Didn't You Know

Didn't You Know

I always hate waiting in this drafty tower. It holds no resemblance to the dungeons that I frequent, the space being too open and unoppressed. Oppressed, that is my life in a single word. And yet I have never once tried to defy it or even try to find out just who Draco Malfoy is. Until Potter came along.

He's the reason I'm languishing in this dreadful excuse for a haven. Every night, for as many nights as I can remember, we've met here.

I'd like to fool myself and say that we meet for our never-ending rivalry, that every night we fight bitterly, until red blood runs in drivlets down the floor. If I did, I'd be a liar.

My father never raised a liar. He raised me to twist others to my will by using the truth to my advantage. I guess I owe my honesty to him. I can honestly say I owe him nothing else.

I'm drifting a bit, aren't I? I guess the cold night air is getting to me, maybe more then I care to realize. Potter's late again. His Muggle-loving friends have caught him. They have the uncanny knack of catching Potter when he's sneaking out, luring him away with games of Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess, and jugs of butterbeer and Honeyduke's sweets. And I'm left waiting here, just as I have every night, until he graces me with his presence.

I sigh, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. Even with my winter cloak, the temperature is tingeing my lips a pale blue. I know how I must look now, with my white-blond hair that glitters blue in the moonlight and these grey Malfoy eyes that I've inherited from the same aristocratic blue blood running in my veins. Potter's commented on that, on nights after we've fallen together, crashing together in exhaustion onto the ice-cold stone floor. He says that I'm beautiful because of it, that I've got the look of an elf, ethereal and otherworldly. He has the strangest muggle ideas in his head.

There I go, smirking to myself and talking to the air like I've lost my wits. I've been around that stupid Gryffindor far too much, the bloody git. Soon you'll find me hugging muggles and bowing to Professor Dumbledore.

I feel a gush of wind float around me, and I pause. I can feel something next to me, which rouses my suspicions. Looking pointedly at the area slightly above my right shoulder, I reach out with my hand, the fingers spread widely apart. For a moment I look rather foolish, my hand floating in the darkness around me. But then I feel fabric under my fingertips, and with an annoyed yank, reveal Potter, wearing an utterly foolish grin on his face.

"You always catch me Malfoy." His husky voice drifts into the empty space around us. I growl under my breath and move back to lean against the wood walls, my arms contemptuously folded across my chest. This seems to amuse him even more, that insane grin spreads farther across his cheeks. Stepping forward, Potter leans in until his face is inches away from mine. I can feel his breath tickling my face and chin, as he stares at me, silver to green.

"Miss me?"

I can feel his hands creeping slowly downward, tapping a path until they clasp loosely around my wrists.

"Why would I ever miss you, Potter?" I spit his name out as a curse. For a moment his eyes flicker, and I think I've angered him, something I've failed to do in the past weeks. He smiles instead, a gentle smile that makes my heart race and a quickening tightens around my navel. He lowers himself slowly, until his lips barely brush mine. I gasp; electricity jumps between us.

"No, I guess not." Potter sounds wistful but I don't have time to respond before he grabs me around the waist, pushing himself flush against me. He gently lowers me to the floor and I give in to his caresses. I can feel my hair fan out around me. Potter softly shifts aside a strand as he mouths his way around my chin. We are a tangle on the floor, our robes spread like a blanket across the stones.

Hours later, I watch as his chest rises and falls under the dim light. And I know what I decided earlier this night is right. Potter has become more to me then I will ever admit. The mark on my lower arm burns intensely; I don't have much time left. I allow my eyes to drink him in once more, his disheveled hair, boyish lips and those eyes, hidden behind the lids, that shine as brightly as the Avada Kedavra Curse.

Reaching underneath me, I retrieve a vial. Slowly but quietly, I tilt the mouth of it against Potter's lips, and as he slowly sputters awake I made sure that a few drops fall down his mouth and into his throat. His eyes fly open, and I can see the astonishment there. The betrayal burns there, in those cruelly familiar eyes and it hurts.

"I'm sorry." I whisper as I watch the change take place. As the black hair softens and merges into white hues, as Potter's skin fades from a deep olive into a supernatural translucence, as he slowly changes into me.

Snatching my wand out from under our bodies, I point it at him just as the transformation ends.

"Stupefy!" I yelp, dodging Potter's arm as he tries to restrain me. His body instantly relaxes and falls against me. It feels so strange, watching myself fall victim to the curse. Leaning over, I gentle brush my lips over his. One last kiss for the road.

In my outer-most pocket, I have another vial, created just for me. I carefully draw it out and down it with one gulp. Grimacing at the taste, I fumble to throw Potter's robes on, as the beginnings of the change begin to rake my body.

