Decreso Aetas

Decreso Aetas

Chapter 10: Pain

- - -

One week later

The portrait entrance of the Gryffindor common room banged open as Ginny rushed inside. She instantly made her way over to Ron and Hermione, who were seated at a table by the fireplace, talking quietly. They both looked up as the younger redhead stopped next to their table.

"You will not believe what I just heard," Ginny said quietly as she pulled up an extra chair and sat down. Hermione raised an eyebrow, silently indicating for her to go on. "Well, my friends and I were walking out of the Potions when we passed a small group of Slytherins," she began. "As we were walking by, we overheard one of them say something about a seventh year named Pansy Parkinson. Do you know her?"

"Yes," Hermione said, disdain clearly heard in her voice. "She's the pug-faced Slytherin who can never keep her mouth shut and that no one can stand."

Ginny looked at her in shock, having never really heard her put anyone down, before continuing. "It was something about her going to Malfoy's dormitory a while back. Apparently he flipped out at her and struck her across the face. But that's not what this is about," Ginny added quickly when she noticed their faces. "They said that Parkinson told them that Harry and Malfoy aren't really sick at all, but they're both staying in Malfoy's dormitory. How crazy is that?"

She stopped to take a breath, looking between the two older Gryffindors. Their frightened expressions caused her smile to melt away.

"What's wrong?"

Ginny then noticed the look that the two shared.

"What's going on?" she asked. Her eyes then widened, a hand flying to her mouth before she squealed, "He's not gay, is he?"

Ron, caught by surprise, lost his balance, causing the chair and himself to fall backwards. His face turned a bright shade of red with embarrassment as many students looked curiously in their direction. He righted his chair and sat down quickly before turning to glare at Ginny.

Trying to hide a smile, Hermione quickly glanced at Ron before her gaze settled on Ginny.

"No, he isn't," she replied quietly. "He probably would have said something, or we could have noticed." She then paused, her expression suddenly growing serious. "But there is something that we should probably tell you."

- - -

Draco was just finishing his Potions assignments when his eagle owl landed on his desk, scattering a few pieces of parchment. The blond untied the scroll from its leg and unrolled it. He skimmed the first few lines of the letter, and then almost dropped it in shock. His hands began to shake as he started from the beginning, making sure he hadn't misread.

Dear Draco,

I regret to inform you that your mother passed away earlier this morning. Throughout the previous weeks, others have noticed her health deteriorating. The mediwitches at Saint Mungo's failed to identify the illness in time and were unable to treat it. She was a great asset to the Malfoy name. She would want you to be strong. Please take care, Draco.

Sincerely,

Lucius Malfoy

Draco dropped his father's letter and slowly put his face in his shaking hands. He had always been pretty close to his mother, even closer than he had been to his father. He couldn't believe this was happening; he would just wake up and find out that this was just some horrible nightmare. But he knew it was no nightmare. His father would not have gone through so much trouble to send him a letter from Azkaban if it hadn't been important.

"Draco?"

The quiet voice caused him to jump; he had neither seen nor heard Harry coming over to him. The small Gryffindor was attempting to peel Draco's hands away from his face.

"What's wrong?"

The blond's hands fell to his lap and he leaned back in his chair. Draco closed his eyes, willing himself to disappear so he could escape from this madness. This could not be happening to him; he was growing attached to his temporarily five-year-old enemy and now his mother has just passed away. What next? Was the world as they knew it going to be taken over by mountain trolls? Draco almost fell backwards when he felt two small hands on either side of his face. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was a pair of emerald green eyes peering intently into his sharp grey ones.

"Nothing," Draco finally replied, righting his chair. The sudden movement and lack of support almost caused Harry to fall forward.

"You're lying," the Gryffindor said quietly, coming around to face Draco.

The blond was slightly taken aback; he was surprised by how well Harry could read him. Draco stood up and went to lie down on the couch, placing an arm over his eyes. He tensed when Harry climbed on top of him and curled up.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked once more.

Draco heaved a shaky sigh. He couldn't bring himself to say it; he knew that if he did, that would make it true. He would just have to pay the price, then.

