Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Burning Violation ( Chapter 20 )

Part 20

At first Draco couldn't move or think. He couldn't even breathe as he met Harry's eyes, feeling as if he'd wither underneath their heat. Was anyone watching them? He couldn't tell. Everything around Harry blurred and turned dark. And then the Gryffindor got to his feet.

Acting purely on Malfoy instincts, Draco turned and headed for the door. He felt as if he was walking through water, fighting the current as he climbed the stairs, his feet dragging in the heavy air. Usually fear made him faster. This time he had to fight his fear to move, walking out of the room and into the hall. Only when he heard Harry's footsteps plodding heavily behind him and coming closer did he finally break into a run.

Too late. Harry's hand fell hard on his shoulder and spun him around, slamming him back against the wall. When he cried out, Harry put his arm up against Draco's throat and leaned hard, choking him.

"You lying bastard," he snarled, his face only inches away. His breath blew hot between his bared teeth. "I trusted you. I trusted you! All that shite about love potions--you lied! I can't believe I told you--"

He cut himself off with a bitter laugh. "'You're the only person who never lied to me'," he remembered, mocking his own words. "Should've known never trust a damn Malfoy--"

"Please, no--" Draco rasped.

"DON'T YOU DARE LIE AGAIN!" Harry drew back and punched him.

The world spun and turned black for a moment. Draco landed on the stone floor, one hand over his eye. He groaned and shook his head. "I didn't--oh God, Harry--I didn't mean--"

"Silencio!"

Only his own harsh breathing and the roar of his heart sounded in the hall, drowning out Harry's steps as he stood over him. Harry was going to kill him, he was sure of it. Draco closed his eyes and curled up, unable to get up. It wasn't fear. He felt too sick to move.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry landed on the floor in front of him, his wand skittering across the hall. Draco watched him snarl at whoever had cast the spell, then turn and focus on him. Flushed and on all fours, Harry dragged himself closer, his fingers spread like claws that dug into Draco's throat.

He couldn't cry in pain. Draco put his hand out trying to push him away and Harry's fingers fought with the high collar of his severe robes, twisting into the leather cord. A second spell blasted Harry away and back against the wall, snapping the leather from Draco's neck. The cord twisted in Harry's fist and all Draco could see was Harry painfully pushing himself back up, staring at him with hurt and hate.

Draco would have screamed if he had his voice. Gasping with one hand pressed against his throat, he got to his feet and ran down the hall. Someone behind him called his name but the voice sounded like it was underwater. Only his own footsteps echoed in the corridor as he turned left, then right, losing himself in the dungeons. When he came to a stop, leaning against the cold wall to catch his breath, he looked around realized he didn't know where he was.

Harry would come for him. He had no hope of fighting him. Harry always seemed to win every fight. Draco spotted a door nearby and pushed it open, not caring if he ran into something dangerous and forgotten. Instead he stepped into a bathroom where rust and black grime covered the sinks on the wall. The only light, a small flame in a stone holder carved into the wall, sputtered and coughed to life.

His harsh breath roared in the silence and he put his hands over his mouth to muffle it. The room echoed every sound back to him. Acutely aware of the tiniest noise, he crossed the room and stood in front of one the sinks, holding the edges as he started to sob.

But why? So Harry hated him again. It was just like the last five years. What did it matter if Harry hated him a little more? Everyone had warned him about befriending a dark wizard. What else did he expect?

The thought brought no comfort. His gaze wandered up from the black sink to the cloudy mirror showing a murky blur of himself. He raised his arm and wiped a circle clear with his sleeve, slowly revealing his reflection. Once he could see his face, he let his arm drop.

Rita Skeeter's photograph of him had only shown the image he'd wanted to project, a lost child afraid of the world. But he couldn't fool a mirror. Gaunt with slightly sunken eyes and cheeks, he'd gone from the whipcord strength of his flight across the country to a pale, exhausted shadow. He didn't look like a storybook dark wizard. He looked like Draco Malfoy, weakest Malfoy in a dozen generations and failure of the dark community.

