Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Snake in the Dungeon ( Chapter 14 )

Part 14

Dreams of quidditch drowned out any dreams of his ancestors so that when Draco woke up in the wee hours of the next morning, for once he did not need to drag himself out of bed. Eager to fly again, he quickly showered, dressed and grabbed his broom, carefully creeping past the sleeping Slytherins and out of the common room. He felt a little nervous walking through the dungeons alone, but nothing happened on his way out.

So bright that the stars seemed dim, the moon showed him the way to the quidditch pitch, the night air crisp and cold. He noticed the dew frozen on the ground and wondered when the snow would fall again. Lasting effects remained from Voldemort's unnatural blizzard, from the early blight of herb gardens to several magical creatures being tricked into early hibernation, but the sky itself seemed loathe to bring back a normal snowfall. A memory of lying in warm snow struck him and he shivered and hoped it never snowed again.

Months had passed since he flew to Hogwarts and he looked down at the besom in his hands. No longer the dry, dead branch it had once seemed, the wood was darker with small leaves along the length and the twigs at the end showed several new buds.

"You better not sprout flowers," he mumbled, then kicked up into the air.

Endless snow. Ice in his hair. One hand clutching the broom, the other hand clenched in agony--

He gasped and closed his eyes, pushing the flashback out of his head, but the rough bark and the wind blowing over him lingered like a tangible memory. He brought his right hand up to his face just to make sure it was in one piece.

"Don't think about it," he whispered to himself. "It's not real."

But his pounding heart and sudden cold chill told him that even if he knew this was just a flashback, his body thought it was real. He sighed and leaned back on his broom. He'd never had a flashback about flying through the snow, but something brought those memories back in a rush, probably the wide space of the quidditch pitch and the lack of other people. At least he hoped the lack of people was part of it. If he couldn't fly when it came time to play, he'd be useless as a seeker.

"Malfoy!"

Draco blinked and looked down. Harry stood beneath him, straddling his own broom for a moment before coming up to fly at his side.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked. "You've been sitting still for awhile."

"I'm fine," Draco said slowly. "Just...a little tired."

"Oh." Harry leaned closer, trying to see his face under his hood. "You won't fall off, will you?"

"No, I'm fine." Draco sighed and looked up at him, feeling as if he'd just relived flying alone through the night. "How do you keep finding me? Did you follow me again?"

"Not really," Harry said. "Just used a family heirloom of my own. Almost no one knows about it."

Which meant he wasn't going to tell him. Draco turned his head. He knew that he shouldn't feel snubbed, that he kept his own secrets, but he still wanted a little more trust from him. A golden sparkle near Harry's hand caught his eye and he looked down at the snitch flapping its wings furiously between his fingers.

"You stole the snitch?" he asked with wide eyes.

Harry couldn't help laughing. "No, Hooch would kill me if I did that. I bought one when I was in Diagon Alley but I haven't had a chance to use it yet. Fancy a game?"

"First to catch the snitch wins?" Draco tried to smother his smirk but he couldn't. "How about we make things interesting with a wager?"

"I don't know that I want to lose a bet to you," Harry said, eyeing that smirk. "You only get that look when you're about to do something bad. No cheating, you hear me?"

"Of course," Draco said with his most innocent smile. "Winner does whatever the loser wants?"

"You've got to be kidding--"

"Is perfect Potter afraid I'll win?" Draco laughed and flew a slow circle around Harry. "I promise it won't be too humiliating."

"You remember that when I win," Harry said. "Ready?"

Still smiling broadly, Draco nodded. As he watched Harry raise his hand, he discovered that sometime between Harry's arrival and his laughter, he'd stopped feeling scared. The cramp in his hand disappeared along with the cold fist in his stomach. Even simply breathing came easier. Then the snitch flew out of Harry's hand and streaked across the pitch with two seekers right behind it.

At the first tight turn over the stands, only his panicked grip kept Draco from flying off his broom. Unprepared in his previous flight for fast turns, he'd never thought of what it meant to fly without charms to keep him safely seated. The danger didn't slow him down, though. He raced to catch up with Harry as the snitch flew straight and in the precious seconds before it turned again, he settled his entire body along the length of his broom, wrapping his left arm around the shaft while crossing his legs beneath it. He had to pull the broom a little higher so that the twigs settled on his calves, and he figured he looked ridiculous, but he felt the difference immediately with the next sharp turn into the air. Not only did he not fall off, but the besom responded to his slightest movements, managing turns so tight that he didn't think he could have done them on a newer model.

So this is how it's meant to be ridden, he thought. His legs clenched firmly around the branch and his hand easily steered, leaving one hand free for the snitch. He trailed at Harry's side, pulling even with him as the snitch turned and zoomed back down to the ground. Like eagles, the two wizards fell so close that they seemed to be touching. They spared a glance at each other, eyes wild with excitement and promising the other that they would win.

The snitch took them across the field, over the stands, under the stands and between the goal posts, but at last it dove to the left, flying closer to Harry who grasped it in his fingertips, just inches from Draco's outstretched hand.

"Not fair!" Draco complained. "Damn thing wanted you to win--"

"Draco!"

He stopped talking as he suddenly noticed that he couldn't stop the broom. Harry came to rest near the middle of the pitch but Draco was going so fast that his besom, which did not have modern braking charms, kept going towards the stands. With a shriek, he pulled the broom up and instinctually tried to fly the other direction, any direction, as long as it kept him from crashing. The broom gave a jolt and stopped so fast he nearly slid off.

Righting the broom and hovering just a few feet from the stands, he took a moment to breathe and let his heart slow down. Harry flew over to his side, leaning close and trying to see his face.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I thought you were going to crash through to the other side."

"So did I," Draco said shakily. "Damn thing handles different than I'm used to."

"Blaming the broom for losing?" Harry asked, a smile creeping onto his face as he held up the snitch.

"Yes, and your biased snitch and your Firebolt and all your practice time this year." Draco frowned as Harry's smile broadened. "Nothing humiliating," he snapped.

"Of course not," Harry said, his smile a match for Draco's earlier grin.

"And nothing public," Draco said.

"Absolutely," Harry said.

Draco's irritation turned to worry as he started to think that Harry might have already thought of his penalty. "And nothing dangerous."

"I wouldn't make you do anything dangerous," Harry said, a little hurt Draco had thought of that.

"And nothing physically demanding," Draco said. "It might give me calluses."

"It won't," Harry promised. "Relax, I'm not you. What were you thinking of making me do?"

"I'm not going to tell you 'till afterwards," Draco said. "Don't think I'm going to give you any ideas."

