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Post by plzkthnks on Aug 14, 2012 9:15:40 GMT 1
To say that Harry was shocked would be an understatement. He felt Hermione's curse before he really heard it, felt his body size up and twist, his muscles springing to attention, stiff and uncontrollable. And then he was on the floor, trying very hard not to resist because he knew resistance would just make it worse. He stared up at the ceiling, refusing to meet Hermione's eyes as she looked down at him. He was such a bloody hypocrite. There he had been, silently debating on whether or not he should curse her and not feeling a damn bit of remorse about it—and now he was angry because she had acted first? Of course, it wasn't just that she had cursed him that angered him—it was her reasoning behind it. She was trying to protect him, trying to help him, despite the fact that he was practically screaming at her that no, he didn't want her help.
Hermione tucked her wand away and fidgeted with her robes a bit, smoothing the fabric with her fingers, a nervous habit that she had picked up from her mother. Her heart ached at what she had just done—she wanted very much to lift the spell before its end and pounce on Harry, a flash of bushy hair and hot tears, hugging him until he promised to forgive her. But she wouldn't. She couldn't. She needed him to hear her out, and she only hoped that it would help.
Her eyes flickered to Malfoy for a moment, who seemed content to let her take charge.
Well, wasn't that a change.
She looked back to Harry, and finally, spoke.
“I'm sorry,” she started, inwardly cringing at the way Harry deliberately directed his eyes away. “I am. I love you, Harry; you're like a brother to me—an insufferable, pig-headed, goat's arse of a brother.”
She swallowed, keeping her voice steady as her thoughts came in a rush.
“You're a right git, really. I'm not daft—I know what you're doing. You're trying to push Ron and I away in some misguided attempt to protect us. You think that everyone you grow close to will inevitably die.”
She paused, surveying his face.
“And you're right.”
Harry kept his eyes trained on the opposing wall, refusing to give her any bit of his attention. He tried desperately to force his mind blank, focusing on the hot anger coursing through his veins, encouraging it to weigh out his sadness.
“We will die,” she continued, kneeling down so that she was much closer to him, looking him directly in the eye—even though he still refused to return it.
These were the magic words she chose to try changing his mind? Harry swallowed.
Her voice grew softer.
“We will die, Harry. Death is inevitable. You can't stop it, no matter how you try, and you most certainly cannot save everyone. Especially by yourself. Our death is ours to worry about and, no matter what you've convinced yourself, this fight is not yours alone. Voldemort is a madman, Harry. I shouldn't exist and Ron is damned for acknowledging that I do. As are his parents, and my own, and whether we knew you or not, we would still want to fight. We want to fight for ourselves, just as much as for you, if not more so. You're being quite selfish, really. Incredibly so. Let us chose our own fate and stop trying to control it the same way everyone tries to control yours.” Harry was torn. His anger pulsed—he was selfish? He was selfish for wanting to protect those he cared about, for wishing with all of his might that they were okay? And yet a part of him felt defeated. He was being selfish. He was making this all about him when, really, it wasn't. There were hundres, thousands—no, millions—of other lives effected by this war. So many had made it about him, and while he certainly played a role, he wasn't the only one effected. Shouldn't he give Hermione and Ron the chance to help protect the ones they loved, like he was trying to protect them? Harry's eyes remained on the wall.
Hermione stared at him for a long moment, blinking away the burning sensation in her eyes, and pressed on.
“We're stronger together, Harry. Don't make Ron and I do this by ourselves. Please—please let us help you. And please.. please help us.”
She stopped, her mind reeling. She felt as if there were so much more she needed to say, and yet, she was at a loss for words. Sniffling a bit, she pushed herself off of the ground and recomposed herself, smoothing her robes down again. She glanced to Malfoy, silently asking if there was anything that he wished to add. She only hoped that something she said clicked, that Harry would be rational when she lifted the spell—but everything she knew about Harry had already thrown that idea out the window.
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Post by loekie on Aug 14, 2012 16:30:56 GMT 1
It did not happen all too often that our heir to the Malfoy fortune was unsure of something, or that he did not know how to handle a certain situation. This though was not something he was used to. The blonde boy however knew that it was a necessity. They needed to somehow get the boy to change his mind. He had once again leaned against the wall as the girl started their little… intervention. He had been rather surprised she had actually stunned her friend… he hadn’t really thought she’d be capable of doing so… but really, she was desperate wasn’t she? And desperate times called for drastic measures. Besides, it seemed she had tried everything else. He let her have her say first. He glanced over noticing how he purposely avoided her gaze… somehow though he thought he saw her words have some sort of effect. He could only hope that was the case as he listened to what it was she had to say.
Really, how had he gotten roped into this? He cursed himself for his weakness as of late. He supposed he would just have to deal with it and the consequences that may be attached. Merlin… sometimes he really hated his life. The blonde wizard cleared his head before he listened to what the Gryffindor had to say and really she did make a lot of sense… he could only hope that the other boy also saw it that way. He sighed slightly as he glanced over at the duo. Granger had just knelt down near her friend. She was trying to keep her voice steady and surprisingly he found her succeeding. It seemed all three of them had gone through some major changes. And even if they were to patch things up, things would never be the way they were. Change, however didn’t necessarily have to be bad thing. It might also somehow bring the three closer together. Either way, they were going to need each-other and that was what was important right now.
Watching the dark-haired boy swallow something seemed to have at least hit home. Her voice seemed to soften and she continued, pointing out it wasn’t all about the golden boy. He glanced over studying the stunned boy’s features for a moment. He didn’t know yet if they were actually helping, but for now it would have to do. They had no other alternatives and time was running out. He was well aware of the fact that Voldemort was on his way to regaining his power and planning his second reign of terror. Of course it was something he was supposed to be thrilled about… but all he really felt was hollow. Lived and tired. He knew however he was most likely not the only one though. He ran a hand through his hair as the girl nearly at the end of her speech was near tears.
