The Cloak of Shadows

Harry lay in a heap on the ground, Draco's cloak over his head, surrounded by a massive pile of garbage. He wrinkled his nose as Draco stacked trash around him, shoving a particularly pungent heap in front of Harry's face.

"Gah! What are you trying to do, hide me or help them find me? They can smell me a mile off!"

"Shh!" said Draco, pushing more of the garbage toward him. "Just trust me."

"Why should I?" Harry asked, peeking out from under the cloak. Draco arched on platinum brow at him.

"Gee, I don't know Potter. Perhaps because you just snogged me in an abandoned alleyway?" Harry opened his mouth indignantly, but found he didn't have anything to say. "Now stay quiet, and don't move out from under that cloak until you're sure they're gone."

The voices of Lucius Malfoy and his cohorts got closer, and Harry burrowed beneath the cloak, wondering where Draco was going to hide. The men turned down the side street, and in just a moment, they would be able to see Harry, lying in plain view at the end of the alley.

"You said you thought you saw him come this way, boss?" said a voice.

"Yes," said Lucius Malfoy. "He ducked onto a side street, somewhere in this vicinity."

"What will we do with him when we find him?" came the third voice.

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps have tea with him." Harry had to smile. It was obvious where Draco got his sarcastic wit. "You dunce, what do you think we'll do with him?"

"Um... take him to our Master?"

The voices were practically upon Harry now. He felt a shiver of fear run through his stomach.

"Very good, Crabbe. He should be right down here." Harry sucked in a breath as he prepared for the men to discover him.

There was a pause as the men walked down the alley. Then Harry heard Crabbe's voice.

"There's nothing here but a pile of trash and an old alley cat."

"Yes, I see that, thank you Crabbe," Lucius spat out. "Where could he have got to?" Crabbe didn't seem to have an answer for this. Harry ventured a look out from between the folds of Draco's cloak. He couldn't see the boy anywhere, only a patch of dark fur near his chest. Harry froze. It was the black cat from Hogwarts, the one with whom Harry had shared all his innermost secrets.

But that's impossible, he thought. How could he get all the way to Hogsmeade? And how did he find me? And where on earth is Draco?

Harry was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't even hear Lucius and the other men turn and walk out of the alley. It wasn't until he felt a wet, velvety nose on his face that he even realized they were gone. Harry threw off the cloak and looked around, trying to find Draco. The black cat looked at him coolly for a moment, and then began to transform.

Suddenly, the attractive blonde boy was standing in front of him, grinning wickedly at him. "Well, that was close, wasn't it Potter? Come on, we'd better go find a professor." He grabbed Harry's arm and attempted to pull him up, but Harry didn't budge. "Oof, come on you lump, I don't want to hang around here any longer than I have to."

"You're the cat," Harry said in a low voice. Draco stopped tugging and smiled down at him.

"Well, yes. I was going to tell you, sooner or later. I suppose it ended up being sooner." Harry did not return his grin.

"I can't believe you would keep that from me," he said, in the same quiet voice. Draco found it very disconcerting.

"Well, Potter, it wasn't as if we were the best of friends, before today, now was it?" He attempted a lighthearted laugh, but it died under Harry's cold gaze.

"I told you everything. I told you everything I was afraid of, every insecurity," Harry's voice began rise, sounding more hysterical as he went on. "And you - you betrayed me. How could you do that to me? How could you listen to all that and still treat me the way you did? What are you playing at, Malfoy? Is this all some sort of game?"

Draco could only stare helplessly at him, stunned by the accusations. "Harry, I didn't realize -"

"Don't call me Harry."

There was a flicker of hurt in Draco's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by his typical icy glare. "Fine then, Potter. Have it your way. I for one couldn't have cared less what you blathered on about during your pathetic little ramblings. As far as I'm concerned, it never. Even. Happened." Saying this, Draco turned on his heel and began to walk off, but Harry quickly grabbed him and pulled him back.

"This isn't over Malfoy. I want you to swear to me you won't tell anyone what has happened between us. Not the conversations, not anything. And especially not the -"

"The boggart?" Harry winced. He had almost managed to forget about the boggart, but now his shame came flooding back, coloring his cheeks.

