Perfect Hell

Chapter 2: No rest for the weary

"Harry, wake up you lazy sod."

Harry slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head groggily. Ron stalked back to his own bed, cursing under his breath.

"Weird," Harry muttered. He had slept peacefully all night. He glanced at his watch. "Shit!" As Harry changed and stuffed his book in his bag, as he tried to remember the dream he’d had the previous night. Suddenly, the image of Draco Malfoy came back to him. Harry groaned and let his head fall to his hands. Why? This is crazy! This is, well, good. It was scary, but for the first time in so long, too long, he felt alive.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry turned up even later than usual outside the much-hated Divination classroom.

"There you are Harry! For a minute there I thought I might have to ask Sir Cadogan to look for you. Are you okay?" Ron asked, looking closely at Harry. "You look pale. Did you eat breakfast?"

"I had some chocolate frogs," Harry lied, "honestly Ron, you sound like Mione!"

Laughing, the two friends climbed up the stairs to the classroom.

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All was not well in the Slytherin Dungeons. Draco, after waking up late, had been in a foul mood all morning. He had snapped at Crabbe and Goyle, bitch-slapped Pansy and thrown Blaise against a wall, without magic.

The Slytherins had never seen Draco like this and decided to keep a safe distance away from him. Only Crabbe and Goyle, not comprehending Draco wanted time alone, were following him. Draco spun around, infuriated. "Fuck off!"

"B-but Draco, we always have breakfast together," stammered Crabbe.

"Not today!" Draco yelled and stormed off.

Crabbe and Goyle looked after him, shocked. Draco never acted like this, what was wrong with him?

"If I see Potter, I’ll kill him,’ Draco threatened under his breath. Six weeks of work gone up in smoke – literally.

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"Order!" bellowed a balding middle-aged wizard.

Slowly, the room quietened down. They all looked expectantly towards the front of the secret hall.

"I open this meeting of the Order of Phoenix as relieving president," said the man, almost ritualistically. He continued in the same monotone, "if you have a matter that needs to be addressed, then turn your wand gold. Any discussion must remain until the end of the speech. Firstly, however, may I present the Headmaster of Hogwarts and founding member of the Order, Professor Albus Dumbledore."

"Thankyou Edward. I came here to reveal an urgent problem I have found. This problem involves Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

Gossip spread through the hall almost instantaneously. What does the Boy Who Lived have to do with the son of a prominent and influential Death Eater? Sirius Black and Remus Lupin leant forward in their chairs, eager to protect Harry.

"Quiet!" Sirius shouted, out of patience.

The entire hall fell silent. "Thank you. The problem is complex and I don’t know all of the details. What I do know is that Harry Potter is Godric Griffindor’s only living heir. Draco Malfoy is Salzaar Slytherin’s heir, although not the only living one. I know that they must face Voldemort and they will die. I also know that their deaths, and only their deaths, can kill Voldemort. It cannot be stopped. It is Fate.

I did not tell you this to alarm you. Just be prepared and offer your support to both boys when they need it. It is a heavy burden that Fate has chanced to give them. Farewell."

Dumbledore disapparated, leaving behind a shocked and bewildered audience. Sirius was fighting against tears, and gladly accepted the support of Remus’ embrace.

Minerva McGonagall observed the reactions of the Order to the news. With a world-weary sigh, she turned on her heel and pushed past the heavy oak doors. Although the snow hit her face relentlessly on the long walk back to Hogwarts, Minerva didn’t feel it. She was too lost in her thoughts … and her guilt.

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"No Transfiguration today – yes!" yelled Ron happily.

"Ron, do you realise how bad this is? Invisibility Transfiguration could very well be in the N.E.W.T.s."

"We’ll catch up later. Come on Nev."

As Ron walked off with his lover, Hermione huffed discontentedly. "No wonder they didn’t do well in the O.W.L.s."

"They did okay Herm. Not everyone is as smart as you."