He caught her look after she was finished and pushed himself from the wall he’d been leaning against. He moved closer to the boy still left on the floor his mercury gaze boring into his emerald one “Believe me Potter, I am the last person to think I would ever say this, but Granger makes a lot of sense” he commented “During our little game of chess I’ve already told you how foolish you were being… “ he continued with a shake of his head “As I have continued to do several times since then” he sighed “It however seems that you’ve stubbornly ignored it, keeping me in the middle of your little spat… what with Weasley harassing me” shaking his head as he crouched down before the boy.
“If you are going to stand any chance of getting through this victorious – as I assume you plan to do – you will need all the help you can get, because, believe you me, the Dark Lord will give you all he’s got” he sighed again “There is no way whatsoever you’re going to be able to do this alone” he locked his eyes with the boy’s once more “And they’re going to be fighting with you no matter what, so this little game you’re playing that is supposedly to protect them is only hurting the three of you” he added “Nothing more, nothing less” he glanced at the boy “You’re not alone in this, so stop bloody pretending that you are” he narrowed his eyes slightly “And just be bloody grateful you have people around you that you can rely on” he finished rising to his feet. He really did not understand him.
This boy, despite everything, had been lucky to be handed friend that would go through it all with him, and he was simply discarding that. It was something the young Slytherin just could not understand. He had often wished to have the sort of connection with anyone that these three had shared over the years… so someone to be there no matter what… however he had not been that lucky. Potter on the other hand… he shook his head turning his gaze from the boy back to the girl wondering what their next move should be.
[[finally posted...I hope it's alright... ? *smiles*]]
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Post by plzkthnks on Aug 14, 2012 21:16:48 GMT 1
And then Malfoy was talking, his voice steady, and Harry's anger throbbed again. Harry could understand Hermione's reasoning for this conversation, as much as he hated to admit it. She did care. They had always been so close, and she was obviously hurt at being shut out. She understood his reasons for trying, but she clearly refused to have any of it. Malfoy—Malfoy, on the other hand.. Harry actually looked at the boy as he talked, his eyes flashing. Malfoy had no room to talk. As far as Harry knew, he still fully intended to join Voldemort. He wasn't entirely sure if it was of his own free will, or an expectation his father had placed on him, but the why didn't really matter at that point. He hated Malfoy right then, hated that he had opened up to the other when he shouldn't have, hated that he had started caring, and hated that Malfoy obviously returned none of this.
A part of Harry tried being logical—maybe Malfoy was jealous, irritated that Harry was pushing away such close friends when Malfoy had had none to push away. But then, Parkinson obviously cared about Malfoy—as did Crabbe and Goyle, right? Maybe Malfoy had pushed them away before they were allowed to get close. What ever the case, Harry's logic was short lived, his anger swallowing it whole.
Hermione listened to Malfoy's lecture with a quickened heart. She watched Harry for his reaction and noticed that, this time around, his eyes met Malfoy's, although challengingly. She suppressed a sigh. If Harry could only push his anger or betrayal away—Malfoy cared. It was surprisingly obvious in his words. He wanted Harry to come out on top, wanted Harry to have what help he could to ensure that things worked out. Hermione questioned Malfoy's alliances again, wondering if Harry had brought this out in him, or if it had been there the entire time.
When Malfoy was done speaking, his eyes met hers, and Hermione nodded shortly. She looked back at Harry, clearing her throat.
“Now, if you refrain from being a pompous arse, you can have your say,” she said, withdrawing her wand again. She muttered the counterspell and, within moments, Harry could feel his body responding, his muscles protesting slightly as he hurried to his feet, turning to face the two. He decided to approach Malfoy, first, still not entirely sure how he felt about Hermione's part.
His eyes were dark when they met Malfoy's, and his mouth twisted into an uncharacteristic sneer. If Harry was thinking clearly, he would realize that Malfoy always had a way in bringing this out in him—not anger, persay, but emotion. No matter how hard he had tried to make himself an empty shell, his depression making it relatively easy, Malfoy always managed to make him feel alive. But he wasn't thinking clearly and his heart was too loud in his chest.
“You have no right,” he started, his voice hard.
“Who are you to lecture me? I'm not the only one 'stubbornly ignoring' something,” he continued, mimicking Malfoy for a moment before his voice returned to normal. “Here you are, pressuring me to make a stand—that's bloody rich. No one's kept you in the middle of this 'spat,' Malfoy. I never made you talk to me, because Merlin forbid someone makes Malfoy do something—oh, wait.”
The words coming out of his mouth were spoken in a slow rush, his voice hard and taunting and somehow, completely different than what he had wanted to say. He had wanted to yell at Malfoy, tell him to go to hell and that this was no longer any of his bloody business—but somehow, he was more or less lecturing the other. His anger had wavered a bit, apparently, twisted, and no matter how he hated that he cared, he did, and he was managing to make it bloody obvious. And yet he couldn't stop himself.
“Take your own advice,” he continued, taking a step toward the other. “Make a stand. You're not alone, either, no matter how you try convincing yourself otherwise. To worship is to surrender, Malfoy, and you're the last person I would expect that from.” He wasn't just talking about Voldemort—he was talking about everything, including Lucius. Those weeks ago, Dumbledore had made it clear that he couldn't help Malfoy until Malfoy helped himself and Harry had hated him for it—he hated that their laws were that corrupt that there was nothing to do to help someone so helpless as that six year old boy had been, no matter how he would have insisted otherwise. But Malfoy was no longer six, and Harry was realizing that he was no longer helpless, either. He had been careful not to pity Malfoy, had been careful to keep his nose out of it. Well, fuck that. Malfoy was helpless because he was choosing to be, because his pride was getting in the way of any logic he possessed. If Malfoy just stepped forward—he had his own voice now, he just needed to use it. If he just stepped forward, Dumbledore, Harry, and even maybe Snape, could help him. They could get him away from Lucius, pull him out of the lifestyle he swore he hate but did nothing to change.
After a long, deliberate moment, he pressed on, his voice softening a bit as he moved closer to Malfoy. They were face to face, now, barely apart, and Harry was too aware of his breathing, too aware his body heat. He searched Malfoy's face as he spoke.
