The Reason

Chapter 7

'I wanted you to know that I love the way you laugh. I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away. I keep your photograph; I know it serves me well. I wanna hold you high and steal your pain. 'Cause I'm broken when I'm open, and I don't feel like I am strong enough, 'cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome, and I don't feel light when you're gone away.' "Broken" ~ Seether featuring Amy Lee

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Suddenly the memory was gone.

"Harry? Harry are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he responded unconvincingly.

"Oh, god, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't realize ... You didn't remember it, did you? God, I keep doing everything wrong! I'm so sorry, Harry."

"It's fine, Draco, you didn't know. Did you see a face?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Listen, I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, of course. We'll talk tomorrow."

What Draco didn't tell Harry was that he should have seen a face. The sire commanded Harry to look at him, and Harry had obeyed, but in that few seconds there was only darkness. Harry had obviously blocked the image - his mind had been fighting against Draco through the whole memory without Harry even knowing it - after all, it was a traumatic memory which warranted repression in its own right, and Harry had been ordered to forget it. The resistance had simply been too great, and it wasn't fair to Harry, anyway. So Draco's only hope was to wait for Harry to dream again, which didn't take long.

Instead of going up to bed, Harry stayed where he was in the chair, too shocked and exhausted to move, and he fell asleep there, staring morosely into the fire.

Draco had to wait through another dream about Ron discovering Harry's new curse and some "prophecy". Then there was a dream about Harry failing his N.E.W.T.s and being exiled from the wizarding world before he came to a vampire dream.

But when he did, he wasn't happy with what he found - it was a different dream. This one was in a dark corner of a Hogwarts hallway, and this time the sire was bulkier, but somehow less frightening. It was basically the same thing, the command to drink, which was heeded immediately this time. After Harry drank, however, the vampire bent down as if to drink Harry's blood, but he was stopped by a sharp voice - the same voice from the other dream.

"Goyle! You must not drink or you will reverse the effects of the process and risk ruining the plan. Let the boy go and leave."

"Now!" he barked when it became obvious that Goyle was not going to heed the orders without a protest. Goyle glared in the direction of the other voice, and then suddenly he was enveloped in a swirl of fog, and then he was gone.

"Now, Potter, you run along back up to your room, and see that you don't get caught. And erase all traces of this meeting from your memory."

He disappeared in a swirl of fog as well, and Harry turned and climbed back to his dormitory.

Draco pulled himself gently from Harry's mind and sighed. This complicated things. Now he didn't know which was the real version, or if either of them were. Or maybe - maybe both were real; maybe Harry had two sires. It would fit, it would probably make Harry even more evil, having the blood of two evil vampires in him. So Draco slipped back into Harry's mind and very gently guided Harry's mind back to the first dream. Since Harry was asleep, he provided less resistance, which would hopefully allow Draco to see the face of the vampire.

There was still blackness when Harry looked at him, but with a light prodding from Draco's mind, he brought the image back.

"Look at me, boy," the voice commanded, and Harry obeyed. He stared up into those icy, steel-gray eyes that showed no emotion, framed by white blond hair, that face that could have been so handsome if it weren't for the hatred and evil in it.

His father.

Chapter 8

'I thought I saw a man brought to life, he was warm, he came around like he was dignified, he showed me what it was to cry. Well you couldn't be that man I adored; you don't seem to know, don't seem to care what your heart is for, but I don't know him anymore. There's nothing where he used to lie, my conversation has run dry. That's what's going on, nothing's fine I'm torn, I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel; I'm cold and I am shamed lying naked on the floor. Illusion never changed into something real. I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn. You're a little late, I'm already torn. So I guess the fortune teller's tell us right, should have seen just what was there and not some holy light, but you crawled beneath my veins and now I don't care, I have no luck, I don't miss it all that much. Illusion never changed into something real. I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn.' "Torn" ~ Natalie Imbruglia

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Draco pushed the dream out of his mind, wishing he could block that image out of his memory as effectively as Harry could. It made sense, of course. He should have known the second he saw the dream just from the voice.

Hell, maybe he had known and he had done a little of his own mental blocking.

'Okay, forget it, it doesn't matter right now,' he told himself. 'What matters is helping Harry. So let's go through the dreams again.'

After going through both memories very carefully, Draco had established a theory. His father had been the first sire, which was why he had had to command Harry more than once. Obviously, he had put Harry under some type of hypnotism, but Harry had always been less susceptible to mind control than most, so the first time, he fought it. But then when Goyle came along for the second session, not only was Harry under the original spell, he was also partially under their control. So they needed Goyle first, and then his father, and they needed to start soon, before they decided to visit a third time.

His father.

He kept trying to push it out of his mind, and it kept coming back. He had reached a new plateau of evil, even for Lucius. Draco sat there in bed for hours, wishing it weren't true, wondering how he would ever tell Harry.

"Draco? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Harry. Go to sleep," he said coldly, and he broke the connection. He couldn't face Harry right now.

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"Harry? Are you okay? You keep looking over your shoulder like you're afraid someone is going to attack you," Hermione said softly.

"I'm fine."

Ron shook his head and remained silent.

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"Draco, where are you?"

"In bed," came the irritable reply. "Now leave me alone."

"No! You don't get to keep shutting me out - I get some control over this situation, okay? I don't know what's up with you, but snap out of it! We need to discuss the cure, okay? So get out of bed and go to your classes so that we can meet after Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

Draco sighed and reluctantly obeyed. He did need to talk to Harry, and it would look suspicious if he just appeared all of a sudden after being sick all day and missing all of his classes. Plus, he couldn't really afford to miss many more of his classes.

Harry was on his way to Potions when Draco caught up with him. Hermione and Ron were still at breakfast; Harry had left early, telling them that he had to finish his Potions essay before class (Hermione had shaken her head in disappointment, and Ron had grinned at him). Draco was glad that he was alone. The sooner he told Harry about the cure, the better, because he was going to need some time to get used to it.

"Harry, let's go in here and talk for a minute. We have time before Potions."

"Okay."

"Let's talk about your cure," Draco said when they were safely in the classroom. He had decided to go with the direct method. "What we have to do is summon your sire and have him drink your blood."

Harry didn't react exactly as he had hoped.

"What? Are you crazy? That's how they create vampires, not cure them! Do I really look that stupid? I must be, because I've trusted you for this long without any proof at all! God, I can't believe I was such an idiot!"

He turned to leave, but Draco grabbed his arm.

"Harry, you can look at the book I found it in, it's there in black and white. I swear I'm telling the truth."

"Then why are you doing this, helping me? Really, why? You could just end the spell that connects our minds, and be done with it. So why bother? What's in it for you?"

"Everything, Harry." He sighed. "I haven't been totally honest with you, you're right. There's more to my story."