The blood traitors and muggle lovers would never truly accept him. When his attempt to manipulate Harry came to light, they would try to send him to Azkaban. Even if he escaped punishment, he would be ostracized by the entire world. His friends would shun him if their parents demanded it. His family would disown him, if they were even alive. And if Harry saw him again, grabbed him again and looked at him with nothing but hate in his eyes--

He bent over and retched. Only stomach acid came up, but the effort made him shake. With a trembling hand, he blindly grabbed the old faucet and turned it, breaking off rust and bringing out a trickle of brownish water. He couldn't stop throwing up what little remained in his stomach and he bent lower, resting his forearms along the sink. Struggling to breathe, he tried to control himself only to be rocked by each cramp of his stomach.

After several minutes it finally stopped. By now the water ran clear and he put his hand under it, gathering some in his palm to rinse his mouth. As he caught his breath, he leaned his forehead against the cool mirror and moved to push his hair from his face. It was a familiar gesture borne out of habit, but he stopped as his fingers touched someone else's. Someone was holding his hair back.

Shrieking silently, he jerked away and backed into the wall before he saw Harry standing in front of him. For a brief instant he gasped for breath, pressing himself against the wall as if he might become part of the stone. Then Harry took a step towards him and Draco winced, turning away and putting up one arm to ward Harry off. As seconds passed he started crying again, unable to stop. His upraised arm came down on his face to cover his eyes and he slid to the floor, curling his legs under himself. The longer he cried, the harder he fought to breathe until he started to choke.

"Stop it," Harry demanded. He knelt and grabbed Draco's arm, forcing it down.

Draco couldn't imagine how hideous he looked. He kept his eyes squeezed shut and would've howled if he had a voice.

"I said stop it."

Harry's rough tone made Draco think he'd be hit again, cursed, condemned. The soft touch of Harry's sleeve on his cheek surprised him and continued to surprise him as his tears were wiped away.

"You'll just make yourself sick again." Harry gently examined the rising bruise on Draco's face but offered no apology.

Holding as still as he could, Draco wouldn't meet his gaze. He kept his eyes lowered and refused to react as Harry touched his face. Was this some kind of trick? A cruel taunt, perhaps. Draco's choking gasps turned into sobs and finally dwindled into constant quiet tears that showed no sign of slowing. He sniffled and let Harry brush his hair out of his face. His skin felt so warm, so alive.

For a long time Harry didn't say anything. Draco wondered why he stayed quiet. He knew better than to hope Harry wasn't angry anymore, but the gentle treatment and lack of accusations confused him. The minutes dragged and after a little while, Draco slowly looked up at Harry.

"You're lucky," Harry murmured. "I really wanted to strangle you. I wanted to beat you into a bloody pulp. Snape stopped me."

Draco looked back at the floor. He didn't even want to think about his master.

"Snape wanted to kill me," Harry continued. "Then he saw what I was holding and..." His voice trailed off and he scowled. "He laughed. I don't think he wanted to, but he couldn't help it. When I yelled at him, he just laughed harder and said I was stupid to think this was a love charm."

Harry held up the honey charm on its broken string. Draco flinched, thinking he'd be hit again. The charm glittered in the firelight like gold, spinning slowly.

"And then he said Malfoys were all stupid children."

The familiar jibe no longer sounded like an insult. Draco thought it sounded accurate.

"I still love you," Harry whispered. "That's why I hate you so much right now. Tell me, will I stop loving you if I smash the charm--"

Draco clamped his hands over the little bottle to shield it from attack. Shaking his head, he mouthed the word "don't" and refused to let go.

"Why shouldn't I?" Harry demanded. "If it's not real? If it's just a toy dark children play with, why shouldn't I smash it against the wall right now?"

Draco finally met his eyes. Even if he could have spoken, he didn't think he knew what words to use.

"I can't trust Snape," Harry whispered. "And I can't trust you."