“I won't surrender if you don't. Make a stand. Use your voice. I don't want to face you on that battlefield—but if I do, at least have the courage to chose that course for yourself.”
He thought of what Malfoy had said about him being victorious and he wondered if there were a deeper meaning in those words, if Malfoy hadn't just been reiterating Hermione's point, but if he had been encouraging him—if Malfoy wanted Harry to win. He certainly hoped so. He didn't really give a rat's arse on whether or not Malfoy joined their side—but, he did care whether or not he joined Voldemort. In a twisted way, he cared more about the reasons than the action itself. If Malfoy chose to join Voldemort, it shouldn't come as a surprise—but he wanted Malfoy to make that choice for himself, not because Lucius had managed to beat him into submission.
His eyes settled on Malfoy's and he was careful to hold the gaze, no matter how much he wanted to look away. Malfoy's stare had always been too intense.
Harry thought of the night before at the lake—he thought of how he had worried when Malfoy had went home for the weekend—his anger faded a bit and he thought of the six-year-old he had found in the hallway, the six-year-old that was confused and lost, had tried seducing him and bribing him with his body. His heart ached and, for a moment, sadness swallowed his anger.
“Of course I care what you choose,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “But I care more about the choice itself. Choose for yourself, Malfoy. Stop letting yourself be a victim just because it's easier to submit.”
He held Malfoy's eyes for another moment before turning away, facing Hermione. She had watched their interaction with widened eyes, twisting her robes in her hands at Harry's shift in moods. He was angry at first—that much she could tell—but he had managed to push his betrayal aside and she could see his heart in his words. Her eyes were burning again, but for a completely different reason, and she quickly blinked the feeling away as Harry's eyes met hers. She gave him a sad smile.
“I'm sorry, Harry—I really—“
“I know,” he interrupted, thinking for a moment. He couldn't honestly say that he had suddenly seen the light. He still agreed with what he was trying to do—but, Hermione did have her points. He had been so angry for so long, so angry that everyone but him had control over his life, that he had tried grabbing control in what ever way he could. But that wasn't fair. Hermione and Ron should be able to chose for himself and while he hoped, desperately, that he could make them choose to stand back, it was still their choice. “So am I. I stand by what I've been doing, Hermione. I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want you to die. And I know that's incredibly selfish. It's just.. this entire time, everyone's been telling me that I'm their savior, their protector—and.. I guess, I was just trying to protect you, fill those expectations.”
He paused, licking his lips, and tried searching for better words to explain himself, convince her—but then it was too late and she was rushing forward, a blur of hair and tears, and her arms were around him, pulling him close, and her face was buried in his shoulder.
“Belt it,” she muttered, her voice muffled but there. “I don't care, Harry. I don't care. You're here again and that's all that matters.”
Harry sighed, staring at the wall behind her for a long moment before saying, “Yeah. I guess I am.”
And, awkwardly, he returned her hug, her shoulders shaking even harder.
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Post by loekie on Aug 14, 2012 23:58:35 GMT 1
Moving away from the boy on the floor Draco sighed. He wasn’t sure it had worked… but he knew that he had at least awoken some anger in the boy. He could see the green eyes flash as they met his challengingly. His mercury eyes challenged right back. The blonde could understand the anger though, really he could. He was however really trying to help here. Something he had admittedly never though he would do. Contrary to what the dark-haired boy might think, he did care, not matter how much he was trying to convince himself he didn’t. The brunette met his eyes and gave him a not before she turned to her friend and her voice rang through the now dark tower. The girl undid the spell and it wasn’t long before the hero of the wizarding world was back on his feet facing them. The young heir did not have any illusions that he was going to change right away. It would probably take some time for it all to sink in.
Soon though Potter rounded on him announcing that he had no right to lecture him, and he could really disagree. He shook his head “Be that as it may” he shrugged slightly “But this is not about me” he countered before narrowing his eyes “Oh really? Weasley jumping me in the hallways several times, once stunning me and dragging me into an abandoned classroom being accused for messing with your brain is not involving me in this at all” he rolled his eyes slightly “That however is beside the point right now” he narrowed his eyes even further at the boy’s last words… setting his jaw slightly he just shrugged it off. What was the point in getting angry really? He didn’t really have to energy that that would take. The young teen frowned as it seemed the other boy was still not through with him. His voice sounded through the room. It seemed there was quite a bit more the other seemed to need to get off his chest as Potter stepped closer to him.
What was this boy on about? Draco’s problems were so different from his own. The blonde’s eyes darkened slightly shaking his head “I do not wish to surrender Potter” he met the other’s eyes “But for me there is no choice” Draco knew what the other was thinking though and shook his head and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He was no fool. Dumbledore and Snape couldn’t help, even if they would want to. Lucius was his father, and so, without the proper laws in place, that meant that his father owned him… and even if there were laws dealing with this, his father was powerful and rich, and – this was no different than in the muggle world – money talked and it had already gotten the Malfoy patriarch out of many charges. It was just the way things were and he had learned to accept it.
Maybe the other had a point though… maybe it was time he spoke up against his father; gave him a piece of his mind. He could just see it now though… see the look that would cross his father face. Oh the consequences would be dire. The blonde wasn’t worried about getting killed though… oh no, he had often wished his father would have just taking it what one step too far and actually finish the job. That would however mean doing him a favour and we couldn’t have that now could we? There were plenty of things worse than death though and Lucius knew all about them. He really wasn’t looking forward to those torture session, or whatever his father had in mind should he fail again. “This however, as already mentioned is not about me and my problems” he replied his voice calm and steady “And whatever my issues are, they only affect me” he continued “Yours on the other hand, apart from affecting your friends lives, could possible also affect the fate of this world”
Closing his eyes for a second he opened them again shaking his head “As for facing each-other on the battlefield…” he had no intention of actually allowing himself to live to see that happening “That is something of later concern” he said mildly surprised at the change of emotion in the boy before him. Draco could feel the emotion in the boy’s words… feel his anger ebb from them and could almost see the betrayal being shoved aside. He allowed his own eyes soften ever so slightly as he let the other’s words sink in. Perhaps it was time he took a stand as well. If Potter was able to do so… why wouldn’t he? The Slytherin ice-prince however was also well aware that he did not nearly have the courage the dark-haired wizard seemed to possess, and the years of living with his parents really had taken its toll on him. Making his own choices had become something so foreign. He had just never experienced that freedom. Heaving an inward sigh the boy was unsure what else to say. Potter was right… but it was easier said than done when knowing what the consequences were.
