Vengeance and Vulnerability

The night was deathly silent except for the occasional breeze that blew across the grounds. By this time, nearly everyone was asleep. That is, except for two boys. One of them was a boy with dark black hair and he was creeping quietly under the cover of an invisibility cloak. As his feet plodded on the soft grass, he scanned his surroundings for a certain someone he was looking for.

Then he spotted a tint of silver blonde.

Harry smirked to himself and headed in the direction of the lake, his mind playing out the different ways he could exact revenge on his archrival for the prank that had been pulled on him that morning.

He tucked the Marauder's map safely in his robes.

Just as he neared the lake, he cast his eye towards where another pale young boy sat on the grass. By then Harry was close enough to make out the expression on the Slytherin's face, but he didn't understand it. It looked as if the boy was deep in thought, his face was tinged with an almost wistful look and he was staring at the calm surface of the lake.

Harry frowned slightly, wondering what he should do now. He only thought of coming to check on Malfoy to see what the blonde Slytherin was up to, but he had never thought of anything beyond that. He had been sure it was some new trick or prank of the Slytherins and he wanted to tip off Filch or Professor McGonagall. Now it seemed almost pointless, Malfoy was just minding his own business. While the idea of landing Malfoy in detention for being out on the grounds late at night was a tempting offer, Harry wasn't about to explain to Dumbledore why he had been sneaking around himself past midnight.

Harry looked back to the boy that had been his archrival for six years. He hardly seemed like the boy who had been the irritating git Harry knew right then, even though he still looked the same physically. Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what was the difference. Then, with a start, the realization hit him square in the chest.

Never in his life had he seen Malfoy look so peaceful before.

Along with this realization came the thought that Malfoy looked so much better without the usual smirk or sneer that Harry was already accustomed to seeing. Harry reeled at what his mind was insinuating. Malfoy? Pretty? He cringed inwardly. Damn, I must be losing it. He spent the next few minutes trying to squash that thought down and watching fascinated as the loose strands of Malfoy's silver blonde hair whipped across the sides of his cheeks in the mild breeze.

He stepped forwards and out of the shadows of the trees, trying to get a better look, but he didn't notice a small twig lying innocently on the ground it snapped into half and made a rather loud noise.

Malfoy heard the noise and his head whirled sharply around to where Harry was still lurking, invisibly, he stood very still and watched as Malfoy's eyebrows creased together in thoughtfulness. They stayed like that for quite a while, neither daring to breathe too loudly. Then, Malfoy stood up from where he was sitting and brushed the dust of his robes. Harry let himself relax a little, thinking that Malfoy had given up and dismissed the noise as a stray animal, but suddenly, he breached the little distance that was between them and felt for the invisible Harry. Harry only had time to vaguely register in his head that Malfoy's hands were soft and that he smelled faintly of lavender before he felt the silvery feeling of his father's invisibility cloak leave him.

The two boys stared at each other.

"Hi?" Harry tried, albeit lamely.

Malfoy's mouth dropped open and he seemed too stunned for words. However, it wasn't the case for too long.

"You!" he spat. "What are you doing here?"

"I might ask the same of you." Harry shot back.

Malfoy looked away. "It's none of your bloody business."

"Then I fail to see, why what I do, is any of your business too." That shut Malfoy up for a while and Harry felt satisfaction flow through him. A heartbeat passed, then several.

"Well, why are you still here?" barked Malfoy. "Get the hell lost."

Harry almost winced at the harsh tone emanating from his voice. Almost, "You don't own this place." The other boy was silent for a short while before he whispered so softly that Harry had to strain his ears to listen to him.

"I know, but I don't want to fight you right now. Just go away." He slumped his shoulders tiredly and Harry noticed for the first time that night how exhausted Malfoy looked. To say he was shocked would be an understatement for what Harry was feeling then. Malfoy had just said that he did not want to fight, and what's more, he even looked as if he meant it. Malfoy glanced at Harry and let out a small-amused smirk. "I think that goldfish impersonation isn't really necessary, I just wanted you to leave me alone."

That helped Harry overcome his shock. "I'm not going anywhere. What makes you so sure that you'll win the fight with me anyway?" Harry asked defiantly, raising his wand from his robes just to prove his point

The smirk wiped of his face instantly. "Just go. I'm not in the mood for this tonight."

Harry sneered. "When did I ever operate on your moods? I'm not Crabbe or Goyle."

"Now listen here, Potter," Malfoy began menacingly. "You're starting to get me very annoyed. I may not win the fight, but I'd try and there's a fair chance that I would manage to do a bit of damage to you too."

