Until Death

Until Death

Part Five

Draco continued to seethe with the pain of the memory, when Harry bent down to sit next to him, something he had never done before. He patted Draco's back sympathetically. He did not know what else to do. He was beginning to feel sorry for Draco. "Draco...err, Malfoy...do you want to tell me what's wrong?" Harry asked sympathetically. He did not know how to ask an enemy to care for them before. It was quite difficult. God only knew what convinced Harry to care for Draco at the moment. Draco gathered up his nerve and sat up. His silvery eyes were a little red from holding the tears back, and his face was still pink from his struggle to restrain the memory. He slapped himself, right in front of Harry for loosing himself. "Why did you just do that? I would have gladly done it for you!" It seemed like only at that moment did Draco realize Harry was there, by his side, showing he actually showed some concern for him. Draco had feelings for Harry, but now they were reinforced for the better. Now there was some hope that Harry might change his mind about him.

"It's none of your concern, Potter. I've been handling this since my mother died," Draco bit his lip and closed his eyes. He had never told anyone about that until now. "You didn't need to know that. I should not have said that."

"Said what? That your mother died? How long ago?"

"I already told you, Potter, it's none of your bloody concern!" Draco said angrily. He brushed Harry's hand briskly off his shoulder and stood up. His hair was now falling over his forehead and ears, ever so gently, even though it was all messed up. Harry looked at him as he stood up. "Now leave me be or I am seriously going to hex you!"

"For what? Showing you concern?!"

"For asking too many goddamn questions! That's what!"

"I did not ask that many questions, Malfoy! I was showing concern for you! This will be the last time I ever care for you again!"

"So be it! I couldn't give a shit less about your concern anyways! You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine. Don't you dare come near me while the time we are here, or I'll hex you so bad, it will make your parents turn in their graves!"

"Don't you dare talk about my parents, Malfoy."

"What happens if I do? Oh, is the great Harry Potter too sensitive on the subject still?"

"Sensitive? What about that scene you just did? Sensitive. Me?" Harry laughed mirthlessly. "You can't handle anything! If you were to see what I had been through-"

"What you have been through? Ha! You haven't gone through years and years of torture by your own kin, have you? You have never even seen true darkness, have you, Potter? So, don't you dare say to me you have it worse than I do. For I ensure you that I do."

"Torture by your own kin?" Harry repeated, ignoring what Draco had just said. Draco hit his forehead.

"Once again something you should not have stuck your nose into. Damn you, Potter."

"Damn yourself, Draco." Draco turned to glare at Harry with anger flaring in his eyes. Nobody addressed Draco Malfoy so informally... not even by the person he loved.

"Don't you ever address me so personally, Potter. We are not friends. State that and take note of it, for the Spirits will surely save a place in Hell for you if you don't." Draco opened the door to the outside and slammed it in Harry's face. Harry had nothing but anger reserved in his soul for Draco. At one moment before they just fought, he saw Draco's eyes, leading him to a path of perfection... no. No fucking way that was going to happen. Harry turned away from the door and continued his search for food. But he couldn't help but wonder why Draco was so sensitive, and why he had a pang of...no. Not for Draco. Impossible. He ignored these thoughts and busied himself with the ongoing search for food.

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He did it again. He had a chance to tell Harry everything, but he pulverized it into the floor. He hated himself for that. Every single chance he had, he crushed it. He collapsed into the snow and put his hands to his face. Why was this happening? Why had he been cursed this way? He never let his feelings out until now. He was not allowed to. He was prohibited, refrained, restricted from feelings. What he just did, that scene on the floor, and the fight, he did not know where that came from. So many years of built up emotions that never get let out, finally explode when the top is opened. As his warm tears hit the ground, the snow around it became grey... a liquid grey as it melted. As Draco looked around him, he remembered what Harry had said earlier... about a grey liquid pool of tears being shed by a ghost. He put his fingers in the liquid and took some out. It was not as liquid as he thought. In fact, it felt like ice-cold steel that had just formed around his fingers. He remembered something his father once said: "A Malfoy's heart is like ice-cold steal. Mud-bloods are unacceptable as well as half-breeds and-" blah blah blah. The same thing over and over...he got so sick of it.