"My..." Draco stopped himself, having suddenly lost his ability to speak. His throat felt constricted, not letting him finish the sentence. Doing his best to fight the emotions boiling inside of him, Draco choked out, "My -- my mother died." He felt Harry tense for a brief moment before a small pair of arms encircled his waist.

"My mum died, too," Harry said quietly, "I don't know how. In the dream, there was a lot of green light and -- and --" The small Gryffindor suddenly grew silent, but Draco could feel him shaking slightly.

"It's okay," the blond said, even though he knew it wasn't; inside, he was screaming. Disturbing, random thoughts began drifting through his mind, slowly transforming into fitful dreams. His breathing evened out and his was asleep within moments. Harry moved up and rested his head underneath Draco's chin.

"I love you, Draco."

- - -

"So -- so Harry is staying with Malfoy?" Ginny asked, her eyes growing wide. Her only response was a nod from Hermione, who had a tight grip on her wrist. "Okay, but what does that have to do with dragging me to the dungeons?"

"You'll see," Ron replied, a dark look crossing over his features. They turned down a corridor and stopped at a portrait of a silver dragon.

"Okay," Hermione said, turning to face the confused redhead. "What you will see will most likely surprise you. Be prepared for the worst," she added as she turned to knock on the portrait.

- - -

A knock on the portrait entrance caused Draco to jerk out of his light sleep. He fell to the floor in surprise, though he landed harder than he should have, seeing as how Harry had been lying on top of him. After untangling himself with the startled Gryffindor, he stood up and went to open the portrait. He inwardly groaned as Ron and Hermione stepped over the threshold.

"Wait!" Draco exclaimed as Ginny hurried in after them. "What is she doing here?" The two older Gryffindors ignored the blond as they walked over to where Harry was sitting on the floor. An audible gasp was heard from Ginny when she saw him.

"Is -- is that Harry?" she asked, kneeling down next to him.

"Yes, it is," Hermione replied. "But you have to listen to me. You cannot tell anyone about this. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but how?" the redhead pressed on.

"An accident in Charms," the brunette replied, giving Draco a pointed look.

"What? Oh..." Ginny looked between the two before her gaze settled on the blond. "Was Malfoy the one that -- ?"

Draco watched the scene unravel before him. He just couldn't take anymore of it. "That's it! What the hell do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed. "You can't just bring someone here and have them look at Harry like he's some caged animal. You heard Dumbledore. No one is supposed to know!"

The three Gryffindors looked at the blond incredulously, their jaws hanging open.

"Did you just call him -- ?" Ron began, but was cut off by Hermione, who was heading towards the piece of parchment lying on the floor.

"Is this another letter from Dumbledore?" she asked as she bent down to pick it up.

"No! Don't!" Draco gasped, trying to stop her before she read the letter, but it was too late. Hermione's hand flew up to her mouth as she dropped the parchment to the floor.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have --"

"You're damn right you shouldn't have!" Draco shouted, snatching the letter off of the floor. "You don't just go around reading other people's letters!" Draco's hands began shaking out of anger and his normally pale face took on a reddish tint.

"Look, she said she was sorry!" Ron exclaimed, standing up to defend Hermione. The tips of his ears were turning red; always a dangerous sign.

"You're one to talk!" the blond challenged. "You can't help but to stick your abnormally large nose in other people's business!"

Ron instantly put a hand to his nose, his eyes wide. "Is my nose really that --" He caught himself and glared at Draco. "You're such an insufferable prat!"

"Aww. Is that all you could think of?" Draco taunted, crossing his arms over his chest, his ever-familiar smirk plastered on his face. Harry was looking between Ron and Draco from his position on the floor, a frightened expression on his face.

"No, that's not all I can think of," Ron hissed under his breath as he began making his way over toward the arrogant blond. A look of pure and utter loathing was plastered on his freckled face.

"Ron!" Hermione hurried and quickly asserted herself between the two males, a pleading look in her eyes. "You can't do this. You know you can get yourself into big trouble!"

"Hermione," Ron said, a threatening tone in his voice, "if you don't move now, you'll end up getting hurt. You know I don't want that to happen."