"I'd like to see you try." That was the last straw for Malfoy. He pounced onto Harry and tackled him to the ground. Punching and whacking every bit of Harry he could lay his hands on, not even wasting time to draw his wand from his robes. Harry ignored the growing pain in his stomach where Malfoy's fist had connected with him and retaliated with a few well-placed kicks of his own. They tossed and turned on the grass, fighting even more furiously than they ever had before. Something at the back of Harry's mind informed Harry cheerfully that he was enjoying this in a twisted sort of way. It almost seemed as thought Harry had missed these fights that had steadily grown rarer recently. Sure, Malfoy still traded insults, but even those were almost half-hearted.

The two boys stopped rolling as Malfoy effectively pinned Harry under him using his body weight. Harry tried not to let the smell of lavender distract him. One of Malfoy's hands finally reached to clasp Harry's neck firmly. He tightened his grip and Harry felt those soft hands closing off his passage for air. He stared into those silver grey orbs that were Malfoy's eyes and something seemed to snap behind them. The hands suddenly released themselves from Harry's neck and Malfoy fell backwards onto the grass before hastily scrambling up to his feet. "I..." he paused and stared at his hands, confusion showing clearly in his silver eyes.

Harry massaged his neck gently. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

"Shit," he muttered. Harry could see that his confusion was slowly turning to anger. "I told you to leave. Why couldn't you just do what I fucking said for once?" He was yelling now.

"I don't live to follow your orders!" yelled back Harry.

"Well maybe you should!"

"Get over yourself already!"

Malfoy shook his head. This time, he said much softer, "Go. Just go. You can go report to Dumbledore for all I care, God knows I'm sick of all this." Harry's eyes widened. Malfoy fell to the ground once again, almost as though his legs couldn't hold him up anymore. He stared blankly at the surface of the lake again and Harry recognized the wistful look from moments ago. He looked at the lake too. Suddenly, something clicked in place in Harry's mind and the Gryffindor panicked. "Malfoy, you're not planning to do what I think you're about to do, are you?" No answer.

"Malfoy?" Still, no answer. "Damned, answer me!"

Malfoy's gaze never left the lake, but he confirmed Harry's fears by saying, "I sometimes wonder... It would make things so much easier."

Harry regretted asking instantly. Much as he hated Malfoy, he didn't think he wanted him dead. "No. Dying won't make whatever problems you're facing go away," Harry pointed out.

"You don't know my problems," whispered Malfoy.

"I may not know, but no problem is so great that it's worth dying for!" Harry's voice grew louder. "I thought you had more spine than that."

Something resembling hatred flashed through Malfoy's pale features. "Get lost, you don't know anything."

Harry stood up angrily. "Well, I guess you're right. I should just let you wallow in self-pity here. Hell, it'd be even better if you died here. Then no one would have to put up with your pathetic whining any more." Harry ignored the part of his brain that tried to tell him this was not true.

"Fuck off," came the snarled reply. Harry did not intend to do that, but he had no idea what else to say anymore. He was used to seeing a proud and arrogant rival, not a broken and battered Malfoy. No, that sentence was wrong. Malfoys do not break. This was not Malfoy any longer, this was Draco.

Harry felt strangely surprised by the fact that he did not scorn this realization, nor did he blame anyone for it, instead he thought that it felt the rightist thing possible. Somewhere along the lines of his hatred for this boy, a small soft spot had emerged and it had evolved into its full size when he found this broken boy in front of him now. Harry was quiet for a long while before he said, "There's no way you can do that, not in front of me anyway, I won't let you die."

Draco's breathing hitched and his last resolves seem to crumple away. He brought his knees together and wrapped his arms around them, shaking involuntarily. It was then that Harry drew in a sudden gasp. There were long flowing scars, which looked as though they were recently cut on both of Malfoy's arms. The incisions skillfully made, deep enough to hurt, but not to kill. For a moment, Harry was too stunned to do anything. He stood rooted to the ground, taking in all of this new information about his archrival, but then his common sense got hold of him and he rushed to the near convulsing boy.

Now that he was this close, he could see the other faint marks on Draco's arms. They looked as though the boy healed them himself. He had done a very good job; there were no scars. Just an occasional small white line here and there that was almost invisible against his pale skin. It was no wonder that no one had spotted them. Harry could hear Draco's uneven breathing and he thought that the boy was crying. He took his now vulnerable-looking rival's head in his hands and forced Draco to face him.

Draco was still trembling badly and not breathing properly, but there were no tears streaming down his cheeks and it was very unsettling. As Harry stared into the usually silvery orbs, he found that they were now a stormy grey and the usual fire he was in them was gone, replaced by an empty pit of darkness. This darkness scared him and he realized with a start that he was mortally afraid that he would never see the passion in Draco's silver eyes again. "Draco," he whispered shakily. "Tell me you didn't do this."