Draco's faced softened a bit, and his voice was gentler when he spoke. "Look, I'm not going to say anything about that. Don't you think it confuses me too? I'm supposed to be fighting for the Light now, but if I'm your worst fear, what can that mean?"

Harry grew even redder. "That's not exactly what I was talking about Malfoy."

"What then?"

"I was talking about... about the..."

"The fact that you couldn't keep your ruddy paws off of me?" Malfoy finished, his voice bitter. "Don't worry Potter, I wouldn't dare tarnish your golden reputation by letting everyone know that The Boy Who Lived is a-" He never got to finish his sentence. Harry had closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, shoving the Slytherin to the ground, pinning his arms to his sides.

"Get off me!" Draco shouted, his voice muffled under Harry's chest. He struggled wildly, but Harry was quite strong for someone as small as he was.

"No! I hate you Malfoy! How dare you -"

"How dare I what, Potter?" Draco snarled, getting control over Harry and flipping him to the ground. "How dare I cause you to feel more than you have in six years? Is that what it is?"

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

"Why? Because you've finally opened up to someone, and you can't stand it?" Draco emphasized his words by pounding Harry further into the ground with each syllable.

"No," Harry gasped, trying to wriggle out of the other boy's grip.

"Or because that someone is me?" Draco spat this out with the greatest contempt. Shoving Harry into the dirt one last time for good measure, Draco backed away and sat against the brick wall, breathing raggedly.

Harry leaned against the opposite wall, also struggling to catch his breath. After a long silence, he spoke. "What changed?" he asked quietly. Draco didn't stir, and for a moment Harry thought he hadn't heard. Finally, he spoke, just as quietly.

"I don't know. I thought I hated you. I thought that no matter what side I was on, I would never fight along with you. I still don't know how I feel."

"But then why did you...?"

"For Merlin's sake Harry, I don't know!" Draco ran a hand through his mussed hair. "Do you think this makes any more sense to me than it does to you?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said, lowering his eyes to the ground. He couldn't bear to look Draco in the face. Whether it was out of embarrassment or something else, he didn't know. "I'm not sure of anything anymore."

"Look, I know how you-"

Harry's eyes snapped up suddenly and he cut the boy off. "Don't you presume to know me Malfoy. You know nothing about me."

Draco narrowed his eyes, which were gleaming silver in the fading afternoon light. "Is that so, Potter? Well, I'll tell you what I know about you. I know that you are a boring, insufferable git. I know that your middle name is James, after your father. I know that you're happy for Weasley and Granger, but worried you won't find anyone yourself to care for that way. I know you respect Sirius Black more than anyone else, except maybe Dumbledore. I know that your greatest fear used to be the Dementors, but now for some reason it's me." Draco's voice grew high-pitched, and he continued in a great rush. "I know that your skin tastes like vanilla, and that when you say my name, your eyes turn a darker shade of green." Here, Draco made a small strangling noise, as though he couldn't finish what he was saying. "I know," he said, sucking in a breath, "that for six years I have been completely numb to everything surrounding me, except for when you're there. So don't tell me that I don't know you."

Draco leaned heavily against the wall, shutting his eyes tight and looking for all the world as though he wished he could fall through the ground. Harry watched him with wide, confused eyes, not knowing what to make of his outburst.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, finally.

"For what?" Draco said harshly.

"I'm sorry that you don't... that you can't... that you said you don't feel any emotion except when I'm there," he finished in a rush. Draco smirked coldly.

"If you've seen the things I've seen, Potter, you learn quickly not to feel anything. It's a matter of survival. And sanity," he said quietly.

"What things have you seen?" asked Harry, just as quietly. He had been wondering the whole week exactly what had happened to make Draco want to change sides.

"It doesn't matter now, Potter," Draco said with a bitter laugh. "Just let it suffice to say that I've changed my mind. I saw where the other path leads, and I want nothing to do with it. I'll not spend the rest of my life kowtowing to some reptile in wizard's robes." His mouth twisted in distaste as he spoke of Voldemort.

"But if you're a spy-"

"Yes, yes," Draco said dismissively, waving a hand. "I can play the part beautifully. Bowing and simpering and looking as though I give a damn what that shriveled up old has-been thinks of me. Don't look so scandalized Potter, you hate him as much as I do."

