The Rain

The rain

He had no idea how everything had begun. Absently noting that it was raining again, Draco Malfoy immersed himself in his thoughts. It had been five years since he had graduated from Hogwarts, and the twenty-three year-old was still wondering about this. How had it all begun? When had it all begun? Why him, out of everybody else?

The rain always had that effect on him. It always made him think about things which usually never bothered him. Maybe it was because of the significance of the rain. All those memories of events such a long time past...

******

Draco was upset. His father had finally signed the contract that bethrothed him to Pansy Parkinson. Never would he accept that, never.

"Dissensium," announce Draco to the statue.

He made his way through the tunnel, taking a hiden passage in the tunnel that would, instead of taking him to Honeyduke's, lead him to the Shrieking Shack, from where he would be able to go to the Three Broomsticks. He needed to drink his pain away. Of course, there were many ways to push problems away, but the young man only knew of this one. When he arrived at the old house, Draco found the place abnormally warm and bright. He opened the door of the living room to find a rather distraught Harry Potter in front of a warm fire, several empty butterbeer bottles surrounding him. 'What is he doing here?' thought the blond-headed young man to himself.

"Whoever you are, leave me alone," whispered the raven-haired boy in response.

"Potter, what are you doing here, alone in the dark?"

Harry seemed surprised to see his swore enemy emerging from the shadow. "Malfoy? Go away... please," he just said, looking back at the fire.

Draco felt that there was something unusual about his arch-enemy. He walked closer so that he could see Harry's face. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the boy who had always been known to be strong, this same boy who had always been in the forefront of danger, was actually crying. Draco could only feel a strange feeling stirring within himself, but he didn't know what it was.

"Potter, I asked you what you are doing here and I expect an answer from you," he asked again coldly.

"I don't have anything to say to you, Malfoy. Just go away... please... leave..." pleaded Harry, his gaze still locked in front of him.

"You look like you need help to get back to the castle, Potter. I'll go find your friends; they will take you back," retorted the Slytherin.

As he stepped toward the door, the other boy exclaimed, "No! Don't! I don't want to see anybody. Go back, leave me here. I'll find my way back by myself."

"Ok then, just make sure you don't pass out in the tunnel," whispered Draco.

"Sure, and Malfoy?"

"Yes, Potter?" answered Draco.

"Thanks."

It was now his turn to be surprised. "For what? I haven't done anything."

"That's why I'm thanking you. Good night, Malfoy."

"You too, Potter, you too," he whispered, turning to go back to the castle.

Draco went back to his dormitory. He couldn't sleep, so he went to sit on the edge of a window in an empty classroom. The rain was still falling outside as he began to think about Potter. Why was he crying for? Why haven't I been able to say anything to him? Sure it's not in my nature, my personality, to do so, but I should have said something to him. Still wondering about it, he fell asleep, his head pressed against the window. He was far from knowing that something had changed deeply within him that night.

It had been almost a month since Draco had sneaked out of the castle the first time. A month since he had seen Harry Potter crying in front of that fire. A month of Potter not even bothering to respond to any of his personal attacks during the day. A month of sleepless nights. A month...

One cold night, he managed to sneak out again, going through the statue and arrive in front of the door. He could hear someone sniff. He opened the door, just slightly, and was met with the same warmth, the same slightly musty scent of the old house, and the same person in front of the fire. Here, like it had been that night a month ago, crying. But this time, he closed the door again, and just listened. Draco returned the night after, and every other after that, and Harry would be there, crying his pain out and loud.

Tear after tear, Draco hid in the other room, wishing he could say something to the other young man. He hadn't learnt to talk to people. He had been raised to become a Death Eater. That night, he understood that scary feeling he had had when he had first seen Harry. Compassion. Normal people were accustomed to that, but not Draco Malfoy.

Malfoys have no feelings;

Malfoys never cry;

Malfoys never love;

Malfoys never show their pain;

Malfoys don't even feel pain;

Feelings are a weakness,

Malfoys are not weak.

