Not Just an Empty Emotion

Chapter Three-Sixty Seconds

Draco had been quite right when he had thought that Harry would avoid him after the

welcome feast incident. The first week of term went by without the two boys clapping eyes on each other at all. In Potions both carefully averted their eyes, and concentrated on their potion making.

The first Friday of term dawned wet and cold. As Harry stepped into the Gryffindor common room the first thing he saw was a gaggle of sixth years gathered around the notice board.

"What's happened?" he asked Dean Thomas.

"Greenhouse four's flooded. Sprout's called this morning's Herbology lesson off. We have to sit with the third years who aren't doing Care of Magical Creatures because they're afraid their hair'll get damp," Dean pulled a face as he said this.

"Oh," a small voice said. It was Neville, looking rather dispirited, "I wanted to tell Professor Sprout what I got for Herbology in my OWLs..." his voice trailed off.

"Go on Neville," urged Harry, "what did you get?"

"Um...well, I got, um...an 'E'," he finished in a small voice.

"Neville! Well done!" Harry exclaimed, while Dean clapped him on the back to congratulate him. Neville went beetroot red.

"Luna gave me some special fertiliser for my Mimbulus Mibletonia as a well done present! Do you want to see?"

"Er," said Harry, "OK..." not at all sure weather he wanted to or not.

***

Ten minutes later Harry was regretting seeing the new fertiliser. It smelled like a cross between a troll and heavily scented dragon dung. He had almost passed out when he smelt it. Now it was clinging to his clothes and making him feel very sick. At first people had skirted him in the corridors because of it, until Hermione had performed a quick-clean jinx on him. Now you could only smell it if you were really close. Or if you were Harry.

After a hurried breakfast the Gryffindor fifth years hastened up to the fourth four and into classroom 18. About twenty third years were running riot. The noise levels were tremendous, several desks were upturned, and giant gold and blue bubbles were skirting the walls and people. Occasionally one would pop, covering everyone within a four-foot radius with slimy silver goo.

Hermione was livid. Slamming the classroom door behind her she screamed "Finite Incantatem!" At once the mess disappeared. Storming up to the from of the room behind the teacher's desk she got into her flow, "What the Hell do you think you're doing? You're in a classroom! If you want to be childish do it in your own dorms! I'm in charge now, and if I see one more spell performed that shouldn't be I will put you all in detention, OK? It's not my choice to be looking after you!" she looked so threatening that even Ron was cowering. Hermione carried on with her lecture as the rest of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff sixth years filed into the room.

Harry didn't feel like sitting here with an irate Hermione for a double period. He stood up and said to Ron, "Look, I've got a bit of a headache. I'm going to go to the Hospital Wing. Tell Heremione, will you?"

Ron opened his mouth in protest, but Harry was already gone.

He had no intention of going to the Hospital Wing. He didn't even have a headache. He was shattered though ... He had an idea in his head of just going back to bed. He'd been having more dreams over the last few nights, all of them featuring Malfoy trying to tell him something, but Harry not listening. It always ended up in a duel between the two boys, during which Harry's scar would burn and he would wake up with the pain.

He was actually quite pissed off with Malfoy (more than normal) when he woke up. The dreams the blond interrupted were usually nice ones.

A strong icy breath of wind forced itself between a crack in one of the long, high windows along the corridor he was walking. Immediately the lamps flickered, spat and died. Harry was reminded forcefully of his journey on the Hogwarts Express in his third year when the train was invaded by Dementors.... it couldn't be though, he reasoned with himself, they can't get past the gates...and I don't feel suicidal either.

He took out his wand to light it; he knew it would be a few minutes before the lamps re-lit themselves.

He whispered "Lum-"

Crash

He collided with something very solid. Both Harry and whatever he had crashed into fell onto the stone floor with an "Oof!" of breath.

"Lumos!" said two people at the same time.

Directing the beam of his wand to what he assumed would be the face of whoever it was he rubbed his grazed hand on his robes to ease the stinging.

