Ambivalent Lucidity

The vast corridors of the Malfoy Manor had been empty for a month-after the initial shock of the Malfoy deaths, anything with the name slowly faded out of the press-and so when thunderous footfalls echoed from the white marble walls, Draco's eyes opened immediately. His tousled head rose from his goose down pillow, and he blinked wearily as he heard his name called. "Draco?" Cool feet fell into slippers before he padded across his large bedroom to the oak door, and he tugged the doorknob before poking his head out into the North Wing of the Manor.

Glances left and right bore no fruit, but the footsteps grew louder, and just as he decided that he was imagining it, a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Draco gave a terrible start and quickly took three steps backward. "Y-you?!"

-

Harry smiled at his two best friends as they walked abnormally closely together. Ron and Hermione had come together of the summer, and though Harry had always known that they were the most obvious couple in Hogwarts, he found that he rather resented being the third wheel in the relationship. He could never tell them, of course, and he felt like an arse for even thinking it, but watching Ron slide his hand into Hermione's and tug her closer made him wish...No, he had other issues; more important things to worry about. N.E.W.T.s were at the end of this year, and he was rather glad that he would not have to deal with a relationship. "Come on, you two," he said in a mock-cheerful tone. "The train's going to leave you!"

He took a moment to stare at the barrier between King's Cross and Platform Nine and Three-Quarters as though he were sizing it up. Ever since the "accident" at the beginning of his second year, he found he did not quite trust the wretched thing, so when he rushed at it with his cart, he winced even though he breezed right through. When his eyes opened, he smiled to see the platform teeming with his schoolmates, old and new, and he laughed raucously as a group consisting of Seamus, Dean, and Neville set off a round of Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs that caused all the birds in the area to squawk and ruffle their feathers. Seamus sent Harry a sly wink, and Harry merely beamed at him as Professor McGonagall rushed past to stop the chaos.

He did not pause to wonder why Minerva McGonagall was in London, being too amused as she hauled Seamus and Dean off by their ears, and he shook his head before pushing his cart up to the train so the attendant might load his things. Just before the clock struck eleven, he hopped aboard the scarlet train and headed for the back.

Coming aboard so late was a bad idea, he decided as he found all the compartments near the front to be full, and he pushed through the younger years as he scurried back. Just as he spotted Ron and Hermione entering a compartment ahead, he felt a warm presence on his shoulder, which at first glance appeared to be a pale hand. Spinning around, Harry felt an uncertain rage burst into his chest, and he took a defensive step back, hand already on his wand. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he snarled with narrowed, nasty eyes. He expected Draco to sneer, snort, make threats, but the very last thing he would have thought Draco to do occurred as the blonde not only stayed utterly silent, but moved to lean needily against his chest. "Wha-?!"

"Harry, there you are!" Ron exclaimed as he poked his head out into the corridor, but his happy expression rapidly melted into one of unbridled fury at the sight of their archnemesis cuddling up to Harry like a teddy bear. "What the bloody fuck is going on here?!" He came rampaging down the length of the train and roughly snatched Draco's shoulder, wand drawn and pressed to the base of that pale throat. "Just who do you think you are?!" he cried, and just as he was attempting to come up with the worst hex imaginable, his wand was grabbed away by Hermione.

"Ron, look," she snapped, and she waved her hand in front of Draco's face, getting no reaction. "He's not himself!" As though testing him, she wiggled her fingers in front of his eyes again, trying to get any sort of reaction out of him. When none came, she lifted a hand and touched his face for a moment before drawing back and slapping him lightly, the sound of cheek against palm echoing in the still air for a moment before Draco's eyes filled to the brim with salty tears. "O-oh..." Hermione whispered, and she seemed for a moment as though she might retreat when McGonagall appeared out of nowhere.

"Miss Granger!" she yelped, and she quickly placed herself between the girl and a sobbing Draco, who was trying in an almost violent frenzy to get to Harry, who had made a retreat behind Ron. "Ten points will be deducted from Gryffindor when we arrive! Now, run along with Mr. Weasley-I must discuss something with Mr. Potter alone!" Something about her tone caused Hermione and Ron to flee unquestioningly, which opened the path for Draco to crush himself against the Boy Who Lived. Harry gave a strangled yell and looked desperately to his Head of House, who took him by the arm and hauled both boys into an empty compartment at the end of the train. "I'm sorry for the shock, Harry," she sighed, sounding exhausted, and she gestured to the seat across from her own. "Take a seat, and mind Draco's arms..."