He put his hand on Draco's cheek with calloused fingers that glided down his face and under his lips before spreading out and holding his jaw securely. The grip didn't hurt but Harry didn't let him move. Draco had no idea what to expect until he felt the invasion into his thoughts.

Unpracticed, Harry stumbled through Draco's mind as if drunk, raking through his memories and grabbing those that caught his attention. He saw Draco practicing with his quidditch team only a few days ago, then looked over his shoulder as he read the Daily Prophet on his first day back in classes. He felt his panic running from the dragons and his rage as he tortured Filch. He found Draco's flight through the blizzard and the fight against two death eaters, and he followed the strand of memory back until he saw Malfoy Manor in flames.

Aware of both his ransacked memories and the cold stone floor beneath them, Draco put his hands on Harry's shoulders and tried to push him away. Harry didn't budge and his grip on Draco's mind became tighter, as if his fingers were digging into the Slytherin's brain. Every occlumency lesson failed when put against Harry's raw power.

He watched helplessly as Harry skimmed over their time in the bathroom together, then seesawed back as he dissected the dragons. The feeling of going back and forth made him nauseous as Harry narrowed in on the time before he had the amulet and the time after, until finally he came to the night when Draco lay in bed writing their names on the tiny slip of paper.

Feeling like he would throw up again, Draco heard his own heartbeat growing louder, felt cold chills cover him in waves. Harry didn't ease off, and Draco shuddered as the memory was peeled back like a layer of skin, letting Harry creep into a part of his mind that Severus had never taught him to defend. The feeling of claws raking something soft didn't feel like legilimency, but it did feel familiar. This was what the dark lord had done to him, snagging vulnerable emotions and relishing them.

As Harry burrowed deeper, Draco screamed in silence, held in place as if Harry had sunk hooks into him. Even worse than the violation or the sense of being drilled into was the feeling that Harry wasn't just digging aimlessly. He'd found something buried deep in Draco's emotions and he was determined to unearth it. Draco began gasping for air. He sensed Harry's elation as he discovered whatever he was looking for, revealing a white hot light that stabbed through Draco--

They both collapsed on the floor. Shaking too hard to push himself up, Draco dragged himself the scant few inches into the corner, huddling in a tight ball as he watched Harry through his tears. He didn't know how he'd pushed Harry off. He just hoped the other boy stayed where he was, panting with wide eyes.

Of course Harry wouldn't do what he wanted. As the Gryffindor got on his hands and knees, Draco wished he could moan, cry for help, pray. He put his hands over his face and waited. Harry didn't take long. A moment later Draco found himself pushed back up against the wall and his hands yanked away. He tried keeping his eyes shut tight and felt Harry trying to open them with his fingers, almost caressing them firmly, coaxing them to open.

"Please," Harry begged, "please let me see. Please, I need it, please, please Draco, let me see it--"

Any attempt to push Harry off again met with less than a shrug and the constant pleading. The light that Harry had touched was something Draco didn't want to touch again, didn't want to admit to, but in his exhaustion, he couldn't stop Harry from opening his eyes. Without bothering to look at anything else, Harry raced right back down the same path he'd forced and into the blazing heat. Draco wanted to run away before it burned him but he was lost inside, turning and turning trying to find the way out until he gave up. All he could find was Harry enveloped in the same light.

"Say it," Harry whispered. "Please say it."

Draco opened his mouth, trying to form the words. Long seconds passed as Harry didn't stop begging and the heat grew so hot that he couldn't breathe and his tears evaporated. Harry at last fell silent and Draco finally found the words, mouthing them in disbelief.

I love you.

When Severus found them some time later, Draco barely raised his eyes. His arms were wrapped around Harry who lay against his chest, one hand still clinging to the amulet.

"Did you kill him?" Snape whispered, staring at Harry's prone body.

Draco would have laughed but he couldn't summon the strength. He had to wait for Severus to look at him again before he could communicate his need for a finite incantatem spell, thanking heaven that his master was a legilimens.

"He's alive," Draco whispered. "And I don't think he hates me anymore."