A beam was directed into his own face. Once again, for the second time in a week they realised simultaneously that they were looking into each other's faces. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

"Shit," Harry muttered, painfully aware of his glowing cheeks. He remembered his dreams, especially the one where he'd woken up aroused. He got up angrily and started to walk away. "Watch where you're going next time-" he hissed at the other boy.

"Potter! Wait!"

Huh? Why should Harry wait? It was Malfoy's fault. He was the one who's appeared from no-where. When the torches were lit there had been no one at all down that corridor. "Why should I? No." He said forcefully.

"Potter, please?" Malfoy was going red, probably with the effort of being polite for once...

"Why?" Harry repeated.

"Because... I ...come in here Potter," Malfoy held open a classroom door. Harry didn't want to. He hesitated; Malfoy was the enemy, yet...he was eager to find out why Malfoy didn't seem to hate him any more.

"You've got sixty seconds Malfoy."

Malfoy nodded. As he closed the door behind them the lights in the corridor flicked back into life.

"I want ...I mean, I need you to listen to me. You're the only one I can talk to."

"And why's that?" Harry said at once.

"Because...you've got the right fight." His plan had gone out of the window. He hadn't meant to talk to Potter so soon, but the way Potter was behaving it wasn't looking as though he would get another chance too soon...he had to grab it while he could.

"What? What does that mean?"
"Against You-Know-Who!"

"What? But you've always...oh no Malfoy. I'm not falling for that one. You're the son of a Death Eater so, I'm sorry, but if Voldemort wants to get information about me he's going to have to think of a smarter plan. I'm not stupid."

Draco hesitated, he'd spent so long thinking about this, about what he was going to say, making up irrelevant plans which he no longer needed, but now it came to it, he wasn't sure he could tell Potter.

The cut on his hand he had as a souvenir from his recent fall pained him. As though through flashes of a Muggle camera Draco saw again, and experience the pain from the torture he'd been put through that summer. In less than a second it was gone. But it had made up his mind for him.

"Potter, I-I have no father." He said helplessly.

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "That's bullshit! Lucius Malfoy you prick! I don't need to listen to this if you're just here to waste my time-"

"Stop saying 'what?' like that!" Draco was getting irritated.

"Well if you'd just explain-"

"I'm trying! It's difficult. I don't know where to start! You need to listen though. Really. I-I guess it's when the summer holiday's ended, and I went home to my mother..."

And he told Harry everything. About talking to his mother, how he'd felt when his father had come home, the 'lessons', how they made him physically sick, and about his mother's book.

When he'd finished Harry stared at him, not sure what to think. "What's all this got to do with me though?" He asked finally.

"Damn, Potter! I thought that was obvious! I've never met a Muggle, but... I-I've met you, and-I know you're not a Muggle!" He added hurriedly, seeing the look on Harry's face, "But, I just...I feel like I've changed. Yeah, I hate Muggles, and Mudbloods too but only because they come from Muggles! It's not like You-know-Who and the Death Eater's think. The reason they hate the Muggles is purely racial-"

"Oh, and hating Muggles isn't?" Harry said sarcastically. This was just random rubbish Malfoy was talking.

"No, I mean, well, you've read the books. About how the Muggles tried to burn us at the stake in the Middle Ages." Malfoy kept the desperate tone out of his voice as much as he could. Harry remembered the History of Magic homework he'd done under his sheets at the Dursley's house..." That's why I hate them. Because they hate us. I don't hate them just because they're different. But my Father does. That's the difference. I realise that the Middle Ages were a long time ago, but...well...because I'm a Pure Blood my ancestors go back to well before the Middle Ages, and some of them were tortured. Some of them were drowned some of them were beaten...they weren't all burned you know...."He shuddered.

"So, remind me again what it is that's changed your mind?"

"This summer. Learning what my Father wants me to do, learning what Muggles are like, opening up to my mother, the book and.... you" Malfoy finished in a small voice.

Harry was silent for a second, then, "Bullshit! You expect me to really believe that you've changed? People don't change like that Malfoy! Least of all you! You've always been a cruel bastard, you've always hated me, always hated Muggles and always hated Muggle-borns!"