Harry sat down with a lapful of blonde, and he looked over to Minerva with a pained expression. "Professor, excuse me, but what the hell is going on?" he hissed as Draco curled around him and cried warm tears onto his shoulder.

She frowned and moved over to the pair, pulling Draco back from Harry and using her scarf to dry his tears. "Now, now...He's here," she whispered comfortingly, and she took one of Harry's hands to lie it on Draco's wrist. "Just hold him there, Mr. Potter, and let me say before I explain that I, for one, was completely against this idea, but there was, apparently, no other way. Look into his eyes, Harry, and tell me what you see."

Harry groaned and diverted his gaze to Draco's, half-expecting a sneer or a sudden burst of laughter, but instead finding nothing but tears. There was no real expression, no malice, no anything like Harry had ever seen before, but upon further inspection, he found he was looking at an expression and understanding of one basic instict: need. "...Professor, what's wrong with him?" he asked quietly, turning his eyes from Draco and giving his Head of House a suspicious gaze. "And why is he responding to me, but not Hermione?"

McGonagall sat in silent solemnity for a few moments, thinking before she placed her hand in the middle of Draco's back and nudged him closer to Harry, causing the blonde to bury his nose against the tendons in the Gryffindor's neck. The hair on the back of Harry's neck rose, and he made a point of not lying his hands anywhere on Draco's body. "At the end of the school year," Minerva began, "Lucius Malfoy died in Azkaban. Narcissa, Draco's mother, summoned Draco home to tell him the news, but by the time Draco arrived in Wiltshire, Narcissa wasn't lucid, and before he could do anything, she shot herself with, strangely, a Muggle gun right in front of him. He was left in the estate by himself for the summer, and though he was sane after the funerals, something occurred over the holiday that cannot yet be explained. Draco developed Multiple Personality Disorder, likely because of trauma, but no one is yet sure. He has displayed several personalities since he was admitted to St. Mungo's, but not one would respond to anything at all, until the Daily Prophet ran a story on you mid-August. Your picture was in the article, and Draco attached himself to it. He won't respond to anything else yet...You notice he is solely focussed on you." She sighed and looked out the window for a moment, allowing Harry to absorb some of the information before she told him how it was relevant to him. "Ever since the article ran, he has been sort of...stuck in this personality, and since you are the only person he responds to, well...St. Mungo's and the school's Board of Governors have decided that Draco is to be placed under your care. It is, they say, the only conceivable way he could make any sort of recovery."

"Now hold on a minute!" Harry snapped immediately, and he made a futile attempt to shove Draco off. "They can't just volunteer me for this! Why can't someone dress up as me at St. Mungo's or something? What if I don't want to?!" he cried, throwing his arms up in the air and slumping against the back of the seat.

"They tried everything, Mr. Potter. Draco...is your charge. We fully expect you to be able to do this! You will be excused from classes as needed as long as you keep up, and-"

Harry shook his head and shoved Draco very, very hard, resulting in the other to take a nasty tumble to the floor. Harry's eyes widened as Draco hit the ground and stared up at him, face twitching until he let loose with a wail that would rival that of a crucifixion victim. "Oh, for God's sake," Harry grumbled angrily, and he moved to kneel beside his 'charge,' taking his shoulder in one hand. "I'm sorry, come on! You don't have to have such a fit..." He slid both hands under Draco's arms and lifted him to his feet, eyes rolling as the parasite reattached itself to his chest. "How can I take care of him when he can't even care for himself?! He's pathetic!"

McGonagall sighed and reached out to touch Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I fully expect you to be able to figure that out. Now, his schedule has been tweaked to match yours, and he will be staying in your dormitory. It is up to you to make sure no one else bullies him, as well...That wouldn't do at all." She gave his shoulder a squeeze before opening the door of the compartment. "Go to your friends, Harry...We are counting on you." With that, she Apparated.

Confused and enraged, Harry half-dragged Draco off to the compartment they would share with Ron and Hermione, finding the two of them deep in discussion. "Sorry, guys," Harry groaned as he pulled Draco inside and shut the door. "The damned bastard made himself crazy to spite me, I'm sure!" He flopped down in the seat across from his friends and growled lowly as Draco crept into his lap. There were a few moments of silence before Ron cleared his throat and coughed a little.

