when he turned his head, he was staring into guileless and perturbed grey eyes. “It's an Occamy. Do you remember learning about those?”
“That word sounds familiar, but it doesn't ring a bell,” Harry replied. He was disturbed that Draco would use his first name, and he risked a quick glance over his shoulder. There was SOMETHING that was just out of his line of vision that moved just as he looked, and he suddenly believed Draco whole-heartedly.
“Why doesn't that surprise me?” Draco sighed.
“Malfoy, is it going to eat us?” Harry covered Draco's hand with his own, squeezing in what he hoped was a reassuring manner (completely forgetting that he had just been yelling at Draco not ten minutes earlier about how he `wasn't the reassuring type').
“Probably,” Draco replied, jumping as the Occamy shifted again and began to hiss softly. “I think you just made it madder.”
“What doesn't THAT surprise me?” Harry groaned. Oddly, he wasn't as terrified as he should have been, since he was used to things trying to eat him. He was still nervous, to be sure, but definitely not as scared as a normal wizard would have been.
“You're USED to things trying to eat you?” Draco snapped, keeping his eyes unblinkingly on the snake as its wings drew up further and its head went back. He swore under his breath as he moved his hand inch by inch towards his wand.
“Well, yes,” Harry blinked, surprised by the simple question. “It's been a perk of being chased by Voldemort my entire life.”
“You bloody idiot,” Draco muttered. “You thick-headed, bloody idiot. You are about to be attacked from behind by a giant winged snake, and all you can say is that you're USED to it? You fucking wanker! THIS is why everyone thinks you're a hero!”
“But I don't think of it as being particularly heroic,” Harry countered, confused. He slowly turned, uneasy about Draco's description of being attacked in the back. “Hey, it's a snake!”
“Potter, what the FUCK do you think I've been telling you?” Draco yelled, his nostrils flaring as he finally lost his cool at Harry's seemingly-stupid comment.
The Occamy jumped and then lashed forward, striking at them with its teeth. Draco had no time to react, but Harry used the split second before the monster hit them to shove Draco to the side and throw himself in the opposite direction as the snake bit down on the air just above its nest, where they had been just standing.
“{Stop!}” Harry sprawled on his back and rolled back to his feet, drawing his wand. He yelled in Parseltongue, hoping that the creature would understand him. The snake gave him a curious glance, and then its attention flicked to Draco, who was still lying on his side in the grass and leaves where Harry had shoved him. His wand was out, but instead of being pointed at the threat, it lay limply in his hand as Draco stared at Harry, wide-eyed.
“{Hey! Don't look at my partner! He has my back, not yours!}” Harry advanced, trying to get in between the fallen blonde and the deadly serpent. It danced backwards a bit, spreading its plumage again as the forked tongue flickered in and out of its scaly mouth. “{I'm the one you should be worried about! Pay attention to me!}”
The Occamy dove for Harry again, and he cast Impedimenta, which slowed it down as he lunged for Draco, landing on top of him, and rolling them out of the way. He followed up with an Incarcerous that enraged the beast, and it struggled madly against the ropes.
“{Stop struggling and I will release you,}” Harry commanded, deciding that either the beast was so stubborn that it refused to listen to him or it didn't understand Parseltongue.
“If you're finished plotting my demise with it,” Draco's voice right next to his ear made Harry jump a mile. “We need to move away from the nest. Occamy are very protective of their eggs, and that's the reason it's being so aggressive. It thinks we want to harm the nest.”
“Damn it, Malfoy!” Harry cursed at Draco's ability to unnerve him. “How do you know that? And I wasn't plotting your demise, but I might start now.”
“Unlike you, Potter, I pay attention when something is of interest to me,” Draco somehow managed to look both slightly sheepish and nervous as they quickly made their way away from the nest while trying not to get within range of the bound mother. “Naturally, I studied about all of the different kinds of serpents, and the Occamy was covered as one of them.”
A short distance from the nest, they came across a small hollow splattered with blood. There were several fresh and partially eaten carcasses strewn around, and Harry knelt down to examine them while Draco tried to keep his horror to himself.
“They're Demiguise carcasses,” Harry determined.
“The Occamy is a carnivorous creature,” Draco raised an eyebrow at the slight anger in Harry's tone. “That is not a surprise. You being a Parselmouth, however, is.”
“Oh my lord, I was NOT plotting your demise, Malfoy,” Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated. “I'm sure it sounded like that since you're a Slytherin and you know all about serpents and people plotting against you, but you'll have to take my word for it that I was defending you.”
“My hero,” Draco put his hand over his heart and batted his eyelashes back at Harry.
“You bastard,” was the last thing Draco heard before Harry lunged at him, knocking him to the ground, straddling him, and punching him across the jaw, though not very hard. Draco squealed in shock and retaliated with several sharp jabs to Harry's midsection, knocking the breath out of the Gryffindor, which gave Draco the advantage to flip Harry off of him and get up to his knees. Harry grimly sat up, having accomplished what he wanted, which was to punch Draco, but he was having trouble getting his breath back. Draco felt the tender spot along his jaw line, glaring at Harry.
“You daft fucker! What the bloody hell was that for? You could've broken my jaw!” Draco's jaw obviously wasn't too sore for him to tear into Harry.
“Would it get you to shut up?” Harry wheezed nastily, clutching his stomach. Draco abruptly flung his pack off of his back and began rooting around in it, only to realize that he had grabbed the pack with the tent, the one Harry carried yesterday.
“Fuck you, Potter,” he muttered. “I did not sign on for this. Where's that damn Portkey?”
“Wait, Malfoy…” Harry's eyes widened in alarm as he realized Draco was planning to leave. Coughing slightly, he crouched next to Draco and grabbed his wrist. “Don't go. I'm-I'm sorry.”
“Get off of me!” Draco hissed furiously, wrenching his arm out of Harry's grasp. Just then, his stomach gave a loud gurgle, and Draco stood completely still, mortified and hoping that that hadn't happened. Harry paused, and HIS stomach answered back with a long and low rumble.
“I guess we're both hungry, yeah?” Harry asked softly, hoping to pacify Draco. Draco's mouth tightened; the food was in Harry's pack. He glanced back to his own pack, where he still hadn't found the Portkey, but he realized that he didn't want to leave…not really. He wanted the job, and truthfully, there was a small shred deep down inside Draco that still (after all these years and insults) wanted to be friends with Harry Potter, and to have the Savior of the Wizarding World all to himself without his stupid Gryffindor friends around…well, Draco didn't want to give that up without a fight.
“Are you going to punch me again?” He asked sourly, and Harry had the grace to look embarrassed.
“No,” he replied. “I'm sorry. I let my temper get the better of me, and I shouldn't have.”
“I—” Draco was at a loss for words, since Harry had never apologized to him before. “Well, don't let it happen again, Potter.” He finished lamely, kicking at an exposed root to cover his own urge to apologize. Apologies were for the weak, and as a Malfoy, Draco was not weak.
While angry, Harry usually acted before he thought, or reacted, especially to Draco. But when he was rational and level-headed, Harry had a knack for observing people, borne out of the long `seen but not heard' policy of the Dursleys whenever they had to reluctantly take him out in public. Now that he wasn't at Hogwarts anymore and with the Dark Lord dead, Harry's observational skills had increased (what with his `nothing to do' life as of late), and he caught a glimpse of something in Draco's eyes just before the blonde turned away and buried it again. Regret, perhaps? He felt that Draco was giving him a front, but rather than call him on it, Harry let it pass.
“Let's go to that small clearing over there and eat, shall we?” Harry pointed to an open area away from the Demiguise carcasses and the nest where the Occamy was still bound. Draco nodded and picked up his pack.
They worked together in silence, making a small campfire and setting up makeshift `chairs' (low stones that they sat on instead of the ground). Harry produced two `Meal-in-a-tins' from the wizarding branch of Tesco that had moved into Diagon Alley after the war. They ate companionably, the only sounds surrounding them being nature and spoons scraping against the tin.
Draco was just cleaning the last bit of his shepherd's pie from the bottom of his tin as he glanced up at Harry, who was staring intently into the bottom of his own tin, trying to get out a last bit of food as well. Draco froze, and Harry looked up at him as soon as the noise stopped.
“Harry, there's a Demiguise behind you,” he whispered, and Harry (who was quite tired of things sneaking up behind him) nodded, turning slowly so as not to frighten it. It was the mother Demiguise, Harry was sure of it, and the baby that Harry had saved yesterday peeked out from behind her.