"Malfoy, you are such a--a--" Harry stammered as he put the snitch back into his robes and felt around in his pockets. He even turned them inside out, swearing softly when they were empty.

Draco turned his besom to face Harry. "Did you lose something?"

"One of my--" He broke off and stared at Draco for a second, clearly considering something. "One of my antidotes," he said at last. "I must have dropped it."

"Well, that's why you're not supposed to carry anything during quidditch," Draco said.

"Oh, you're as bad as Hermione sometimes." Harry ignored Draco's snort and looked over his shoulder at the pitch. "We were all over the place, it could be anywhere."

"When do you have to take it again?" Draco asked.

"I don't know. I just take it when I feel an attack coming on. Could be tomorrow, could be right now."

"Then we'd better look for it." Draco wheeled his broom around and flew low to the ground, holding his wand up like a searchlight.

Harry drew beside him and took out his own wand. In slow loops they circled over the grass, covering the entire pitch. When they reached the distant goal posts and Draco started to fear they'd have to search under the stands, Harry gave a soft "oh" of recognition and stopped. Draco came near and spotted the glass vial in splinters. Not a drop was left.

"Oh no..." Harry mumbled. "Here, help me pick these up."

"Why?" Draco asked. "Just ask whoever's giving them to you for another one."

"It's not that simple," Harry said. He sighed and sat up, his shoulders hunched over. "They won't let me have another one if I can't show them that it broke."

The wind whistled through the stands and blew Harry's hair around his eyes. For a moment, he wouldn't look at Draco, just shuffle the glass in his hands as if he could put the vial back together and refill it.

"It's not medicine," Draco whispered. "You're addicted to something."

Harry nodded once. "Felix felicis. I didn't mean for it to happen but I had to drink the whole bottle or else Greyback would've gotten his hands on it."

"A whole bottle of--wait, Greyback? As in Fenrir Greyback?" Draco's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure it was him? Werewolves look alike when they're transformed and I know he was there when the manor burned--"

"I'm dead sure," Harry said with a bitter laugh. "You weren't here when it happened. No one knows about it except the ones in the Order. I mean...um..." He bit his lip trying to think up a way to explain that slip.

"Order?" Draco asked.

"It...I'm sorry, I can't tell you about it," Harry stammered, speaking faster as Draco frowned. "I know you've given up almost everything to join us, but only Order members know about it. Not even the rest of society knows about us."

Draco turned to hide his pout. After being saved by Potter and even revealing his family's greatest secret, being refused Harry's confidence now stung worse than when Harry had refused to trust him in the kitchens months ago. He shrugged once. "What were you saying about Fenrir Greyback?"

Wincing himself at how unfair it seemed, Harry continued anyway. "We'd found out that one of Voldemort's hor--that something of his that we needed was at a shop in Diagon Alley, but when we went to get it, Greyback was there first and several other Death Eaters were with him. During the fight, he found out I had a bottle of felix felicis. There was no way to keep him from getting it except by drinking it all."

"A whole bottle?" Draco winced.

"Well, at least I defeated everyone."

"With that much potion in you, they didn't stand a chance," Draco said dryly. "When did you start feeling the side effects?"

"It took a week for the potion's luck to wear off," Harry said. "And I couldn't play our quidditch match that week. And then I started getting sick and craving it. Slughorn makes the antidote and Pomfrey gives it to me, but since it's got some of the felix felicis ingredients in it, it's more like it's weaning me off it."

"How often do you have to take it?"

"At first it was every day. I'd feel weak and shaky, and if I didn't take the antidote quickly, I'd collapse. Well, you saw it that day after the dragon attack."

Draco nodded once.

"But it's gotten better. I don't have to take it very often now, and I've been taking less and less." He sighed and looked down at the broken glass in his hands. "But Slughorn won't believe that it just broke. I was really bad about trying to get it before, and..." His voice trailed off. The shards in his hand glimmered in the moonlight.

"What about Severus?" Before he finished asking, Draco realized that his master wouldn't help Harry if he didn't have to. Even if Dumbledore somehow convinced him, Harry would probably never trust anything made by Snape. Without a word, Draco reached into the glass and pulled out the largest shard, a narrow sliver as long as his finger. A white film colored one side, and he brought it up to his mouth.

"Wait!" Harry cried, putting one hand out to stop him. "You don't know what's in it!"

"Exactly," Draco said and flew a little out of Harry's reach as he licked the faint residue, careful not to cut himself. For a moment he silently floated in the air, touching his tongue to his palate, considering the taste. To his surprise, the moment it hit his stomach, it made him want to throw up. Worse than just breathing it, swallowing it made him immediately recognize one of the ingredients. Despite the powerful bitterness, dry texture and stinging aftertaste that made him cough, he forced a smile.

"I know this. Common thyme with a touch of rowan. Probably cobwebs, too, though I can't be sure." He coughed again and took a deep breath, tossing the glass over his shoulder. "It's the rowan you were craving. It's one of the main ingredients in felix felicis."

"You could tell that in one taste?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Of course. I'm Snape's apprentice. If I couldn't tell the basic ingredients, he'd drill them into me again." Draco didn't mention that Snape would have scolded him brutally for tasting an unknown potion. What the master didn't know wouldn't hurt the apprentice, Draco figured, and the tiny amount of rowan wouldn't hurt him either. "We can probably make this in Severus' office. Let's go."

"Hold on," Harry said with a shake of his head. "I'll believe that you could figure out the ingredients, but I can't believe you'd know how to mix everything."

"If Slughorn can do it, then I can, too. Besides, I'm sure the recipe is in my grimoire." Draco's smile faded when he saw how reluctant Harry was to trust him. "Look...even if I get it wrong, and I won't, I promise it won't hurt you. None of the ingredients are poisonous."

"Then why do you look sick?" Harry asked, tilting his head. "You barely tasted it and you look like you're going to fall off your broom."

Draco didn't say anything at first, annoyed at Harry's lack of confidence and constant questions. He angled his broom down and landed, certain that Harry would follow him towards the castle. Sure enough, Harry quickly caught up and walked alongside him.

"Malfoy?"

"Rowan makes my kind sick," Draco said softly. "For some reason it reacts to dark magic."

"That's why you were coughing when you breathed it last time?"

Draco nodded. "Just touching it stings. Swallowing it is like...well, like swallowing one of Snape's potions is to you."

They fell silent as they entered the castle, and an apprehensive sense of deja vu washed over him as they made their way into the corridors that led into the dungeons. The distant echoes of his footsteps and the tangible silence used to comfort him. Now he couldn't help but look over his shoulder as they walked.