Severus knelt before him and put his hand under Draco's jaw, lifting his head so he could see his eyes and thoughts better. "Good Lord, your mind is bleeding. I think it's even burned. What did he do to you?"

"He wanted to know why I made the amulet." Draco's mouth quirked into a sort of smile. "He wasn't very gentle about it."

"You need to get to the hospital--no," Snape reconsidered. "No. To my workshop. A quick dose of heather will at least start mending your mind."

"Sev'," Draco murmured. "Is it really just a toy?"

Without answering, Severus reached down and pulled both boys to their feet, but while Harry stumbled to consciousness and fell back on the floor with a muttered curse, Snape bent and gathered Draco in his arms like a child.

"Keep up, Potter," he snarled over his shoulder. "Dark children are roaming the halls looking for you. If they find you alone, you'll never see daylight again."

However, the only dark children they met were Pansy and Theo who let Harry pass by because of the murderous look on Snape's face when he ordered them to fetch Pomfrey. When they reached the workshop, Severus set Draco down in the only chair.

"It hurts," Draco whimpered, curling up in his seat.

"Shut up," Severus grumbled as he took down a jar of heather. "You're supposed to be a coward, but then you go teasing lions and cry when you get bit."

Draco didn't answer. He should have known better than to seek sympathy from his master. He moved to put his hand around his amulet, then sighed when he realized Harry still had it. Risking a glance, he saw Harry sitting on the floor and holding the amulet close. The Gryffindor showed no sign of moving.

"Is it a toy?" Draco asked again. He looked out of the corner his eye at his master, loathe to move since his head hurt. "Severus, does it really do nothing?"

Snape finished brewing the heather and handed Draco a glass filled with purple liquid. He folded his arms and watched him drink in small sips. Draco brought the glass down against his chest as he drank, savoring the heat if not the taste.

"My apprentice," Snape said ruefully. "You're an adept at potions but now I see how badly I've neglected your charm work. Of course it's a toy. The only thing it's good for is giving shy boys the courage to talk to the objects of their affection, but you couldn't even do that right."

Snape turned to brew something else, but in a fit of pique he glared at both of them. "And while we're on the subject--Potter? All the students in the school and you chose Potter? Tell me, is it because you love making your life difficult or because you didn't think you'd annoyed me nearly enough for one lifetime?"

"I didn't have a choice," Draco mumbled around the glass. "I didn't even know it was happening."

With a disdainful snort, Snape went back to gathering ingredients in front of him. After a moment he reached for a thick notebook on the table, but after flipping through it, he realized that it didn't have the recipe he needed. He threw a glare at Draco as if it was his fault.

"Where's your grimoire?" he snapped.

"In the cabinet in the common room," Draco said quickly.

"Well, God knows I can't leave you two alone," Snape said and stood at the door, raising his wand. After glancing once at Harry to make sure he was still on the floor, he closed his eyes and concentrated. "Accio book."

Finished with his heather, Draco eased his glass back on the table and lay his head on his hands. His head throbbed in time to his heartbeat and he still felt nauseous, but the familiar calm of the workshop eased the pain. In the soft silence, the rustling of Snape's robes as he caught the grimoire in one hand startled Draco.

"What are you making?"

"Salve for the mind," Snape said. "It requires an incantation your father wrote."

Draco closed his eyes and tilted his head. Lucius had composed dozens if not hundreds of different dark spells, splicing them together from fragments of forgotten old charms and prayers to their long since vanished gods. Simply listening to Severus whispering his father's words eased the pain in his head. Like whispering his cleansing spell over and over again, he murmured the repeated words with him and the seared memories began to soothe.

Snape's hand came down gently on his head, and Draco blinked a few times before he recognized the bowl in his master's other hand. He took it in both hands and sipped the bitter liquid, gulping down pulpy bits with a grimace.

"I'll take you back to sleep this off soon," Severus said. "But this needs time to start working--"

"Draco?"

