A Question of Choice Part II

Author’s notes: This story was not supposed to have a part two, but as so often happens, people ask me for a sequel and then I start thinking about and then BAM! Part 2 is born. So here it is. Oh and FYI...since writing the first one, I have managed to read all five Harry Potters. I am now officially hooked, damn it. Still think the characters are a little OOC, but that never hurt anybody.

A Question of Choice (Part 2)

The days after Draco Malfoy saved Harry Potter’s life were days filled with great change. Dumbledore, fearing that Draco would be in danger if he continued in Slytherin, had the boy resorted. The sorting hat, to no one’s great surprise, placed the boy in Gryffindor. Draco was not altogether pleased about this, but pragmatic as he was, he realized it was probably the best thing for him. He was both surprised and relieved to find that he was accepted into his new house rather quickly. Perhaps it had something to do with his new hero status, perhaps it had something to do with the innate kindness of the Gryffindors. Whatever it was, Draco was grateful for it. He knew the Slytherins would never accept someone different so easily.

 

Another change, one that affected the entire the school, was that now everyone knew of Harry’s pregnancy. Now that Voldemort knew about it, there seemed no reason to keep it a secret any longer. The students were told about it, en masse, one night during dinner. At first there was confusion and disbelief. Then once everyone was able to absorb the news, the mood changed drastically. To say the students were happy about this turn of events was an understatement. There was a feeling of anticipation and general happiness in the air that would be unequaled for many years to come.

 

It was several days after the announcement, now two weeks away from Harry’s due date, that Draco found himself having another one of his nightmares. He awoke from it abruptly, his heart beating frantically, as he literally gasped for precious air. He looked around the dorm room, momentarily disoriented, until he recognized his surroundings. It was then that his breathing and his heartbeat started to slow. He brought a shaking hand up to his mouth and wondered if he’d screamed. He peered into the darkness at all his sleeping roommates. Apparently he hadn’t screamed out loud, only in his dream. He took his hand away from his mouth and ran it through his hair. He knew sleep would elude him now, as it always did after one of these nightmares. He grabbed his robe and, wrapping it around himself, made his way silently to the Gryffindor common room. He sat down on one of the couches and sighed. It was going to be a long night.

A moment later he heard footsteps approaching him from behind. He turned around to see who else could possibly be awake at this hour and was surprised to see that it was Harry Potter that was walking towards him. Well walking wasn’t really the right word...waddling towards him was more accurate.

“Potter,” he said tiredly by way of greeting.  

Despite the fact that most of their animosity had evaporated, neither boy had fallen out of the habit of calling the other by their last name.

“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry said quietly.

“What are you doing down here at this hour? Shouldn’t you be getting all the sleep you can?” Draco asked. He watched in amusement as Harry struggled to sit down next to him on the couch. When Harry was finally situated, he said, somewhat sheepishly, “Actually I was following you.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I...I heard you. I’ve heard you before. With the nightmares, I mean.”

Draco straightened. “Did I say something? Did I make a sound or something?”

Harry shook his head. “No, but it was pretty obvious you weren’t having pleasant dreams.” Then remembering the blond boy’s pride he suddenly understood what Draco was really asking. “No one else heard you. No one else knows. I only did because I’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately.”

Draco relaxed, the relief evident on his face. “Oh. Good.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked.

Draco was about to say something along the lines of “no, thank you” when he stopped to reconsider. Truth was, he did want to talk about it. The nightmares were taking their toll; he was tired and on edge and there really wasn’t anyone he felt he could confide in about it all. Not that Harry was his best friend or anything, but telling Harry would be all right. The other boy would never hold it against him. And he would never tell anyone else.

Decision made, he found himself abruptly saying, “They’re about my father.”

“The nightmares?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah.”

“Malfoy, you’re safe here. He’s not going to get to you. And he’ll be caught soon. He’s not invincible,” Harry said as he tried to reassure him.

Draco chuckled. Harry thought that he was worried about his father getting revenge on him. “No Potter, that’s not it. I’m not having dreams about my father and the future. I’m having dreams about what’s happened in the past.”