"Don't worry," Harry said. "No one's going to attack you."

"That's what I thought last time."

Despite his worry, they only spotted Filch making his rounds with his cat at his heels. When Mrs. Norris meowed in their direction, the caretaker raised his lantern and looked down the corridor, narrowing his eyes at the boys. Once he recognized them, though, he just scowled and turned the corner out of sight. Draco frowned in return, feeling snubbed by someone he thought should be grateful just to be noticed.

"Rotten squib," Draco muttered.

At hearing Draco's soft words, Harry sighed. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Call people names just because of the way they were born," Harry said. "It's really mean."

"Why shouldn't I?" Draco said. "They never minded calling me names."

"Just because they're cruel doesn't mean you have to be." Harry gave him a look. "You're not stupid. You must know how ridiculous it is to call people those horrible slurs when you've seen them cast the same spells you do."

"I've already told you about the effect of mixing with muggles--"

"Yes, that more squibs are being born, you've had to crossbreed yourselves," Harry said with a touch of exasperation. "But the children had nothing to do with that. A muggleborn is no different than a pureblood. Why do you keep acting like you're so much better than everyone else?"

"Because we just are!" Draco snapped, turning to face him. After all this time, did he really have to spell it out for him? He cursed inwardly. Harry could be so clueless sometimes. "We're the only ones who remember our history. They're all too busy thinking about making the next Ministry law and how to hide from the muggle vermin."

"Malfoy..." Harry said warningly.

"We're sick of muggle sympathizers trying to keep the worthless mongrels safe from their own stupidity--"

"--Malfoy--"

"--and the blood traitors, they're destroying us even more with their worthless mudblood nits."

A second later, Draco gasped as Harry shoved him back against a wall and held him there, hands painfully tight on his shoulders. He tried to wriggle out of his hold but Harry held him as tight as a snitch, pressing him hard against the stone wall.

"I warned you," Harry said, "what I'd do if I ever heard you say that word again."

Eyes wide, Draco swallowed reflexively, unable to look away. He wondered if his amulet had stopped working and then thought maybe he'd angered Harry past the amulet's weak limits. As Harry loosened his grip as if to pull back a fist, Draco closed his eyes and turned his head.

The blow never came. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again and saw Harry leaning close with his fist on the wall beside his head, his own head bowed, taking deep breaths. Once he started breathing normally again, he looked up, and Draco could see the dark lines around his eyes clearly, see the weariness in his eyes.

"Why are you like this?" Harry whispered, his face only inches away. "It's ugly. This stupid hate you have...you shouldn't be ugly, Malfoy. You shouldn't hate the whole world."

Still afraid to move, Draco couldn't help a bitter laugh. "Then change the world."

To his surprise, Harry almost smiled.

"I think I will." Releasing Draco suddenly, Harry turned and walked away, leaving him without another word, although he did turn around and glance at him once before walking out of the dungeons.

Draco watched him disappear from sight, then breathed out and relaxed. "Stupid Potter," he mumbled. After a quick look around to make sure no one else was in the halls, he put his hand over his chest to make sure Harry's manhandling hadn't twisted the cord holding his amulet in place, and on a whim he drew the amulet out of his shirt and looked at it. The firelight reflected on the glass and colored the honey inside amber. Now he was sure it was working properly. After all, Harry hadn't hit him, and he had one of the most explosive tempers Draco had ever experienced.

"Worth your weight in gold," he whispered and tucked the amulet safely away again. He looked back down the hall and smiled. Harry's temper frightened him, but perhaps with a little more effort he could wrap his lion around his little finger. Severus kept thyme, cobwebs and rowan in his storeroom, and Draco felt he had enough time before his master came with Dumbledore's list of poisons to brew. Humming like his mother did when one of her schemes went perfectly, he hurried through the dungeons, first to gather his grimoire and then to edge his way back into Harry's good graces.

A little while later as the sun peeked into the office, with his eyes watering from the powerful fumes, Draco wished Harry had hit him. At least then maybe he'd be in bed with another healing draught instead of coughing up red smoke. As he finished bottling the potion and slipped it into a pocket, the door slammed open and he heard his master's angry voice. He winced and thought he should have realized the smoke would pour out from under the door.

"What are you doing in here?" Snape demanded, dispersing the red haze with his wand. "Was that rowan?"

"Yes..." Draco mumbled, looking at the floor as he smothered his coughing. There was no use lying to a potions master.

"I'm surprised you're still breathing," Snape said, crossing to his cabinet and pulling out a jar of mistletoe. He dropped several white berries in a cauldron and ignited a strong flame underneath, and as the berries began smoking, he grabbed the back of Draco's neck and forced him to bend over the cauldron, inhaling the smoke.

"Stupid child," Severus scolded him. "Pomfrey's threat wasn't enough, you had to go digging around for poison? What the hell were you making anyway?" Not giving Draco time to answer, he grabbed the grimoire and dragged it close, scanning the different recipes on the open pages. Slowly his hand became gentler and his anger faded.

"Rowan's Heaven?" he murmured, immediately recognizing it. He glanced over the ingredients spread on the table just to be sure. The only thing missing was the cobwebs, but then he imagined those were in the corners of the office where his apprentice, who often had to clean, knew where to find them. "And why would you need to make this particular potion?"

"Harry's bottle of it broke," Draco said, not mentioning that it happened while they snuck out from the castle again. "He said no one would believe him."

"And you blithely offered to make it?" Snape asked. "Knowing that no one trusted that little addict for good reason--"

"He doesn't know I made it!" Draco snapped, then coughed again as the mistletoe, a poison in its own right, scrubbed out the last of the rowan smoke and started to overwhelm him. He shook his head and broke free of Severus' grip, standing away from the potion and breathing deep. "I mean...yes, I offered, but I saw him find it in pieces. And then he...we had an argument and he walked off. He doesn't know I'm doing it."

Snape stared at him for several seconds, his eyes boring into Draco's. Finally Draco lowered his head.

"I'll get rid of it if you want," he said softly, loyalty to his master winning out.

"No." Severus closed the book and dispelled the mistletoe, putting away the cauldron as he spoke. "Give it to him. And let him know that you will be making his antidote from now on."

Draco looked up, his eyes wide. "Me? I thought Slughorn--"

"Slughorn is indeed making them, but I doubt Potter enjoys being dependent on him. And I would much rather have him indebted to your goodwill than Slughorn's manipulation." He sighed as he drew a long list of new potions for Dumbledore and set it on the table. "There was a meeting this morning. The professors have agreed to shuffle the students around so that the Slytherins are either in their own classes or paired with Gryffindor."

