Shiver

It was raining hard. He could hear it clearly, even in his Prefect room, deep down in the dungeons, and he didn't like it one bit. It was raining so hard that he would've thought the world was ending. That is, if he wasn't a Malfoy, and Malfoys never believed in such ridiculous things as the end of the world. But nonetheless, Draco Malfoy hated the rain. Especially tonight.

Draco was six when he started to hate the rain. He was in his room in Malfoy Manor, trying to sleep, but there was a thunderstorm and he was so cold and terrified he couldn't sleep. He wanted to go to his parents' room, which was then beside his, and have them comfort him and tell him that everything was going to be alright, because that's what parents do. Young Draco lay shivering a bit more, then finally decided to do just that.

Draco was halfway to his bedroom door when he heard them. His Mum and Dad--they were talking about him, just outside his bedroom. Draco froze.

"But Lucius, dear, there's a storm raging outside, for Merlin's sake! Don't you think I ought to comfort Draco? He must be really scared right now, all alone in the dark, when I, his mother, should have been there for him the whole time!" Narcissa almost shouted at her husband.

"Draco is a Malfoy, and as such, needs to learn to fear nothing. Nothing at all."

"Draco is a child, too, and as such, needs to be loved and taken care of. Especially by his mother." Narcissa mocked Lucius' words.

"I will not have my son softened by your mothering! He needs to learn to be independent."

"Independent?" Narcissa hissed, indignant. "He's going to grow up not having even learned how to love and be loved!"

"Then so be it. Trust me, this will benefit him in the future. He's going to learn to face his fears and be independent, and that's that." Lucius' voice was hard and final.

Draco was hurt. He couldn't believe that Lucius --the man he looked up to more than anyone else, the man he called his father-- could do this to him. He had been taught even before he could walk that Malfoys had certain standards to live up to. But he also learned that it was all a façade, a mask. And he had thought his father loved him. He had thought his father would come to him when Draco needed him. And Draco needed him now. Where was he?

Draco turned around and walked back to his bed. He lay there with his eyes shut tightly, trying hard not to cry, because Malfoys don't cry, but he couldn't stop the tears from coming.

Draco was hurt, yes, but he still loved his father. He believed Lucius was doing this for his own good, even though Draco cannot see what good lying in the darkwill bring him. But from then on, he hated the rain.

Even in Hogwarts Draco still hated the rain. It brought back too many painful memories. It mocked him, rubbed it in even more that there was nobody there for him during the cold, rainy nights when he wished with all his heart that there was somebody --anybody. But no, there was nobody.

Nobody except for Harry Potter, that is.

It was through Harry Potter that Draco learned to love the rain. Harry showed him that the rain was nothing to fear, because Harry was there to keep him safe and warm. And Draco did feel safe and warm when he was with Harry, especially during nights when the rain was pouring hard on the Hogwarts grounds.

Until now Draco still didn't know what Harry saw in him. But it was enough that Harry saw something--something that made him love Draco with every inch of his being. Draco felt it in everything Harry did. The way Harry smiled at him across the Great Hall during meals. The way Harry would make sure not to injure him whenever there was a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. (But that didn't mean he let Draco catch the snitch, because Harry sure as hell won't let that happen.) Hell, even the way Harry breathed told Draco how much Harry loved him.

And Draco loved Harry, too. Draco was sure he had never loved anyone as much as he loved Harry. He was willing to do anything for Harry.

So why didn't he?

Harry had asked him a week ago to join the side of Light. Draco had asked for some time to think about it, and Harry had given him all the time in the world, confident that the Slytherin would choose the right thing.

Apparently their views of what was right and what was wrong were completely different.

After a week of sleepless nights during which he thought about the risks Harry was asking him to do, Draco finally came to a decision. And that decision was not to join the Light, but to fight for the Dark Lord's side--alongside his father.