"But Ron --"

"No 'buts,' Hermione," Ron snapped. "I've had more than I can take of him, and I can't stand it anymore." He moved her to the side as gently as he could and proceeded toward Draco.

As the redhead pulled back his fist, ready to plant it in the centre of Draco's face, something held him back. Turning around, he saw Hermione, who had her hands wrapped around his wrist.

"Ron, listen to me," she said quietly, "you can't do this. As much as I would love to see you pound him into the floor, we would all end up getting into a lot of trouble. Ginny especially, since she isn't even supposed to be here, let alone know about Harry. If anyone found out she knew, we'd all be dead within seconds." Ron couldn't help but to lower his arm; the look of pure desperation on her face softened him a bit.

"Fine," he growled, turning to send a death glare at Draco. "But one day soon, I'll find a way to get back at him." Oh, if looks could kill.

"Wait," Ginny said hurriedly, "can't we stay a little longer?" she cast a quick glance at Harry, who had his gaze set on the arrogant blond.

"No, you can't," Draco snapped, cutting in before either of the older Gryffindors could say anything in return, "I've had enough of this."

"Don't talk to my sister like that," Ron hissed through clenched teeth, his hands balled at his sides. Hermione took hold of his arm before he could shatter Draco's face, though she would have enjoyed watching it happen.

"Let's go," she said quietly, loosening her grip on his arm and turning to leave.

"Can't we just take him with us for a little while?" Ginny pressed on, trying to coax Harry into coming to sit with her.

"Sorry, Ginny," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "It would cause a whole mess of --"

"Trouble, yes," Draco finished, his face taking on a light reddish tinge. "We all know that. Now just -- get -- out." He began shaking in anger, his grey eyes glowing with suppressed hatred. Those Gryffindors were just so thick. Ginny, who was closest to him, stood up quickly and hurried toward the portrait.

"'Bye, Harry!" she called before it closed behind her. Hermione shared a look with Ron before walking over to Harry and giving him a hug.

"We'll see you later, Harry."

"'Bye, mate," Ron said. Before following Hermione, he stepped over toward Draco. "This isn't over." He gave the blond a look of clear disdain before walking out of the room.

Letting out a frustrated yell, Draco picked up a shoe and hurled it at the closed portrait. The resounding noise echoed repeatedly through his already aching head. Then, as if his knees had given out, he fell to the floor; he was shaking once more.

"Draco?" The quiet voice startled him somewhat; he had momentarily forgotten that Harry was there. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the blond snapped before turning away from the young Gryffindor.

"It's okay," Harry said, coming around to face Draco. "I miss my mum, too." He sat down in front of the Slytherin, a look of sadness making its way onto his face. Draco could have sworn that whenever Harry was emotional, his original, older self shone through, making him seem wise beyond his years.

"Sometimes I still feel like she's still here, like she's watching me," the small boy continued, his quiet voice cracking slightly. He looked down at his hands, a helpless look in his emerald eyes. "It's the same with my dad, too." The small Gryffindor's eyes then filled with tears.

Upon seeing this, Draco's barrier that separated him from the outside world crumbled. He moved closer and pulled the smaller boy closer to him.

"It's alright," Draco muttered quietly, his voice shaking slightly. "Maybe she is watching you."

He rubbed Harry's lower back, his slender hands tracing small circles as he tried to quiet the younger boy's constant sniffling. Inside of him, a pit was forming, only to be filled with a deep sadness. The same thought went through his mind repeatedly.

She's gone. She's never coming back. A lump then began forming in his throat.

No! he thought furiously. I am not going to show any type of emotion...

Draco began shaking, trying to keep his suppressed emotions at bay. Harry, sensing this, turned around to face the blond, his emerald eyes still slightly glazed over. His voice was so quiet, Draco barely heard him.

"It's okay to cry, Draco."

- - -

"Ron, I'm sorry I forgot to tell you, but I have to go!" Hermione shouted as she began walking out of the common room. Ron followed her, attempting to talk her out of it.

"You went only a couple days ago!" he countered. "Why do you need to go again? So soon, for that matter."

"Ron, are you that daft?" the brunette hissed, lowering her voice so that only Ron could hear her. "I am only doing this for Harry. Don't you want him back?"

