Sleeping With Ghosts

Time Cannot Erase

Chapter Two - Heal You, Save You

I've been watching you from a distance

The distance sees through your disguise

Why should I care if they hurt you?

Somehow it matters more to me

Than if I were hurting myself.

All I want from you is your hurting

I want to heal you

I want to save you from the dark.

~~Evanescence/Give Unto Me~~

October 7^th Year

Draco stood at the bottom of the long winding tower staircase, feeling a bit daft. Somehow he had allowed Potter to gain the upper hand. Anger and embarrassment welled within him as he thought of being revealed in such a vulnerable state. Somehow Potter had known he was there last night, and would no doubt be checking for him tonight. Was it then not stupid to continue this charade? Hidden in an invisibility cloak which had already failed him once, Draco could think of no sane reason to ascend those stairs. And yet he remained where he was, one foot resting on the bottom step.

He should just toss Potter's cloak in the laundry and let the house elves take care of returning it to its owner. He should incinerate the offending item on the spot. He should march right up those stairs and ask Potter just what the hell he had thought he was doing. And yet he remained where he was, one foot resting on the bottom step.

How could Potter have known he was there last night? He must have shifted in his sleep, causing the cloak to fall away. Or, maybe he had made some sort of noise. None of that really mattered though. More important was the burning question of why Potter had done what he had done. There had to be a sinister reason behind it, surely, though Draco could find none. Draco ran his fingers through his hair and growled softly to himself. The Gryffindor was just trying to drive him mad.

Everything had been perfectly fine and then once again Potter had to go and screw it all up. The bloody git was so fucking irritating. He was going to confront the boy right then and there and be done with all of this rubbish.

And yet he remained where he was, one foot resting on the bottom step.

Confronting Potter was out of the question. He didn't know the Gryffindor's motives and he never went into battle unprepared. Yet what were the other options? He could stand there the rest of the night like a prat, he could run away to his dorm as if Potter was someone to be feared, or he could climb the stairs and see what happened.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Draco began to ascend the stairs. As the tower window came into view, he saw that he was not the first to arrive. Potter sat sideways in the window, knees pulled up, arms resting on his legs and he was holding that old bit of parchment again, staring at it intently. Draco barely had time to question the Gryffindor's bizarre behavior when Potter suddenly folded the parchment and shoved it into his jean pocket. Draco stood perfectly still, afraid to make the slightest move. A few minutes of eerie silence before Potter spoke.

"I know you're there," Potter said quietly, turning to face Draco's general direction.

Draco started at the sound of his name, his heartbeat quickened, and he stood there, dumbfounded. Recovering quickly, he suppressed a growl in the back of his throat and pulled off the invisibility cloak. Potter started ever so slightly.

There was an extended moment of silence as Draco stood there, arms crossed, glaring at Potter, who sat in the window, staring at Draco with expressionless eyes.

"Why are you here?" Potter asked suddenly.

"Why are you here?" Draco countered evenly.

Potter didn't respond. He simply continued to stare at Draco, and for a moment that old familiar anger flickered behind those cold, green eyes. Potter turned away and looked out the window, his arms still wrapped around his knees.

"You've no business being here."

For a brief moment Draco considered replying in kind. Instead, he took the winter cloak he had in his hands and threw it at the other boy, hitting him on the shoulder. The cloak slid to the floor. Potter appeared unmoved and unimpressed with Draco's outburst. He remained perfectly still and unconcerned.

"I came to return your cloak," Draco taunted, determined to get the boy to face him.

"Fine. Then you can leave now."

"I could, but that would please you."

A muscle twitched in Potter's jaw. When he did respond, his voice was still cold and sharp but it had lost the dead quality.

"And you, of course, are the expert on what makes me happy."

Draco smirked; antagonizing Potter was always so easy. He was in familiar territory now. "Of course. I understand you like the back of my hand. How else could I get to you so well?"

Finally Potter turned to him, his eyes narrowed. "Oh, yes, I'm sure you know all about me. From the history books, the magazines and your dear, Death Eater father."

The smirk faded from Draco's face ever so slightly, but he didn't bother to refute the accusation about his father. They both knew it was true. To deny it would be playing games, games they had played too many times before and had long since tired of. Draco stepped closer, but Potter didn't move, didn't flinch, just continued staring at him with angry eyes.

"I know you tenfold better than your so-called friends. I know you better than you even know yourself. I know how you lean your broom slightly left while flying. I know how irritated you get from shoving your glasses up when they're determined to slide. I know how you pretend to ignore the looks sent your way in the classroom. How you force yourself not to snarl at the first student who looks up in accusation or hope. I even know how you like your eggs. Scrambled and inundated with salt. Hell, Potter, I could write your autobiography and save you the effort."