The boy tried to wriggle out of his grasp and ignored the Gryffindor. Harry had to use all his strength to keep Draco where he was, but he knew he could not stop him forever; besides, the boy was still losing blood. "Wait. At least let me heal these first." Harry took out his wand and cast a third-level healing spell on the wounds so that they sealed up nicely, leaving nothing but a thin white line.

"Let go of me," Draco rasped hoarsely. His voice mingled with the agony he was feeling and Harry could hear it too. He was staring at Harry's hands on his arms as though they burnt him. Harry let go, fearing that it would cause Draco even more pain, but it was a mistake. The blonde boy hastily got to his feet and tried to run away, but his footsteps were unstable and it was not long before Harry's hands reached out to prevent him from going any further.

"Please," Harry begged. "You need help. Stop hurting yourself."

Draco's face contorted into an unpleasant look. "You can't save everyone, Potter."

"No, but I'll try to save at least you first." Harry hoped what he said was enough to penetrate the thick wall that the Slytherin had enveloped himself in. It must have, for the boy stopped struggling and stayed unmoving. For a moment, Harry thought he was about to either break down again or whip around and hex Harry into oblivion, but he did neither and Harry was overwhelmed by the uncanny urge to bring the smaller boy into his arms.

It was slow and hesitant, but Harry gave in to his urge to comfort and soothe. He gathered the silent boy together and slid his arms around him. A gentle embrace first, then Harry wrapped them around firmly, unintentionally trapping Draco. The boy in his arms froze abruptly and the raven-haired boy was afraid that he had done something wrong, but Draco continued to remain motionless. Both encouraged and disheartened by this, Harry pressed his body closer to the smaller boy, wondering vaguely why he had grown throughout the years but Draco had not.

The close contact with Draco was by far the most intimate thing Harry had done with anyone. He had kissed Cho many times before, but none of it was as real as what this was, none of it even came close to what this made him feel. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he was asking himself if this was just to comfort Draco or to satisfy himself too and as he reached one hand up to stroke the platinum strands of Draco's hair, he knew the answer.

Harry was on the verge of bringing things to a whole new level with his former enemy, but he was uncertain of how to proceed and he didn't want to frighten Draco. He inhaled the scent of Draco deeply, wanting to memorize that smell of lavender. All this time, Draco had remained strangely quiet, but his sudden whisper shocked Harry. "Don't do this to me please, it hurts."

Harry was confused. "I didn't hold you too tightly, did I?"

Draco shook his head gently, "It's the gesture. You think what you're doing is kind, but it's not. You're hurting me more than you will ever know. Please."

Harry was reluctant to let the blonde boy go. "I know this probably isn't a good time, but I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it for myself." He hesitated for a while before saying the next part. "I want this. I've wanted this for so long, I just didn't realize it." The smaller boy's eyes widened in amazement and he whipped his head up suddenly to glance at Harry.

The Gryffindor could see the confusion and uncertainty in those orbs; he also saw what he sorely missed: a tiny spark of fire within the swirls of the misty grey. However, it was only for a moment before he dropped his head again and said harshly, "I'm not your toy, Potter. Don't say things unless you mean it."

Harry wanted to protest, but his brain had a better idea. He ignored the fact that he might end up hurting Draco further and gripped the boy violently. Before Draco had any chance to react at all, Harry had brought his lips down upon the other boy. He closed them fiercely over Draco's soft pink lips and tried to communicate what words could not do for him. It was an angry and bitter kiss, harsh enough to bruise, but Harry was past caring, because Draco had to see his point, he just had to.

By this time, Harry was already far too absorbed in his own world to notice that Draco had placed his hands tentatively at the sides of his waist. He only realized and produced a small gasp of surprise when he felt Draco opening his mouth slightly in response to Harry. Being the Slytherin he was, Draco took advantage of that and slipped his tongue inside Harry's mouth. Harry's breathing faltered, but not for too long. He tilted his head downwards to fit Draco as his lips parted just a bit more. The kiss had changed its rhythm some time in between and Harry took one hand to cup Draco's cheek and the other to bury deep inside the blonde hair. At that tender gesture, Draco made a longing sort of sigh from the back of his throat involuntarily. Encouraged by this, Harry pressed his lips closer to Draco's and his tongue sought after the sweet flavour of Draco's mouth. Their tongues collided in between them and battled hotly, just like everything they used to fight with each other about.

Harry should have known it was too good to last.

Draco pulled away abruptly, shock and fear clearly displayed on his face. "I... I... Father... Sorry... I..." he stuttered incoherently, his entire body shook like a leaf again. "I didn't know... I'm sorry... Sorry..." Harry could tell Draco was having trouble breathing, his chest heaved up and down in an erotic pattern and one of his hands was clutching at his chest as if it was hurting him.