"Y-yes," Harry said, his mouth slightly agape. "But what I don't know is why you hate him. Up until a week ago, I assumed you were one of his followers."

"The sins of the father..." Draco murmured softly.

"What?"

"My father. Everyone assumes that because my father is a death eater, I'll just naturally follow in his footsteps. Well, I've seen what my father has become since taking the dark mark - he's a monster, just like Voldemort."

Harry's eyes widened at Draco saying the Dark Lord's name. "Is that why you hate him?" he said gently. "Because of what he's done to your father?"

"Among other things," said Draco, glaring at the dirt. "My father used to hug me, when I was very young. He hasn't done that since taking the mark. I remember him bringing home presents - not pricey, meaningless things like the Nimbus 2001's, but real gifts, with real meaning behind them. He always used to bring me dragons." Draco smiled sadly as he said this. "They were his favorite animals - powerful and noble. That's why he named me after them. I remember my mother smiling. She used to smile all the time before my father took the mark. And not that fake smile she plasters on when we go out in public - a real one. You know, she's really beautiful when she smiles."

"I'm sure she is," said Harry, wishing he could reach out to Draco. He knew the other boy would never allow it. Harry understood his pain - he understood what it was like to lose someone you cared about to the Dark Lord. Feeling anger swell inside him, he gave Draco a hard look.

"We'll get him Malfoy. I know we will. We won't let him do this to any more families." Draco looked surprised at Harry's vehemence.

"Yes. I think we will. When I first decided to fight for the Light, I wondered if I had finally lost my mind. But now I think we have all the determination we need to win against Voldemort." He looked carefully at Harry. "Maybe even more."

Smiling wryly, Harry stuck out his hand. "Truce?" Draco looked uncertain.

"Harry, about what happened earlier..."

"Forget about it. We were both under a lot of stress. It could have happened to anyone. Just forget it," he said again. Draco didn't say anything for what seemed like an eternity.

"What if I don't want to forget about it?" he whispered. Harry looked confused and dropped his outstretched hand.

"What do you mean?"

"You remember what I said, about only feeling things when you're around?" Harry nodded dumbly. "Well, what happened a few minutes ago, that's the most real thing I've felt I think in my whole life. I didn't want it to happen. Part of me wishes it hadn't. But it did, and we can't take it back now. Do you want to go back Harry? Do you want us to be enemies again?"

Harry shook his head, a frown creasing his forehead. "I-I don't know," he said finally. "Can't we try to be friends? Learn to trust each other the way Dumbledore wants us to?"

Draco's eyes hardened and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Fine, Potter. Have it your way," he said coldly.

Harry sighed in frustration. "Merlin Malfoy!" he shouted, opting to use the other boy's surname. "Draco" was just too familiar for the likes of this conversation. "Does it always have to be all or nothing with you? No, I don't want us to hate each other again, of course not. But what happened before - I'm not ready for that. And neither are you." Draco opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off by Harry. "You said yourself part of you wishes it had never happened. Well, let's pretend it didn't. Let's just try to be friends, and go from there." Draco was still staring sullenly at the ground, but after a moment he raised his eyes to meet Harry's.

"You're right," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I don't know what I was thinking. You and I can never be anything to one another. Let's just pretend it never happened." Saying this, Draco got to his feet and began to walk out of the alley.

"Malfoy, wait!" shouted Harry after him. The blonde boy didn't hesitate, but kept walking resolutely ahead. Harry sprang to his feet and ran after him, catching up with him as they reached the street. Harry grabbed Draco's arm and began to spin him around, but just then a familiar voice spoke up right in front of them.

"Potter! Malfoy! What on earth are you doing here?" It was Professor McGonagall, looking quite put out. Sirius was behind her, a stunned look on his face, seeing the two boys together.

"Professor-" both boys began, but they were silenced by her steely glance.

"I have just been made aware that Lucius Malfoy and two of his associates are at this moment combing Hogsmeade, searching for you, Mr. Potter."