He flinched. When he didn't hear Snape yell or hear footsteps coming towards him, his gaze carefully swept down the chair along the floor to Harry's shoes. He couldn't bring himself to look any higher.

"Draco, could I--" Harry swallowed once. "Would you let me see again?"

Snape slammed the grimoire shut and glared at the Gryffindor. "Didn't you do enough damage the first time? You've torn delicate layers of consciousness--"

"Severus--"

"--proven exactly how violent you are--"

"Severus." Draco put his hand on his master's arm and met his disbelieving glare without looking away. "I have to talk to him. Alone."

"After what he did to you?" Snape's voice was an incredulous whisper. "Are you so delusional--?"

"I have no more delusions," Draco cut him off.

Severus paused at the flatness of Draco's voice. His look flickered over to Harry for a second before settling back on his apprentice.

"He will hurt you again," he said softly.

"No doubt," Draco said. "But not today."

Although he didn't have Draco's confidence in the matter, Snape simply nodded once. "I will go and see what's keeping Pomfrey. If he tries anything, throw him outside for the Slytherins to take care of."

Draco doubted he could push Harry off, let alone throw him out, but he didn't think he'd need to. Once Snape was gone, Draco sighed and closed his eyes again, resting his head on his arms.

"You hurt me," he said.

"You tried to use me," Harry countered. "Even if you didn't know it was fake, you tried."

Draco didn't deny it. "I thought it was working both ways."

"What?"

"I thought--" He paused. In retrospect, it seemed so stupid. "I thought it made me like you, too."

"Was loving me so bad that you had to pretend it was fake?"

"It scared me." He burrowed his head a little deeper in his arms. "And it burns."

The rustling of cloth along the floor told him that Harry was crawling towards him. He flinched even though he didn't think Harry would hit him, and he sighed in relief when he felt a warm hand cover his own. He raised his head slightly and found Harry on his knees beside the chair, leaning on him for support.

"Let me see it again. Please."

For a moment, Draco didn't answer. He raised his free hand and hesitated, holding it in the air before setting it down on Harry's. Either Harry was hot or he was cold because he started to shiver.

"It hurts too much," Draco said. At Harry's crestfallen look, he continued. "You'll just have to live knowing it's there. And so will I."

"But why's it so bad? You know I love you." Harry tightened his grip until Draco winced, letting go when he realized he was hurting him. "I know I shouldn't have hit you, but I was so angry."

"This year's been nothing but pain. Why should love be any different?"

Harry didn't say anything. After a minute, he leaned completely against Draco, resting his head on his side. Draco turned to rest against Harry and listened to him breathe. He could no longer tell himself it was because of the cold. And even though it was Harry who'd hurt him, being near him eased the pain a little.

That was the way Pomfrey and Snape found them when they arrived at last. No doubt Pansy and Theo had dragged their feet on the way to the hospital, probably hoping that if they stalled long enough, Harry might die of whatever magical injury he'd suffered. She paused in the doorway, holding her bag of remedies a little tighter.

"Harry," she said, coming next to him. "Are you all right?"

Harry barely tilted his head to see her, blinking in the light from doorway. "I'm fine. It's Draco that's hurt."

"Malfoy is under my care," Snape told him. "Madame Pomfrey is here for you."

Pomfrey did her best to ignore Severus and only paid attention to Harry. "You don't seem hurt," she said. She grabbed his chin and forced him to face her, pulling his eyes open so she could see them.

"He forced his way into Malfoy's mind and then dug into his emotions," Snape said in a clipped voice. "I thought the resultant lacerations and burning in Malfoy's mind might have affected Potter as well."

She let go of Harry and leaned back. "You did what?" she whispered.

"That's not all of it," Harry said, glaring at Severus. "Draco--"

Harry cut himself off so suddenly that Draco looked at him, trying to read his expression.

"Draco did something," Harry whispered. "But I overreacted. A little," he amended, glaring at Severus.

"'Did something'?" Pomfrey repeated. "Did he hurt you?"