Harry waited, neither boy moving a muscle, and the Demiguise held out her hand offering several large, juicy-looking pieces of fruit. Harry accepted it hesitantly, and the Demiguise pulled her lips back in a garish grin. The baby hopped up and down and then suddenly bolted out from behind the mother, around Harry, and jumped right up on the rock next to Draco!
The mother grunted but settled down as soon as she realized that Draco wasn't going to hurt her baby. If anything, Draco was more afraid of it than it was of him! The baby tugged on his sleeve until Draco put his hand out, and with several hoots of happiness, deposited a mess of weeds, large seed-pods, and mushrooms in Draco's hands.
“Potter, what's it doing?” Draco didn't take his eyes off of the baby Demiguise beside him, but he hoped that his partner would have an idea of what was happening.
“I think they're offering us food,” Harry replied. “Have you noticed that they seem to disappear if we're fighting and come back when we're not?”
“They are peaceful herbivores,” Draco said thoughtfully. “You might be right, Potter. They might only show themselves in times of peace. But how do we get the hair?” He hesitantly reached out towards the baby, pulling it back quickly when the mother grunted warningly. The baby, however, was delighted that Draco wanted to play and grabbed his hand, examining the long, pale fingers and palm excitedly. Draco squirmed as the baby's breath huffed over his hand.
“It tickles,” he admitted, his lips twisting into a smile against his will. Harry hid a chuckle at watching Draco interact with the baby. The ape-like offspring somehow made the blonde Slytherin seem more human, and Harry was keen to know why.
“Well, we can't hurt them,” Harry replied quietly.
“No. No, we can't hurt them,” Draco agreed, wiggling his fingers and making the baby grasp at them and cackle. “Look! I think it likes me!”
“I think you're right,” Harry grinned at Draco's enthusiastic reaction, and then realized that he was seeing a happy emotion from his partner, something he wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. That's what made him seem different!
The mother Demiguise tapped Harry on the shoulder and began pantomiming. Harry watched with interest as she put her hands together and moved them back and forth, imitating a snake's crawling, and then spread her hands, fingers curved up and out like wings, but with her thumbs touching. She made a look of horror and then one hand became a claw as she grabbed her other arm with it, which reminded Harry of the Occamy attacking. She hooted sadly, pointing to herself and her baby, and then made the snake motion again, but more confined, signaling that it was tied with ropes. Her lips pulled back in that disturbing grin again, and she leaned forward. Harry held his breath, and she patted him on the head!
“Hey, Malfoy,” he began, but Draco interrupted.
“Potter, a little help over here?” Harry turned and couldn't stop the chuckle that burst from his gut. He clapped his hand over his mouth so that he wouldn't offend Draco, but he couldn't help laughing behind his hand. Draco was still sitting on the rock, with the offered assortment of plants beside him, but he was bent over strangely, flinching, as the baby scrambled behind him, trying to climb up onto his back, reaching for Draco's pale blonde hair.
“Awww, what's the matter, Malfoy?” Harry teased. “I think it wants your hair.”
“I know that!” Draco said, trying to keep his head out of reach. He didn't sound angry, though. “It already grabbed my bangs and tugged, and then it started picking stuff out of my hair and eating it! I tried to stop it, but then it ran around and JUMPED on me! Potter, help me! I don't want to be mauled by a Demiguise!”
“It's just a baby,” Harry pointed out, some very unmanly noises coming from his throat as he watched Draco lose. “But what do you say, Malfoy?”
“NOW, Potter,” Draco tried to glare at his giggling partner, but the baby's thrashing about was also tickling him.
“Tsk, tsk,” Harry wished he had a camera. “The OTHER magic word.”
“It's going to be `Avada Kedavra' if you don't get your arse over here to help me,” Draco replied, squirming and laughing as the baby figured out that Draco was ticklish and abandoned its quest for his hair in favor of poking his sides and back. “Augh! Potter, now! Please!”
“Oh, wow!” Harry hadn't expected Draco to say `please' at all—he was just messing with the Slytherin—but he jumped up at once and stepped around the embers of their fire in one long stride. “Hey, baby,” he crooned, reaching out to the little one and getting its attention. “C'mere. Let's leave Dwaco alone, okay? Come to Hawwy.”
The baby sized Harry up, cocking its head at the baby-talk, and pushed off of Draco, leaping into Harry's arms. Draco gave an `oof' as the baby heaved, and Harry caught it easily. It reached up and touched Harry's glasses wonderingly, and then raised its hands to Harry's hair, where it began pulling gently as it rooted around, bringing its fingers to its lips every so often.
Harry jumped as arms reached around him to smack the baby on the head. It squealed, and Harry heard the mother's answering grunt behind him. The baby suddenly blinked invisible and then back to visibility, and unexpectedly launched itself over Harry's shoulder towards its mother.
He turned around just in time to watch the mother cradle the baby to her. She looked at both Harry and Draco, and then she turned invisible along with the little one. Harry cautiously reached out, but the space where she had been was empty. The Demiguises were gone.
“Potter, look,” he turned back to see Draco gathering up medium-length silky strands. “Hurry, they shed, and we only have a few minutes to get the hair into that bag before it turns invisible.”
Harry was about to open his mouth to ask how Draco knew that, but he saw several long strands that must have been from the mother, and he quickly picked them up, moving back to the rock where he had originally been sitting. There were quite a few hairs laying on the ground behind it, where the mother had appeared, and he grabbed them, memorizing where they were as they began to slowly fade. He looked down at his hand and saw that the other hairs he had were also fading.
Having gotten all that he could, Harry deftly opened his pack and rummaged for the magic bag Ollivander had given them. He used his teeth to pull the drawstring one-handed and dropped the hairs into it. He peeked inside and saw them shimmering.
“Hey, it works!” he exclaimed, holding the bag out to Draco, who looked like he was pinching a whole lot of nothing.
“Of course it works, Potter,” he said disdainfully, but without any real malice. He, too, looked in the bag and saw the hairs. “Good work, Potter. Ollivander will be pleased.”
“You too, Malfoy,” Harry replied, startled that Draco would compliment him. Draco closed the bag and handed it back to Harry, who put it away. “How'd you know about the hairs?”
“Lucky guess,” Draco shrugged. “It makes sense, if you think about it. We've been trying to track them, but we haven't seen any signs of them other than the creatures themselves. Everything sheds or leaves tracks, which means that the hairs turn invisible once they've left the Demiguise's body.”
“You sound like Hermione,” he said, duly impressed. “Except that she would've read it in a book, not figured it out in the actual situation.”
“Granger's always been smart,” Draco admitted. “My father was none-too-happy when I brought home the second-best marks our first year at Hogwarts.”
Harry had a sudden flashback to hiding in the cabinet at Borgin & Burkes, listening to Lucius Malfoy berate Draco for Hermione's success.
“I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin,” said Mr. Malfoy coldly, and Mr. Borgin said quickly, “No offense, sir, no offense meant—”
“Though if his grades don't pick up,” said Mr. Malfoy, more coldly still, “that may indeed be all he is fit for—”
“It's not my fault,” retorted Draco. “The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger—”
“I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam,” snapped Mr. Malfoy.
“Ha!” said Harry under his breath, pleased to see Draco looking both abashed and angry.
“I know,” Harry murmured. The glee and smug satisfaction he'd felt then faded hollowly into shame and sympathy for Draco. He was snapped out of his memories when Draco's voice turned acidic.
“How do you know, Potter?” Draco certainly didn't expect Harry to agree with him about his father, and a surge of panic shot through him. He fell back on nastiness to cover his surprise, lest Harry see him weak.
“Do you remember, right before our second year, going to Borgin & Burkes with your dad?” Harry wasn't sure how to start out telling Draco what he had seen, and from the way Draco was glaring at him, Harry wasn't sure how far he'd get before Draco tried to kill him.
“Yes,” Draco responded shortly. He remembered. He especially remembered the night before, when he had been shirtless and trembling, kneeling in front of his father's desk, gripping the edges tightly and trying not to cry out as his father whipped him for `failing to beat the Mudblood'. He also remembered after, when he had cleaned himself up and laid in his bed, crying, and his father had suddenly appeared in the doorway and told Draco that he would buy him the racing broom he had been wanting.
Draco had been naïve enough then to be grateful; now he knew that all of the presents and gifts were bribery meant to keep Draco silenced about the abuse he had suffered at home. Lucius had a temper, but he didn't lash out at Draco often. When he did, though, it was bad. Lucius would never make a scene in public, however, and Draco had known that he could get away with more when others were around.