Hermione blushed prettily. Harry turned around and, sure enough, Justin Finch-Fletchey was walking towards them, grinning broadly. "Hi sweetheart. Hi Harry."

"Hey Justin. I’m just going to go fly, okay?"

"Sure," Hermione said absently.

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"Yes – free period!" Draco exclaimed.

He watched as his fellow Slytherins paired off. He grabbed his broom and ran to the Quidditch pitch. He hated flying when it was snowing, but anything had to be better than watching Goyle and Pansy make goo-goo eyes at each other.

Draco’s bad mood intensified when he noticed that Harry was there too. Flying was Draco’s escape; he didn’t want the Griffindor anywhere near him. He watched as Harry looked down and flew to the spot right in front of Draco, using one of his more dangerous moves.

"I’ll kill him," Draco whispered.

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"Malfoy, we need to talk."

"No."

"Fine, " Harry shrugged, "I’ll just tell McGonagall that you were trying to kill yourself with an illegal potion."

"What do you want?"

"Are you going to try and kill yourself again?’

"Well actually, I’m going to kill you first and then myself."

"You’re welcome to try."

"So not intimidating!"

Suddenly a gust of wind pushed the boys to the ground. Harry looked up at the sky, concern etched on his face. "A blizzard’s coming. Here!"

Harry grabbed Draco’s wrist and dragged him across to the broom shed. As Draco closed the doors, Harry leant over the small fireplace. "Incendio."

They sat silently in front of the fire, trying to dry their drenched clothes. They ignored each other’s presence as they took off their robes, sweaters and shirts. Relieved of the soaking items, they started warming up quickly. Before they could continue their argument, they heard the scratching of the shed door.

"Quick, behind this cabinet!" Harry said urgently.

"Why?"

"We’re alone in a broom shed with only our jeans on. I don’t think either of us want that to get around school."

They crouched behind the cabinet and watched as Ron and Neville walked in, shivering.

"It’s so bloody cold."

"Ron, it was your idea to go for a walk by the lake!"

Harry’s best friend grumbled under his breath as he tried to dry himself in front of the fire. He took off his robe and watched as Neville followed in suit. The wet material molded like a second skin to his muscled chest. Harry’s breath caught in his throat as he remembered how Draco’s chest had been like that.

"C’mere," Neville whispered.

Harry and Draco watched from their hiding place as Ron leant forward and kissed Neville thoroughly. Harry’s cheeks became tinged with red as he watched the snog session. Fortunately, before any other clothes joined Ron and Neville’s messy pile of robes and sweaters, Neville pulled away. "I think it stopped snowing."

"Damn," Ron whispered, placing a kiss on Neville’s neck.

Harry and Draco both breathed a sigh of relief a moment later as the door closed behind the lovers.

"One more minute of that and I would’ve been sick."

"At least they chose a private place to snog instead of in the hallways, unlike you and Blaise."

"He started it," Draco whined.

Harry barely registered the comment. He thought he was going to go crazy. Draco was standing in front of the fire, firelight licking at his pale body. The stubborn pose he created accentuated his fine curves, making him look like some Greek god. Desperate to stop staring at Draco, Harry’s eyes scanned the room before settling on his watch. "Omigod! We have five minutes before the prefects’ meeting."

Draco scooped up his clothes, disgust clear on his face at their uncomfortable dampness. "Harendio."

Harry did the same before they ran to their dorms and then the meeting.

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Dumbledore was sitting in McGonagall’s seat as the prefects filed into the small room. Hermione’s pulse suddenly increased as she saw his somber expression.

"Is anyone hurt?" she asked.

Dumbledore gave her a reassuring smile, "No Miss Granger. I am simply filling in for Professor McGonagall. Please, be seated."

Despite Dumbledore’s assurances, Hermione was worried. She hadn’t seen him so serious and sad since the attack on Hogesmeade.

The meeting finished quickly. As they were leaving, Dumbledore asked Harry and Draco to stay behind for a moment. After a supporting glance at Harry, Hermione left.