Harry sat up slightly. He had not been expecting this. “What do you mean?”

Draco sighed heavily. “You remember that staff that my father beat you with?” he asked.

Harry winced and clutched his stomach. “How could I forget, Malfoy? He almost killed me.”

“Would it surprise you to know that I’ve been beaten...oh...about a thousand times with that same staff?”

Harry breathed in sharply. Surprise was not the word for what he felt at hearing those words. He had never in a million years imagined that Draco had been anything other than a spoiled and pampered child. “What?” he asked.

“Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but that’s what he would use on me when he wasn’t happy with me. When he was angry or disappointed.” He paused and frowned. “I disappointed him a lot.”

Harry shook his head, still trying to get used to the idea of Draco Malfoy having had a less than perfect childhood. “I had no idea.”

Draco looked at him sharply. “Of course you didn’t. No one did.” He fell silent and stared at his hands for a moment. “I tried so hard Potter. So hard to be the person he wanted me to be. But it was never good enough. I was never good enough. I wasn’t fast enough, clever enough, evil enough...” He smirked slightly as he said the word evil, but the smirk quickly faded. “He always said that the beatings were for my own good. But how can beating a child be good?” he asked as he turned to look at Harry again.

Harry was stunned by the amount of anguish he saw in the other boy’s face. It was like looking at a completely different person. He took a deep breath and said, “Listen Malfoy, in a few more years you’ll be your own man. And you won’t have to please anyone or answer to anyone but yourself.”

“I know. I know that,” Draco said before falling silent. He was quiet for so long that Harry didn’t think he had anything else to say. He was just about to excuse himself and go back upstairs when Draco started speaking again. “You want to hear something really fucked up, though?” he asked, with a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Harry nodded quickly.

“I still love him. He’s my father. If he came up to me tomorrow and told me all was forgiven and I could go back...I don’t know what I’d do.”

Harry could think of nothing to say to that. Could think of no words that might make things better, so he settled for placing his hand on Draco’s shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. Draco seemed to understand the meaning of the gesture. He smiled wanly. “Thanks for listening to me ramble on, Potter.”

“Anytime, Malfoy.”

“And if you tell anyone about this, I’ll hurt you. I don’t care if you’re pregnant.”

Harry could only smile at what he knew to be an empty threat. “I won’t. I swear.”

“Yeah well...shouldn’t you be getting on to bed now?” Draco asked as he fidgeted in his seat.

Harry understood. Draco had just confided something very personal to the person that used to be his worst enemy. He would be uneasy about it. He would probably be a little embarrassed. Guessing that Draco wanted to be alone, Harry pushed himself up from the couch, which was not an easy task, and bade the other boy a good night before taking his leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several days later found Draco sitting in the Gryffindor common room taking in the sights that were becoming increasingly familiar to him. Over in the corner was Colin Creevey, fiddling with his ever-present camera. In the middle of the room sat Hermione, an open book in front of her, an intense look in her eyes. Next to her sat Ron and Harry, talking animatedly about something or other; probably Quidditch. Harry was practically glowing, his hands resting on his belly, occasionally rubbing it gently.

 

Who would have ever thought, he mused. Who would have ever thought that this would be his life?

He sighed and settled back in the armchair that he was occupying. Who would have ever thought that he would be so at peace?

Suddenly his mood was disrupted by a sharp intake of breath from Harry. He looked over to see that the boy was doubled over slightly, a look of confusion on his face.

“You all right, Harry?” Ron asked immediately. Hermione put her book down so fast the movement was almost a blur.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he straightened. “I just got a twinge there. It hurt a little is all.”

Hermione stood up. “What do you mean a twinge? Where? Was this the first one?”

Harry looked up at her. “A twinge, that’s all. Lily’s kicking or something. And yes, it’s the first one.”

“Harry, what if you’re...”

“I’m not in labor, Hermione. I’ve still got a week to go. I told you it was just a...” Harry wasn’t able to finish his sentence, for just then a searing pain cut through his stomach. Harry doubled over and would have dropped to the floor had Ron and Hermione not moved so quickly to catch him.