A small smile passed over Harry's face. "No. It was the most wonderful..." His voice drifted off at the memory.

Maybe Harry would hurt him again. Everything and everyone else certainly did whether they meant to or not. Draco squeezed his hand and smiled in return, and even the constant ache in his head couldn't make him feel any less triumphant.

A dark wizard's smile did nothing to reassure Madame Pomfrey. Her look darkened and she shot to her feet, looming over him with clenched fists.

"What did you do to him?" Pomfrey demanded. "What did you dark wizards do to him?"

"What--?"

"You think I can't guess?" she said. "I may not know all your tricks but I know how to find them out. I'll find out what spells you've cast on him. Give me your wand!"

Draco glanced at Severus, who nodded once. Not sure why his master would allow this, Draco drew out his wand only to have it snatched out of his hand. Pomfrey took it to the table and pulled something out of her bag. As she examined it, she frowned even harder.

"So many dark spells," she muttered.

"Requested from the faculty," Snape reminded her.

She threw him a look but finally set the wand down again. Undaunted, she dug out a bunch of bottles from her bag and set them in a row. "I'll be using some of your empty vials," she said, sounding like she wouldn't take no for an answer. She glanced over her shoulder at Severus, who simply shrugged.

As she worked, Draco watched her until he realized she was performing the usual tests to see if Harry had been poisoned or drugged or charmed or jinxed, anything that might explain why the world's savior would cling desperately to a dark wizard. She worked remarkably quickly, almost driven to find a reason. One by one, she eliminated every possibility, growing visibly frustrated as she found nothing. When the last vial refused to turn whatever color she'd hoped for, she slammed it down so that the contents sloshed on the table.

"Is this some strange magic I've never heard of?" she demanded. "Something sacrificed? Trapped his soul somehow? What did you do?"

I was stupid and reckless, Draco thought but he didn't think Pomfrey would accept that. "I told him I love him."

Pomfrey opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, then tried to say something else. She cut herself off before she could begin. Putting everything away with a little too much force, she shook her head as she shut her bag.

"I don't know what you're up to," she admitted, glaring not at Draco but at Severus. "You know Harry's mind is fine. But we'll see how the headmaster feels about all this, and no one can keep secrets from him."

And with that, she turned on her heel and left, scattering several Slytherin students who'd gathered unnoticed by the door. Once she was gone, Severus shut the door and cleaned up the little mess on the table.

"Are you satisfied?" Snape asked. "That no potions or charms influenced you?"

"I knew that already," Harry snapped. "Why'd you bother bringing Pomfrey down here?"

"To confirm to everyone else that Draco did not manipulate you, despite his best efforts." He put his hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "Draco, if you do this, there will be no turning back."

"I know."

"Your parents, the other dark wizards, they may not him. The school will become a death trap. The Ministry will hate you even more."

How he wished he could say he didn't care, damn all their opinions, it was his life, but the thought of their judgment and what they might do weighed heavily on his mind. He had so little left to call his own. But then hadn't he already cast everyone else aside in everything he'd done in these few short months?

"Let them hate me," Draco started, then paused as he remembered something. He glanced down at the boy still holding him. "Do you hate me?"

Harry looked up at him and thought for a moment. "I'm still angry at you. I'm tired of people trying to use me. I don't want you doing it, too."

"I'm a Malfoy," Draco murmured.

"My Malfoy," Harry corrected. "No. I don't hate you."

Draco was too tired to smile again, but the answer left him content. "I don't hate you either."

Severus' sneer left no doubt as to his opinion, but he went and opened the door, startling Theo and Pansy as well as Daphne and Blaise. "Go round up the children still wandering the dungeons. And make sure you tell them not to jinx Potter when they see him."

"That's it?" Pansy asked in disbelief. "Potter hurts Draco and nothing happens to him?"

"You're right," Snape said and looked over his shoulder. "Potter, detention for a week." Ignoring Harry's unsurprised snort, he turned back and stared at Pansy.

"Now go on. And this time don't drag your feet."