"NO! Well, yes, I suppose that's true. But people can change. The way I've behaved the last five years...yes I was cruel, and yes, I was evil. Because I'd been brought up like that. It was the only way I knew. I didn't know any different. Now I do-"

"These are just crap excuses Malfoy!"

"They're not! Listen to me?! It's like you. For eleven years you acted Muggle, for all intents and purposes you were Muggle. Because you didn't know any different. If you'd known about being a wizard you would never have behaved like a Muggle. But then you learned about Our World and you changed. You knew that you had to be a wizard, because that was what you were, you were not a Muggle. See, with me it's like that, but I was always brought up as a Muggle hater. This summer I've learned about Muggles, and their suffering because of the ways people like my father have treated them! That's what made me change! Learning about something new, which you cannot avoid because you know that's where you belong. I was only ever cruel because that's the only thing I knew. Just like the only thing you knew was to be Muggle. Doubtless I'll still have some evil streaks in me, but I can't change too much at once you know."

Silence greeted this speech. Harry was speechless. He couldn't say anything. Everything Malfoy said made sense yet...how could he be sure?

"How do I know you aren't lying, Malfoy?" He asked, "How can I be 100% certain you're telling me the whole truth?"

"You can't. There's no way I will ever be able to prove it, unless you give me Veritaserum...The only thing I can do is to protect you."
"Protect me? I've got plenty of people to protect me thanks! Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Ron, Hermione. Myself." He added as an afterthought.

"Of course you do. And they do a very good job at that. I'm not suggesting that I take their place, but what is it we've always been told? Ah, yes: Prevention is better than Cure."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm on the inside Potter. I hear things. Things that could save your life, and Muggles lives. My father still trusts me, still thinks I'm his loyal sadistic son... he writes me letters Potter. He doesn't tell me everything. He's not that stupid. He writes enough though. And sometimes he gets me to help him." Malfoy sounded ashamed, " and I hate him for that. For using me. Even then I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stop it. I didn't know how. So, if you can trust me then I can save you."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I've just explained, Potter! But if you don't want to then fine, I'll just have to-"

"But you're a Slytherin! I can't trust you, can I! The only way I could trust you is if Dumbledore does so-"

"No. I'm not going to see Dumbledore. This is a private thing between you and me. You are the only one I can talk to. For-for now anyway. And as for me being Slytherin, that doesn't matter. We're not all bad."

"Er, yes you are!"

"Snape's a Slytherin. And you trust him. You trust him because Dumbledore trusts him. You pretend not to trust him, you pretend to hate him, but deep down, you trust him."

"I do hate Snape! But...yes. Yes I do trust him. How do you know Dumbleodre trusts Snape?"
"I have my way's Potter. It's because I'm on your side now. Please, Potter, let me prove it."

"It's OK. I still want you to prove it but...I trust you.... for now." He didn't know why he believed the boy. But somehow, he knew Malfoy was telling the truth. He'd never seen this side of Malfoy before. He was showing just how vulnerable he was...this wasn't an act either. The boy was sincere. He knew it was out of character for Malfoy, though he knew that everyone had two sides he'd always thought Malfoy was the exception. Yet, here he was, spilling his heart out to Harry. Harry realised that this was the side of Malfoy that needed to escape occasionally, and even then only in private and to a trusted confidante. The strong determine unwavering side of him was...well...normal Malfoy. But why had he crumbled so quickly? And why to Harry? Harry didn't know why, and probably never would, but right now all he knew was that, unbelievable though it was, Malfoy had convinced him that he was trustworthy.

"Thank-you, Potter," Malfoy whispered.

Harry moved forwards and was about to leave the room when he turned. Malfoy had his hand extended. Harry looked at Malfoy's pale face before taking it, and they shook hands.

They were so close.

Harry looked into the other boy's eyes. He had to stop himself from yelling. Behind the eyes, which he knew should be silver grey, were shadows. Dark shadows that grew red and then died, before being reborn. Harry knew what it was: Voldemort was in Malfoy's thoughts. It was the same thing which had happened to Harry last year, which Dumbledore had seen as he looked at Harry.