“What the hell was that?” Ron asked in bewilderment.

Harry was in too much pain to even attempt to answer. His guts felt like they were being rearranged within his body. Panic hit him when he realized that there might be something wrong with Lily. He struggled to stand up, finally managing to do so with Ron and Hermione’s help.

Colin rushed to them, already bringing the camera up to his face.

“Take one picture and die,” Ron said.

Colin slowly put the camera down. “But Ron...” he said half-heartedly in protest.

“I think he’s in labor,” Hermione said as she clutched at Harry’s arm, trying desperately to help keep him upright.

“But doesn’t it usually progress a little more slowly? Mum’s did with Ginny,” Ron said, now completely ignoring Colin.

It was at this moment that Draco decided to make his presence known. He stood up and said, “This is a magical, unnatural pregnancy, Weasley. Of course it’s not going to progress normally.”

Harry started to straighten, his breathing evening out, when another contraction hit, this one more powerful than the first. This time neither Ron nor Hermione could hold him up, he bent over so violently. As his knees hit the floor, he took Hermione down with him.

Draco looked on in semi-amusement at the scene before him. These three would never get the boy to the infirmary at this rate. He made a noise of disgust and stood up.

“Stand back Granger. I’ll take care of this.”

Hermione gave him a searching look and then relented. She stood up and moved away from Harry, who was moaning piteously and clutching his stomach.

Draco brandished his wand and used both a levitating spell to get Harry to the infirmary quickly and a silencing spell so that he couldn’t attract too much attention to himself with his loud moans.

When they arrived at the infirmary, both spells were ended and Harry was laid gently on a bed. Madam Pomfrey rushed over instantly, fussing and touching and poking with almost maternal concern.

After a few seconds, she announced loudly, “He’s in labor!”

It didn’t take long for the news to spread to all of Hogwarts, and soon Harry was surrounded by Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Hagrid and Pomfrey, all of them except the medi-witch hovering just out of reach. Draco had since moved to a corner, where he was watching the proceedings with interest.

Harry was making noises of pain that Draco had never heard come from a living being before. He winced as he saw Harry take Ron’s hand and grip it so tightly that Weasley almost sank to the ground. He looked up to the skies and thanked every possible god up there that this had not happened to him.

“You can’t push yet, Potter, your body’s not ready yet,” Madam Pomfrey was saying sternly, interrupting Draco’s thoughts.

“But I’m dying!” Harry wailed.

“No you’re not child, you just need to breathe,” she countered in her most reasonable voice.

“Never...never again. Stupid, bloody potion...” Harry managed to say before his voice dissolved into a low moan.

Draco looked around and thought that this was probably a good time to make his exit. Harry had the most important people in his life here, he was no longer needed. And with that thought, he quickly turned around and left. Even out in the hall, he could hear Potter screeching about the pain.

The last thing he heard from the room before he rounded a corner was Harry’s voice yelling, “I...hate...to sound...like a stereo-typical woman...but get this baby out of me...NOW!” The last word was a full-fledged scream.

Draco chuckled slightly and continued on his way, more thankful than ever that it wasn’t he who had screwed up a potion so badly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was surprised to hear that Harry wanted to see him so soon after the birth of his child. He figured that he wouldn’t be seeing the other boy for a few days, at least until he’d left the infirmary and was back in the dorms. He never expected that he would be called in to see him the day after he had given birth.

Feeling a little uneasy, he walked into the infirmary and walked straight to Harry’s bed. It was hard to miss, what with all the flowers and cards and streamers surrounding it. And there, in the midst of it all, lay Harry, propped up on pillows, looking disheveled and tired, holding a very tiny little baby.

Draco sat down on the chair next to the bed and waited.

“Thanks for coming, Malfoy,” Harry said.

“Of course,” Draco said with a nod.

Harry looked down at the child that he held so carefully in his arms. “Lily, I want you to meet Draco. This is the person that saved our lives. We owe him more than we can ever repay him.” At these last words, Harry looked up and met Draco’s eyes, and the sincerity in them was almost overwhelming.

Draco did not miss the fact that Harry had called him by his first name, but he chose to say nothing. Instead he looked down at the baby with her dark messy hair and bright green eyes that looked up at her father so inquisitively, and smiled. “It’s a pleasure, Lily.”

He looked up at Harry. “She’s beautiful, Harry.” And he meant it. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Thanks. I just can’t believe she’s here. After all that time, she’s finally here with me. I finally have a family.”

Draco didn’t say anything, he merely listened as Harry continued to speak. “And she’ll never, ever know what it’s like to feel unwanted or unloved. Ever.”

Draco was surprised. Harry had spoken that sentence with the intensity of someone who had had a really shitty childhood. Although he was curious, he knew now was not the time to question Harry about it. He stowed that question away into the recesses of his brain for later.

He stayed for a little while longer, until Lily started to fuss and Madam Pomfrey bustled in with a baby bottle and cries of “feeding time”. Harry rolled his eyes slightly as he accepted the bottle and wiggled it into Lily’s mouth.

Draco rolled his eyes in sympathy and excused himself with a smile.

He left the infirmary with no particular destination in mind. He knew that he wasn’t ready to go to his next class (that his concentration would be almost nil) and that he wasn’t ready to head to the common room.

So instead he wandered. He wandered through the great stone corridors of Hogwarts and then eventually onto its splendid grounds.

After about an hour of this, he found himself at the edge of the lake, looking out at the rippling, blue waters. He was quite alone, with most of the other students in their classes, which is exactly how he wanted it. He stood very close to the water’s edge and sighed as he thought about his life and the amazing twists and turns it had taken recently.

It was then that a slight rustling sound from behind him alerted him to another person’s presence.

Senses on high alert, he whirled around to see a very familiar figure standing not more than five feet in front of him.

“What are you doing here? How did you get past the wards?” Draco asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Draco. Is that any way to greet your father?”Lucius asked.

Draco didn’t bother to try to answer; running on pure instinct, he lifted his wand in an effort to protect himself. Unfortunately, his father was quicker. He always had been.

He heard his father yell out Stupefy and then he knew no more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco awoke some time later to find himself in a small, dark room made of stone. What little light there was came from flickering torches set into the walls. The torches offered no warmth however, and Draco shivered intensely from the cold dampness of the place.

He was in a standing position, held upright by chains that encircled his wrists and attached to the stone ceiling overhead. His arms ached horribly and he straightened to take the pressure off of them.

He looked around his prison (for that’s what it unmistakably was) and felt the fear blossom within his chest. It sat there, heavy and solid, making it hard to breathe and making rational thought all but impossible.

In truth there was only one sentence running through his brain, over and over again, like a sick mantra.

My father is angry.  

 

My father is angry.

My father is angry.

By the time his father walked into the room, Draco was almost beside himself with fear. He swallowed heavily and tried to slow down his breathing. It was never wise to show too much weakness in front of his father.

“Well Draco. You’re finally awake,” Lucius said coldly by way of greeting.

Draco looked at him and mustered enough courage to speak. “Father,” he said simply.

“No, Draco, you have lost the right to call me that. You are no longer my son.”

“Father, please...” Draco began.

“You betrayed me, Draco!” Lucius shouted, and in the small chamber, his voice thundered. “You betrayed me! How could you?”

“I did the right thing, father. The only right thing that I’ve ever done in my life. And I don’t regret it. If I had to do it again, I would, ” Draco yelled; feeling suddenly, inexplicably angry.

Lucius moved so quickly that Draco didn’t even have time to prepare for the blow. His head rocked back from the force of it, and for a moment Draco was afraid that his father had broken his jaw or something. He didn’t know that the man could hit so hard without his cane. He tasted blood on his lips and knew that they had been split open. He turned his head back to his father and opened his mouth to speak.

“Quiet. Not another word,” Lucius commanded, and Draco closed his mouth slowly. “You disgust me Draco. Our Lord has allowed me to deal with you myself but truthfully I can’t even bear to be in your presence.

You will know the price of betrayal, and by the time this is all over, you will be begging me to die. And then, only then, perhaps I shall grant you that wish.”

Draco stared after his father, shocked. He hadn’t even given him a chance to try and explain. He knew his father would be angry, but he had never allowed himself to believe that he would go this far. Could he mean it? Would he really kill him?

Lucius took a moment to stare at his son with a mixture of contempt and disappointment, then he said, “Your punishment begins now.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, his robes billowing behind him.

Almost as soon as his father left, another man entered. He was a death eater, complete with a hood and mask that conveniently hid his identity.

The mask stared at him dispassionately. “Your father has asked me to punish you. Apparently you have been a very bad boy, Draco.”  

Draco watched as the man lifted his wand slowly and pointed it at him. He tried to steel himself for whatever was to come.

And then the man yelled, “Crucio!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco lay on the rough floor in the stone cell - the man that had tortured him had left him some time ago and he had been mercifully released from the chains that held him. His breathing was heavy and labored, his muscles seizing involuntarily every few seconds. Blood still flowed from his mouth where he had bitten through his tongue in his intense agony.

Through his haze of misery, Draco heard a door opening and the sound of footsteps coming towards him. He groaned as he turned his head to see who was approaching him.

As the figure came into view, he could see that it was Lucius. His father’s face was grim as he bent down towards him. “Have you had enough? Will you beg me to die?”

Draco’s throat was sore from screaming, but he still managed to answer, even if his voice was only a small croak. “Go to hell. Father.”

Draco expected to be struck for his insolence, but nothing happened. Instead his father seemed a bit amused by his answer. He smiled coldly and said, “Till tomorrow then,” then stood up and left.

Draco closed his eyes and tried to quell the fear in his heart. The fear, however, was not going anywhere.

How was he supposed to survive another day like today? He wasn’t brave like Potter. How could he possibly get through another session of torture? How could his father do this to him?

These thoughts swirled anxiously in his mind until his exhausted body could take no more and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next time he woke up, he was vertical again; chained to the ceiling by his wrists in exactly the same manner as the previous day.

A death eater was already in the cell with him, looking at him with eager eyes.

“Finally, I thought you’d never wake,” he said.

“So sorry to have inconvenienced you,” Draco said in his best sarcastic voice.

The anonymous figure seemed amused by this and gave a quiet chuckle. Then it brandished a staff that looked unnervingly like his father’s. Draco instinctively tried to move away, pulling at the chains in frustration and fear. The first blow from the staff landed on his upraised arm. The second on his upper back, the third on his leg. By the time the fifth blow landed, his was biting his lip to keep from screaming. By the tenth, he was pleading with the death eater to stop between screams. By the fourteenth, all he could do was sob.

Soon after that, he mercifully lost consciousness.

He awoke to the sensation of someone standing over him and he realized that he was on the floor again. He opened his eyes with great effort and used all his strength to focus. He was not exactly surprised to find his father staring down at him.

“Are you ready to beg me to die?” Lucius asked.

Well, leave it to his father to cut straight to the chase.

Draco swallowed thickly and whispered, “No.” Gods, but it hurt just to speak that one word.

“Why? Why would you want to put yourself through the pain, Draco, when you know you will die eventually?” Lucius asked. Then, as an idea came into his head, he opened his eyes wide. “You’re waiting for Harry Potter to come save you.”

Draco was about to deny it, but then he stopped himself. Is that what he was doing? Was he waiting for Potter to rescue him? With a slight gasp, he realized that he was. That this was the reason he was holding out. He swallowed again, forcing himself to talk despite the pain in his throat. “Potter will come for me,” he rasped.

“Nonsense. You are nothing to that boy. You who tormented him for the past three years? Why would he care about you?” Lucius said in a scathing voice.

“I...I saved...” Draco began.

“Oh yes. You saved his life and that of his child. But just think Draco, would Potter endanger his life for yours; now that he has a child? Would he really risk dying and leaving his child an orphan as he himself was left an orphan...for you? Oh he might do it for his friends, the people that he truly loves. But you Draco,” he said and at this he leaned in very close, “are nothing to him.”

His father’s words cut Draco to his very soul, because as much as a part of him believed that Harry would come for him, another, smaller part of him believed that Harry couldn’t possibly care less about him. That no one really cared about him and that he would be left here to rot.

He let out a sob at the thought of dying here; in pain and alone.

Lucius sneered and drew even closer. For one brief moment, Draco thought he was going to comfort him in some way, but of course he wasn’t.

“Crying, are you? Is the truth a bit much for you, Draco? Well, don’t worry boy. This will all be over soon. You can’t possibly last much longer. You look like hell already.”

His father tapped him lightly on his cheek with his open palm and then left the room, once more leaving Draco alone.

Draco placed a trembling hand on the cheek that his father had just touched and he wept.  

The third day of torture was pretty much the same as the previous two. He awoke to find himself tied to the ceiling by means of cold chains. Then a death eater came into the room. Then came the pain.

This time around, his torturer stuck with Crucio and other forms of wizard torture. By the time the man was finished with him and he was lowered to the floor, Draco knew that his father had been right. He wouldn’t last much longer. His head pounded mercilessly as a sudden rush of nausea lurched through his body. He turned his head just in time to vomit violently on the floor. Not that there was much for his body to throw up; he hadn’t really been fed since he’d been brought here.

Perhaps I will beg my father to kill me, he thought as he finally lost consciousness.

When he next awoke, it was to sound of his name being whispered into his ear.

“Malfoy...”

Oh that voice was so familiar. So blessedly familiar. He tried to open his eyes but they felt as if they had been glued shut.

“Malfoy, come on. Wake up.”

The voice was insistent and Draco felt the need to try to do what it said. He groaned and with what seemed an almost super-human effort, slowly opened his eyes. His heart leapt wildly in his chest when he realized that he was right; that kneeling next to him was the famous Harry Potter, hero-extraordinaire and all-around golden boy. He’d never been so happy to see someone in his entire life.

“Potter,” he gasped, “...took you s’ long?”

“Malfoy?”

 

“Hmmm?”

“Shut up,” Harry said.

“Ok,” Draco said and sighed wearily. That small bit of talking had just used up the last of his strength and he found that his eyes were closing again.

Harry placed a warm hand on Draco’s forehead and brushed aside his damp, dirty hair. “Can you walk?” he asked.

Draco wanted to sound courageous and say that he could, but the truth was he could barely move. Hell he could barely even talk. Draco shook his head slightly and managed to mutter something that sounded like no.

“All right then. Hang on to me, ok?” Harry asked. Draco nodded then realized his mistake. The nausea was back. “Sick...” he mumbled.

“You’re going to be sick?” Harry asked.

Draco would have at least attempted to answer, but just at that moment, his stomach twisted. He felt himself being pulled up to a sitting position and being turned slightly to the right and then he was retching all over the stone floor.

The episode didn’t last long, there was now literally nothing but bile in his stomach, and when he was done he slumped back in Harry’s arms heavily.

He gasped for breath, dimly noting that his heart was beating much too fast and that it was much too difficult to get air into his lungs.

Damn, this can’t be good, can it? Am I dying or something?

“Malfoy!” Harry yelled, interrupting his thoughts. “Stay with me!”

That’s easier said than done, Potter.

Had he said that out loud? He hoped so, he didn’t want to go like a wimp. If this was his time to die, he wanted to go being sarcastic and witty.

But if he had indeed managed to say it out loud, then Harry was ignoring him. He was still yelling, except now he was saying, “They’re coming. Oh no, they’re coming! Malfoy, you have to hang on to me!” 

There was a note of fear in Harry’s voice now. It was that fear more than anything that Draco finally responded to. He raised his head a little, just in time to see that Harry was lifting him from the floor. Using what felt like his last bit of strength, Draco placed his arms around Harry’s neck and held on.

At just that moment, the door to the room opened. Draco knew that his father was coming to see if he would choose to die.

His arms tightened reflexively around Harry and he whispered, “Get me out...here.”

Harry nodded just as Lucius walked through the door. He caught a glimpse of Lucius’ pale face constricting in anger, his hand automatically raising his wand...

And then they were gone.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco woke quickly, his senses coming to full alert almost instantly. Too many years of living with his father had taught him that particular little trick. He relaxed when he saw that he was in the Hogwart’s infirmary. Then he noticed who was sitting at his bedside.

“Potter. Granger,” he said.

Harry and Hermione stopped whispering to each other when they heard their names being spoken. They both turned towards him with near-identical looks of concern on their faces.

“Malfoy, how are you feeling?” Hermione asked.

He thought about that and silently took inventory. His entire body ached. His head was throbbing. He felt exhausted and worn as well as a little nauseous. “As well as can be expected when one is tortured for three days straight,” he finally said, his voice made rough from too many days spent screaming.

Harry frowned. “Yeah, I’m so sorry. I would have come sooner, but it wasn’t all that easy tracking you down. When I saw you I thought I was too late.”

Draco looked down at the sheets and mumbled something.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch...”

Draco raised his head. “I wasn’t sure if you would come.”

Harry looked shocked. “Of course I was going to come. Do you think I’d leave you there?”

Draco didn’t answer. He didn’t want to admit that he had thought he was as good as dead. He didn’t want to think about how he had wept when he thought that he would die alone. He didn’t want to remember the feeling of elation and relief when he realized that Harry had come for him. So instead he said, “My father...”

“Oh yes, him. He escaped again. By the time the Aurors finally got there, he was long gone.” Seeing the pained look on Draco’s face, Harry quickly added, “But don’t worry too much. They have a pretty good idea of where he is. They expect to capture him within the next few days.”

“Why didn’t the Aurors just come with you? Why even give him the chance to get away?” Draco asked.

Harry grimaced, then looked to Hermione. She gave a quick nod but stayed silent. “Ah well...you know how these things go...” he said evasively.

Draco was about to say that ‘no he didn’t know how these things went’, but Harry was already standing up and walking towards the exit. “I have to go Draco. Lily’s missing me, I’m sure. I’ll be back tomorrow, all right?”

Draco watched him go, then turned towards Hermione with a look of confusion on his face.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“I don’t think he wants you to know,” she said.

“Know what?” Draco asked. “About the Aurors? What happened with them?”

Hermione sighed and took the seat that Harry had vacated, the one closest to Draco. “He doesn’t want you to know,” she repeated.

“Why not? Don’t I deserve to?”

“I think so but...”

“Come on Granger. Tell me.”

Draco could see Hermione struggling with the decision of whether to tell him or not. Finally she said, “All right, but if you say anything to him Malfoy, I swear...”

“I won’t, Granger. If there’s one thing I know how to do is keep a secret.” He didn’t bother to add that he was good at keeping secrets only when he wanted to.

Hermione sighed wearily. “Harry knew where you were on the second day. He told the Ministry, expecting them to send Aurors to get you out right away. But they didn’t. They felt they needed further proof that you were really being held there against your will and that you hadn’t gone back to join your father.”

Draco stared at her. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All that time he was suffering while the Ministry took their time deciding if he was fit to rescue?

“Harry got sick of waiting. He left me a note saying to take care of Lily. Then he went in alone. He apparated in, found you and disapparated back here.”

Draco shook his head. He felt like he was in a dream; surrounded by fog that was making everything seem so surreal. “He’s not old enough to...”

“He’s also Harry Potter,” Hermione said.

“He risked his life for me,” he said as he shook his head to clear the fog; to try to understand. “They would have left me there to die, but he came for me. Even with Lily, he came for me.”

“Yes,” Hermione said simply.

“Is this what it’s like? To have friends?” he asked suddenly. He was aware that the question was silly, but he really needed to know. He needed to understand why he was feeling warm and safe and grateful.

Hermione placed her hand atop his and nodded. “Yes.”

Draco breathed in deeply, enjoying the feel of her skin on his. “It’s nice.”

Hermione smiled. “Yes.”