"What about--?" Draco started.

"Because the children were traveling eldest with youngest," Snape said over him, "we'll also be keeping the older students with the youngest in class, so you'll be forced to have study groups after hours."

Draco nodded once in relief. He didn't think Pansy would be willing to let the youngest wander alone, especially after he told her about the attempts on his life. "When do we start classes again?"

"Tomorrow, but classes have been cancelled for today while the students are shuffled. I suggest you explain everything to the children before breakfast, or else they'll only hear rumors from the other students."

"Wonderful," Draco muttered, then motioned at Dumbledore's list. "Are we going to start on that today?"

"Tomorrow. I have to prepare the dragon parts before we can use them. You might as well go wake the children up now. I'm sure explaining why you decided to keep them here will take up the time from now until breakfast."

"And that's if Pansy doesn't interrupt me every five seconds to call me an idiot." He left the office and dragged his feet to the common room, ignoring Mrs. Norris' meow and Filch's accusing yell before Filch realized it was just Draco again. Mumbling "snake's den" to the door, he went inside and sat down on the steps with a sigh.

"Good morning," Blaise said, looking up from the couch with an open book in his lap. "You're up early."

"Mm. Morning. Pansy make you stand watch?"

"Nope, volunteered myself. Well, Vincent and Gregory suggested it strongly, but it's not like I was intimidated or anything." He smiled and snapped his book shut. "Three months of being her strong-arms and they've let it go to their heads."

"I'll have a word with them," Draco said. "Actually, I need to have a word with everyone."

"Right now?" Blaise asked.

"Before breakfast. I need to brief everyone and give out marching orders."

Blaise regarded him quietly for a moment. "Something happened while we were gone, didn't it?"

Draco met his gaze. "How'd you guess?"

"You didn't argue when Pansy made these couches into a little wall, even though you'd obviously set one up as your bed," Blaise said. "You're not surprised that I'm standing watch. And since when do you think about things like marching orders and briefs? Oh, well, briefs maybe..." he said with a smirk.

"Tch." Draco smiled but he didn't grace that comment with a response. "I think about it ever since I had a crash course in politics last year. Go wake up Pansy and Theo. I'll get Vincent and Goyle."

"You telling everyone or just us?"

"All of you, but I want you lot to hear first. I don't want any of the children panicking and bolting for the door."

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Are things that bad?"

Hesitating, Draco considered. "A few nights ago, they were. But now...maybe not."

Obviously suspicious but willing to play along for the moment, Blaise got up and leaned over the next couch, waking Pansy. As Draco got up and waked past them, he noticed Theo sleeping next to her on the cramped couch. Draco felt a little sting in his heart as he headed towards Crabbe and Goyle, picking his way over sleeping children. He knew some things would change, but seeing his best friend lying practically on top of Theo clinched it.

Once he had his small group awake, he sat down on the steps again and let them gather around him. No one complained about sitting below him since they couldn't sit anywhere else and none of them wanted to leave the common room.

"All right, Draco," Theo said. "What have we missed since we've been gone?"

"Couldn't of been more interesting than Death Eaters searching for you every night," Vincent said.

"Well, I don't think you missed the blizzard," he said, and they all chuckled. "But you missed sabotage, two dragons galloping through the school, and a blood thirsty mob that nearly killed me and Potter."

The children's soft snores and the rippling undercurrents against the lake window seemed surprisingly loud to Draco as everyone around him froze. At first Vincent and Greg tilted their heads, wondering if this was one of his dry jokes, but as Draco remained silent and let it sink in, Blaise whistled lowly and Theo swore under his breath.

"What?" Pansy gasped. As the initial shock wore off, her eyes narrowed and she practically growled. "You let us stay here when we're in danger--?"

"You think we'd be here if I thought we'd be safer somewhere else?" he said. "The way things have gone, we stand a far better chance of survival here than out there, or do you think you can keep all these children out of the dark lord's hands until the war ends?"

Keeping her mouth shut but still giving him a murderous glare, she crossed her arms and waited for an explanation. Trying not to stumble over his words, he started with his service with Severus in providing poison to Dumbledore's forces, explained Voldemort's attempts to kill him with both a blizzard and a pair of dragons, mentioned the saboteur's efforts against him and Harry, described the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff's attempt on his life and ended with what Severus had told him earlier about their classes.

"And you expect us to go classes with them?" Theo asked. "What for? To give them a chance at us?"

"They don't know that you're dark," Draco said. "Besides, you're all protected under the laws of sanctuary. After what I did to the others, I doubt anyone will try anything."

While none of them looked happy with that explanation, none of them argued it. Blaise furrowed his brow and looked up at him. "You're really telling us Potter fought beside you?"

"Knowing Draco," Theo muttered, "more like he used stupid Potter as a shield."

"He stood beside me like no one else ever has," Draco snapped. "Like none of them ever stood beside one of us. And you'll probably be seeing more of him around, so keep any bloody comments to yourself."

Almost all of them straightened in surprise at the sudden edge to his voice, but Pansy continued to thoughtfully consider everything Draco had told them.

"They don't know that we're dark?" she repeated. "Draco, what aren't you telling us?"

Trying not to show his own anxiety, he took a deep breath and stared at her. "They know about me, Pansy. The night you arrived, I let Dumbledore tell the entire school that I'm dark."

Even Crabbe and Goyle knew that was bad, exchanging a horrified look. Pansy's eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. "Good God..."

"Are you insane?" Theo demanded in a harsh whisper, then looked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't woken anyone up. "It's suicide! That's like walking into a dragon's den and saying 'here I am, eat me'."

"You weren't there," Draco said. "I honestly believe I'm safer here than taking my chances out there."

"You've already been attacked once!" Pansy hissed. "Do you honestly believe I'd let the children stay here?"

"He might have a point," Blaise said softly, interrupting before the argument could turn violent. "After all, moving through the countryside was getting harder and harder. You know we would've been caught eventually, Pansy."

She frowned at him but didn't argue.

"And they only know about Draco," Blaise continued. "We don't have to let them know who's dark and who isn't. Draco will be taking the brunt of their hostility anyway. Besides, he's already got Gryffindor on our side."

"I also made a deal with Dumbledore," Draco said. "If anything happens, we'll hole up down here for the entirety of the war. If you have a better idea, I'm willing to hear it." He looked around at them, almost daring them to say something. "Otherwise, it's time for breakfast. We're expected in the great hall."