"Of course I do!" the redhead exclaimed, his eyes widening. His outburst caused several pairs of curious eyes to look in their direction. "I just thought -- never mind." He heaved a resigned sigh, having failed his attempt to say whatever was on his mind.

"Good," Hermione replied, smiling sweetly at him. "Now, I have to go, unless you want to try to prevent me from going again, causing us to lose about one hundred house points." After the last statement, her brown eyes narrowed, daring Ron to try and stop her.

"No, just go," Ron muttered, heaving another sigh. He followed her for a short distance, stopping to stand just inside the portrait hole. "Like he won't try to take some, anyway!" he called after her retreating back.

Hermione chuckled quietly to herself as she turned down an adjacent corridor, shaking her head. Ron was just so...Ron. He never thought anything through properly. That would be why he's always diving headfirst into things and getting himself into trouble, she thought to herself. He just has that nasty temper of his...

Her deep thinking continued as she entered the entrance hall and made her way toward the dungeons. She was standing in front of the Potion's classroom door before she even realized it.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione placed her hand on the knob and pushed the door open. The sight of several cauldrons and a livid Potions master met her eyes.

"You're late," he hissed before she could even get a word out. "Twenty points from Gryffindor." He turned around quickly and headed toward his desk.

At least it wasn't a hundred, Hermione thought miserably. She then jumped when a loud thud was heard after Snape dropped the potions book onto a nearby desk. He placed a finger at a certain area of the page. Hermione leaned forward, looking down at the paragraph he was indicating.

"As you can see, these two solutions have to be mixed together," he muttered, indicating two of the several cauldrons, one containing a pale blue substance, the other a vivid red. "Certain amounts have to be put in at a time, so it has to be done very carefully. If done correctly, it should come turn out as a metallic purple." Hermione nodded her understanding, but Snape didn't appear to be finished.

"This is the second to last step of the process. Once this is done, everything will be mixed together. The potion may be completed within the next couple of hours."

"What?" Hermione gasped, looking at him in utter shock. "So soon? I thought it was going to take a lot longer to make!"

"Things have gone better than planned," Snape replied, looking down at her with a look of disgust on his pale face. "For it to take effect takes a while longer, perhaps a few days or so."

Hermione nodded and looked down at the book. "Now that you understand, you can get to work. I'll be over here checking these cauldrons, making sure everything is correct."

"Yes, sir."

- - -

Hermione arrived back at Gryffindor Tower a few hours later, feeling rather tired. Her task for that day seemed easy enough, but the concentration required for measuring the exact amounts and placing them in the cauldron at certain time intervals spent most of her brain power.

"Hermione?"

The brunette looked up to see Ron sitting on the couch with Ginny, both with open textbooks placed on their laps. She walked over and sat down heavily, upsetting some of their papers.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little tired," she replied, giving him a small smile.

"Why does he make you do all of the work?" the older redhead questioned, narrowing his eyes at her. "It's because you're a Gryffindor, isn't it? Or does he not want to get his lazy --"

"He doesn't make me do all of the work," Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "In fact, he did most of it. He added most of the ingredients while I stirred them in and added different solutions together. Yes, I know it sounds easy," she added, noticing he was about to open his mouth to speak, "but it takes a lot more concentration than you think."

"Oh." Ron mumbled. "Well, hopefully it gets easier as you get farther into the process of making it."

"It certainly will get easier," Hermione replied with a smile. "It's done."

"Really? That's great!" Ron exclaimed, sitting up and turning to face her properly. Ginny nodded her agreement, smiling brightly. "We'll get to have Harry back sooner than we thought!"

"No, Ron, that's not how it is," Hermione muttered, shaking her head. Ron merely raised an eyebrow in question, silently indicating for her to continue. "The potion is done, but it will take a while before it takes effect."

"How long?"

"A few days, possibly more," Hermione replied, slowly moving away from the older redhead.

"...Damn it!"

- - -

Draco stalked over to the entrance to his dormitory as the rather persistent knocking continued. Expecting it to be the Gryffindors, he threw it open rather violently.