Potter had moved on to his friend anyway and so he just stared out the window listening. It seemed they had at least made some headway with the overstubborn Gryffindor. Draco looked up watching as Granger threw her arms around the bespectacled boy. The blonde smiled slightly as eventually, however awkward, he hugged the girl back. Mission accomplished… or so he hoped anyway as he leaned against a wall staring outside deep in thought.
[[Fixed a post for ya... sorry it sucks sooo bad though... hope you can do something with it though... and that it makes a little sense...]]
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Post by plzkthnks on Aug 15, 2012 4:19:08 GMT 1
((Harry's getting sappy again! Haha. And it didn't suck, m'dear. I loved it! I'm glad Draco is at least considering Harry's point. (: Heh. And sorry if this ends abruptly.. it just sounded right to end it there. -nodnod-))
Harry hugged Hermione for a long moment, leaning his cheek against the side of her head. He could feel her body stilling against his, and he thought of what Malfoy said, that meeting each other on the battlefield was something to worry about later. He frowned a bit. It wasn't—it was a very real possibility and Harry knew that they were running out of laters. His dreams about Ron's dad, the fact that he could see into Voldemort's mind, feel his anger—yes, they were definitely running out of laters. Malfoy argued that his choices were different because they only affected him, but Harry couldn't agree with that logic. They might only affect him in that moment, that split second he made the decision and voiced the choice—but down the road, the consequences weren't just his to deal with, especially when Voldemort was involved. But something inside of Harry told him that he had hit a nerve, scraped against something in Malfoy, and that hopefully, hopefully it stuck. He hoped that it wasn't just wishful thinking.
Hermione let out a slow breath and pulled away from him, wiping furiously at her eyes with the back of her hands. Her eyes flicked to Malfoy, who was once again near the window, and she could feel her eyes burning again. She blinked it away and offered him a smile. Within just minutes, Malfoy had managed to change a great deal of her perception—she didn't know if Harry was completely right to trust him, but the way that they had talked, interacted, she knew that there was more to him than he portrayed.. or at least she certainly hoped so. She moved past Harry to Malfoy, and Harry turned, his eyes following her. She hesitated, looking very much like she wanted to hug him, and Harry suppressed a smile.
“Thank you, Malfoy.” She said with a sigh, nodding curtly, and then corrected herself, “Er, Draco.”
And then her eyes were burning again and she exhaled sharply, unable to contain it, and threw herself at the blond, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly.
Harry grinned and felt something erupt inside of him, laughter working its way up his chest and through his mouth, his eyes meeting Malfoy's. Hermione was able to hold back another fit of tears, knowing that crying on him would no doubt take it too far—as it was, she could feel how tense he was against her and she pulled back a moment longer, keeping the embrace much, much shorter than she had with Harry. She smiled at him again, cheeks bright, and then stepped back, clearing her throat again.
Her smile widened at the sound of Harry's laughter, and she began to giggle herself; how long had it been since she had heard him laugh?
Harry's laughter slowed and he remembered his late-night swim with Malfoy, his smile firmly in place. It still felt foreign, but it felt good. He looked to Hermione and then Malfoy, his eyes lingering on Malfoy's, and his grin widened. Hermione cleared her throat again, licking her lips.
“Okay, well,” she said quietly, drawing Harry's attention back to her. “There's a lot we need to talk about, obviously, but I'll leave you two alone for a bit.”
She nodded briefly and offered him another smile, her heart swelling in her chest. She knew that things wouldn't be as easy as they seemed right then—there would no doubt be a lot of ups and downs, and even if there weren't, reaching through to Ron would be much more difficult. She knew that he felt Harry's betrayal much more than she could, if only because it was harder for him to understand the reason behind it, but they could discuss that later. She sensed that Harry and Malfoy had more to talk about, and no matter what Ron said, she could see the good in their friendship. She could talk to Harry later that night—and she definitely would, because she didn't completely trust that this wasn't an act. Her heart told her that it wasn't, that while Harry would no doubt try to convince her otherwise, he did see the wisdom in her words, but her brain told her to be careful and ensure that this wasn't an act.
“I'll be waiting for you in our common room,” she said. She thought for a moment and then added, “After a trip to the kitchens, of course. Really, Harry—could you be any skinnier?”
Harry smiled a bit as she gave him a pointed look, eyeing him up and down, and then nodded once more to Draco.
“'Night, Draco.”
With that, Hermione left, leaving the two boys alone. Harry turned back to Malfoy, shrugging a bit and muttering, “Mothers.”
He looked back down at the ground, scuffing his shoe a bit against the floor. He felt as if things should change now—that maybe, maybe he had said too much, or that maybe, just maybe, he couldn't have both worlds. He couldn't have Malfoy in his life and Ron and Hermione at the same time. He silently refused to let that happen. Of course, if Malfoy chose to walk away then, walk away from him and tell him to bugger off, then maybe he would reconsider—or maybe he would be as stubborn as Malfoy told him he was and pursue the other anyways, whether he wanted Harry's company or not. Maybe. Only time would tell, he supposed. He looked back up at Malfoy.
“You don't have to do it alone, you know,” he said suddenly, his thoughts flashing back to his previous statement, that he wouldn't submit if Malfoy didn't. He stood by it whole-heartedly, and he could only hope that Malfoy would consider it. He searched Malfoy's face, afraid of saying too much, but at the same time, not caring. He felt exhausted—he had put more emotion into one night than into anything else in a very long time, and it was making him slightly careless.
“I know the laws. You're not of age—but there are loopholes.”