Pansy leaned forward and put her hand on his arm. "Wait," she started. "Right now?"

"Of course right now." Draco sighed and looked at her. He understood her panic. If their position had been reversed, he would have refused to go upstairs. He smiled. "Pansy, you know there's no such thing as a brave Malfoy. If I feel safe here, it must be a suitable warren for the children."

A little laugh escaped from her before she could stop it. With a faint smile, she still gave him a look. "You're an absolute disgrace to dark wizards," she said softly, reaching up and pushing his hair out of his eyes. "But you're our disgrace. Can't imagine what your father's going to say about all this, though. With you revealing your family, the Malfoys won't be a political power anymore."

Mention of his father's name made Draco's face cloud over, and he glanced away. "That's if he's still alive."

"You haven't heard from him yet?" she asked. "What about--"

"You and the Slytherins are the first dark wizards I've heard from since this all started. I haven't had an owl from anyone but you." At her stricken look, he forced all the doubt from his face. He couldn't afford to let anyone think he was as worried as they were. "We all know we could lose our families at any time. It's just the way things are for us. But we're strong enough to handle it if it happens."

With a small nod, Pansy turned away from him and headed for the group of sleeping Slytherins. When she didn't see Blaise or Theo or anyone else with her, she turned and gave them all a harsh look. "Well, what are you waiting for? I can't get this lot up and out on my own."

Draco almost laughed watching four dark wizards, all much bigger than she was, scrambling to do what she said. As he watched them kneel or bend over the older students, slowly working their way through the crowd of faces that he hardly recognized but they knew intimately, his humor faded. Had three months bound them into such a tight group? Did he have any place with them anymore? In a room full of Slytherins, he felt completely alone.

By the time Pansy had everyone awake, showered and grouped together, the breakfast bell had rung. Draco leaned patiently against the door, feeling everyone's eyes on him. He had no doubt they had all found and read discarded issues of the Daily Prophet. Although only his trusted handful knew the details of his dealings with Dumbledore, the rest of the Slytherins undoubtedly knew about the destruction of his home and that the dark lord himself personally wanted Draco dead. Even if they didn't, he was still a Malfoy, possibly the last Malfoy, and his family was always a force to be reckoned with. When they were all before him, looking up expectantly, he stood straight and faced them.

"Things have changed since you were here last," he said curtly. "There's no time to explain it all right now. Just keep your mouths shut and don't start anything. Stay together. Never go out alone. And if anyone asks if you're a dark wizard, don't panic, but don't say one way or the other, either."

He opened the door and ushered them out in small clumps of young children clustering around older students, Pansy and Blaise at the front and Theo bringing up the rear with Vincent and Gregory flanking. They'd probably marched through the forest like that, he realized, and he glanced back at the empty common room, now a mess of mattresses, knapsacks and a handful of dolls the youngest had carried with them. Such cramped quarters, miserable to him, probably felt like luxury after months on the forest floor.

The walk upstairs turned tense when they joined the other students in the halls on their way to breakfast. Conversations faded and whispers sprung up as the Slytherins passed silently by Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, who couldn't help but notice that they all had one hand in their robes, ready to pull out their wands at a moment's notice. Edging towards the walls to keep out of their way, the other students relaxed a little when they saw Draco walking behind the rest of the Slytherins, keeping a close eye on everyone.

To Draco's surprise, he spotted Harry and several Gryffindors slowing to a stop halfway to the great hall. He noticed the looks on Ron and Granger's faces, not hostile but not friendly either, and he paused and put a hand on Theo's shoulder.

"When everyone's done eating," he said softly, "make sure they come back to the common room. I should be waiting."

"Where are you going?" Theo asked, and followed his look back to the Gryffindors. "Oh. Careful they don't bite your head off."

"Don't worry, I'm about to have Potter eating out of my hand." Separating from his Slytherins, Draco walked over to Harry, glancing briefly at the small group around him. "I need to speak to you," he said.

"About what?"

Draco spared another glance at the circle of red and gold scarves clustered around the Boy Who Lived. "Alone."

Harry sighed and let his shoulder slump a little. "Malfoy, if you just want to argue again--"

"Potter, you should be nicer to me, especially when I've gone out of my way to help you." He couldn't help his smile and from the way the Gryffindors leaned a little closer to Harry, he wondered how conniving and sneaky he appeared. "You'd be surprised what a dark wizard can do for you, especially when that dark wizard is also a potions master."

"You're not a potions master," Hermione said, more in surprise than in denial.

Draco almost challenged her, but then Harry's eyes lit up in understanding and he glanced over his shoulder at his friends.

"I really better speak with him," he said. "I'll be back soon, promise."

Leading him around the corner and into an empty hall, Draco scanned the corridor quickly before reaching into his robes and pulling out the vial. Harry's brow furrowed as he took the potion.

"You made it?" he said softly, turning it over in his hands. "After what I said to you..."

"Yeah, well..." Draco felt a smile pushing out onto his face no matter how hard he tried to force it down. "Severus says I'm to make this for you from now on."

"This was Snape's idea?" Harry asked, looking like he wanted to drop the vial.

His look made Draco laugh. "Hardly. I had to convince him that you didn't know I was making this. He decided that since I was already doing it, I might as well keep you supplied. Better than owing Slughorn any favors."

Harry grinned. "I can't wait to see his face when I tell him."

"Please let me be there when you do," Draco smiled.

They fell silent as a group of students walked close by, and as they passed, Harry raised the glass to the light. "It's red, though. Slughorn's was always white."

"Mm-hmm. I don't think I used as many ingredients as he does."

"More dark magic?"

"Not quite..."

With a tilt of his head, Harry stared hard at him. "Malfoy..."

"It's the same thing," he hurried to reassure him. "I just didn't add white lufurnia petals. And it's not like the potion needs them. It'll just be a little bitter going down, that's all."

Having experienced Snape's idea of what "a little bitter" tasted like, Harry did not feel reassured. "But why leave them out? You're a potions master, aren't you?"

"I'm still an apprentice--"

"For less than a year now, right? And dark wizards start out young, you told me that yourself."

For a moment Draco considered telling him that lufurnia was a prime ingredient of love potions, that Rowan's Heaven altered even slightly could become a love potion, and that he would rather avoid risking a horrible mess just because he couldn't brew the damn things. "I just can't. It won't work for me if I do."

Harry blinked. "Even with a recipe?"

"No." Draco looked up at him and sighed again, feeling the urge to confide in someone beside his master. Probably the little honey amulet working its subtle magic, he figured. "It's love potions. I can't make them, or even potions close to them. I didn't want to risk making something poisonous just to improve the taste."