The list went on and the heir of the Malfoy family had to memorize them all. It was the Malfoy's code. That night he decided he had had enough of all that. The Malfoy's code, the Death Eaters, Voldemort, his father, Pansy Parkinson and Voldemort. For months now he had been thinking about all this. He wanted to turn his back from this, from what they call the Dark Side. He wanted to work with the Order, with those who were fighting for the wizarding world's safety. He wanted to fight with him, maybe even for him. Draco had always known that he was attracted to men, and even slept with few of them. But he felt different about HIM. That night, he hadn't only seen his enemy's weakness. He had also seen his own.

Draco left his bed. He went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water and to sit in front of the window. It was still raining outside. As he watched the small raindrops running down the glass, he continued to relieve the memories of that time. How he had became a spy for Dumbledore, how he had kept going to his classes and how he had kept going in the Shrieking Shack every night he could. And how Harry had always been there and Draco had never had the courage to show himself.

Draco sighed as he remembered how Harry had discovered that he was in the house. So many emotions were involved that it had been hard to separate one from the other. So many words, unspoken for so many years.

******

Once again, Draco Malfoy was in the old house. He always managed to arrive first and hide in another room, beside the living room. The fire was slowly dying in the fireplace and the house had begun to get cold. He supposed that Harry was on his way back to the school, so he decided to go back too. This was as Harry always let the fire die out by itself before heading back to the castle and his bed. Draco came out of the room. Walking slowly, he opened the door which led to the tunnel.

"I knew someone was in here all these nights, but I never thought it could be you, Malfoy," said a posed voice behind him.

"How did you know?" responded Draco under his breath, his hand on the door.

"I felt a presence in the house. Now, I want to know why you're here." His voice was cold and sharp. Draco could immediately tell that he was upset. This was as Draco knew Harry very much. 'Always know you enemy perfectly'. That code again!

"I don't have to answer that question, Potter," the young man managed to say with a tremble in his voice, still not facing Harry.

"Face me while youre talking to me, Malfoy! It's the least I deserve." Once again, Harry's voice had changed, it was now trembling with rage. Not like Draco's, trembling with...fear?

"You're right, I'm sorry," he whispered, turning around. Draco was shaking. At this moment he didn't know how Harry would react, what he would say or how he felt. He looked so upset, but Draco could tell that he was fighting the tears coming to his eyes.

"That's better. Now, you will answer my questions: What are you doing here? Why are you spying on me?" asked the Boy-Who-Lived, his emerald eyes flashing at Draco.

The only answer that manage come out of his throat was a mere stutter that could perfectly compete with professor Quirrell, back to his first year, "I was-I was-I-I don't know. I don't know why I'm here. I've come here every night since the first time I saw you cry. I guess-I..."

"You wanted to know why I was here, so you came here to try to find out. I never thought you could go that far to find something you could make fun of! Have you found what youre looking for? Me, Harry Potter, the fucking so-called savior of the wizarding world, crying all alone, crying my heart and my soul out!"

"You don't understand..."

"Stop it, would you? I don't want your filthy lies! I'm here because..." began Harry with a broken voice. "Why would I think you care anyway? Why am I talking to you in the first place? Let's go back. I never want to see you here Malfoy, never!" At this, Harry made his way to the door, but Draco stopped him.

"Will you please listen to me? You asked me two questions and I will answer them, but if I tell you whats on my mind, you tell me what's on yours."

"Ok, go on. I'm listening," said Harry dryly.

"Perfect. You wanted to know why I was here, spying on you, right?"

"Damn right!"

"It's because... you awoke something in me, something I never felt before, something deep down inside of me. That night, I realised that I don't know how to talk to people. You seemed to need somebody to talk with, but I couldn't find the words. I knew what I wanted to say, but it's just that I couldn't get it out. You see, I've been raised to never feel anything, to never show anything and to always take advantage of any situation. That night I haven't been able to do that. I felt a pressure in my-my heart and b-b-butterflies in my stomach. Everybody knows that I have slept with half the students at Hogwarts, of both genders. But what I felt that night... never...I've never felt this before."

"You mean, that you never felt any feelings for anybody? Not any? Not even...friendship?" asked Harry, confused.

"No. Never. Last year, after Sirius Black's death and my father emprisonnement, I found out that I didn't want to live like that anymore. I need...Never mind, your turn now, Potter," said the fair-headed man.

"You haven't finished, what did you find out you needed?"

"I said never mind!"

"If you want me to help you, you have to tell me what you want," Harry said, his voice soft and strangely gentle.