“Do you remember that cabinet you were about to open when your dad called you away?” Harry licked his lips nervously.
“Get to the point, Potter,” Draco snarled, uneasy with how open his memories felt.
“Well, I was hiding in that cabinet,” Harry admitted. Draco's mouth dropped. “I had accidentally Flooed into Knockturn Alley instead of Diagon Alley. I was with the Weasleys—” Harry stopped rambling as Draco's face began to turn an unhealthy shade of purple as he spluttered.
“You—you—you—” Draco was gobsmacked, and he couldn't put a sentence together. He kicked viciously at his forgotten and empty tin, and Harry ducked, knowing that Draco would probably be angry at being spied on, but he hadn't anticipated HOW angry.
“Malfoy, I'm sorry,” Harry tried, but it was drowned out by Draco gnashing his teeth and letting out an enraged scream. “Look, it was, what, six years ago. I'm sorry! What's the big deal?”
Draco suddenly got hold of himself and concentrated on controlling his breathing and not hyperventilating. He reminded himself that Harry didn't know, that he was overreacting to a very small revelation, and that it wasn't a big deal. His father was getting what he deserved; even if he wasn't in Azkaban for beating Draco, he was still suffering. No one knew.
“Nothing, Potter,” Draco took a deep breath but refused to look Harry in the face. “I'm fine. You're right; it was six years ago, and it can't be changed.”
Harry screwed up his face at the defeated tone in Draco's voice that carried a dark undertone. It felt as though Draco were talking about something else, but he didn't have any idea what.
“Malfoy,” he began carefully. “I know we didn't get on at Hogwarts, but we're working together now. The past can't be changed, but I'm…I'm a good listener if you wanted to talk about anything, okay?”
Draco blinked at Harry. It almost sounded like the git KNEW that Draco had things he wanted to talk about, and it almost sounded like Harry was offering to be his friend.
“I don't have anything I want to talk about, Potter,” Draco lied. “And even if I did—which I DON'T—what makes you think that I'd talk to YOU about it, Saint Potter?”
“I might understand better than you think,” Harry replied mysteriously, refusing to give in to the rise of anger he felt at Draco's petty name-calling. He was beginning to see a pattern that he had completely missed at Hogwarts; Draco deliberately provoked him by throwing his fame back into his face whenever he wanted to cover for something. It definitely merited more exploration.
“Well, I don't want to talk,” Draco spat nastily. “We got what we came for. Let's just go.”
“What about the Occamy?” Harry sighed, once again allowing Draco to change the subject.
“What about it?”
“Are we just going to leave it tied up?”
“Why not? It'll get out of the ropes eventually,” Draco shrugged. Harry squinted at him.
“You are fine with just leaving it, helpless and defenseless, when we could do something about it?” Harry phrased his question very specifically, keen on hearing Draco's answer.
“You have too much of a hero complex,” Draco narrowed his eyes, wondering what Potter was playing at. He, too, responded with deliberately chosen words. “It's not completely helpless and defenseless. It tried to kill us, remember? Besides, it's not like we'd be doing it any favors. The situation never changes.”
Now Harry knew they weren't talking about the Occamy, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Draco might have a secret much like his own. It was astonishing to him, however, that Draco had reacted so differently, so coldly to a similar situation, while he, Harry, had come away from the Dursleys eager to help anyone who needed it and who looked for ways to change the situation.
“I think you and I might be more alike than just our preferences for coffee,” Harry said. “But I can't just leave it there. Get the Portkey out and have it ready. It'll probably want to chase me once I let it go.”
“And that doesn't make you think that you SHOULDN'T let it go, Potter?” Draco stared at him incredulously.
“If someone or something is in trouble, Malfoy, I want to help, even if it means it turns on me,” Harry returned Draco's gaze full force, and the Slytherin flinched, blinking first.
“Are you going to tell it to kill me again?” Draco snarked.
“I did not tell it to kill you,” Harry retorted, flushing when he remembered what he DID say about Draco, and he hoped that his assumption about the blonde `having his back' wasn't erroneous. “Is that what it sounded like?”
“You could have been inviting it for tea and crumpets and it still would've sounded like death,” Draco informed him. “You can't hear that?”
“Well, I've only heard Parseltongue once before that wasn't associated with Voldemort,” Harry said, thinking of Ron's one strangled, hissing word. Every time Voldemort spoke Parseltongue, it WAS associated with death.
“It sounds creepy,” Draco winced at the name, long borne of habit. “But it doesn't sound QUITE as menacing coming from you as it did Him.”
“Good to know,” Harry responded cautiously, wondering if perhaps Draco had been a girl in a former life, since his moods flipped faster than even Ginny's had. “But it didn't seem to understand me, so no, I won't speak Parseltongue again. If you could be ready with the Portkey, though, that would be helpful.”
“Oh, sod it,” Draco sighed, picking up his pack. “I'll just come with you. No sense in you running all over the countryside with a pissed-off Occamy on your tail. Knowing you, you'd probably run the other way and then I'd be stuck looking for your dead arse. Like I said, Potter, can't have you dying on my watch.” Draco's lips twisted into a wry, humorless smirk. “Unless I kill you myself, of course.”
“Of course,” Harry echoed, rolling his eyes.
They made their way back to the Occamy nest, where the giant snake was still struggling. It had broken several of the ropes already, but not enough to free itself. Draco found the Portkey and held it gingerly by its edges so that it wouldn't activate. He held it out and Harry hovered his left hand over it.
“Okay, so I'm going to end the spell and then we touch the Portkey, yeah?” Harry clarified.
“See, Potter, and you said you didn't have a plan,” Draco nudged him playfully. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Let's just do it.”
The image of cuddling with Harry flashed through Draco's mind as he said it, but Harry waved his wand and the ropes vanished. The Occamy struggled to its feet and charged them, but the boys grabbed the disc and were Portkeyed out of there before it reached them.
They landed back at Ollivander's, startling the old wandmaker and his daughter, who had shown up for the day to assist him, since his new assistants were out gathering ingredients. There was a small black girl who could barely see over the counter staring at them with wide eyes, and the adults with her grabbed her from behind reflexively as Harry and Draco appeared in the middle of the shop.
Draco wasn't quite fast enough to prevent Harry from falling upon landing (but he'd get better at that). He blushed at the intimate thought of Harry, who was currently disentangling himself from his pack and getting to his feet while trying to smile politely at the little girl, who had begun screeching, `Harry Potter! It's Harry Potter! Uncle Lee, look!'
“Yes, yes, it's Harry Potter,” Ollivander croaked. “Mr. and Mrs. Jordan were just bringing little Giselle in to find a wand.”
“Jordan? Lee Jordan?” Harry stopped and looked up at the father's face. “You got married? You have a kid?”
“Heya, Harry,” Lee's face was grinning from ear to ear. His hair was still in dreadlocks. “Nah, she's my niece. But my sister had to work, so the wife and I volunteered to get her outfitted for Hogwarts. Pretty good times we had, eh? So how've you been keeping?”
“I'm good,” Harry tried to recall hearing about Lee's marriage. “I hadn't heard you were engaged.”
“Private affair,” Lee's face turned somber. “Just us and the families. George Weasley stood up with me.” Harry looked down momentarily, reminded of Fred's death and how Fred, George, and Lee used to be the best of friends.
“Congratulations, Lee,” Harry said, his face pinched as a nod of understanding and remembered sorrow passed between them. “Don't let us keep you from shopping, of course. We were just returning from our mission.”
“The great Harry Potter still goes on missions?” Lee raised his eyebrow as he looked over to Harry's partner, who had remained quiet through the entire exchange. “Malfoy.”
“Hello,” Draco responded quietly, never having been introduced to the black man who looked a couple of years older than Harry and him. Draco noted Harry's lack of temper at Lee calling him `the great Harry Potter'.
“Easy, Lee,” Harry warned with a quick glance at Draco. “Yeah, we're working together now. For Mr. Ollivander, in fact.”
“They are fetching my ingredients,” Ollivander broke in, drawing the attention of the family back to the task at hand. “And they can take it to the back while I finish helping you.”
Taking their cue, Harry and Draco disappeared behind the counter, but not before Lee shook Harry's hand again.
“Friend of yours, I take it?” Draco inclined his chin towards the front room.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Fellow Gryffindor. He commentated for Quidditch.”
“That's where I knew his voice from!” Draco snapped his fingers in recognition. “What does he have to do with the Weasleys?”