"So er...What's the deal?" he asked, pointing at Malfoy with a look of disdain.

Harry rolled his eyes and began to explain in a nasty tone, though his hands possessed an almost unnatural gentleness as he brushed clinging blonde hair from Draco's damp cheeks. As he told them nearly word-for-word what McGonagall had explained to him, it grew dark outside and lightning began to flash all around the train. Draco held more tightly to Harry, whose hands moved to rest on his back, just as Harry finished explaining. "So basically I have to keep him, like some pet or something...like a dog that won't stop chewing up your shoes."

Hermione inspected Harry, watching him interact in silence with the creature she was not sure she could call Draco, and as they moved and got comfortable in an uncomfortable situation, she was certain that she saw a flicker of concern in Harry's face. "Well, at least he isn't being insufferable, right?" she asked. "I mean, he's not really Malfoy. He's...just someone else." She gave a resolute nod as she noticed that Harry's 'pet' had fallen asleep in his arms, and as lightning littered the countryside and harsh rain lashed against the windows, she nearly smiled as Harry only held Draco tighter.

"Harry? Harry, wake up!"

"Come on! Get up!"

Harry groaned and swatted his hand at the noise, but when he realised that he had fallen asleep, he gave a start and green eyes shot open, registering first that the voices had been those of his friends. As the lights flickered ominously, he suddenly recalled the task that had been assigned, and that there was a distinct lack of Draco in his arms. "Draco?" he asked in a raspy voice-when had he fallen asleep anyway?-and a tiny whimper from the corner drew his eyes to the sight of the blonde curl up in a ball and trembling. The lights went out completely, and Harry stumbled over to Draco, who was illuminated by an electric flash outside. "You're all right, damn it," he sighed, and as he helped Draco back up onto the seat and stroked his wrist lightly, it dawned on him that the train was stopped. "What's going on, Ron?"

"The train broke down...They said it shouldn't take long at all to fix...We've been down about ten minutes," Ron murmured grimly. Harry could hardly make out his form in the dark, and he pulled his wand to illuminate the compartment, however feeble it was. "Malfoy woke up just a minute ago and had some sort of fit..." Another lightning strike and earsplitting thunder caused Draco to burst into sobs against Harry's chest, and Ron winced at the sight. "Sick."

Hermione shot Ron a nasty look before moving across the compartment to sit beside Harry. "Are you sure this is something you can handle?" she asked quietly, frowning as Harry shook his head and sighed as though he had the weight of all Hogwarts resting on his shoulders. 'I'll help, Harry...As much as I can, I'll help you."

Harry could have kissed her then, but he shook his head. "No, Hermione, he's my responsibility. You shouldn't suffer because of it." His expression softened as Draco's face rubbed gently against his neck, breath slowing as he eased into slumber, and Harry sighed. "He's like a piece of glass," he muttered, and he snapped his fingers. "One wrong touch and he cracks. What am I going to do if something happens?" His own words surprised him; he could feel his friends gaping at his words, but Hermione gave him a one-armed hug before moving back to her own seat.

"You're admirable, Harry," she stated while she moved to lie her head in Ron's lap. "But don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it." Harry nodded quietly and lay his wand down, the light going out to leave them in a deep darkness. He could hear Ron and Hermione shift a little, then just the sound of their breathing, and he found himself feeling jealous again.

This emotion was cut off shortly as Draco's hand slipped up Harry's chest to his neck, which he felt with chilly fingertips. Gooseflesh rose on Harry's arms, and he leaned down so his lips were close to Draco's ear. "Go back to sleep...You should rest before the rest of Gryffindor finds out about you." His words were hardly louder than a breath, and Draco's fingers curled tightly into his shirt for a moment before slackening. Moments later, soft snores parted Draco's lips, and Harry leaned his head back against the cushion of the seat, catching glimpses of his friends with every lightning strike. The train suddenly lurched slightly, the lights came back on, and they were moving again.

Just as Harry was drifting off, he felt Draco give a terrible start, and he thought nothing of it until Draco's hands tightened on his wrists-so tight that he cried out in pain. "Draco, what the hell?" he growled, trying to jerk his wrists back, but Draco let loose with a horrific yell that shook the napping Hermione right off her seat.