As they scattered, Severus glared impatiently at his apprentice. "Well, get up. You should be in bed before the children come back. You've made enough of a spectacle of yourself as it is."

Nodding once, Draco nudged Harry aside and stood up, leaning on the table for a few seconds until he felt able to walk back to his house. Harry stood beside him, awkwardly putting an arm around him.

"I can walk you there," he offered, sounding like he expected his offer to be refused.

"You'll do more than walk him there," Snape said. "As much as I would love to throw you to the wolves, you must stay in Slytherin."

"What?" Harry's head snapped up as he stared. "Are you mad? You told me I'd never see daylight again if they found me."

"When they find out Draco has chosen you, they'll let you live," Snape said. "Which is more than I can say for your housemates. We are accustomed to the occasional convert. Their pride cannot stand losing even one to the dark."

"They knew I was friends with--"

"Idiot!" Severus growled, cutting him off. "Oh yes, you can be friends with a dark wizard, you can work together, they'll tolerate that. But love? All their pretty words about trust and honor will mean nothing, and while they may not kill their savior, they will kill Draco. Purely for your sake, of course. All the tests will never convince them that Draco isn't controlling you."

Shaking his head, Harry turned to Draco. "That can't be true. I've lived with them for years. I know them."

"We've lived with them for centuries," Draco said. He took no joy in Harry being wrong. "We have known them for generations. If you don't renounce me, they will kill you, too."

"You will have the opportunity to see for yourself," Snape said. "When news of this leaks to the rest of the school and the world at large, you will see the true worth of their tolerance."

By the look on Harry's face, Draco knew he wasn't convinced. It didn't matter. He'd be convinced soon enough.

Slytherin was still empty when they walked into the common room. Harry had to help him across the sprawled blankets and bedding to the same bedroom they'd slept in after the mob's attack. Severus gave them a stern admonishment not to leave and then closed the door, locking it behind him. Two torches flared to life, doing more to throw shadows around the room than light it. They did nothing to fight the chill.

Draco sat down on the edge of his bed with a sigh and reached up to undo the top button holding his robes closed. After the third try, he looked down and tried to focus on the little button, but his fingers kept slipping.

"Here," Harry said, sitting beside him. "Let me see."

Acquiescing as Harry undid it for him, Draco let his eyes close and shrugged out of his robes once they were loose enough. He dropped them on the floor and kicked off his shoes while he waited for Harry to pull the blankets back.

"Why's Snape letting me stay?" Harry asked. "I hit you. He hates me."

"Because he knows you're important to the war," Draco mumbled. "And because I want you here."

"You sure he won't hex me while I'm here?"

"He's probably just hoping you don't survive the war." He settled back on the pillows and curled up slightly, watching Harry remove his own robes. Like himself, though, the Gryffindor didn't strip completely down.

Harry hesitated. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Draco burrowed deeper into his pillow. "'Course not."

The bed jostled slightly as Harry lay down beside him, using the other pillow and scooting closer. Only inches away, his warm breath passed over Draco's cheek. He gently touched the lingering bruise on his fair skin, then resolutely met Draco's eyes. "I won't ever hit you again."

Although he didn't promise, it had all the weight of a solemn vow. Draco covered Harry's hand with his own. "I won't try to manipulate you again," he said, his voice slurred. "Deliberately."

"Draco..."

"I'm Slytherin, dark and a Malfoy," he insisted. "Some things I can't help."

"You're more than any of that," Harry said. "And you don't have to manipulate me. All you have to do is ask."

Draco's brow furrowed in confusion. That wouldn't work. The world didn't work like that. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped as Harry pressed his fingers to his lips.

"We can argue about it later," he whispered. "You really look tired."

"S'your fault," Draco murmured.

Before he fell asleep, he felt Harry edge close enough to drape an arm over him, holding him securely. As his eyes closed, he pressed a kiss to Harry's fingertips and reached up, finding his hand blindly and covering it with his own. To his surprise, Harry held the amulet in his hand.

TBC...