When he told Harry about his decision, Harry was hurt. He wanted Draco to be safe, and the only place he knew where Draco could be safe was with him. He didn't want Draco to serve the cold-blooded murderer who killed his parents. And he didn't know how he could fight the war, knowing that Draco was at the other side of the battle field. Just one curse from him could kill Draco, and he didn't want that. He didn't want Draco anywhere near the receiving end of any of the curses he fired.

But to Draco this was the right thing. If he turned his back on the Dark Lord and joined the Order of the Phoenix, the Death Eaters will hunt him, and he'll be a threat to Harry's safety. He didn't want that. He didn't want Harry any less safe than he was. And besides, he couldn't just forsake the Dark Lord like that. His family had served him for years, and he was taught loyalty to the Dark Lord before he even knew what the word loyalty meant. No matter how much he loved Harry, this was where his loyalties lay.

Harry was hurt when Draco told him that he was and would stay loyal to the Dark Lord. It was so plain in his eyes, and Draco wanted nothing more than to look away, but he couldn't. And when Harry began to speak after recovering from the initial shock, it was all Draco could do to keep from killing himself for hurting Harry that bad. The pain was so evident in Harry's voice that Draco could almost see Harry's heart breaking in front of him.

"So you want to serve him. And here I was thinking I could save you by trying to convince you to join our side. Don't you understand, Draco? He'll kill you once he's done with you. I don't want you to die like that. Hell, I don't want you to die at all, but anything's better than serving a power-hungry creature who isn't even as pure as he makes himself out to be," Harry said. There was no bitterness in Harry's voice, only pain.

"Harry, this is where I want to fight, and nothing could make me change my mind. Not even you."

Did he really mean that? At that time he thought he did, but right now, as he lay in his bed, he was starting to doubt himself.

"I thought you loved me, Draco. But apparently you love Voldemort more."

"No."

"That's what it looks like to me." Harry was not angry. He was merely stating a fact.

"If I didn't love you I won't be taking this risk."

"Don't you think I see that, Draco? But you can't see how much I love you that I'm willing to risk having Voldemort's whole army after you just so we'll be together and I can protect you so you won't be tortured and punished by that thing who calls itself you master!" cried Harry. By this time there were silent tears falling on Harry's pale cheeks.

There was a moment of silence, during which Harry was crying and Draco was trying hard not to. It was Harry who broke it.

"I can't fight this war knowing that there's someone I'm committed to fighting for the other side, Draco. Maybe it's time we parted." Draco knew Harry didn't just mean that they go on their separate ways for the night, but for their whole lives. Harry obviously didn't want this, but if he can't persuade Draco to join fight against Voldemort and not the fight for him, what other choice did he have?

With one last look into Draco's eyes, Harry turned and left.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Draco whispered, thinking Harry hadn't heard him.

Harry had heard him loud and clear.

Now Draco lay shivering in his room, much like he did that night many years ago when he was six. And just like that night, he was crying and wishing that there was somebody there with him.

What had he done to Harry? Harry was just another lost little boy like him who needed someone to love and to love him back. Why did he have to hurt Harry like that, when all Harry ever did to him was love him? And the pain he saw in Harry's eyes--no one deserved to feel that.

And besides, Harry did have a point. Harry could, indeed, kill Draco with just a few simple words and a wand directed the wrong way. And indeed, the Dark Lord was a torturer who used people as he pleased. The Dark Lord was a murderer. He killed many people, not just Harry's parents. But then, so have many of his Death Eaters, and even some people who fight for the side of Light.

Thinking back, Draco was beginning to realize that maybe Harry was right.

But no, he has made his decision, and it was too late to back out now. He just had to convince himself that what he was doing was right.

Draco was had been trying--and failing spectacularly--to do just that, when he heard the door creak. He turned around to see who came to visit him at this ungodly hour of the night.

What he saw made him change his mind completely.

Because at that moment there was nothing in Draco's world except for Harry standing at the threshold, with a look that told Draco that he was forgiven.