He thought of that night in Dumbledore's office again—Dumbledore had said little more of it, except that, if Malfoy would come forward on his own, it would go a long way in his case. Harry wasn't naïve. He knew that Lucius would no doubt have connections, specifically in the Ministry. As it was, he had little faith in them as it was—but, no matter what happened, he did have faith in Dumbledore. Dumbledore had connections, too, even if Malfoy thought otherwise.
Harry moved closer to Malfoy again, meeting his eyes once more. He shrugged a bit, knowing not to push it, no matter how careless he felt.
“Either way, you're not alone.”
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Post by loekie on Aug 15, 2012 14:50:47 GMT 1
Still staring out the window glad that it seemed the two had found each-other again and really that was all that mattered right? They would need to talk and get some things out in the open, but they would figure things out. Ugh… before long he’d turn into a bloody Hufflepuf. Heaving another inward sigh he just continued to stare out the window. Soon Draco was aware of footsteps stepping closer and eyes on him. It was something training with his father had perfected over the years. He gave an inward huff before pushing himself from the wall he’d been leaning against and facing the two Gryffindors once more seeing the girl step closer to him. He frowned slightly trying to figure out what it was she was going to do. He however did not expect her next move… oh really he hadn’t. It was a strange feeling though… no knowing how something was going to play out. It didn’t happen often the young heir was stumped but he couldn’t quite place the look on her face.
Was she contemplating…. Nah… couldn’t be could it? The girl gave him a curt nod “Thank you, Malfoy” she started but seemed to correct herself changing it to Draco. It was rather strange hearing his first name from her mouth, but then again, what did it matter? There was not time to think any more about this “You’re wel…” he was unable to finish his sentence as she threw herself at him and he was engulfed by her arms. He stood there as if stunned for a moment – could anyone blame him? He couldn’t really remember ever being hugged – she hugged him tightly, and he had to admit, that even though it send shots of pain through his body from his previous ‘punishments’; that despite the fact that it was rather awkward and strange, it was… dare he say it… nice. Oh yes… definitely turning into a Hufflepuf. Oh if only his father could see this now. Wouldn’t that be something…? Soon enough she released him and Potters laughter could be heard soon followed by her giggles.
Smiling slightly he shook his head, it seemed they were going to be alright. He glanced up as the girl addressed Potter ending on the note that he was too skinny and needed to eat. He smiled… it was good she was looking out for the dark-haired boy, as he was going to need that during this. He briefly wondered what Weasley was going to make of all this, but then again… it didn’t really matter. if there was anyone that would be able to convince the redhead it was this girl. She turned her attention back on him and he nodded “Good night Herm…” he shook his head her name feeling a little too foreign in his mouth “Granger”
The two young wizards were left along and he chuckled slightly at the dark haired wizard muttered ‘mothers’. He however wouldn’t know. Narcissa was anything but a good mother. She had never even wanted children to begin with and had left the responsibility of raising him to Lucius. Oh at times she had shown glimpses of care. At times she had come into his room when he had been younger and she had cleaned him up staying with him till he fell asleep. This had only been a hand full of times though. Whether that had been her choice, or ordered by his father he didn’t know. And quite frankly it wasn’t as if it mattered. He had survived without it. He didn’t even know why he was still letting his father push him around now that he was older. Perhaps his father had instilled enough fear in him in his early years in order for him to still be too frightened to speak up against him, perhaps he simply had been knocked down too many times and just simply lacked the energy to even bother to try.
Then again, it might also have to do that no matter which way he looked at it, no matter how much he hated to admit it, his father was a powerful wizard, in more ways than one. It was not something he really wanted to think about anyway, although he realized that he would need to soon. Glancing over at the other wizard Draco meeting his as the other spoke, telling him he didn’t need to go it alone. He shook his head “You don’t understand…” he sighed, and really the other had no way of understanding… and it was best that way. The boy had enough to worry about and deal with without the blondes issues added as well.
“There is really nothing that can be done… my father has made sure of that” he sighed “Even if the laws were different” he leaned back against the wall closing his eyes for a moment exhaustion setting in. He had really not slept well these past few… well years really and lately things seemed to have gotten worse. Ah well… he had lived through worse. He ran a hand through his hair wondering for the millionth time why Potter even cared. He just couldn’t really figure it out… and was even stranger was why he himself had willing to help the Gryffindor… why had he cared? He sighed banning these thoughts from his mind. Enough wallowing in self-pity for today right?
“Either way, you're not alone.” Draco glanced over at the boy and nodded “Thanks” he sighed even if he wasn’t all too sure the boy was right, and even if he were… if he ought to be. Oh yes, life had definitely become a lot more complicated this year…
[[Here is my post... finally... hope it's alright!]]
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Post by plzkthnks on Aug 15, 2012 22:38:46 GMT 1
It was going to take time. Harry needed to remember that. Malfoy had clearly went through years and years of abuse—he wasn't going to find the strength to walk away from that over-night, nor was he going to conjure it out of thin air. He watched Malfoy carefully, hoping that he could knock some sense into the other. How was that for a change of events?
“You don't understand,” Malfoy sighed at first. Harry frowned a bit—at that moment, whether intentional or not—or maybe, just maybe, it was simply because of the firewhiskey—Malfoy sounded defeated. It was strange associating that with Malfoy. He knew that the other needed to make a stand and seemed unable to do so, which, if he thought about it, was practically the definition of that term—but defeated sounded too weak and weakness wasn't something he had ever associated with the other.
“Then make me understand,” Harry said quietly, his voice urging.
Malfoy thanked him and Harry's mouth twitched into a smile, his muscles sore. It really had been a long time.
“I mean every word of it,” Harry replied simply, holding Malfoy's gaze for a moment before looking out the window. The grounds looked so peaceful, and Harry was very aware of Malfoy's breathing again. It was funny how quickly things changed. He studied the lake—he could just make out the skies reflection and he suppressed another smile. His heart went out to the boy standing beside him. He hoped, he desperately hoped that Malfoy could find his strength. He knew Lucius would have connections. He knew it would be hard, and he could only imagine what the elder Malfoy was capable of. But molestation was different than abuse. If Malfoy would open up about those events, even a little bit, Lucius' control would be broken. Parents could punish their parents as they saw fit, yes, but children were still children, even in the Wizarding World, and there were certain things even they balked on.