Potter made a sound like he was choking back a laugh, but Draco's lip remained curled. "You should show some appreciation, Potter. I'm the only one that has noticed how you drown yourself in despair and self-pity. Where are the Mudblood and the Weasel now, when it counts?"

Potter swung his body around to face him so fast that Draco almost stepped back.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

Draco managed to grin, despite the hammering of his heart. "Oooh. Did I hit a nerve?"

Potter turned away from him once more, his voice returned to its quiet deadened state.

"Hardly."

"Poor, poor Potter," Draco said, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "Feeling dead to the world? Should I go ahead and pretend sympathy? I'll give you that chance you long for. You know, the chance to fire off that used and abused retort that no one could understand what dreadful things you go through. Poor, sad, miserable you."

"Is there a reason you're here?" Potter snapped. "For that matter, is there a reason you've been following me every night for the past month? You sure talk big now, but you didn't seem so brave when you were hiding under your invisibility cloak."

Draco ignored the taunt. His discovery still angered and confused him. "It's good fun watching you sulk."

"I didn't know you were such a voyeur."

Draco shrugged. "Not my reasonability to enlighten the dim-witted."

"That'd be a bit like the blind leading the blind, wouldn't it?" Potter still wasn't looking at him. How infuriating.

Draco smirked. "I hope it's not too much of an effort. I know it must be taxing for you to try to insult me and mope at the same time."

"If you were worth the effort I'd hex you right now and still manage to mope."

"Idle threats, idle excuses."

Finally Potter turned to look at him again. "Look, if your intention was to ruin a perfectly peaceful night, you've succeeded. You can run back to your dorm now. Unless, of course, you can't bare to be out of my presence."

"No, that's much to easy."

"Easy for what?"

"Easy for you."

"Fine. You stay here if it makes you feel important. I'll leave." Potter stood, and as he walked passed Draco, he knocked into him roughly. Draco stumbled a bit but didn't retaliate. No, for Potter, words hurt more than any punch or hex ever could. Draco spun around and called after him.

"Poor Potter, just wants to be alone with his pointless misery. Has to run away again, suppose he's a let down to Gryffindor house, too. Yet something else to add to his list of woes. "

Potter spun around, his eyes blazing. "You know nothing of my woes."

"Ah, right. We're back to the 'no one understands me' bit."

Potter's face was starting to flush and Draco relished every uncontrolled reaction. It had been far too long. But now that Potter had let down his wall, Draco found it far too easy to get under his skin.

"I don't care if you think that you understand me. I don't care if you think you know everything there is to know about me. You know nothing about me. Nothing. You don't know me, you don't understand me, and you never will. You only persist in attempting to torment me because of some petty disagreement when we were eleven years old. Grow up. And whereas your life seems to revolve around me, you are nothing to me but a mild annoyance."

Draco didn't respond at first, as he considered the possible truth of those words. He leaned casually against the wall, his arms folded. "Really?" he said calmly, looking Potter up and down. "Hackles raised and barely holding back petty physical fighting. Not quite a mild annoyance, am I?" Draco started to close the distance between them. "I make your blood boil. Admit it. I always get to you. Into you. You're always this close from lashing out. You're always this close from lunging and screaming and clawing at me." They were only inches apart now. "And it's always so easy."

Potter closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I want you to stop being so pathetic."

"If I'm so pathetic, then why are you wasting your time with me?"

Draco snorted. "Are you hard of hearing or just plain daft? I want you to stop being so pathetic."

Potter raised his voice and said each word very slowly. "Why do you care?"

"It's nothing personal, Potter. So don't get your hopes up. I'd just prefer a worthy adversary rather than the pitiful debacle I see before me."

"Yes, my life won't be complete until Draco Malfoy considers me a worthy adversary."

Draco snickered. "Don't really care if your life's complete or not, Potter."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"Then we're clear."

"Except you're still here."

"There is that. What are you going to do about it?"

Potter rolled his eyes. Draco enjoyed watching Potter try to keep the cool indifference he's managed for so long, while at the same time trading insults.

"Nothing. You're going to leave. It's really quite simple. But if you need some help, try putting one foot in front of the other."

"No, Potter. I'm not leaving. It's you that will have to do the running away because it's you that can't stand staying here and facing someone that doesn't place you on a pedestal you don't deserve in the first place. Go on, flee."

Potter's eyes were dark. "I never asked to be placed on a pedestal. It's people like you, who can't get past the Boy Who Lived title that created the pedestal. Now, unless you've something valuable to add to this conversation, I'm through wasting my time."