“He and Fred and George were best buddies,” Harry explained. “Fred was killed in the Final Battle.”
“Yeah, I heard that,” Draco said. “My condolences.”
“Thanks,” Harry looked at Draco curiously, but the blonde had already begun to unpack the magical bag. Ollivander came hobbling in just then.
“Nice family, they are,” he croaked. “Now, did you get it?” Draco held out the bag, and Ollivander cheered as he looked into it. “Perfect! Just perfect! I knew I didn't go wrong hiring you two! You ended up with more than I expected.”
“The Demiguises were friendly,” Harry supplied, exchanging a small smile with Draco at the memory of the baby.
“I forgot to tell you before you left,” Ollivander said. “But I don't want to hear of you hurting a creature to get the ingredient if you can help it.” As he spoke, his gaze slid to Draco as if he were silently accusing the Slytherin of harming small, furry creatures for sport.
“Of course not!” Harry jumped in. “We're not monsters!”
“You don't have to worry, sir,” Draco said, his face hardening at the implied insult. “I will try my very best to restrain my homicidal urges.”
“Shut up, Malfoy; you don't have homicidal urges,” Harry snapped, angry that Draco didn't defend himself. “You're not a killer.” Draco's eyes darkened at the reminder. “Ollivander, that was uncalled for.”
“Mister Potter, I'm sure I don't know WHAT you're talking about,” Ollivander shot back. “But you both did very well for today. Take the rest off, and I'll see you back here bright and early for your next task. Now out with you!”
As they were shooed out of the wandmaker's shop, Harry was sure that Ollivander had been a Slytherin from the way he dodged Harry's accusations. He found himself facing Draco in the middle of the street, both unsure of how to say goodbye after being together for a day and night.
“Um, Malfoy,” Harry began. “You wouldn't want to grab a drink, would you?”
Draco just realized that they had been turned out of the shop so fast that they hadn't had a chance to ask what their next assignment would be. Then he surprised himself by answering yes to Harry's invitation!
TBC!!!
Chapter notes:
1. “{Hey! Don't look at my partner! He has my back, not yours!}” {} indicates Parseltongue, by the way. This quote is from Law & Order: Criminal Intent. (I'm sorry, I know I've been putting quotes into my stories, and I really tried hard not to! But it just fit! I thought, anyway...)
2. The italicized paragraphs were from Book 2, CoS, page 52.
3. I took some liberties with Demiguises and Occamy...like the fact that the Demiguises were playful and only came out when the boys weren't fighting (since the HP Lexicon said that they were peaceful creatures.)
4. I also took liberties with "wizarding Tesco" and 'Meal-in-a-Tin'...to my knowledge, there is no such thing.
5. I also took a LOT of liberty with Lee Jordan. I made that up. I also tried to make it as DH-compliant as possible, but if people don't want Fred to be dead, then just tell me and I'll rewrite the chapter so that Fred's not dead.
Author's note--SO MANY apologies again for the delay!!! I will be sending this chapter to our betas, and if they have any changes, I'll post the updated chapter as soon as they give me the changes. We really appreciate everyone who has read, reviewed, and stuck with us!!!
This chapter was formerly titled Draco and the Baby Demiguise. I couldn't get the image of Draco and the baby Demiguise out of my head, so I used a phrase from their interaction! SOO CUTE Do you like the first one or the current chapter title better?
Much love,
Graballz
Author: Graballz
Beta: Graballz (other betas to follow!)
Author's note--So many apologies for the delay in updating!!! Draca was supposed to write this chapter, but then her computer fried and she lost her stories!!! She and I switched, and I hammered this out in two days. And *sigh* I ended up using a TV/movie quote in this chapter. I just can't stop myself! More explanation at the bottom. It's 18 pages in Word, so I hope that means you wonderful readers will forgive us for the delay! Thank you for reading and THANK YOU to those who reviewed!
Chapter 4
"Look! I think it likes me!"
Luckily (or perhaps mercifully) for Draco, Harry didn't bring up the `incident' that morning. The black haired boy merely blushed whenever he met Draco's eyes, which caused Draco to wonder, but he wasn't about to be the one to vocalize anything about it. He alternated between glancing slyly at Harry and looking around as they began walking from their campsite towards the river, since that was where they had seen the Demiguises, and then Harry began walking along the bank. Draco followed rather than speak to him, and the silence between them grew heavier. Draco swallowed several times, wanting to say something but not knowing what to say for fear that Harry would make fun of him.
Harry had no idea why Draco would've cuddled up with him, but he was trying to deny (even to himself) that he had gotten hard while holding the blonde. It was just morning wood, he kept telling himself; it would've happened anyway, whether he was holding Draco or Snape (Harry suppressed a shudder and the urge to vomit) or a Blast-Ended Skrewt. He worried when Draco was quiet, instead of his usual snarky self. Harry wanted to say something to reassure him, but figured that Draco probably wouldn't want to be reminded. He looked embarrassed enough, and while Harry wasn't going to tease him, he also wasn't going to give the Slytherin the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten a rise out of Harry.
He figured that they should probably get started on looking for the Demiguise, since Ollivander would probably be angry if they took too long to find it, and so he started out in the direction that he had seen them last: the river. It didn't take them long to reach it, and then Harry started walking downstream, thinking that they'd have to find another Demiguise eventually. He opened his mouth half a dozen times to make inane chatter with Draco, who was trailing along behind him, and found himself closing his mouth, afraid to break the peaceful, if tense, quietness.
They had been walking for a while when they finally came to a bend in the river. As they turned the corner, the light broke through the trees, shining its rays down upon the rocks on the river banks, catching the small rapids and making them sparkle.
“Oh, Malfoy, look!” Harry stopped short, breathless from the beauty, and the gasp just escaped from his mouth before he could stop it. He also noticed movement in the trees, and several ape-like shapes appeared among them.
Draco had been looking at something else, and he didn't realize Harry had stopped until he ran into him from behind, almost knocking the Gryffindor into the river. Draco reacted instantly with the reflexes of the Seeker he was, grabbing Harry's pack and hauling him away from the bank before the Savior fell headlong into the current.
“Damn it, Potter—” Draco began, covering for his sudden concern for Harry's well-being with irritation when Harry spun around and clapped a hand over Draco's mouth!
“Shhh!” Harry tried to shush him quietly, green eyes darting around, but it was too late. The Demiguises that had been loping through the trees startled at Draco's exclamation and disappeared. He let out a groan and dropped his hand, closing his eyes momentarily.
Draco froze, his wide grey eyes fixed on his partner, trying to ascertain what danger they were in. His hand twitched as if going for his wand, but Harry hadn't gone for his. Then Harry groaned and let go of him, and Draco quickly backed up a step, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, trying to wipe away the tingles Harry left on his skin.
“What, Potter?” Draco's voice was lower than before, since he wasn't sure if it was safe to speak in a normal tone.
“What?” Harry squinted at Draco, confused.
“What do you mean `what'?” Draco looked incredulously at Harry. “Thick-headed Gryffindor.”
“Sneaky Slytherin,” Harry responded instantly. “What do YOU mean `what'? I said `what' because I don't know what you were asking when YOU asked ME `what'.”
“I said `what' as in `what's going on, Potter?' Why did you shush me?” Draco put his hands on his hips indignantly.
“You scared away the Demiguises,” Harry explained.
“What Demiguises?”
“The ones in the trees that were just here,” Harry waved his hand towards the forest line.
“I didn't see any bloody Demiguises,” Draco sniffed.
“That's because you scared them away,” Harry rolled his eyes as if that should have been obvious. “How could you not see them? What were you looking at, then?”
“Er,” Draco's ears began to burn, and he was fairly certain his face was turning red as well. He would rather throw himself into the river than admit he was trying very hard NOT to stare at Harry's arse as they were walking, which was the reason Draco had run into him in the first place. “Nothing. I didn't bloody well know they were here, so I couldn't have known that I was scaring them. Hey, how do you know I scared them, anyway? Maybe YOU scared them.”
“They were fine until you started yelling at me,” Harry cocked his head, trying to figure out why Draco would be blushing. “Of course, they could've been scared by the sudden movement when you knocked into me and then kept me from falling into the river. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Draco did a double take, and Harry merely smiled sweetly while inside, he was patting himself on the back for catching Draco off-guard again. The blonde silently cursed Harry for being unpredictable yet again, and then chastised himself for being out-Slytherin-ed. He, Draco, was supposed to be the unpredictable one, not the I'm-so-pure-and-noble-I-have-to-save-everyone-and-everything Savior of the wizarding world!