He thought of that night he walked in on the younger Malfoy changing—he swallowed, looking back to Malfoy.
“You still wear glamors, don't you.”
It was a statement, not a question, spoken so quietly that Harry couldn't be sure if Malfoy heard it. How had he never thought of that? He could only imagine what Malfoy really looked like at that point, under his spells and robes and deliberate act—the thought made his stomach sick.
He swallowed and looked away, careful not to pity the boy. Pity was something neither of them could afford—concern, concern was different.
Harry wanted very badly to make everything stop. He wanted—more than he had wanted anything in a very long time—to be able to sweep Malfoy up and take him away, away from his father and the pain and the betrayal. He had a fierce desire to protect Malfoy, whether Malfoy wanted his protecting or not.
He hated Lucius right then. More than he had in a long time. It was suddenly personal, and the anger came in a welcomed wave. Fuck the Ministry—he would stop Lucius himself, if he needed to.
It was funny, in a weird way; Harry couldn't comprehend how so many people expected him to kill Voldemort, a cold hearted madman, a wizard who hadn't really been a person in a very long time, and yet he had no qualms with imagining Lucius' death, as slow and painful as Malfoy's abuse had been.
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Post by loekie on Aug 15, 2012 23:38:09 GMT 1
Still not quite knowing how to handle this, someone knowing his secret; something he had been trying so hard to keep from everyone. It seemed he really had messed things up. Perhaps though, that wasn’t even as bad as he had first thought it would be…? He would just have to think about this later, when he was alone. The young Slytherin just felt worn out. He wasn’t even certain how he was supposed to feel. The blonde had been suppressing them for so long that now they seemed foreign and out of place. Dear Merlin he really was going sappy. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at his own insanity soon being brought from his thoughts by the other’s voice. It was soft, yet urging. Making him understand? How could he? He had never even thought of discussing this with anyone… let alone share it with this Gryffindor. He really wasn’t the one to share and he really wasn’t planning on starting anytime soon. Ignorance was bliss after all.
Sharing would also mean digging up painful memories that he had tried so hard to push down over the years and he really was not planning on reliving them if he didn’t have to. He wasn’t too sure thought how long he would be able to dodge the other’s questions, but for now he just took a deep breath as he stared out the window as the other spoke again. He turned his head and gave the other small smile nodding his head slightly “That is very much appreciated, thank you” he spoke his own voice soft, and he wasn’t even sure if the other had been able to hear. No-one – except for possibly Severus – had bothered helping him and if he looked deep down he had to admit to himself that it was rather nice to not feel so alone anymore.
It was amazing really how quickly things had changed after he had taken the wrong potion by mistake, and maybe that was a good thing. It had been about time that they grew up and got past their childish little rivalry. The young heir didn’t know how much further these changes would go though. The raven-haired might think it would be easy to walk away. With his father at school that was only made more difficult. He wasn’t really sure his father could ever be stopped. He shook his head from these dangerous unhelpful thoughts as he turned his attention back on his companion as he asked him a question. So soft he had almost missed it. The silence of the dark however had ensured that he had heard it. His gaze was turned downward for a while as he contemplated what to answer.
Lying really was of now use was it? Potter already knew the answer, or so Draco thought. He nodded his head slowly “I am” he agreed with a slight shrug. He stared out the window again his mind wandering. He knew he really should not be dragging the other into this. It wasn’t right. The dark-haired wizard had enough on his plate, and even though he was sure Potter had been able to conjure up some sort of imagines of what was going on Draco knew he had no business of darkening the other boy’s heart even more then it needed to be. Life really had not been fair to the young Gryffindor and it just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t even pity he felt towards the other boy… it was more like… compassion maybe? He wasn’t quite sure.
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Post by plzkthnks on Aug 16, 2012 0:12:38 GMT 1
“I am,” replied Draco moments later, his voice just as quiet as Harry's own had been.
Harry's eyes darkened and he stared out at the grounds with gritted teeth. The anger pulsated around Harry, rolling off of his skin in slow, hard waves. A sick curiosity weaved itself into his anger. He wondered what Draco looked like, then, really looked like, but he was too afraid to ask. Asking—seeing it—it would make it real, more real than Harry thought he handle right then. After a long moment, Harry reeled his anger in and it curled itself against his ribcage, hard and there. He looked back to Malfoy, swallowing, unsure of what to say but feeling as if he needed to say something, anything, in attempts to make this, what ever it was, better.
He sighed, exhaling slowly.
“I hate this,” he said finally, his anger making him careless again. “I hate that I can't help you.”
He bit back the rest of his sentence.
How was he supposed to save the entire world when he couldn't even save one person?
He looked back out the window, folding his arms around himself again, his hands on either side of his abdomen. Again, he was practically overwhelmed with the desire to help Malfoy, sweep him up and take him away so that all of this was but a memory. He gave Malfoy a side glance, wondering what the other was thinking, but knowing better than to ask.
He wondered how long it would be before Hermione came looking for him. Part of him wanted to ask Malfoy to join him, but he knew that their problems were their own, and Malfoy had already made it clear that he was sick of being part of them. Harry sighed again, idly twisting his robes in one hand. He wondered what Malfoy would do when he left—drink himself into a coma? Doubtful. Harry couldn't see Malfoy drinking to that point. He was too.. controlling to become completely pissed.
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Post by loekie on Aug 16, 2012 0:46:34 GMT 1
Almost sensing the other boy’s anger Draco was sure it had not been the best of ideas to get the boy involved. Oh don’t get him wrong. He appreciated the other’s concern, he really did, but it do nothing but hurt the dark-haired boy and frustrate him further “I’m sorry” he sighed “I really should have never dragged you into this” he spoke his voice still soft. It was the simple truth. Potter might have been better off if they had remained rivals, remained enemies. That was out of the question now, or so it seemed, and he knew that it would most like not be possible to ever go back to the way their relationship had been before. He briefly thought back to their very first meeting at Madam Malkin’s. At the time he had not known who the other had been and he had probably made the other feel bad… then there had been the time the table were turned on the train were he had offered up his friendship and Potter had declined.