I clumsily wrap my clothes around the Gryffindor and quickly casting a weightless charm, float Potter's inert body to Madam Pomfrey. I find not only the school nurse, but Professor Dumbledore, Weasley and Granger, all bustling around in the infirmary. The two fellow Gryffindors give a cry as they see me approach, and I have barely enough time to steel myself before I am enveloped in their arms.

"Harry! We couldn't find you-"

"Yeah, I woke up mate and you were gone, Didn't see you anywhere-"

"We were so afraid-"

I watch this all with an amused smirk on my face before Professor Dumbledore steps forward, motioning for the two to stop their noise.

"Harry, you must understand that when Mr. Weasley awoke, and could not find you anywhere, that they were afraid for your safety. Of course, they sought me out here, where I was just about to bid Madam Pomfrey a good night." The headmaster's eyes twinkle and I wonder for just a moment exactly why he feels the need to wish Madam Pomfrey a 'goodnight'.

Clearing my throat, I gesture Potter's body forward.

"Malfoy and I," I said, hoping that my voice is a good imitation of the original, "We were dueling and I must have knocked him out, sir. I brought him here so that Madam Pomfrey could look after him."

I try to look ashamed. I feel strange, parading around as Potter, while watching him, no me, float unconscious to the nearest hospital bed.

Professor Dumbledore fixes his gaze on me for several minutes, until I shift uncomfortably. The twinkle never dies, only dims slightly.

"We shall see what can be done for Mr. Malfoy."

Granger and Weasley stand behind me, wisely silent.

A loud boom outside cause us all to yerk, Weasley yelping like a hurt dog. Professor Dumbledore twirls off with more speed then I would ever have given the man credit, in his old age. I quickly follow, Granger hot on my heels with Weasley not far behind. The entrance way into the castle has entirely crumbled within itself. I can see the Death Eaters swarm in. My blood slowly chills as right behind them I can see Lord Voldemort, in all his irrie glory, step confidently into the hall. What I've been dreading has come true and the plan I formulated is now fast on its way to completion.

Several of the Professors now fight in the hall, including Professor Snape, whirling his wand in a blurring spin of action. Death Eaters and students are falling everywhere, and yet I stand where I am, planted firmly in front of the gaping hole. I can hear Granger pleading with me to run. Weasley must be protecting her, as I can feel the rush of curses flying between the two and anyone who steps in their way.

But now I can only see Voldemort, as he moves closer and closer. The chill in my bones increases. I can see a dagger clasped in his left hand, the silver shining at me maliciously. Yet I'm not afraid.

He stops, inches away from me.

"You stupid fool of a boy.." The monster hisses at me, his breath creeping across my face. I stay where I am, praying that Granger and Weasley will stay occupied. I have to do this. For Harry.

I see it right before it is too late. His left hand swoops down, and I feel the blunt edge of the dagger pierce my chest, sinking into my lungs. I gasp horribly, blood bubbling out from my lips as I struggle to breathe. I can hear Voldemort's nail screeching laughter in my ears as my legs slowly give way, and I fall to my knees on the stones.

"HARRY! " I hear Granger scream above the roaring din that crowds my mind. No,I think, He's safe...You have nothing to worry about Granger.

"Avada Kedavra!" I hear a familar voice say. No. He couldn't be here. I'd made sure of it.

Voldemort's body sinks before me, his robe fluttering lightly over my face as it collapses into itself. I feel shaking hands, familiar, comforting hands, draw me into their warmth. I groan, the noise making a dripping sound in the back of my throat.

"Harry..." I murmur. I can see him, with my face leaning over me. This warmth that I feel, it's his lap. I'm in his lap, with his hands gently stroking my hair, his hair, from my eyes. There are tears in his eyes, my eyes, and they drip down that familiar nose that I see every morning in the mirror. This is so strange, I'm dying outside of myself.

Granger and Weasley must be closer now, because I can hear them. They're urging me to let Harry go. I guess it means the Polyjuice is still working. What irony. He's right here in front of them and they're too blind to see. I've saved him.

Weasley gasps again, that same sick puppy sound. Suddenly Harry's back as he should be. The Polyjuice has run out, the hour's up. I'm drifting away for good this time. I did it. I chose to save him and I did it because it was what I wanted. Not by any decree of my father.

Harry's still crying, the stupid Gryffindor. I want to tell him to stop, I want to make him stop. I can't because everything feels like it's fading fast. I reach up dimly but my hand can't make it. He grabs it instead, in his strong hands that he used to gently stroke me into excitement. He'll never do that again. I feel him lean over, yet again our lips connect in that fatal brush.

"I...love..." I choke on the words as the pain explodes in my chest. He holds me tighter now, against his chest, his body shaking so hard that I can't feel anything else.

"I know...Draco...I've always known." He sobs into my neck. I smile. Let him cry. It's not a weakness anymore. I know that he knows now. I've finally done something right. I've made up for every mistake I have ever made since the Sorting hat was placed on my head. Because... didn't you know, Harry? The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor.