To Eat Death or Not To Eat Death?

Interlude: Breakfast in Bed and Draco's Apology

Draco was lying on the ground. in the middle of the Quittich field. His robes were soiled. He was holding a razor blade in one hand and blood was streaming down his other arm. He lay there staring at it, tears flowing freely down his face. There were other marks all over his arm. Harry was convinced Malfoy had gone mad and yet the morality part of him felt he needed to help him. He looked completely broke, and something about Malfoy looking like that appealed to him. *Just turn around. You didn't see anything.* Harry couldn't do it. He walked over to Malfoy carefully, firebolt still in one hand. At another glance Harry could see Draco carving more marks into his pale skin, crimson painting his flesh. Harry panicked.

"Malfoy," Harry gasped. "What are you doing?!"

Draco sat up. Shock apparent on his face, eyes wide with terror and were slightly unfocused.

"Malfoy, what are you doing to yourself? Come on. Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey."

This seemed to wake Draco from his daze. He pulled down his sleeves and shoved the razor in his pocket, still unaware he was crying.

"Potter, mind your own Goddamn business. You saw nothing! It's none of your business. So sod off!" Draco sneered, voice cracking from the tears still stuck in his throat.

Harry was in disbelief. Draco was committing suicide and he still had the audacity to tell Harry to sod off. "Draco," Harry started cautiously. "If we don't get you to Madam Pomfrey, you'll die."

"Potter, you won't be *my* hero," Draco snapped. He grabbed for his wand in his pocket and shoved up his sleeve, wincing at the sting of his abrupt actions. He touched his wand to each wound and whispered a few words. He stopped bleeding. "You happy now Potter," Draco spat as he awkwardly fell backwards a step. Harry stepped forward towards Draco. "No, stay back, I'm okay." Draco stood there trying to get his balance. "Potter, don't tell anyone about this." There was a pleading note in Draco's voice.

"How could I keep this to myself? You *need* help."

"Potter, my father cannot know. It is imperative he does *not* find out."

Harry's face held a bewildered expression. "Malfoy, he is the first person that should know. He's your father."

"No." Draco looked drained. It occurred to Harry he might have lost too much blood already.

"I think you've already lost too much. Look, we're running out of time and you're wasting it on arguing with me." Harry took Draco by the arm firmly. "Come on. You're sick and you need help. You can't deny that. On second thought you probably would."

Draco tried to stand his ground and look menacing. Harry tugged on his arm, the uncut one, and Draco stumbled backwards onto the ground in an attempt to stay put. That was it for Draco's self-control and the tears took over. He just let it fall free. Harry stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. *He cries. He is crying. It's Malfoy and he's balling like a little girl who's lost her dolly. Malfoy.* All Draco kept saying over and over is my father cannot know. My father cannot know. Then Draco went quiet. Harry realized he had passed out.

~*.*~

Draco opened his eyes to see scarlet and gold covers surrounding his wan body. He thought about finding Harry and screaming at him but he really didn't feel like it yet. He looked around the room. It was empty. No bloody Gryffindors lurking about. He sat up against the mahogany headboard. He looked down and tugged his shirt forward. It was a plain grey undershirt that must've been Harry's. Half of Draco was irritated someone, probably 'Potter' changed him, the other half was thankful he wasn't in damp and bloodied clothing and 'Potter' was considerate enough not to dress him in Gryffindor attire. He looked at his arm. He really went at it yesterday. Almost the entire thing was mutilated. A chill went down his spine and he pulled the covers up, reveling in the warmth they provided. They smelled good. Actually they smelled like Potter, not that Potter smelled bad. Just then Harry walked in carrying a tray of food.

"Good, I was hoping you were up. I brought you some food." Harry put the tray down on Draco's legs and sat down beside him. Draco stared at the food and the looked up to stared at Harry with an eyebrow raised. "I didn't poison it. I just knew you'd sleep through breakfast."

"So you brought me breakfast in bed... your bed. How romantic. I bet you're a heartbreaker, Potter," Draco said lacking his usual nasty tone. He sighed. "I guess all the Gryffindors know I'm here." Draco was nauseous at the thought.

"Actually no. I knew that could get back to your father, and it seems important all this doesn't. Just Ron, Hermione, and Seamus know."

"Seamus?"

"Yeah well someone had to confess to setting off dung bombs in our dormitory."

"Ugh. Will he tell anyone?"

"Probably Dean, but other than that no one, and Dean won't tell. Besides I didn't want anyone else to know I was smuggling you up to my bed. This isn't good for me either. Slytherin's in my bed. You in my bed. And you should eat. You don't look like you have been.

Draco took a small bite of scrambled egg. "Why did you do this? I'm your enemy."