"Professor McGonagall," began Draco, keeping his voice calm. "We were on our way to tell you. You see, Potter and I were in the alley when my father and his friends came looking for us. Fortunately, we were able to hide-"

"Yes," said McGonagall, cutting him off. "I am well aware that you were able to 'hide' from Lucius. I overheard him talking with Crabbe in the Three Broomsticks. He seemed quite mystified that while they had heard the two of you speaking only moments before, once they entered the alleyway, they found nothing but a pile of trash and a black cat." She flicked her eyes to Draco as she said this. He seemed to shrink just a bit under her gaze.

Sirius stepped up behind Professor McGonagall. "Honestly Harry, what were you thinking? Wondering off alone like that - it's a wonder you weren't killed. And we wouldn't have known where you were, or what happened to you -" he broke off, his voice shaking slightly. Sirius was letting the godfather in him take over, and it was making him emotional.

"I'm sorry Sirius," said Harry. He didn't know what else to say. I'm sorry Sirius, but I just had to wonder off into a deserted alleyway to get a snog with my most hated enemy. I'm sure you understand... don't you? That would go over well, Harry was sure.

"Well, sorry isn't quite good enough," said McGonagall, still seething with anger. "And you," she said, pointing a finger at Draco, "what came over you, to make you think it was safe to transform in front of your father? Everything we've been working towards could have been ruined. What if he'd recognized you? What if you're stationed at the Manor as a spy, and he can't help but think there's something familiar about that black cat? The both of you have been very irresponsible today, and we are quite disappointed in you. From here on out, you will not leave the school without being accompanied by Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. You are never to wander off the school grounds, and if I catch either of you out of your room after dark, you will spend a week scrubbing every toilet in the castle. Is that understood?"

Both boys nodded yes and stared at the ground, wishing it would swallow them up. Harry ventured a glance at Draco, and saw that his cheeks were pink with embarrassment or anger. It made him look rather fetching. Harry gritted his teeth and warned himself to stop thinking such thoughts about Malfoy, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult.

McGonagall and Sirius led them out of the alley and back into the town square, where a very worried-looking group was waiting for them. Ron slapped Harry on the back, and Hermione scolded them both. Crabbe seemed to be beside himself, which Harry thought was an odd reaction. Goyle stayed quiet, but walked closely behind Draco the entire way back to the castle.

The two boys never looked at each other, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little guilty over treating Malfoy the way he had. He was just starting to open up, and I had to go and muck it all up, he though morosely, kicking the ground. They reached the castle as the last ray of sun broke over the ground, and each headed silently to their rooms. Harry sat quietly in his bed until Draco emerged from the bathroom. He tried to make eye contact with the other boy, but Draco was apparently not interested in conversation. Without making a sound, Draco went to his bed and drew the curtains, never giving Harry a second glance. Sighing, Harry extinguished the lights and fell back in his bed, wondering if he could perform an Obliviate curse on himself, so he could forget the whole awful day. A niggling voice at the back of his mind whispered, Are you sure you want to?

***

"I am very disappointed in you Lucius," hissed a low, raspy voice. The two men, if the other one could be called that, sat in an abandoned house outside Hogsmeade, a fire blazing in front of them.

"I am sorry, my lord. We tried to find them, but -"

"But you were outsmarted by a couple of teenage boys," he snapped, silencing the other man.

"Yes," Lucius said, placating. "It was a mistake on my part, my lord, and I am truly sorry."

"Bow," hissed Voldemort, gripping Lucius' arm tightly. Lucius fell quickly to his knees, lowered his forehead to the floor, and kissed the hem of the velvet robes. "That is better," he said. "You may stand."

Lucius rose slowly to his feet, keeping his head bowed. "My lord, if I may say, I have no doubts our next attempt will be successful. If I can just get rid of the boy-"

"Your son?"

"Yes," Lucius said, distastefully. "Though I stopped thinking of him as such a long time ago. If I am permitted to kill him, I feel our way to Potter will be free of one more obstruction."

Voldemort pondered this for a moment, then spoke. "You believe he and Potter are no longer enemies?"

"I am not sure, my lord. I know that Dumbledore has roomed them together, hoping they will put aside past animosity. All I know is that my son is no longer on our side."

"Do not kill him yet," said Voldemort. "We may still be able to convince him to return to us. I can be very... persuasive, if I need to be. And if, as you say, he and Potter become close, we can use him to lure Potter to us. No Lucius, spare your son a while longer, he may prove to be Potter's downfall after all."