To his surprise, Harry didn't tease him or gape. Instead, a broad grin spread over his face. "You can't make love potions?" he gasped. "That's wonderful!"

"No it's not," Draco snapped, annoyed that Harry was happy about it. "It's awful! Snape always calls me stupid and my mother looks at me like it's my fault and the portraits snigger behind my back...well, they did before I burned the house down..."

"It's good you can't do it," Harry said firmly, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "You can't make people live a lie. If you had any idea what love potions do...what they're responsible for..."

Draco felt a perverse urge to convince Harry he could inded make people live a lie, but he quashed it. Harry gave him such an earnest look that he didn't feel afraid to meet his gaze, and now he wished that he didn't have to follow the Slytherins into the great hall. He'd already been up for hours and he didn't want to spend more time with every Hogwarts student staring at him. Pansy had brought them through blizzard and death eater attacks, surely she could handle breakfast. All he wanted now was a quiet meal.

"I'm headed to the kitchens," Harry said abruptly. "Want to come?"

"The kitchens?" Draco asked. "But it's not night, you don't have to sneak--"

"It's not that," Harry said. "There's no one watching me all the time there. And you look like you don't want to go eat breakfast with everyone else, too."

More of the amulet's influence? Draco didn't care, he just nodded. Neither of them were surprised by the looks following them as the Boy Who Lived walked alongside a confirmed dark wizard, but Draco did feel a little surprised when he realized he was smiling. Fear of ambushes and lurking saboteurs faded away. Beside Harry, he felt safe.

When they arrived at the kitchen, the elves added a second chair to the one already prepared for Harry in the corner. Draco held his tongue as they sat down. Too busy with making poison in the morning, he always skipped breakfast and only came up for dinner, but it seemed that Harry was a regular, dining where no one could stare at him. As curious as he was, he didn't pry into Harry's sudden need for privacy. He'd been invited into the private sphere Potter had created for himself, and Draco didn't intend to botch it by asking the wrong questions.

"Pansy's going to kill me for this," he said as an elf served him.

"They'll survive being stared at for awhile," Harry said.

"Oh, you've never seen Pansy when she gets going. Rules her girls with an iron fist. I'm sure she's only gotten worse."

"No one can stay mad forever. And if she's that bad, we can hide you in the Room of Requirement until she calms down."

Draco shook his head. "Not there. That room always makes me nervous. What happens if you're inside and someone outside changes it? Besides, the room's eerie enough on its own. I once went in and it was nothing but a mess of thousands of pieces of junk."

"Junk? What were you inside for?"

"Had to hide something." He didn't elaborate. "Could've been a dead body in there for all I know. If I ever go in again, I'll be sure to have Vincent or Greg stand guard."

"Them?" Harry incredulously. "You'd trust them to guard something?"

"They're not idiots," Draco said. "They're not brilliant, but they do take commands well and they're loyal. They don't have to be smart."

"So they're just tools to you?" Harry asked. "Servants?"

"Of course they're tools," Draco said. "They've kept me alive for years and I've gotten them this far, when they probably couldn't have gotten past first year on their own."

"I don't believe it," Harry said. "Those two, keeping you alive?"

Draco half-smiled and pulled a plate of apples close, taking one and tossing it in his hand. "Malfoys aren't well-liked in this world, Potter. I could've been a saint and people would still hate me."

"We'll never know for sure," Harry said. "Saint Malfoy, now there's blasphemy for you."

"Ha..." Draco muttered, taking a bite. And he froze in shock.

The mixed taste of rowan and hemlock burned his mouth even after he spit out the apple piece and stared at the iridescent white of the apple. The two plants mingled with a charm to create a lustrous sheen that belied the poison within. Without thinking, he smacked aside the apple in Harry's hand. His reaction drew the attention of several elves and he grabbed the first one in reach, too distracted to notice that he'd grabbed Dobby.

"Who did this?" he snarled, shaking the elf. "Who!"

"Did what?" Dobby cried, prying at Draco's fingers until he got loose and fell to the floor. "What's wrongs with--"

"You think I don't recognize poison?" Draco threw the apple at Dobby and as it hit his head, he finally recognized his father's old house elf. "You useless, stupid--you worked for us for years! You damn well ought to recognize poison when you see it. Or did you do this, you worthless little--"

"Dobby wouldn't poison anyone," Harry said and stood up. As they spoke, cries of "poison" rushed through the kitchen and the elves clustered around them, examining the fruit for themselves. Nearly every one had been tampered with.

"It couldn't have been Dobby," the elf said, one hand on his head. "Dobby's been cooking eggs, he has. It was Daffy that washed the apples."

Draco turned and immediately spotted her, any previous trace of friendship gone from his eyes. "You?"

"N-no, Master Draco," Daffy stammered, shaking her head quickly. "I's only washed 'em and puts them in bowls, to go up--"

"Dear God," Draco breathed. "They've been served?" At her small nod, he looked around at the small crowd in a panic. "Don't just stand there! Get up there and stop them, hurry!"

As several elves disappeared, Harry drew close to him, holding the bitten apple. "But if you could tell it was poisoned, can't they?"

"Only because of the rowan," Draco said. "Only because I've worked with poison my whole life. Even if no one gets sick, everyone will know which one of us is dark."

A memory of his father's diary played in his mind, of young Lucius being poisoned to find out if the family would betray themselves. All these years later, the same sick drama unfolded around him, and he cursed himself for his stupidity. He should have seen it coming. He looked back at Daffy, who quailed under his gaze.

"Where did you get them? Where did they come from?"

"Master Filch brings them fresh from Hogsmeade likes always," Daffy said, breaking down into tears and wringing her hands. "Daffy didn't mean no harm. Daffy just does what she always does."

"Filch..." Draco ignored her whimpering as his mind raced. For most of the term, he hadn't seen Filch, but recently he'd seen him several times near the dungeons. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but certainly no Slytherins would have left the common room, especially not after what happened to him and Harry. Filch had no business in the dungeons.

"How long ago--?" Before he finished asking the question, he knew there was no use trying to find him. If Filch hadn't done anything wrong, he wouldn't know who did, and if Filch indeed poisoned the apples, then no doubt he was long gone by now. With a frustrated shout, Draco slammed his hand on the table, too angry to feel old injuries flare up.

Just as he thought he'd better rush upstairs and make sure his Slytherins were all right, Harry mumbled something unintelligible and unfolded a yellowed map of what he quickly recognized as the school. To his surprise, footprints ran in and out of sight with names attached.