Would things have been any different had Potter accepted? Would he then perhaps have let the head place him in Slytherin? Draco wasn’t too certain and of course he would never know, as well they could not turn back time… or well… he supposed technically they could with the right equipment, but either way he was brought back to reality but the other voice and he shook his head “Don’t Potter” he started shaking his head “You’ve already helped plenty” he assured. He however could only imagine that the Gryffindor did not see it that way and he would just have to try to somehow change the other’s mind. Brushing some hair form his face he turned his eyes towards the other boy “You really have”
And it was the truth. Potter had taken him in when he was at his lowest and even though it had probably been the last thing he had wanted to do, he had taken care of him when he had needed it most. Potter had done all he could and now it was up to Draco to figure out the rest and somehow either find a way to survive and resign to his fate or to give up and throw in the towel once and forever. What did he even have to keep him here anyway? No matter how hard he had tried, his father seemed to hate him, and his mother had never wanted him to begin with. Ah that was something for another time though…
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Post by plzkthnks on Aug 16, 2012 1:04:12 GMT 1
Harry's anger lifted its head, listening carefully to Malfoy's apology. It bristled, strengthening, but with careful control, remained where it was. A small part of Harry was tempted to let it loose, tempted to see if it would wreak the havoc he had counted on earlier that night, with Parkinson— but he was also frightened to. He was frightened to find that he had exhausted it and that now, now it was just anger, hot and hard. He looked to Malfoy, dumbfounded. He had never really heard Malfoy apologize and actually mean it—scratch that, he had never really heard it, period. Malfoy's didn't apologize, or at least, that's what Harry had always thought. What struck him as even stranger, though, was the fact that Malfoy felt the need to apologize.
Pursuing Malfoy had been Harry's choice. He never had to take him in, all those weeks ago—not willingly,anyways. He could have said no, not that it would have necessarily gotten him anywhere, but he could have. Malfoy had done little to force Harry's hand. His actions had been his own and Harry voiced that thought aloud.
“Don't apologize, Malfoy,” he said quietly, looking at him. “I chose this path. You have nothing to apologize for.”
Harry smiled a bit—really, this path had been one of the few things he had chosen. Helping Malfoy—well, yes, it felt like something he needed to do—but more importantly, it was something he wanted to do. No one expected it of him. He expected it of himself.
Malfoy told him that he had helped already, but Harry shook his head.
Maybe he had helped. Maybe he had helped Malfoy discover something within himself that he hadn't known he had possessed—compassion—and that was certainly a start, but it wasn't exactly what Harry hoped for. Harry wanted to end Malfoy's struggle completely, not just equip him with tools that would no doubt make it worse. He couldn't see Lucius encouraging Malfoy to be compassionate, especially when the elder Malfoy had so little compassion himself. His eyes met Malfoy's and Harry gave him a small smile anyways.
“So have you,” he said finally, wondering if Malfoy ever doubted this. Did Malfoy want to push him away as he had wanted to push Hermione and Ron?
Harry swallowed, a bit of panic touching his anger. He didn't know what he would do without Malfoy. He hadn't realized it before, but Malfoy had this way.. this way of making him feel, whether he wanted to or not. He kept him grounded, although Harry doubted it was intentional, it was true nonetheless. The panic disappeared as quickly as it had come, but Harry stepped toward the other anyways, facing him.
His arms dropped to his sides and, without really thinking, Harry reached out, gently touching Malfoy's shoulder.
Harry's touch was soft and fleeting, his hand falling back against his side.
“Don't give up,” he said quietly. He didn't want Malfoy to give up on anything—himself or Harry. In a way, he was being selfish again—but he didn't care. If Malfoy could conquer this, find his voice, maybe Harry could find his again too.
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Post by loekie on Aug 16, 2012 1:50:22 GMT 1
Where he was sure Harry’s anger was still there, he himself at the moment felt rather empty. Empty tired. It was just the last few months catching up to him he was sure… it had been his coping mechanism for so long. Empty everything out. Go to a safe place where nothing but him existed. That way it was as if his father was not even punishing him but more as if he was doing it to someone else. It was foolish really, but it had kept him sane over the years. It wasn’t sure how much longer that would last though, but for now he’d be able to get through. Staring outside he was just trying to drown out his thoughts looking out over the grounds making out the distant shapes of the forest and lake and to the right his beloved quidditch pitch. He knew that he would have to go back to reality soon; head back down to the dungeons going through the same old routine.
“Don't apologize, Malfoy, I chose this path. You have nothing to apologize for.” Potter assured. Draco shook his head though as he turned his head to face the other “I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen in the first place” he sighed. He knew that in the end it had been the other wizard’s choice – even though he had yet to figure out why – it would only make things harder for the other boy. Then again, it was of no use to think about this too much, as really what was done was done. He met the boy’s green eyes as he was told he had helped the other boy as well. Draco was not too sure about this. How was it exactly that he had helped him? He couldn’t really see it, but if the other wanted to think he’d helped him who was he to stop him. The blonde was aware he should push the other away instead of allowing this – whatever this was – to develop further. The Slytherin knew he should but somehow he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do that yet.
Draco glanced up as suddenly he felt something on his shoulder. Potter’s hand had been rested lightly on his shoulder, hardly there, but as soon as it was there, the other had dropped his arm back to his side and his voice came quietly again ‘Don’t give up’ a clear message, if ever there was one. He lifted his eyes to meet the green once for a moment. He didn’t know if he could make that promise. The young heir really was just so sick and tired of everything. He really wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. It was not something he had to bother the other boy with thought and so he just glanced back at the boy “Neither should you” who would have thought that it would come to this… but come to this it had. He didn’t quite know just what Potter had wanted to say but he figured for now he would just have to figure out some way of holding on for now.