He got up, with one hand covered in the grey liquid, and he took the other hand and punched it into a tree. The anger from everything was swelling inside of him. He felt like he needed to kill someone to get rid of all the anger that was boiling over, boiling over from all the years, all the memories, all the torture. He withdrew his hand from the tree. He looked at the bleeding hand and tried to clench his fist. He bit his lip in pain and took a deep breath of the cold air. The tears started swelling, but then he felt good, having pain inflicted, having some of the energy rid from his body. He stuck his hand in the snow, to rid him of the stinging effect of the punch. When he withdrew his hand from the snow, the snow was stained with red and there were splinters stuck in Draco's knuckles. He tried to flex his hand again, but it just felt worse. God damnit. I must have broken something. His shoulder-length usually slicked-back hair was in his face. He blew at a strand of it, which shifted a little to the side. But as he stood there, trying to blow the strand of hair aside, he heard breaking of twigs and rustling of dead branches still clinging to the trees for life in the depths of this cold winter. Oh, shit. Draco said the enemy-sighting spell and he felt gigantic bodies, not far, maybe within a hundred feet, coming in their direction. Draco raced inside the shack and shut the door.

"What the hell is wrong with you, you psychotic idiot?" Harry said with disgust in his voice. Draco replied, out of breath, his hand still hurting from his encounter with the tree.

"They're... coming...."

"Who?"

"Death... Eaters...." He replied and put his bloody hand to his chest, trying to catch his breath. He looked out the window, to see if anybody was racing towards them. Harry was not looking for Death Eaters at all. He could not tear his eyes away from Draco's hand. The hand was covered in blood, as some was dripping on the floor.

"Uuuuhhh... Malfoy, are you aware of the fact that your hand is bleeding all over the floor?" Harry asked. Draco did not answer. He was much too engrossed about the presence of Death Eaters threatening their lives to care to respond. "Malfoy, did you hear me?"

"Shut the hell up, Potter!" Draco demanded as he looked out the window. "I thought we got rid of these morons."

"What are you talking about?"

"Damnit, Potter, get down on the floor and shut up! Death Eaters are coming, you idiot!" Harry looked at him with skepticism. "Don't look at me like that! What do you want me to do? Go out there and take a bloody picture? Just do as I say!" Harry saw a man arrive out of the forest, cloaked, and dressed in black. Harry could not believe Draco was telling him the truth. "GET DOWN!" he whispered, demanding him. Harry did it without anymore refusing. Draco stood behind the door, his bloody hand still clutched to his chest. As the blood continued to drop to the floor, Draco remembered his previous act. Oh, shit...the blood!! They'll know we're here for sure! Draco closed his eyes, hoping they would not find the gigantic red spot in the snow. Who was he kidding? Of course they would find it! But he did not loose hope that they would forget about it and continue on their way. Damn Death Eaters. Damn Voldemort, if he wasn't already. One of the wizards were only inches away from the window, when they heard one of the Death Eaters shouting at him not to look there, because it was haunted and played tricks on a wizard's eyes. The wizard turned away, acknowledging what the leader had just said. They decided to split up again.

"I am not about to give up on playing a little game of hide and seek with these children. We will continue to search. Split up. We will meet at Wanderer's Point at dark."

"At the park?"

"You are the dumbest person I know, Quintilan. I said at dark. Would somebody give this idiot some anti-moron lessons while we're looking? My God." Draco turned his head a slant to look out the window for any remainders. He saw a short man dressed in the cloaks of the Death Eaters lagging behind. Suddenly, he perked his head up in which Draco was looking. Draco gasped and covered his mouth with his bloody hand. He closed his eyes again and tried to control the level of his fear.