“Can't have you dying on my watch, Potter,” Draco said gruffly. “People will talk.”
“That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me,” Harry quipped back, batting his eyelashes.
“Um, okay, so how do we find the Demiguises again?” Draco changed the subject to more neutral ground, thoroughly uncomfortable with where the conversation had been heading.
“Search me,” Harry shrugged and spread his hands. “We found `em by accident the last two times. Keep walking, I guess.”
“Brilliant,” Draco muttered, shoving past Harry. He quickly realized that since he hadn't seen the Demiguises, he probably wasn't great to lead, and he turned back to the Gryffindor, making a sweeping motion. “After you, O Chosen One. You seem to be the one they show up for.”
Harry screwed up his face in disgust at the nickname, but he complied, weaving in and out of the trees where he had last seen their prey. Draco shook his head and followed Harry once more. There was silence between them once more, but it was nowhere near as oppressive as it was before. If it weren't for the fact that the tone of Draco's last words had been mocking and sarcastic, the silence would have felt almost like camaraderie. There was no trail, just roots and underbrush, and Harry picked his way carefully, making his own path, searching for any signs of the Demiguises. He sensed that Draco was stepping in his footsteps right behind him, and then he had to wonder whether he was possibly getting used to Malfoy if he was `sensing' him.
“I'm not all that great, you know,” Harry said over his shoulder, out of the blue.
“What are you talking about, Potter?” Draco was surprised, and he tripped over a tree root.
“You made it sound like the Demiguises just show up for me or like I know where they are or something,” Harry said. “I don't; I have no idea where they are or when they'll show up. I have no bloody clue, just like you, and yet, people always expect that I have some hidden knowledge that they don't or a master plan or something. I hate it.”
“That's not very reassuring, Potter,” Draco wrinkled his nose as something slimy slid up the tree they were currently passing. Harry whirled around, and Draco's head snapped up to look at him.
“That's the point, you git!” Harry said hotly. “Why does everyone think I'm the `reassuring' type? How can I reassure you when I don't even know? The sooner you and everyone else gets that through your thick heads, the sooner you'll realize that I'm not a hero!”
“Like it or not, Potter, you ARE a hero,” Draco replied calmly, arching one eyebrow at Harry's insistence. “You DID dispatch of the Dark Lord, after all. Regardless of whether you did it through skill and planning or sheer dumb Gryffindor luck, you still did it.”
“True, but it was all sheer dumb luck,” Harry muttered.
“Come now, Potter,” Draco was dumbfounded as Harry glared back at him. “You…you have a self-confidence problem!”
“I—what?” It was Harry's turn to be surprised as Draco came to that conclusion, looking as if he'd discovered a deep, dark secret. “I do not!”
“Then you ARE dumb if you think that you don't have skills,” Draco sneered. Harry was about to reply, but stopped short as he considered Draco's words. Yes, the blonde was sneering at him, but there was a backhanded compliment in there.
“Thanks, I think,” he mumbled, continuing their trek.
“Hey, what's that?” Draco changed the subject entirely, pointing to a distant spot that definitely seemed to be sparkling. Harry shrugged, following Draco over to the rather large nest-looking pile of rocks housing several soft silver eggs.
“Pretty,” Harry commented, standing side-by-side with Draco as they looked at the eggs. Draco nodded.
“It looks like a snake den, though,” he pursed his lips. Harry narrowed his eyes.
“How do you know what a snake den looks like?” He asked in surprise.
“Please, Potter,” Draco rolled his eyes, gesturing abstractly over his head. “The serpent IS the symbol of Slytherin. And I DID pay attention in that oaf's class when it was relevant.”
“Hagrid's not an oaf, Malfoy,” Harry said sharply. “You're more of an oaf than he is.”
Draco was in the middle of rolling his eyes when slight movement behind them caught his eye, and what he saw froze him to the spot. A large winged and plumed snake creature with two legs was glaring at them menacingly. Its wings were spread and its plume was quivering, which Draco took to mean that it was angry. Very angry.
“Potter,” Draco whispered, his mouth dry, and he tried not to move quickly or talk loudly. “Potter, for the love of Merlin and everything else that you might hold dear, Do. Not. Move.”
“What is it?” Draco could see Harry's panicked expression in his peripheral vision, and the Gryffindor began to carefully reach for his wand.
“It's a big snake,” Draco replied. “With wings. And feathers. And legs. And it's not happy to see us.”
Harry paused in his slow fumbling for his wand to glare suspiciously at the blonde.
“Are you having me on?” he hissed. “How the hell does a snake have wings, feathers, and legs? Then it's not a snake anymore. Don't think I haven't forgotten about your little Dementor prank; you prat, you just want to scare me.” Harry straightened as Draco shook his head back and forth insistently.
“Not this time, Potter,” Draco slowly reached out and grabbed Harry's arm to prevent him from making any sudden moves. “As much as I would love to be making this up right now…”
“You know, you're certainly a better actor than third year, Malfoy, but I'm not buying it,” Harry tried to pull his arm away, and the pale hand tightened into a claw.
“Harry.” The sound of his first name coming from Draco's lips made Harry stop, and when he turned his head, he was staring into guileless and perturbed grey eyes. “It's an Occamy. Do you remember learning about those?”
“That word sounds familiar, but it doesn't ring a bell,” Harry replied. He was disturbed that Draco would use his first name, and he risked a quick glance over his shoulder. There was SOMETHING that was just out of his line of vision that moved just as he looked, and he suddenly believed Draco whole-heartedly.
“Why doesn't that surprise me?” Draco sighed.
“Malfoy, is it going to eat us?” Harry covered Draco's hand with his own, squeezing in what he hoped was a reassuring manner (completely forgetting that he had just been yelling at Draco not ten minutes earlier about how he `wasn't the reassuring type').
“Probably,” Draco replied, jumping as the Occamy shifted again and began to hiss softly. “I think you just made it madder.”
“What doesn't THAT surprise me?” Harry groaned. Oddly, he wasn't as terrified as he should have been, since he was used to things trying to eat him. He was still nervous, to be sure, but definitely not as scared as a normal wizard would have been.
“You're USED to things trying to eat you?” Draco snapped, keeping his eyes unblinkingly on the snake as its wings drew up further and its head went back. He swore under his breath as he moved his hand inch by inch towards his wand.
“Well, yes,” Harry blinked, surprised by the simple question. “It's been a perk of being chased by Voldemort my entire life.”
“You bloody idiot,” Draco muttered. “You thick-headed, bloody idiot. You are about to be attacked from behind by a giant winged snake, and all you can say is that you're USED to it? You fucking wanker! THIS is why everyone thinks you're a hero!”
“But I don't think of it as being particularly heroic,” Harry countered, confused. He slowly turned, uneasy about Draco's description of being attacked in the back. “Hey, it's a snake!”
“Potter, what the FUCK do you think I've been telling you?” Draco yelled, his nostrils flaring as he finally lost his cool at Harry's seemingly-stupid comment.
The Occamy jumped and then lashed forward, striking at them with its teeth. Draco had no time to react, but Harry used the split second before the monster hit them to shove Draco to the side and throw himself in the opposite direction as the snake bit down on the air just above its nest, where they had been just standing.
“{Stop!}” Harry sprawled on his back and rolled back to his feet, drawing his wand. He yelled in Parseltongue, hoping that the creature would understand him. The snake gave him a curious glance, and then its attention flicked to Draco, who was still lying on his side in the grass and leaves where Harry had shoved him. His wand was out, but instead of being pointed at the threat, it lay limply in his hand as Draco stared at Harry, wide-eyed.
“{Hey! Don't look at my partner! He has my back, not yours!}” Harry advanced, trying to get in between the fallen blonde and the deadly serpent. It danced backwards a bit, spreading its plumage again as the forked tongue flickered in and out of its scaly mouth. “{I'm the one you should be worried about! Pay attention to me!}”
The Occamy dove for Harry again, and he cast Impedimenta, which slowed it down as he lunged for Draco, landing on top of him, and rolling them out of the way. He followed up with an Incarcerous that enraged the beast, and it struggled madly against the ropes.
“{Stop struggling and I will release you,}” Harry commanded, deciding that either the beast was so stubborn that it refused to listen to him or it didn't understand Parseltongue.
“If you're finished plotting my demise with it,” Draco's voice right next to his ear made Harry jump a mile. “We need to move away from the nest. Occamy are very protective of their eggs, and that's the reason it's being so aggressive. It thinks we want to harm the nest.”