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Post by plzkthnks on Aug 16, 2012 2:11:57 GMT 1
When Malfoy said that he shouldn't have let this happen to begin with, Harry could understand. It hurt, but he could understand. A part of him hated himself for letting Malfoy have this power over him, the power to make him hurt. The same part hoped that Malfoy wouldn't abuse it. He couldn't comprehend how things had managed to get so mixed up—his friendship with Ron and Hermione was so stranged, and with Ron, no doubt nonexistent, and yet here he was, forging some sort of twisted bond with Malfoy over things that neither should know. He gave Malfoy a small smile.
“But I'm glad you did,” he replied, as if it mattered.
Harry's hand burned. He could feel the warmth given from Malfoy's body, despite the fact that their contact had been brief, barely there, and he was sure that he was imagining it—but, although that was no doubt the case, it felt good. It burned in the best way possible.
Malfoy met his eyes again and said, “Neither should you.”
Harry nodded a bit at the words, unwilling to make that promise, but knowing that he needed to. He needed to be strong, just as much as Malfoy did.
Silently, he promised that he would try his hardest.
Aloud, he said, with a slight smile, “Noted.”
He glanced back out at the grounds and, knowing what he needed to do but hating the fact that he had to, turned back to Malfoy. He was reminded of how desperately he had wanted Malfoy to open up those weeks ago, when it was a six year old in front of him, not a teenager. He had been so frightened that, when ever he left, Malfoy would close up again and they would have to pretend that nothing had happened—or worse yet, that nothing had happened, and Harry was falling off of his bloody rocker for thinking otherwise. He felt that way now, too. He knew he needed to leave and face the music, or rather, Hermione, but he wanted desperately to stay. He could only trust that Malfoy would be there again, hopefully sooner than later, and trust that Malfoy would try.
“I 'spose,” he said finally, “I should head back.”
He stared at Malfoy for a long moment, debating his next move. He wasn't quite as brave—or foolish—as Hermione. He wouldn't hug Malfoy, mostly out of respect. Their relationship was too fragile to jeopardize and Harry was frightened of where such an action would bring them. So, instead, he simply reached out, taking Malfoy's hand in his own for but a moment. Malfoy's skin was warm, soft—too soft—and Harry gave it a slight squeeze, holding Malfoy's eyes with his own. His thumb brushed over Malfoy's knuckles and, silently, he said everything that he wasn't brave enough—or foolish enough—to utter aloud. He promised Malfoy that it would be okay, a promise he knew he was incapable of keeping but desperately wanted to, and reminded him that he wasn't alone. He told Malfoy that he had helped, that he grounded him in a way no one else could, and Harry was thankful for his presence. He told Malfoy that he needed him in a way he couldn't explain—and then, Harry dropped his hand and turned, walking to the door.
He hesitated, turning his head slightly and tossing two words over his shoulder before he started down the stairs.
“Goodnight, Draco.”
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Post by loekie on Aug 16, 2012 11:01:54 GMT 1
Why couldn’t he just have kept his big mouth shut? That statement on how he should have let this happen in the first place was not meant to be hurtful… it really hadn’t. It was just simply the truth… at least to him. It wasn’t that the blonde did not appreciate the other trying to help because really he did. But it seemed to only add an extra burden on the other. Once again, he was almost certain the other boy would not see it that way. Wasn’t that just a typical Gryffindor thing to do? And perhaps deep down he was even glad that for now the dark-haired boy seemed to not give on wanting to help him… perhaps if only for the feeling of someone caring and not being alone in this anymore. Turning his gaze towards the other boy… how could Potter be glad he’d been roped into this somehow? Sometimes he really felt he would never understand the other… but it only reinforced the feeling that somewhere along the line the Gryffindor had been unfairly screwed by fate.
Still feeling the warmth of the other boy’s hand on his shoulder, his gaze turned outward yet again. Soon enough he turned his head back though to catch Potter’s reaction on his last comment searching his eyes knowing that just like him, Potter had been just as exhausted, tired and fed up as he was and that promising this would probably not be something the other had wanted to do, just as he had not been willing to make that commitment. When the other nodded though saw the meaning underneath. He was willing to at least try and Draco knew that this was all he could ask for at the moment. It would take quite and bit of strength for both of them to continue pushing their way through life, and maybe, just maybe, for once the fates had been on their side when it had somehow brought the two together. The blonde nodded at the spoken promise and returned the other’s slight smile.
It would soon be time for them to go their own separate ways once again. Potter would go back to his quarters he shared with his friend, and he himself would be going back to the dungeons at some point, hoping to avoid his father, if only for one night. The youngest Malfoy could only hope that in time they would somehow be able to keep this – whatever it was the two shared – wasn’t that a strange turn of events? Who would have ever thought he was actually enjoying their little interactions lately? His mind wandering back to the other night where they had jumped into the lake and for the first time in a long while he had been able to let go and just simply have some fun and relax.
Nodding slightly at the other boy’s comment and was a bit surprised when the other took his hand, Potters feeling a bit rough in his own, but not unpleasantly so. He smiled slightly surprising even himself with that. As the other gave a slightly squeeze he returned the move holding the other’s gaze just as much as Potter held his. Silently telling him he wasn’t alone… that it would all somehow work out and that in time things would get better for him. That if only he would allow himself a break every once in a while and let others that were so willing to help him actually help him. He wasn’t sure the message would be received. The other had dropped his hand again and was not moving towards the door hesitating slightly as Potter’s head turned slightly wishing him good night.
It still felt rather strange, hearing his first name out of the other boy’s mouth “Good night Potter…” he returned knowing that maybe he should also start getting used to using the other’s first name. It was just something foreign to him. He never really called anyone by their first name… not his house-mates, not his supposed friends… it was just a bit of a weird thing that he needed to get used to.
The other had soon left the tower leaving him alone again. He settled back down on his original spot at the window-sill staring out over the grounds having the bottle of fire-whiskey reappear in his hand taking a new swig of the amber liquid thinking of everything that had happen tonight.
[[I hope you don’t mind me ending it the way I did… If so ignore the last paragraph…. *smiles*]]
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Post by plzkthnks on Aug 16, 2012 11:11:03 GMT 1
(i loved it, m'dear! I can't wait to reply when i get home. (: three more hours! Heh.)
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