"I never said I wanted you to help me!" snapped Draco.

"No, but you want me to. You see, Malfoy, as different as we are, at the same time, we are also similar. Look, you're a Slytherin, I'm a Gryffindor. You're fair-headed, I'm dark-headed. But you dont really have a family, me neither. My relatives hates me. I lost my parents. I just lost my godfather. Who will be next? Everybody who's worth to me is in danger. And I don't have anyone to talk to about all this, and you don't really have anyone either...You just said that you don't want what your father is expecting from you and I... I want somebody to take care of me. Someone who care about ME. Me, just Harry and not The-Boy-Who-Lived. A humain being who..." Harry's voice trailed off. A single tear ran down his cheek. "A humain being who needs love. A humain...like everybody else."

Suddenly, Draco only wanted to kiss that tear away, to make Harry feel better. To be that person Harry confided in. He rapidly wanted to be Harry Potter's everything.

"But you have friends, why not to talk to them? And they certainly like you a lot. For them, you're just Harry."

"Ron and Hermione are too busy together and I don't really have anybody else. Now, your turn. What did you find out?" replied Harry wiping his lonely tear away with the back of his hand.

"That I was able to care, that's what. Maybe someday I will be able to love like you do so well. But for now I learned to care. When I saw you crying, I wanted to do something. I wanted to help you. It had never happened before. I feel strange when I see you with your eyes all red and puffy. I want to...Maybe we should go back."

"No, tell me...How do you feel? What do you want to do?"

"Potter, I don't know. Ok? Anyway you will probably take advantage of the situation. How weak I can be. How stupid I am. How..."

"Yes?"

"How you make me feel...It's so weird, so unusual for me." said Draco, looking away.

Harry was getting closer to Draco. This latter felt, once again, the butterflies in his stomach as he locked his gaze to Harry's. He could hardly swallow and his breathing was quicker now. Harry's nose was touching Draco's. He brushed his used-to-be enemy's lips with his. Draco couldn't stand it anymore.

******

He will always remember that night. A house so cold, his breath so warm. His green eyes, his lips, his skin, his hair. Draco still got those butterflies in his stomach when he thought about that fateful night. How the rain was tapping steadily, once again, upon the window. How he knew, what he was trying to hide all those years of hate. All those times, thinking he was in danger because of his choice. He betrayed his father, his fate, the road completely traced for him, all because of those feelings. A tear had fallen from his eyes that night. He still remembered Harry's soft lips kissing it away. Oh God! How good it's been. Now almost seven years later, Draco could still feel these butterflies when Harry was around, when they kissed, when they fought, when they made up, when they made love, how torn and empty he feels when they are apart. Draco went back into his bed, next to his lover. As he covered himself a soft voice came to his ear.

"Draco, love, are you ok? What's on your mind?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me what's on yours," he responded in a whisper.

"Ok, you first," replied his lover, cercling Draco's waist with his strong arms.

"Ok, I was thinking about our first kiss, that cold raining night in the Shrieking Shack. And how we managed to stay together all that time through the war, and..."

"Shush! You dont need to think about the past. We both suffered, but now it's alright."

"Yes, it's alright. But a question remains, I never wanted to bother you with that but, why were you crying those nights?"

"Pain, Draco, pain."

"It was that hard for you, Sirius's death? I mean, I know he was your godfather but..."

"Not only that. I was in love with a you. I thought you would never love me back. You were on the other side, an enemy, and even if you actually loved me, you would still remain in the Dark Side. Your road was all set for you, you were supposed to marry another Slytherin and be marked by Voldemort after graduation. But it's alright now, because you're right beside me. You fought beside me and not against me. I loved you Draco, and that love caused me so much pain inside. I was totally lost and I had nobody who confided in. That night, when you told me that you began to care. I knew you were coming with me. Even if you said that you didn't know how to love, I thought in myself that I would teach you. But I believe that you already knew how to because..."

"Yes, love. I believe that I already loved you at this moment. You saved me from the biggest mistake of my life and I love you for that. I love you, Harry Potter."

"I love you too, Draco Malfoy, forever."

The lovers fell asleep in each others arms as the rain was still falling outside, with the realisation that rain can mean sadness and pain, but it can also mean love.

The end