"No, no, NO!" Draco screeched, and he clamped his hands over his ears, fingernails tainted pink with blood from Harry's arms. "Shut up, SHUT UP!" Hermione hurried over and grabbed Draco's hands as he began to rip at his hair, and Harry, bleeding from the fingernail wounds, grabbed the blonde's face and forced him to look at him. "I-I know...I know you..."

"You're all right," Harry whispered fervently, and he watched Draco's eyes grow large before they fell closed and he shivered, wringing his hands. Ron gave Harry a horrified look and shook his head as his best friend slowly stroked their most hated foe's hair, like he was some sort of cat. Ron hated cats.

It was not a moment too soon when the train pulled into Hogsmeade station. For the rest of the train ride, Draco wringed his hands and murmured to himself, to someone no one else saw, and occasionally gave a sharp yell, and by the time the train came to a complete stop, Harry was so angry he could not think straight. A furious scowl tainted his features as he dragged the trembling and muttering Draco through the train, ignoring the copious stares directed to them from their classmates. "Come on!" Harry snapped as Draco came to a screeching halt outside the carriages, and he tugged his arm. "What is it?!"

Slate eyes were focussed not on the carriages, but what they were drawn by, and his hands grasped Harry's arm in terror. "What?" Harry asked, following Draco's gaze, then it hit him with a nasty jolt. Draco had never seen death before his mother killed himself-the thestrals were totally new. "Those are the thestrals we studied fifth year," Harry claimed quietly, and he tugged Draco into a slow walk. "They won't hurt you." McGonagall said that Narcissa had committed suicide by shooting herself, and Harry wondered why she chose a Muggle weapon. It was a nasty way to die, by bullet, but the thoughts escaped his mind as they clambered onto the carriage.

Draco did not curl up on Harry's lap, but sat beside him with his head down, shoulders touching, and Harry felt sorry for him then. When the carriage started up the rocky road to the castle, Draco looked solemnly up to Harry, his eyes hollow, sunken...He looked so much older than seventeen. Hermione and Ron, who shared the carriage with them, exchanged exasperated looks-they were no happier about this arrangement than Harry himself-but they did nothing. What could they do? Harry's arm slid around the Slytherin's shoulders and gave him a squeeze before he let the arm fall. "What am I going to do with you?" Harry asked in such a whisper that Draco scarcely heard him. The blonde looked up and frowned, closing his eyes and leaning hard against Harry.

Ron could not help but glare at Malfoy, his eyes smouldering with utter loathing. He did not see the piteous gaze in Harry's eyes-no, he saw his greatest foe stealing his best friend from him effortlessly-and it just was not fair. He was Harry's first friend, not Malfoy, yet they looked as though they had always been so comfortable. Hermione, however, saw nothing but unintended tenderness in Harry's manner, knowing that he did not mean it to be public. Draco looked so lost against Harry, as though he had taken the Dementor's Kiss, and she even felt bad for the both of them.

When they reached the castle, Harry was careful not to catch anyone's eye, instead leading Draco quietly through the crowd by his wrist. His eyes remained glued to the ground as he hurried into the Great Hall, which was mainly empty, and he sat Draco down with him at the end of the Gryffindor table. The quiet in the hall was short-lived as hundreds of students poured in, and when it was seen that not only was Draco Malfoy sitting at the Gryffindor table, but that he was with Harry, the whispers threatened to deafen Harry's ears. He glanced up to see a malicious Snape glaring at him disapprovingly-he must not have liked this idea, either-and he sneered back at him even as Draco pressed very close.

The rumours only quieted when McGonagall toted in the stool and old Sorting hat, which was placed on the stool in the centre of the room. The first years filed in, looking frightened, and there were the obligatory points at Harry before the brim of the Hat ripped wide and it began to sing.

And now begin the Sorting!

Harry shot Ron a wary look-the Sorting Hat had predicted danger every year, but this year, it sounded less severe. Was Voldemort's power waning? Surely not...As McGonagall's voice sang out the names of the first years who were to be Sorted, Harry frowned as Draco's hand slipped into his, and he could see terrible worry in Draco's forehead. He was worried, too.

The Sorting was swift, and Dumbledore stood before the student body, looking tired but cheery. "Friends, students, welcome back! For the new and old, I present what never grows old-let the feast begin!" And with the raising of his arms, food appeared out of nowhere, and everyone's concerns were lost in food.