Still with their hands clasped Harry said, "Malfoy..."

"It's OK. I know. I can see what he's thinking. He's been there for weeks. I know practically every emotion he feels." He saw the terrified look on Harry's face, "Oh, don't worry. He can't see what I'm thinking. He hasn't recognised the bond yet..."

"But.... Malfoy! How do you know? You've got to find a way of getting rid of it! I can't get rid of it, my scar will always be there connecting us but...shit Malfoy how did that happen?"

"Snape told me. He noticed it when I was in his office on Tuesday about my Occlumency; he said it was because...Voldemort has been living in the Manor over the summer. In my quarters."

Harry gasped. Voldemort was living in Lucius Malfoy's Manor?! But the information was useless, Snape had told Malfoy that, so would have told Dumbledore as well, and there would be nothing that the Order could do anyway, because of the spells on the Manor.

And since when did Malfoy learn Occlumency! That wasn't important right now though. It would have to wait.

Malfoy was paler than normal. The Shadows were glowing red again, and Malfoy started to bend over suddenly. Clutching his chest. There was nothing Harry could do. Malfoy was in front of him, panting hard with the pain, bent double. His face contorted with pain.

Malfoy gave a shriek of agony and then it was gone. Harry steadied Malfoy to stop him from falling.

"What was it?" He asked quietly.

"He's annoyed. Says-says things aren't happening fast enough." Malfoy panted back, the pain in his heart receding now. "I wish I could stop it."

Malfoy's head was bent down towards his chest. Harry felt a rush of emotion. He knew how Malfoy felt. Even he still wasn't used to the experience. It must be worse for him though, Harry thought, because he can do Occlumency.... it's because he's been so close to Voldemort He suddenly felt a rush of hatred towards Lucius Malfoy, for letting this happen to his son. If Malfoy really was on Harry's side now...it looked as though Harry would have to do some protecting of his own.

Then, something Harry hadn't quite registered invaded Harry's thoughts.

"Malfoy," he said, urgently, "When you saw he's been there fore weeks, could you be a bit more precise?"

"I suppose...about a week after my father came back from Azkaban," he moaned,

"Of course, " said Harry, " He'd have taken Voldemort back to the Manor with him, and then he would have been so close to you that it affected you...but it took time to become a proper connection between you...I haven't had any of those...images since just before my Birthday. That's about the same time. You must have invaded our bond, and intercepted all the images or something! Shit...." He understood now.

He took Malfoy's head in his hands and raised it, so that they were eye to eye. They were closer than ever, staring into each other's eyes. The ugly shadows, dancing behind Malfoy's otherwise handsome eyes still visible. Malfoy began to fall forward slowly. Harry caught him in his arms to stop the boy from collapsing. Steadied, Malfoy raised his head.

"Thank-you," he whispered gently. They were so close his lips brushed Harry's. Each could feel the others heartbeat, as well as their own, thumping madly, fighting for escape...yet...

"It was a...pleasure," Harry whispered back. Again their lips touched.

They pulled each other into a kiss. Both were nervous. Harry opened his mouth to allow Malfoy's tongue to slip next to his own. The kiss got deeper. Harry's knees went weak; both boys were now supporting each other. Harry gave a moan.
In both of their heads explosions were going on. Guilt. Fright. Worry. Both felt them all. But most powerful of all was the sheer pleasure.

Malfoy ran his hands through Harry's soft hair and licked his lip. Slowly and gently, he began to run his teeth along Harry's lower lip. Biting occasionally, and nibbling. The pleasure for both was intense.

Harry sensed, rather than saw, the shadows in the depths of Draco Malfoy's eyes disappear. Voldemort was gone. It was this that truly made Harry realise that Malfoy had changed.

Harry had never known kissing could bring this much pleasure...his whole body was tingling as Malfoy's tongue met his own again.

Harry detached himself from Malfoy's mouth, afraid of what he'd done. He knew neither of them had intended that to happen. It was a total accident. But he knew it shouldn't have happened.

Breathing heavily, his lips swollen, Harry whispered, "I'm so sorry," and fled from the room.