"No, actually I'm yours. Voldemort is mine. You're just annoying."

"Well I hope I'm more than annoying. I work hard to get you in trouble."

"Sorry no, just annoying. And why *do* you work so hard to piss me off? I mean how long did it take to make those "Potter stinks" buttons? That was lame. And what about all those interviews to Rita Skeeter? You'd think you'd be sick of hearing about me, nonetheless talking about me. Or what about that time you were telling me you'd be hunting Sirius down if you were me. What was all that about? Honestly, you're worse than Collin Creevy."

Draco's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I didn't really see like that at the time," he muttered softly. He nibbled at his bacon.

"Actually, I thought you'd be throwing a fit well before now."

"I thought about it." Harry laughed. "I don't feel like it," Draco finished.

Harry pulled his legs up on to the bed, sitting with them crossed and watched Draco eat in silence. When Draco was done he set the tray on the nightstand and laid back down on his side, covers wrapped around him. His eyes were closed and just as Harry thought he was asleep again Draco spoke in a hushed frail voice. "Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry answered.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't hate you either."

"I wanted to be your friend."

"All you had to do was apologize."

It was quiet for awhile and Harry got up to go. Draco sat up and grabbed his hand. Harry stopped. "Don't leave. I don't want to be alone." Draco pulled Harry into the bed and under the covers.

Harry lay across from Draco looking at him. He looked so different from the day he first met him in Madam Malkin's Robe Shop. He wasn't much taller but he had filled out. He was thin, too thin, and his normally white-as-snow skin, was dulled like a grey sky. He looked tired. His spirit was broke and now he seemed to be clinging to Harry for help and support. How did Harry get himself into these situations? Hermione was right. He was too goddamned nosey. Harry wanted to turn Draco away. It was Malfoy after all, like Ron said. When Draco was over this he would be the same and go back to insults. But Harry wasn't like that. Even Malfoy needs a second chance. Some people need three sometimes. Besides, even Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin got along enough to make Hogwarts. Draco interrupted Harry's thought process.

"Harry?"

"Huh."

"Two things," Draco said carefully.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

Harry blinked in surprise. He didn't think those words were even in Draco's vocabulary. "You're sorry?"

Draco blushed. "Yeah I am. Don't get me wrong Potter. I'm still a heartless bastard and all. I'm just really out of it right now. But I'm sorry. You know... for everything."

Harry couldn't believe it. *Was this a trick? His father was in Voldemort's inner circle. Maybe this was a plot to capture him. But he already saw Malfoy's poor acting skills when he faked his Hippogriff wound. Draco just seemed so sincere, if that was even possible. He was really sick. He hadn't bothered asking what was wrong. He figured Draco never tell him that. And he didn't think Draco was a deatheater. No, actually he knew he wasn't. He had checked for the mark last yesterday when he had changed him. Holy Cricket, Malfoy's sorry.*

"Well I think you owe Hermione and Ron an apology, but as far as I go, um, its okay I guess. That's all you had to say." Harry paused for a second. "Wait, you said two things right? What's the other thing?"

Draco smiled meekly. "Are you cold? Because I'm freaking freezing."

Harry laughed and touched Draco's forehead with backside of his hand. "No, actually I'm not. Your forehead's warm. Let me feel your stomach."

Draco lifted his shirt. "Why do you want to feel my stomach?"

"Because normally stomachs aren't blazing hot like yours. It means you have a fever." Harry noticed how Draco jumped when he touched his stomach and that he was shivering. "Come here. We'll use body heat to get you warm."

"Okay. I'm trusting you Potter, because I know I'd be the one to start the funny business," Draco said with a smirk as they moved together. Harry spooned Draco's lithe frame.

"See that's the Draco I know," Harry said lightheartedly as he put his arms around Draco.

"Wait. Potter," Draco said uneasily as he pulled away from Harry.

"What"

"There's something you should know." Suddenly Draco got a dizzy spell.

"You can tell me later Draco." Harry pulled Draco back to his body. "For now just rest." Draco didn't argue.

"You won't leave right? Please don't leave."

"I might need to talk to Hermione about your fever."

"I don't want to be alone. Please Harry," Draco pleaded.

"You said my name." Draco looked at him wearing a blank expression. "I'll stay. Now rest."

"You sound like Madam Pomfrey," Draco said pulling Harry's arms tighter to him.

"I should. I spend enough time in the hospital wing. Now rest."

"But-"

"Draco. Rest."

"But-"

"Draco," Harry said in a warning tone.

"Okay, I just wanted to say thanks." After that the two fell asleep. Harry holding Draco and Draco clinging to Harry, and somehow as each fell asleep they knew this felt oddly right. It was the happiest Draco had genuinely been, in a long time.