"What on earth?"

"It's a map of Hogwarts," Harry said, "and don't you tell anyone about this. We're looking for Filch, right?"

Draco nodded once and came around the table, looking over Harry's shoulder. He couldn't see the map clearly, though, so he wormed his way under Harry's arm and leaned against him, scanning the halls for the caretaker's name. Nothing could be made out in the mess of the great hall and the first floor as several teachers started to move out, presumably to come down to the kitchens or search for intruders, but Draco looked past most of the castle and stared first at the exits and then at the dungeons.

Mrs. Norris' paw prints stood out first, tiny but distinct, and nearby he found Filch heading towards the door to his common room. Draco's triumphant smile quickly turned feral and he turned, slipping out of Harry's reach as he ran to the corner and opened the trap door, climbing down the ladder that led to the little closet in the dungeons. Wand drawn, he pushed the door open and quietly headed down the hall.

In moments, he spotted Filch at the common room entrance tracing symbols on the door, looking back and forth at the blank wall and a sheet of paper in his hand. Draco vaguely recognized them as runes, but right now he didn't care what Filch was drawing. He raised his wand but jumped as Mrs. Norris meowed, letting Filch know he wasn't alone anymore. The caretaker glanced up and froze for an instant, then turned and dashed around the corner.

Surprised at how fast Filch could run, Draco shifted his grip on his wand and chased after him, wishing he could have opened the common room and summoned his broom. If he could fly, he'd catch Filch in a second, but the man moved so fast that he briefly wondered if this was how the dragon had felt following him. He did not worry that he would lose him, though. Draco knew the dungeons intimately while Filch needed his cat to show him the way. By the time they reached the long corridor to the first floor, Draco had plenty of time to draw his wand, pausing so that his hand was steady.

"Tyrnan," Draco called out, aiming his wand not at Filch but at the stone beneath the man's feet.

Twisting up like water, the floor spiraled up and around the caretaker like a cage conforming to his body, turning him within the stone's curves so that his body contorted to its very limits. Filch screamed. A few more inches and bones would start to snap, joints would pop, and his head might very well twist off. As Draco approached, his prisoner spotted him out of the corner of his eye and glared, baring his teeth.

"I won't tell you nothing!" Filch spat, hardly able to move his jaw. "You bastard purebloods are finally getting what you deserve!"

"Who said I wanted information?" Draco asked. As if turning a sensitive dial, he rolled his wand between his fingers, making the stone twist a little tighter, constricting around Filch like a python. With each twist, he heard bones grind together, actually heard muscle rip. Stone muffled Filch's screams as it pushed his jaw shut and broke it. The tighter it grew, the more intense the drag on his victim's skin until it finally tore in places. Blood trickled down the winding stone, slowly at first, but Draco intended to continue until his sculpture turned into a fountain.

"Malfoy, stop!" Harry barreled into him, pulling him away from the statue and against the wall, knocking the breath out of him. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing he doesn't deserve," Draco hissed, pushing him back and raising his wand again, giving the stone another twist. "Get out of my way!"

"You can't kill him," Harry said. "Draco--"

"He tried to kill my Slytherins! He's been after me since I came here--"

"You don't know that for sure," Harry said, looking between him and Filch. "Even if you're right, he can't have been acting alone."

"Then we can ask his ghost."

Above Filch's groans and the rumbling of stone pressing in on him, they both heard voices on the upper floor coming towards them. Harry reached towards him and Draco shied out of his reach.

"Everyone's coming, Malfoy, and if they see you doing this, it'll make them think you're just like every dark wizard they've heard about in their storybooks." When Draco made no move to stop, Harry growled and took a step forward. "If you don't stop now, right now--"

"What?" Draco sneered. "You'll stop me?"

"If I have to," Harry said.

Draco looked between his prisoner and Harry. If he let him go right now, he still couldn't hide the damage he'd done, even if he wanted to. "He hurt us," he said. "He hurt you."

"If you don't stop," Harry said, "it'll just hurt you even more."

With a flick of his wand, the stone unraveled so violently that it spun Filch around twice before he landed, most of his body bent at wrong angles on the smooth floor. Sliding his wand back into his pocket, he turned away from Harry's outstretched hand and stood beside the wall, crossing his arms as he glared at him. In a few seconds, Dumbledore and McGonagall appeared at the mouth of the hallway, followed by Hagrid.

"Merlin, 'e's killed 'im!" the giant shouted, his eyes widening. "Malfoy's killed Filch!"

"I left him alive," Draco snapped.

"Barely," McGonagall scowled, kneeling down beside the caretaker. "You don't even know if he's the one who--"

"I caught that squib drawing runes on my common room," Draco cut her off. "You know they can't get in without passwords, and he was trying to--"

"You can't just go aroun' cursin' people," Hagrid said. "You really are a dark wizard through an' through, hurtin' folk just 'cause you like to--"

"That's enough," Dumbledore said. "I will ascertain his guilt or innocence myself, after Madame Pomfrey sets him right again."

"Might have to send him to St. Mungo's," McGonagall murmured, casting a spell to raise Filch without moving him. "I'll take him straight to the hospital. With any luck, Severus has everyone confined to the great hall."

"All students are accounted for," Severus said, startling her as he appeared down the hall, coming towards him and ignoring the body on the floor. "Except these two. I had to take five more children to the hospital. Pomfrey's there, if you'd like to take him now," he said to McGonagall. She frowned at him but took Filch away.

"The children were poisoned?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not severely," Snape said. "Mr. Malfoy's warning saved them from a second bite."

With Hagrid nearby, Snape would not speak openly, but Draco understood his meaning. None of the dark children had been poisoned. Even if a few Slytherins were among the sick, at least their real secret was still safe.

Hagrid grunted. "Well, Mr. Malfoy here nearly killed a man for no reason."

"He tried to kill us!" Draco hissed.

"You don' know that--"

"That's enough," Dumbledore said stronger than before, "both of you. Although I must say, Mr. Malfoy, that it is a good thing you listened to Mr. Potter. I'm sure it was his influence that persuaded you to stop. Had you killed him, I would have been forced to rescind your guest status."

"I was acting in self-defense," Draco said, his voice starting to turn harsh in sheer rage. "Which I've had to do twice now."

"A wizard against one without magic is hardly a fair fight," Dumbledore said.

If Draco had been a snake, he would have coiled tight, fangs bared. His whole body tingled. His children had been threatened by a lowly pissant unworthy of even looking him in the eye, and he was the one being scolded? "Father was right," he said. "This school's slipped since you--"

"Draco!" Severus snapped.