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Dumbledore looked at the two curious boys before him. They were so young, so innocent. It wasn’t fair, this burden that fate had handed them. It was cruel that they had no choice in their future. He picked up two swords from the table.

"Harry, I’m sure you recognise this sword."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, open-mouthed. "Godric Griffindor’s sword?"

"Yes. This other sword belonged to Salzaar Slytherin."

The boys looked at it. It was long and elegant. Around the hilt there was a cluster of small, dark emeralds in the shape of a snake, surrounded by lighter, pebble-sized emeralds.

"It’s beautiful," Draco whispered in awe.

"It’s yours."

"You’re kidding!"

"No. As an heir of Slytherin, it belongs to you."

Draco stared at the headmaster before lifting the sword in his hands.

"Harry, as Griffindor’s heir, this sword belongs to you."

"But the Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin! I can’t be Griffindor’s heir," Harry explained.

"The Sorting Hat wanted you in Slytherin because Tom Riddle is of Slytherin blood. You are Griffindor’s heir, as was your father."

"Why tell us this now?" Draco asked.

"I am but destiny’s pawn."

Dumbledore left the room, leaving the two boys to puzzle over his cryptic statement.

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Draco was sitting in the Charms classroom. The room was silent except for the scratching of his quill on parchment. His attention to this task was so great he didn’t see the door open and someone watch him from the doorway.

"Potions homework?" Harry guessed, breaking the silence and causing Draco to jump.

"Potter. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked first."

"I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk and found you."

"You seem to have a thing for midnight walks."

"As you do for staying up all night. What are you doing?"

"Plotting ways to kill you."

"Can I have a look?"

"Are you really that thick Potter?"

"If you’re going to kill me I’d at least like to know how."

Harry reached for the small book but Draco snapped it shut and put his hand over it. "Stay the fuck away from me," Draco whispered in a voice that made even Harry’s skin turn to ice.

Draco stalked past Harry and back to the dungeons and his dormitory. As he dressed for bed, he realised he’d left the book in the classroom with Harry. A slow smile spread across his face as he went to sleep and, again, dreamed of his enemy.

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Harry stared after Draco, confusion evident in his eyes. His eyes checked the room and he saw the book on a desk. As he read the cover he grinned. Malfoy owns a diary? This is too perfect! When he touched the diary, however, it burst into flame.

"Pesarious."

The book was burnt beyond recognition.

"Reparo."

As he read the repaired diary, Harry’s hand began to shake. By the time he finished, his whole body was wracked by uncontrollable shudders. Almost absently, he picked up the diary and carried it to his dorm. As he watched the moon rise, he knew two things: he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, and he needed to talk to Draco.

Harry watched his shaking arms until dawn, amazed by his physical reaction to Draco’s secret.

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Draco was pissed off. It was one thing to have nightmares, but an entirely different thing to have them replaced by images of his enemy. They weren’t murderous images either. Yesterday he could ignore it, but last night he’d had a real image of Harry’s chest to supplement his imagination.

He slipped out of his dorm before any of his classmates awoke. He stalked down to the Great Hall and played with his breakfast. He talked to is fellow Slytherins a he subtly kept an eye on the door. He watched as Harry, surrounded by his small group of friends, walked in. Draco’s observing was cut short by the arrival of the post.

A beautiful snowy owl flew over to him and dropped a small package in his lap. Draco didn’t recognise the owl. It had brought his diary and a note to meet at the broom shed at midnight to discuss what had happened over the summer hols. Draco’s calm was gone as he met Harry’s eyes, his face filled with shock. Harry winked at him before turning back to his friends.

"What’s the matter Draco," asked Pansy.

"Bloody Potter!"

"I know," sympathised Blaise, "I can’t wait until the Boy Who Failed becomes the Boy Who Died."

Draco barely heard his ex-boyfriend. His mind was filling with plans to make this meeting much more interesting than the last three.

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