"Damnit, Charlenet! Move your ass or loose it!" The short man walked faster and disappeared from view. Draco melted on the floor, from the relief that they did not find them. Wait a minute...how come they didn't see the blood? Draco looked out the window, thinking that he would see a red spot on the snow. When he looked out, he saw nothing in the snow. He began to wonder what was going on. Why was there no spot in the snow? It wasn't like he wasn't glad that they didn't see it, but he thought for sure they would see it.

"Are they gone?" Harry whispered.

"Yes, but we cannot move or speak much for they will most likely hear us," Draco whispered back.

"Their hearing is that good?"

"No, but their leader's is."

"How?"

"Most Death Eaters may be hopeless idiots, but the leaders are there for a reason. They have been hand picked and given powers by Voldemort himself to aid in hunting people down. Their senses are heightened three times as a normal person."

"How do you know this?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"None of your business, Potter. Have you found any food yet? I'm guessing it is past mid-afternoon," Draco said as he got off of the floor and changed the subject to keep a fight from breaking out again. Harry decided to go along with it. With Death Eaters still roaming the woods in a close range, nobody needed to die.

"No. All that I found were a lot of herbs." Suddenly a green shot flew threw the window and hit Draco straight in the back. Harry jumped as he saw Draco's eyes roll back and fell face first on the floor. He laid motionless on the floor.

"DAMNIT, QUINTILAN!! I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE THAT HOUSE ALONE!! NOW MOVE!!!" was all Harry heard after Draco had been shot. He ran over to Draco and tried to shake him awake. He did not move. Harry checked for signs of breathing. He heard Draco's breath, but it was faint. Harry dragged Draco to the other end of the shack and propped him up against the walls. Draco kept leaning off to the side.

"Damnit, Draco! Stop leaning over!" Harry whispered desperately. He had to put a large box on Draco's side to keep him from falling over. Harry thought he would just leave him like that, but he looked at Draco's bloody hand. That changed his mind completely. He felt pity for Draco. He didn't know why his hand was so bloody, but really he didn't feel like knowing. "I don't know what you did to yourself, but I'll fix your hand for you, you stupid idiot." Harry whispered and he kneeled to Draco. He took off his robes to reveal a white shirt he was wearing under his sweater Mrs. Weasley made him. He tore off the bottom of his white shirt to make a bandage. He then wrapped it around Draco's hand. He would have used Draco's robes, but he knew about blood poisoning and decided he needed Draco's knowledge of Death Eaters to stay alive. Plus, he didn't feel like stripping Draco down to his undershirt...if he had one.

Harry put back on his robes and such and walked away from Draco. He was not about to wake him. The more Draco slept, the more bearable this would be. He continued on his search for food throughout the desolate, ramshackle cabin. Every now and then, though, he couldn't help but see if Draco was awake, seeing if he was still breathing. He would check every now and then to make sure he was still alive as well. Harry did not know why he even cared so much. In fact, he couldn't care less if that bloody git was in pain. But as he looked to Draco... he couldn't help but care. He was so defenseless, helpless. What could Draco do right now? Nothing. Shut up, Harry. It's nothing but pity. Pure pity for an enemy. He continued his search, trying to convince himself to not care for Draco...but so far... it wasn't working.

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'As I sit here and slowly close my eyes, I take another deep breath and feel the wind pass through my body. I'm the one in your soul, reflecting in the light, protect the ones who hold you, cradling your inner child. I need serenity in a place where I can hide. I need serenity. Nothing changes days go by...Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing and when will we learn to control?'

The mother that has gone has not returned. To never return. Never surprised. The everlasting father's words to never leave the side of another. Just be still in the presence of a shadow. Dare not to speak to one unless inviting it to take your soul. The holes remain as the thoughts remain. Just be still, be waiting, be still in the dark. Move and they will hear. Speak and they will hear. Death waits, waits to take the body by the flames of the Angel of Death. Short lived, long death. Love...exist? Not truly. Sympathy? Maybe. Apologies one. Change two. Death three. Heart, mind, soul. Worst news...