"Draco," Harry said dismayed. "Calm down. You're hyperventilating." He rushed to the blonde's side and held him still, softly stroking him until the tremors had subsided and the Slytherin was well enough to speak again.

"I... My father, he will kill me. It's a mistake. You have to go. I'm sorry. " The hysterical boy seemed hardly aware that he was rambling, let alone the fact that he had just apologized to his Gryffindor enemy for six years.

Harry shook his head. "No, I won't let anyone harm you. You're safe with me. Always."

The blonde boy looked up at Harry uncertainly. "No. You don't understand. I'm a Malfoy. You're Harry Potter. I can't-"

The raven-haired boy next to him silenced him by pressing a finger onto the quivering lips. "Hush. You're no longer a Malfoy in my eyes, you've become Draco. I'm sorry for not noticing that earlier, it would have saved you so much pain."

Draco's shaking subsided just that little bit when Harry entwined his arms around him again, but he was not ready to forget everything yet. "My father. Voldemort. Your parents. How can you? There's nothing for us. I don't want something that doesn't lasts."

Harry paused briefly to think. "Your father and Voldemort won't have a chance to get to you with me around, but it will be up to you, I want you to choose for yourself." Harry raised his hand to stop Draco from protesting. "You don't have to do it now. I'm quite contented to enjoy what time we have together for now." He flashed a tiny smile at Draco.

Draco looked down onto the floor and seemed to be searching for the thousand and one reasons that their relationship could go wrong. He found it apparently, because he raised his head and said grimly. "Granger and Weasley."

The Gryffindor frowned at Draco's refusal to forget their problems even for a minute. "I don't care, Draco. I don't understand you, why are you so unsure of yourself?"

The blonde separated himself from Harry once again and Harry immediately missed the contact. The silver orbs that were his eyes unfocused for a while and he whispered so softly that Harry had to strain his ears to hear him. "I don't think I could stand losing you. If I have to, I'd rather not have loved you at all." Harry almost missed the tear that Draco hastily brushed away. Almost.

It was probably the umpteenth time that Draco had managed to render Harry speechless that night. Harry said disbelievingly, "You... loved me?"

The silver orbs bore right into Harry's very soul and said. "Not loved, it's still love." Harry felt a unique sensation course through his veins. It was a mixture of realization, fear and ecstasy. Although why he was feeling all of those things, his brain was too fuddled to figure out. It was still stuck at the point where he had heard Draco utter the word love. Draco actually loves him?

Harry would have remained in his state of shock if Draco had not decided that Harry's lack of response was something out of shock and disgust. "Forget it Potter," he muttered. "Forget I ever said anything. I don't know what I was doing, telling you this, I could have kept it for another few months, we're going to graduate then." His voice got louder as he continued and he totally seemed to ignore Harry's presence. "I could have, I've already kept it for so many years."

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "Draco, don't be like this, I'm just... surprised. How long has it been?"

The blonde boy avoided Harry's eyes. "After your first task."

Harry's expression of surprise deepened further. "But you... you still..." He didn't know how to find the words to say what he wanted to.

Draco gave a mirthless laugh. "Of course I still insult you and your pathetic friends. You don't expect me to take it lying down when I get insulted just for your sake. This cycle never ends and it all started with a handshake." He shook his head slowly.

"A handshake?" Harry questioned.

"Yes." Draco's expression hardened. "The one you blatantly rejected when offered so willingly to you, all for the sake of a Weasley."

Harry felt defensive. "You were insulting Ron's family!"

"He made fun of my name first."

"But...." Harry had not realized that.

"Forget it." Draco turned to leave.

"Draco!" Harry called out. He rushed to the blonde boy and brought him into a searing kiss again, this time just as intoxicating as before. He mouthed against Draco's lips. "Don't leave me. I don't like that feeling."

"Harry...." Draco seemed at a lost for words. Instead, he hugged the bigger boy tightly, as if he never wanted to part from Harry, and in a way, this was true.

***

Somewhere above the grounds, a wise old man stood watching with his blues eyes twinkling. "It seems we have gained another powerful ally, Severus."

Professor Snape said, "I still don't see how this is a good thing for Draco. We're putting him at a lot of risk if we are going to carry out what we have planned for him. Would Potter allow it?"

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "No, Harry wouldn't allow it, but Draco would persuade him into it. He would do anything if he believes it would help Harry."

Severus snorted. "A terribly weak point, in my opinion. That boy deserves better than Potter."

"If love is a weakness, then all man will never be strong. It is love that gives us strength we never knew we possessed. Particularly in protecting our loved ones."

The two older men looked down at where the younger boys stood.

Severus muttered quietly, "I hope this turns out well, Albus."

Dumbledore nodded grimly. "Yes, so do I, so do I."