"I'm offering you something no one else has."

Potter rolled his eyes. "And what does Draco Malfoy have to offer me?"

"No expectations."

"Expectations about what?" Potter snapped.

Draco chuckled. "C'mon Potter. Don't give me that. You couldn't truly be in that much denial."

"Denial about what?" Potter gritted his teeth. "Look, I don't have time to play your games, Malfoy. Tell me what you're on about or leave me alone."

"I told you, I'm not leaving, but if you insist on being so thickheaded about things, I'll explain." Draco looked at Potter who merely crossed his arms and put on an expression of impatience. "You're scared, Potter. You're afraid you won't be able to follow through."

"You're not making any sense, Malfoy," Potter said in a bored tone.

"You're scared. You're scared that you're not going to live up to the expectations. You're scared you can't defeat Voldemort, afraid you're going to let everyone down."

Potter didn't reply right away. Then he laughed softly. "What, are you a psychologist, now?"

"I told you. I know you better than you know yourself."

"You'll have to excuse me if I disagree. I'm not expected to pay for this little therapy session, am I?"

"No, it's quite free. I don't assist you once I analyze. I just rub it in your face. Unfortunately, I don't even have that pleasure because you're too self-deluded to acknowledge your own weaknesses. How sad for you."

Potter's mouth hung open. "I am not self-deluded. And I'm not scared."

Draco raised an eyebrow and gave Potter a smug smile. "Now, now, Potter. Just who are you trying to convince?"

"I don't have to convince anyone. And I certainly don't have to convince you."

Draco rolled his eyes, then pretended to examine his nails. "He didn't look up as he responded. "Remarkable how well you've hidden the true extent of your idiocy."

"The only idiocy I've shown is having this conversation with you. Why don't you give up on the psycho analysis and go back to what you do best: training to be a little junior Death Eater."

Draco's expression hardened. "Fuck you, Potter."

"Oooh, did I hit a nerve?"

Draco finally looked at him but kept his tone calm. "You don't know anything. You don't even know yourself."

Potter drew his wand from the folds of his robes and held it casually. "You want to take me on for real? Or you want to keep playing these games?"

Draco moved forward. "Not games, Potter," he said with a steely undertone. "It seems that you really are nothing without the safety of your wand. No brains or brawn, it's your only resort. Hypocritical of you to accuse me, when it's you who acts quite similarly to your enemies. No wonder you're scared."

"I'm not scared," Potter said very slowly. "Voldemort is nothing but a callous murderer who hides behind people he's bewitched and coerced into following him. Don't ever compare me to him again."

Staring deep into the deep green eyes, burning with anger, Draco realized just how dangerous Potter could be. But he wasn't fool enough to back down now; he was here for a reason and he wasn't going to back away, no matter what it cost him.

"Or you'll what? Kill me? Torture me? Use the Cruciatus Curse? You know, you'd have to truly take pleasure in my pain for it to work. You'd have to be fearless. You could do it. You would do it, wouldn't you?" Draco paused. "Now, who does that remind you of?"

Potter stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet, his face ghostly pale. His wand hung loosely by his side. "No. No, I wouldn't, because I'm not like him." He took a few more steps back. "I'm not like him."

For someone who had faced down Voldemort and wormed his way out of death numerous times, Potter couldn't have looked more afraid. His expression was that of a small, frightened animal that had been backed into a corner and understood that it could not escape. Draco gleefully soaked in his expression and reveled in his discomfort he stepped forward and closed the gap between them. Draco nodded slowly as he was hit with a realization he had blindly ignored.

"Scared, Potter?"

Potter quickly masked his emotions. "Scared of what? You?"

"Are you scared, Potter?" Draco repeated.

Potter opened and closed his mouth. He stared at Draco for a few moments before finally answering. "You're repeating yourself."

"You haven't answered the question."

Potter shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do."

"What? Voldemort? No, I'm not afraid of Voldemort."

"No. Not the Dark Lord. No, I had it all wrong. You're not afraid of the Dark Lord. How amusing that you and he should fear the very same thing. You're afraid of yourself. You're afraid of what you are capable of. You're scared that what you do in the name of fighting for what's 'right' will make you just like those you fight against. Afraid you might become the next Dark Lord?" Draco paused to watch the color draining from Potter's face once more. "They authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses the first time around. What about now? Has Fudge authorized you to use Aveda Kedavra? Are you going to kill the Dark Lord? What's the matter? Afraid you'll enjoy it?"

"Don't be absurd, Malfoy." His voice shook as he spoke. "The only one I'd enjoy killing is you."