“Damn it, Malfoy!” Harry cursed at Draco's ability to unnerve him. “How do you know that? And I wasn't plotting your demise, but I might start now.”
“Unlike you, Potter, I pay attention when something is of interest to me,” Draco somehow managed to look both slightly sheepish and nervous as they quickly made their way away from the nest while trying not to get within range of the bound mother. “Naturally, I studied about all of the different kinds of serpents, and the Occamy was covered as one of them.”
A short distance from the nest, they came across a small hollow splattered with blood. There were several fresh and partially eaten carcasses strewn around, and Harry knelt down to examine them while Draco tried to keep his horror to himself.
“They're Demiguise carcasses,” Harry determined.
“The Occamy is a carnivorous creature,” Draco raised an eyebrow at the slight anger in Harry's tone. “That is not a surprise. You being a Parselmouth, however, is.”
“Oh my lord, I was NOT plotting your demise, Malfoy,” Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated. “I'm sure it sounded like that since you're a Slytherin and you know all about serpents and people plotting against you, but you'll have to take my word for it that I was defending you.”
“My hero,” Draco put his hand over his heart and batted his eyelashes back at Harry.
“You bastard,” was the last thing Draco heard before Harry lunged at him, knocking him to the ground, straddling him, and punching him across the jaw, though not very hard. Draco squealed in shock and retaliated with several sharp jabs to Harry's midsection, knocking the breath out of the Gryffindor, which gave Draco the advantage to flip Harry off of him and get up to his knees. Harry grimly sat up, having accomplished what he wanted, which was to punch Draco, but he was having trouble getting his breath back. Draco felt the tender spot along his jaw line, glaring at Harry.
“You daft fucker! What the bloody hell was that for? You could've broken my jaw!” Draco's jaw obviously wasn't too sore for him to tear into Harry.
“Would it get you to shut up?” Harry wheezed nastily, clutching his stomach. Draco abruptly flung his pack off of his back and began rooting around in it, only to realize that he had grabbed the pack with the tent, the one Harry carried yesterday.
“Fuck you, Potter,” he muttered. “I did not sign on for this. Where's that damn Portkey?”
“Wait, Malfoy…” Harry's eyes widened in alarm as he realized Draco was planning to leave. Coughing slightly, he crouched next to Draco and grabbed his wrist. “Don't go. I'm-I'm sorry.”
“Get off of me!” Draco hissed furiously, wrenching his arm out of Harry's grasp. Just then, his stomach gave a loud gurgle, and Draco stood completely still, mortified and hoping that that hadn't happened. Harry paused, and HIS stomach answered back with a long and low rumble.
“I guess we're both hungry, yeah?” Harry asked softly, hoping to pacify Draco. Draco's mouth tightened; the food was in Harry's pack. He glanced back to his own pack, where he still hadn't found the Portkey, but he realized that he didn't want to leave…not really. He wanted the job, and truthfully, there was a small shred deep down inside Draco that still (after all these years and insults) wanted to be friends with Harry Potter, and to have the Savior of the Wizarding World all to himself without his stupid Gryffindor friends around…well, Draco didn't want to give that up without a fight.
“Are you going to punch me again?” He asked sourly, and Harry had the grace to look embarrassed.
“No,” he replied. “I'm sorry. I let my temper get the better of me, and I shouldn't have.”
“I—” Draco was at a loss for words, since Harry had never apologized to him before. “Well, don't let it happen again, Potter.” He finished lamely, kicking at an exposed root to cover his own urge to apologize. Apologies were for the weak, and as a Malfoy, Draco was not weak.
While angry, Harry usually acted before he thought, or reacted, especially to Draco. But when he was rational and level-headed, Harry had a knack for observing people, borne out of the long `seen but not heard' policy of the Dursleys whenever they had to reluctantly take him out in public. Now that he wasn't at Hogwarts anymore and with the Dark Lord dead, Harry's observational skills had increased (what with his `nothing to do' life as of late), and he caught a glimpse of something in Draco's eyes just before the blonde turned away and buried it again. Regret, perhaps? He felt that Draco was giving him a front, but rather than call him on it, Harry let it pass.
“Let's go to that small clearing over there and eat, shall we?” Harry pointed to an open area away from the Demiguise carcasses and the nest where the Occamy was still bound. Draco nodded and picked up his pack.
They worked together in silence, making a small campfire and setting up makeshift `chairs' (low stones that they sat on instead of the ground). Harry produced two `Meal-in-a-tins' from the wizarding branch of Tesco that had moved into Diagon Alley after the war. They ate companionably, the only sounds surrounding them being nature and spoons scraping against the tin.
Draco was just cleaning the last bit of his shepherd's pie from the bottom of his tin as he glanced up at Harry, who was staring intently into the bottom of his own tin, trying to get out a last bit of food as well. Draco froze, and Harry looked up at him as soon as the noise stopped.
“Harry, there's a Demiguise behind you,” he whispered, and Harry (who was quite tired of things sneaking up behind him) nodded, turning slowly so as not to frighten it. It was the mother Demiguise, Harry was sure of it, and the baby that Harry had saved yesterday peeked out from behind her.
Harry waited, neither boy moving a muscle, and the Demiguise held out her hand offering several large, juicy-looking pieces of fruit. Harry accepted it hesitantly, and the Demiguise pulled her lips back in a garish grin. The baby hopped up and down and then suddenly bolted out from behind the mother, around Harry, and jumped right up on the rock next to Draco!
The mother grunted but settled down as soon as she realized that Draco wasn't going to hurt her baby. If anything, Draco was more afraid of it than it was of him! The baby tugged on his sleeve until Draco put his hand out, and with several hoots of happiness, deposited a mess of weeds, large seed-pods, and mushrooms in Draco's hands.
“Potter, what's it doing?” Draco didn't take his eyes off of the baby Demiguise beside him, but he hoped that his partner would have an idea of what was happening.
“I think they're offering us food,” Harry replied. “Have you noticed that they seem to disappear if we're fighting and come back when we're not?”
“They are peaceful herbivores,” Draco said thoughtfully. “You might be right, Potter. They might only show themselves in times of peace. But how do we get the hair?” He hesitantly reached out towards the baby, pulling it back quickly when the mother grunted warningly. The baby, however, was delighted that Draco wanted to play and grabbed his hand, examining the long, pale fingers and palm excitedly. Draco squirmed as the baby's breath huffed over his hand.
“It tickles,” he admitted, his lips twisting into a smile against his will. Harry hid a chuckle at watching Draco interact with the baby. The ape-like offspring somehow made the blonde Slytherin seem more human, and Harry was keen to know why.
“Well, we can't hurt them,” Harry replied quietly.
“No. No, we can't hurt them,” Draco agreed, wiggling his fingers and making the baby grasp at them and cackle. “Look! I think it likes me!”
“I think you're right,” Harry grinned at Draco's enthusiastic reaction, and then realized that he was seeing a happy emotion from his partner, something he wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. That's what made him seem different!
The mother Demiguise tapped Harry on the shoulder and began pantomiming. Harry watched with interest as she put her hands together and moved them back and forth, imitating a snake's crawling, and then spread her hands, fingers curved up and out like wings, but with her thumbs touching. She made a look of horror and then one hand became a claw as she grabbed her other arm with it, which reminded Harry of the Occamy attacking. She hooted sadly, pointing to herself and her baby, and then made the snake motion again, but more confined, signaling that it was tied with ropes. Her lips pulled back in that disturbing grin again, and she leaned forward. Harry held his breath, and she patted him on the head!
“Hey, Malfoy,” he began, but Draco interrupted.
“Potter, a little help over here?” Harry turned and couldn't stop the chuckle that burst from his gut. He clapped his hand over his mouth so that he wouldn't offend Draco, but he couldn't help laughing behind his hand. Draco was still sitting on the rock, with the offered assortment of plants beside him, but he was bent over strangely, flinching, as the baby scrambled behind him, trying to climb up onto his back, reaching for Draco's pale blonde hair.
“Awww, what's the matter, Malfoy?” Harry teased. “I think it wants your hair.”
“I know that!” Draco said, trying to keep his head out of reach. He didn't sound angry, though. “It already grabbed my bangs and tugged, and then it started picking stuff out of my hair and eating it! I tried to stop it, but then it ran around and JUMPED on me! Potter, help me! I don't want to be mauled by a Demiguise!”
“It's just a baby,” Harry pointed out, some very unmanly noises coming from his throat as he watched Draco lose. “But what do you say, Malfoy?”
“NOW, Potter,” Draco tried to glare at his giggling partner, but the baby's thrashing about was also tickling him.
“Tsk, tsk,” Harry wished he had a camera. “The OTHER magic word.”
“It's going to be `Avada Kedavra' if you don't get your arse over here to help me,” Draco replied, squirming and laughing as the baby figured out that Draco was ticklish and abandoned its quest for his hair in favor of poking his sides and back. “Augh! Potter, now! Please!”
“Oh, wow!” Harry hadn't expected Draco to say `please' at all—he was just messing with the Slytherin—but he jumped up at once and stepped around the embers of their fire in one long stride. “Hey, baby,” he crooned, reaching out to the little one and getting its attention. “C'mere. Let's leave Dwaco alone, okay? Come to Hawwy.”
The baby sized Harry up, cocking its head at the baby-talk, and pushed off of Draco, leaping into Harry's arms. Draco gave an `oof' as the baby heaved, and Harry caught it easily. It reached up and touched Harry's glasses wonderingly, and then raised its hands to Harry's hair, where it began pulling gently as it rooted around, bringing its fingers to its lips every so often.
Harry jumped as arms reached around him to smack the baby on the head. It squealed, and Harry heard the mother's answering grunt behind him. The baby suddenly blinked invisible and then back to visibility, and unexpectedly launched itself over Harry's shoulder towards its mother.
He turned around just in time to watch the mother cradle the baby to her. She looked at both Harry and Draco, and then she turned invisible along with the little one. Harry cautiously reached out, but the space where she had been was empty. The Demiguises were gone.
“Potter, look,” he turned back to see Draco gathering up medium-length silky strands. “Hurry, they shed, and we only have a few minutes to get the hair into that bag before it turns invisible.”
Harry was about to open his mouth to ask how Draco knew that, but he saw several long strands that must have been from the mother, and he quickly picked them up, moving back to the rock where he had originally been sitting. There were quite a few hairs laying on the ground behind it, where the mother had appeared, and he grabbed them, memorizing where they were as they began to slowly fade. He looked down at his hand and saw that the other hairs he had were also fading.
Having gotten all that he could, Harry deftly opened his pack and rummaged for the magic bag Ollivander had given them. He used his teeth to pull the drawstring one-handed and dropped the hairs into it. He peeked inside and saw them shimmering.
“Hey, it works!” he exclaimed, holding the bag out to Draco, who looked like he was pinching a whole lot of nothing.
“Of course it works, Potter,” he said disdainfully, but without any real malice. He, too, looked in the bag and saw the hairs. “Good work, Potter. Ollivander will be pleased.”
“You too, Malfoy,” Harry replied, startled that Draco would compliment him. Draco closed the bag and handed it back to Harry, who put it away. “How'd you know about the hairs?”
“Lucky guess,” Draco shrugged. “It makes sense, if you think about it. We've been trying to track them, but we haven't seen any signs of them other than the creatures themselves. Everything sheds or leaves tracks, which means that the hairs turn invisible once they've left the Demiguise's body.”
“You sound like Hermione,” he said, duly impressed. “Except that she would've read it in a book, not figured it out in the actual situation.”
“Granger's always been smart,” Draco admitted. “My father was none-too-happy when I brought home the second-best marks our first year at Hogwarts.”
Harry had a sudden flashback to hiding in the cabinet at Borgin & Burkes, listening to Lucius Malfoy berate Draco for Hermione's success.
“I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin,” said Mr. Malfoy coldly, and Mr. Borgin said quickly, “No offense, sir, no offense meant—”
“Though if his grades don't pick up,” said Mr. Malfoy, more coldly still, “that may indeed be all he is fit for—”
“It's not my fault,” retorted Draco. “The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger—”
“I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam,” snapped Mr. Malfoy.
“Ha!” said Harry under his breath, pleased to see Draco looking both abashed and angry.
“I know,” Harry murmured. The glee and smug satisfaction he'd felt then faded hollowly into shame and sympathy for Draco. He was snapped out of his memories when Draco's voice turned acidic.
“How do you know, Potter?” Draco certainly didn't expect Harry to agree with him about his father, and a surge of panic shot through him. He fell back on nastiness to cover his surprise, lest Harry see him weak.
“Do you remember, right before our second year, going to Borgin & Burkes with your dad?” Harry wasn't sure how to start out telling Draco what he had seen, and from the way Draco was glaring at him, Harry wasn't sure how far he'd get before Draco tried to kill him.
“Yes,” Draco responded shortly. He remembered. He especially remembered the night before, when he had been shirtless and trembling, kneeling in front of his father's desk, gripping the edges tightly and trying not to cry out as his father whipped him for `failing to beat the Mudblood'. He also remembered after, when he had cleaned himself up and laid in his bed, crying, and his father had suddenly appeared in the doorway and told Draco that he would buy him the racing broom he had been wanting.
Draco had been naïve enough then to be grateful; now he knew that all of the presents and gifts were bribery meant to keep Draco silenced about the abuse he had suffered at home. Lucius had a temper, but he didn't lash out at Draco often. When he did, though, it was bad. Lucius would never make a scene in public, however, and Draco had known that he could get away with more when others were around.
“Do you remember that cabinet you were about to open when your dad called you away?” Harry licked his lips nervously.
“Get to the point, Potter,” Draco snarled, uneasy with how open his memories felt.
“Well, I was hiding in that cabinet,” Harry admitted. Draco's mouth dropped. “I had accidentally Flooed into Knockturn Alley instead of Diagon Alley. I was with the Weasleys—” Harry stopped rambling as Draco's face began to turn an unhealthy shade of purple as he spluttered.
“You—you—you—” Draco was gobsmacked, and he couldn't put a sentence together. He kicked viciously at his forgotten and empty tin, and Harry ducked, knowing that Draco would probably be angry at being spied on, but he hadn't anticipated HOW angry.
“Malfoy, I'm sorry,” Harry tried, but it was drowned out by Draco gnashing his teeth and letting out an enraged scream. “Look, it was, what, six years ago. I'm sorry! What's the big deal?”
Draco suddenly got hold of himself and concentrated on controlling his breathing and not hyperventilating. He reminded himself that Harry didn't know, that he was overreacting to a very small revelation, and that it wasn't a big deal. His father was getting what he deserved; even if he wasn't in Azkaban for beating Draco, he was still suffering. No one knew.
“Nothing, Potter,” Draco took a deep breath but refused to look Harry in the face. “I'm fine. You're right; it was six years ago, and it can't be changed.”
Harry screwed up his face at the defeated tone in Draco's voice that carried a dark undertone. It felt as though Draco were talking about something else, but he didn't have any idea what.
“Malfoy,” he began carefully. “I know we didn't get on at Hogwarts, but we're working together now. The past can't be changed, but I'm…I'm a good listener if you wanted to talk about anything, okay?”
Draco blinked at Harry. It almost sounded like the git KNEW that Draco had things he wanted to talk about, and it almost sounded like Harry was offering to be his friend.
“I don't have anything I want to talk about, Potter,” Draco lied. “And even if I did—which I DON'T—what makes you think that I'd talk to YOU about it, Saint Potter?”
“I might understand better than you think,” Harry replied mysteriously, refusing to give in to the rise of anger he felt at Draco's petty name-calling. He was beginning to see a pattern that he had completely missed at Hogwarts; Draco deliberately provoked him by throwing his fame back into his face whenever he wanted to cover for something. It definitely merited more exploration.
“Well, I don't want to talk,” Draco spat nastily. “We got what we came for. Let's just go.”
“What about the Occamy?” Harry sighed, once again allowing Draco to change the subject.
“What about it?”
“Are we just going to leave it tied up?”
“Why not? It'll get out of the ropes eventually,” Draco shrugged. Harry squinted at him.
“You are fine with just leaving it, helpless and defenseless, when we could do something about it?” Harry phrased his question very specifically, keen on hearing Draco's answer.
“You have too much of a hero complex,” Draco narrowed his eyes, wondering what Potter was playing at. He, too, responded with deliberately chosen words. “It's not completely helpless and defenseless. It tried to kill us, remember? Besides, it's not like we'd be doing it any favors. The situation never changes.”
Now Harry knew they weren't talking about the Occamy, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Draco might have a secret much like his own. It was astonishing to him, however, that Draco had reacted so differently, so coldly to a similar situation, while he, Harry, had come away from the Dursleys eager to help anyone who needed it and who looked for ways to change the situation.