"What the hell do you --" The blond quickly quieted when he realized that it was Professor Snape standing there, rather than Granger and Weasel.

"Sorry, Professor. I thought you were someone else," Draco mumbled as he stepped aside to let the Potions Master through.

"Clearly," Snape replied coolly. "I have something for Potter."

At the sound of his surname, Harry's head snapped up. He was seated on the couch, leafing through one of Draco's textbooks before Snape arrived. When he spotted the surly man, he jumped, letting out a small yelp. Losing his balance, Harry fell to the floor, along with the book. When he was able to sit up, he placed both of his hands on the side of the table, looking over the edge at them with a sheepish expression on his face. Snape just cleared his throat, drawing his attention from the embarrassed Gryffindor.

"As I was saying, I have something." He reached for one of the pockets on the inside of his robes and pulled out a small vial of metallic purple liquid.

"Is that --"

"The aging potion, yes," Snape interjected. "This is only the first dose. There is a total of eight and they are to be taken in twelve hour intervals; I shall be back with the next one at approximately nine o' clock tomorrow morning." Draco nodded his understanding as the professor uncorked the vial. He and Draco then walked over to Harry, who was still a little red in the face and watching Snape with a sceptical expression. Draco kneeled down in front of him, the vial of potion at hand.

"Drink this, Harry," he said, pushing it into the boy's small hands.

Harry looked at it for a moment, as if deciding whether it was safe to accept or not. The blond was immediately reminded of the war when he gave Harry a potion, and he had hesitated, not knowing whether it was poison or not. No matter what he did, Draco could not forget about the terrible things he had seen during the war. All of the pain, destruction, and worst of all, death.

Death. The mere word wrenched at Draco's heart, filling his chest with dread. His mother was gone, the very person he had been closest to and understood him the most. Now she was gone, lost forever in oblivion...

"Draco!"

The professor's sharp voice brought his back to reality rather harshly. "You looked like you had been hit with the Imperius Curse," he snapped.

"Sorry," Draco mumbled, averting his attention back to Harry. The small boy hesitantly placed the vial to his lips and drained the liquid. A look of utter disgust immediately made it's way onto his face.

"Now, it will take approximately a few days to take effect, as I've said, so he may be back to normal --" The professor immediately stopped in mid-sentence, his dark gaze stuck on Harry. The young Gryffindor's expression of disgust was now replaced with one of pain, and he was lying rigidly on the floor.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, making to move the boy closer. Harry cried out in pain at the slightest touch, tears streaming down his face. The blond looked up at the professor, the question clearly written on his face.

"It is most likely some sort of side effect," Snape said, though he didn't seem so sure of himself. "I will consult the book to find out exactly. It would be best to take him to bed and let him sleep it off."

The professor then turned to leave, but stopped in mid-step. He had his back turned to Draco, so it was hard to make out the words, though the blond could tell he was deadly serious. "Keep an extremely close eye on him, and report to me if anything else happens. If something goes wrong, we'll both be hexed into oblivion." The man then turned to look over his shoulder, nodding respectively.

"Good night, Mr. Malfoy," the Potions Master said before walking out of the room.

As soon as Professor Snape walked out of the dormitory, Draco leaned down to pick up Harry to carry him upstairs. The boy cried out even louder, his face contorted in pain. His skin was pale and warm to the touch. A fine sheen of perspiration shone on his forehead.

When Draco entered his bedroom, he just placed Harry in bed and, slowly but carefully, removed his shirt and trousers; if he even attempted to change him into pajamas, he would only cause him more pain. The blond then crawled under the sheets; he wasn't that tired, but he thought he should stay there in case Harry needed him.

Propping himself up on his elbow, Draco turned and looked down at Harry. He ran a slender hand through the midnight locks, brushing them off of his warm forehead. The boy appeared less tense, but his eyes were still closed and his breathing was a lot more rapid than it should have been.

After extinguishing the lights, Draco laid back, pulling the sheets up over Harry.

"Don't be scared," he said quietly, closing his eyes and getting himself comfortable. "It will all be over tomorrow morning."

Little did Draco know how true his statement was.

- - - - - - -

...TBC...