"But Severus, it isn't right," Draco cried, knowing he sounded like a child but beyond caring. "I don't care what anyone else says, if I have to kill--"

"But you didn't have to," Harry said softly.

Feeling as betrayed as the night Harry refused to confide in him in the kitchen, Draco stared at him. "How...how can you, you of all people...sssay that?"

Both Harry and Dumbledore blinked in surprise, but Draco pressed his hands against his mouth and looked up at Severus, whose eyes widened in alarm. He stepped closer and bent over Draco, examining his skin and wincing as he found the faint lines and loss of color that heralded his apprentice's change.

"A year early," Snape murmured. "It must be the stress you're under, the high emotions...and you've been casting strong spells..."

"No," Draco whispered, his voice muffled. "It'ss too sssoon..."

"Run," Severus said, stepping forward and shoving him once. "Run! Or do you want it to happen out here?"

Without another word, Draco turned and ran back into the dungeons, hearing his master say something else but unable to make it out. When he was at the common room, he didn't look at the runes still on the door but cried out the password as best he could, "sssnake'sss den." The wall didn't open, and he frantically pounded on the stone, repeating the password but only hissing even worse.

"Snake's den," a voice said clearly behind him.

One hand still over his mouth, Draco looked up at Harry.

"Snape said to come with you," he said simply.

Loathe to say anything, Draco just nodded once and went inside, heading down the same route he'd taken when he'd brought an unconscious Harry into the deepest tunnels. Familiar twinges of pain coursed through his body. He undid his cloak clasp and let the garment fall behind him, then unbuttoned his robe, dropping it without a thought. When they finally reached the dark shower room, he could no longer walk straight but had to stoop over, one arm wrapped around himself, and he felt his ribs and internal organs shift beneath his skin.

"Malfoy, what's going on?" Harry lit the torches on either wall and looked around. "A bathroom?"

Unable to answer, Draco went into each stall, turning the hot water on full and fighting his own mouth to gasp out the spell "seoleh." Water stopped running down the drains and began to fill the room, and Harry winced and adjusted the water so that it wouldn't scald either of them. Even so, the room filled with steam.

"If you're trying to make a swimming pool, it won't work," he said. "It's running out the door."

Was it? He'd never done this for himself before, always relying on Crabbe or Pansy to do it for him. Draco shook his head to clear it and felt the bone around his eyes ripple. He had very little time left. He cast another sealing spell on the door and hobbled inside the farthest shower stall, drawing the curtain closed and dropping his wand into the water. His fingers no longer had nails but instead ended in claws, and he used those to tear his robes free, sitting down as he completely undressed. He barely slid his pants off in time as he legs fused together in a short tail. The change finally came upon him in full, his skin turning to scales and his eyeteeth turning sharp. The webbing between his fingers grew thicker and his lower body elongated so that his tail could give him some balance, even if it couldn't support him properly. Despite the hot water and steam, he put his arms around himself and shivered.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked. "Are you all right?" His hand gripped the edge of the curtain and without thinking, Draco put his hand over it to stop him.

Harry drew back as if burned, but it was Draco's cold and slick skin that startled him. Kneeling down in the steadily rising water, he put his fingers around the curtain again. "Malfoy?"

The torches along the wall cast little light into the stall, and Draco dragged himself into the darkest corner, his tail slapping the water in agitation. The little honey amulet still hung around his neck and he clutched it in his hands, curling around it and closing his eyes as he heard the curtain pull back, heard Harry gasp.

"Draco?"

Harry's voice didn't sound horrified. From the sound of the water around them, Harry was coming closer, putting a hand on his shoulder. When Draco didn't move, he leaned close and pushed the hair from his face, a little surprised that Draco still had hair when the rest of his body was covered in white scales.

"What is this?" Harry asked. "Can you still talk?"

Wishing he was small enough to fit into a chink in the wall, Draco held the amulet a little tighter and pressed harder against the wall. "C-crossssbreeding hass a price," he whispered. Not only did his voice sound like one long hiss, but even his consonants sounded harsh as he had to speak from farther back in his throat. "God, don't look at me."

"But..." Harry whispered, unable to help himself. "You're not ugly."

Draco didn't know why that made him angry, but he suddenly hissed and slapped his tail hard on the water, splashing them both, and he turned and bared his fangs at him. "Sshut up! Go away, jusst go away!" He raked his claws down the wall, making a terrible screech, and then when Harry wouldn't leave, he lunged forward. Unused to his changed body, he slipped sideways and landed with one arm trapped between him and Harry. With his free arm, he tried to slash at the other boy, but Harry grabbed his wrist and held him tight, seemingly more concerned with not breaking Draco than with his claws.

That terrible feeling of being pitied instead of feared broke something in him. His hand went limp and he gave a few token struggles as Harry tightened his grip, forcing him still. When the tears came, Harry's hand on his hair seemed to make it worse.

"Go away," he whispered. "Pleassse."

"No," Harry whispered back. "I won't leave you alone now."

Draco tried to think, tried to come up with something venomous and cruel to drive Harry away, but the silence stretched longer and longer, and Harry's hand stroking his hair felt warm. His whole body felt warm. The only sound came from the showers but already that was muted by the hot water that now covered the floor. He'd spent time in this shape before, usually secluded in the bath next to his room, and once here during Christmas break with Crabbe and Goyle guarding the door while he languished alone in the shadows. He closed his eyes. He didn't want Harry to leave.

"I'm sssorry," he said softly. "Don't go."

Harry didn't answer, but he started to edge away from him. Draco winced and grabbed at him again, sinking his claws through his robes, but he found that he needn't have worried. As Harry managed to turn and settle with his back against the wall, he pulled Draco more securely into his arms and sat still. Fidgeting for a moment, Draco worked himself into a comfortable position and lay his head on Harry's shoulder, unable to stop a soft hiss of satisfaction. To his relief, it didn't bother him.

In an hour or maybe just a few minutes, Draco knew that the Slytherins would come back down, and Pansy would probably march straight back here and start snapping at him for thinking they were safe and leaving her to do all the work, and Severus would come down with her and call him stupid for shouting at Dumbledore and nearly killing Filch, and perhaps Dumbledore would even come with them and tell him he was being handed over to the Ministry. He didn't care. He slipped his hand around his amulet and drowsed, smiling a little as Harry sat with him in the dark.

TBC...

Authors Notes:
1. tyrnan, from Old English tyrnan, to turn
2. seoleh -- from the Old English seolh, seal
3. No, Draco does not have wings in this body.