“I think you and I might be more alike than just our preferences for coffee,” Harry said. “But I can't just leave it there. Get the Portkey out and have it ready. It'll probably want to chase me once I let it go.”
“And that doesn't make you think that you SHOULDN'T let it go, Potter?” Draco stared at him incredulously.
“If someone or something is in trouble, Malfoy, I want to help, even if it means it turns on me,” Harry returned Draco's gaze full force, and the Slytherin flinched, blinking first.
“Are you going to tell it to kill me again?” Draco snarked.
“I did not tell it to kill you,” Harry retorted, flushing when he remembered what he DID say about Draco, and he hoped that his assumption about the blonde `having his back' wasn't erroneous. “Is that what it sounded like?”
“You could have been inviting it for tea and crumpets and it still would've sounded like death,” Draco informed him. “You can't hear that?”
“Well, I've only heard Parseltongue once before that wasn't associated with Voldemort,” Harry said, thinking of Ron's one strangled, hissing word. Every time Voldemort spoke Parseltongue, it WAS associated with death.
“It sounds creepy,” Draco winced at the name, long borne of habit. “But it doesn't sound QUITE as menacing coming from you as it did Him.”
“Good to know,” Harry responded cautiously, wondering if perhaps Draco had been a girl in a former life, since his moods flipped faster than even Ginny's had. “But it didn't seem to understand me, so no, I won't speak Parseltongue again. If you could be ready with the Portkey, though, that would be helpful.”
“Oh, sod it,” Draco sighed, picking up his pack. “I'll just come with you. No sense in you running all over the countryside with a pissed-off Occamy on your tail. Knowing you, you'd probably run the other way and then I'd be stuck looking for your dead arse. Like I said, Potter, can't have you dying on my watch.” Draco's lips twisted into a wry, humorless smirk. “Unless I kill you myself, of course.”
“Of course,” Harry echoed, rolling his eyes.
They made their way back to the Occamy nest, where the giant snake was still struggling. It had broken several of the ropes already, but not enough to free itself. Draco found the Portkey and held it gingerly by its edges so that it wouldn't activate. He held it out and Harry hovered his left hand over it.
“Okay, so I'm going to end the spell and then we touch the Portkey, yeah?” Harry clarified.
“See, Potter, and you said you didn't have a plan,” Draco nudged him playfully. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Let's just do it.”
The image of cuddling with Harry flashed through Draco's mind as he said it, but Harry waved his wand and the ropes vanished. The Occamy struggled to its feet and charged them, but the boys grabbed the disc and were Portkeyed out of there before it reached them.
They landed back at Ollivander's, startling the old wandmaker and his daughter, who had shown up for the day to assist him, since his new assistants were out gathering ingredients. There was a small black girl who could barely see over the counter staring at them with wide eyes, and the adults with her grabbed her from behind reflexively as Harry and Draco appeared in the middle of the shop.
Draco wasn't quite fast enough to prevent Harry from falling upon landing (but he'd get better at that). He blushed at the intimate thought of Harry, who was currently disentangling himself from his pack and getting to his feet while trying to smile politely at the little girl, who had begun screeching, `Harry Potter! It's Harry Potter! Uncle Lee, look!'
“Yes, yes, it's Harry Potter,” Ollivander croaked. “Mr. and Mrs. Jordan were just bringing little Giselle in to find a wand.”
“Jordan? Lee Jordan?” Harry stopped and looked up at the father's face. “You got married? You have a kid?”
“Heya, Harry,” Lee's face was grinning from ear to ear. His hair was still in dreadlocks. “Nah, she's my niece. But my sister had to work, so the wife and I volunteered to get her outfitted for Hogwarts. Pretty good times we had, eh? So how've you been keeping?”
“I'm good,” Harry tried to recall hearing about Lee's marriage. “I hadn't heard you were engaged.”
“Private affair,” Lee's face turned somber. “Just us and the families. George Weasley stood up with me.” Harry looked down momentarily, reminded of Fred's death and how Fred, George, and Lee used to be the best of friends.
“Congratulations, Lee,” Harry said, his face pinched as a nod of understanding and remembered sorrow passed between them. “Don't let us keep you from shopping, of course. We were just returning from our mission.”
“The great Harry Potter still goes on missions?” Lee raised his eyebrow as he looked over to Harry's partner, who had remained quiet through the entire exchange. “Malfoy.”
“Hello,” Draco responded quietly, never having been introduced to the black man who looked a couple of years older than Harry and him. Draco noted Harry's lack of temper at Lee calling him `the great Harry Potter'.
“Easy, Lee,” Harry warned with a quick glance at Draco. “Yeah, we're working together now. For Mr. Ollivander, in fact.”
“They are fetching my ingredients,” Ollivander broke in, drawing the attention of the family back to the task at hand. “And they can take it to the back while I finish helping you.”
Taking their cue, Harry and Draco disappeared behind the counter, but not before Lee shook Harry's hand again.
“Friend of yours, I take it?” Draco inclined his chin towards the front room.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Fellow Gryffindor. He commentated for Quidditch.”
“That's where I knew his voice from!” Draco snapped his fingers in recognition. “What does he have to do with the Weasleys?”
“He and Fred and George were best buddies,” Harry explained. “Fred was killed in the Final Battle.”
“Yeah, I heard that,” Draco said. “My condolences.”
“Thanks,” Harry looked at Draco curiously, but the blonde had already begun to unpack the magical bag. Ollivander came hobbling in just then.
“Nice family, they are,” he croaked. “Now, did you get it?” Draco held out the bag, and Ollivander cheered as he looked into it. “Perfect! Just perfect! I knew I didn't go wrong hiring you two! You ended up with more than I expected.”
“The Demiguises were friendly,” Harry supplied, exchanging a small smile with Draco at the memory of the baby.
“I forgot to tell you before you left,” Ollivander said. “But I don't want to hear of you hurting a creature to get the ingredient if you can help it.” As he spoke, his gaze slid to Draco as if he were silently accusing the Slytherin of harming small, furry creatures for sport.
“Of course not!” Harry jumped in. “We're not monsters!”
“You don't have to worry, sir,” Draco said, his face hardening at the implied insult. “I will try my very best to restrain my homicidal urges.”
“Shut up, Malfoy; you don't have homicidal urges,” Harry snapped, angry that Draco didn't defend himself. “You're not a killer.” Draco's eyes darkened at the reminder. “Ollivander, that was uncalled for.”
“Mister Potter, I'm sure I don't know WHAT you're talking about,” Ollivander shot back. “But you both did very well for today. Take the rest off, and I'll see you back here bright and early for your next task. Now out with you!”
As they were shooed out of the wandmaker's shop, Harry was sure that Ollivander had been a Slytherin from the way he dodged Harry's accusations. He found himself facing Draco in the middle of the street, both unsure of how to say goodbye after being together for a day and night.
“Um, Malfoy,” Harry began. “You wouldn't want to grab a drink, would you?”
Draco just realized that they had been turned out of the shop so fast that they hadn't had a chance to ask what their next assignment would be. Then he surprised himself by answering yes to Harry's invitation!
TBC!!!
Chapter notes:
1. “{Hey! Don't look at my partner! He has my back, not yours!}” {} indicates Parseltongue, by the way. This quote is from Law & Order: Criminal Intent. (I'm sorry, I know I've been putting quotes into my stories, and I really tried hard not to! But it just fit! I thought, anyway...)
2. The italicized paragraphs were from Book 2, CoS, page 52.
3. I took some liberties with Demiguises and Occamy...like the fact that the Demiguises were playful and only came out when the boys weren't fighting (since the HP Lexicon said that they were peaceful creatures.)
4. I also took liberties with "wizarding Tesco" and 'Meal-in-a-Tin'...to my knowledge, there is no such thing.
5. I also took a LOT of liberty with Lee Jordan. I made that up. I also tried to make it as DH-compliant as possible, but if people don't want Fred to be dead, then just tell me and I'll rewrite the chapter so that Fred's not dead.
Author's note--SO MANY apologies again for the delay!!! I will be sending this chapter to our betas, and if they have any changes, I'll post the updated chapter as soon as they give me the changes. We really appreciate everyone who has read, reviewed, and stuck with us!!!
This chapter was formerly titled Draco and the Baby Demiguise. I couldn't get the image of Draco and the baby Demiguise out of my head, so I used a phrase from their interaction! SOO CUTE Do you like the first one or the current chapter title better?
Much love,
Graballz