Underjoyed

Underjoyed

Chapter One: Umbrella

By Shade

The sky outside was darkening. Clouds obscured a sky Draco couldn't quite remember ever being blue. It was late afternoon but certainly not time for nightfall, though that seemed to make little difference these days.

There was a garden outside, though no flowers had bloomed. The camellia and rosebushes were withered, dry, brown husks of former beauty, surrounded by weeds and thorns. Nothing was alive there, not even the usual garden pests. The field that stretched out before his window was just as dry and dead. The dirty, cloudy window at Draco's bedside hardly did it justice.

Oh the irony of it all. Of all the times he had belittled Weasley in his past, he was now hiding out in this pathetic excuse for a house now, two dilapidated stories above a system of tunnels even more disgusting than the filth that could be found here. This wasn't home. He couldn't go home.

It's another great day to be here kept alive,

Right now he should be on Platform 9 3/4. He should have been sitting in a compartment with Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy; conversing with a slew of other Slytherins. He could never go back there now, though, and he knew it.

It was much too late to turn around now.

Draco would never admit it, but deep down he knew he was in over his head. He couldn't very well betray his family. They would most certainly be killed and he would follow soon after. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was not known for his forgiveness.

And I'm too afraid to even go outside,

What would happen if he were to leave? Draco folded his arms upon the windowsill and rested his head over them. Would his parents really be killed? At times like these the Dark Lord needed all the help he could get. He had even gone to such lengths as to free the imprisoned Death Eaters from Azkaban. His father wouldn't disobey his master as his son had and, though his mother might be upset, Draco couldn't imagine her disobeying Lucius. Did he know anything of importance, anything that could harm any Death Eater plans? No. He was useless, wasn't he? There was nothing he could be of use for here and there was no way he could leave. It was the time when his usefulness came that frightened him and, if he left now, where would he go? Everyone knew what he had done. Everyone else knew what he hadn't done. No one would welcome him back now. The only person he might have been able to trust was dead now. At least here he had somewhere to stay; a future, even if it might be a terrible one.

For fear I might be left there paralyzed.

There was a clash of thunder outside that caused Draco to jump. Lightning touched down in the field nearby and a sudden downpour began.

Draco pulled away from the window and curled up on his side. The mattress was uncomfortable. He suspected it was an old muggle creation of straw. It smelled foul and, for the longest time, he had refused to sleep on it at all. Eventually he had been forced to give up a fraction of his pride. The bed, no matter how disgusting, was ultimately much more comfortable than the floor.

This was where he spent most of his time these days. Every so often another Death Eater or two would share the room with him but they often had assignments or lives to carry on outside of this cesspool.

Water began to leak in from the ceiling and Draco cursed and drew up tighter. He wanted his old room with its warm bed and dry floors. He wanted to be in the Great Hall right now, at the feast and sorting. He wanted his final year to be spent enjoying himself, getting under Potter's skin...

Potter. Oh, he missed Potter most of all.

It's sad when the rain falls,

When it makes no sound.

When it falls out of order,

When you're not around.

Potter had been something he could depend on. Despite what might transpire in his life, Potter was always there to pick on, always trying to do something heroic. Potter was a constant. Him and his idiot friends. Potter had never been so much his enemy as a rival. Now that probably wasn't the case.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. Of all the people to miss...

Shadows crept out from the corners of the small room. Draco reached for a blanket or a pillow that wasn't there. When neither proved handy he pressed his back to the wall and then drew in his knees again.

It's worse when the night falls,

When I hide underground.

Had he always been such a coward? Most certainly not! Draco glared at the door through the dark room. He wasn't a coward! He had never been one and most certainly wasn't now!

Draco closed his eyes again. What did it matter now? There was no one to impress, not in this empty room. He didn't have to prove a damn thing to anyone but himself... and he wasn't buying it...

"I'm useless," he whispered into the darkness.

When I live my disorders.

He had been such an idiot to think anyone had really believed he could finish off Dumbledore. Of all the ways to be put in his place, this had been on the harsh side. Not that he had learned much humility. He still had his outward pride if nothing else. Inwardly, he had never been more disappointed

in himself.

He was stretched out on his back now, watching the ceiling sleepily before the rainfall lulled him into an uneasy sleep.

When I let myself down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their final year at Hogwarts. They were old enough to be in the Forbidden Forest unattended, right? Malfoy wasn't quite so sure. The periodic howls and snapping of twigs had him on edge. "Will you hurry it up, Potter?"

Harry looked back the few feet to Malfoy from where he was crouched near some harmless looking herbs. "If you would actually do something this might go faster," he retorted nastily, throwing Malfoy a rude gesture with his bowline.

"Someone has to give you directions; make sure you don't make any stupid mistakes." Draco tapped the herbology book in his lap with the tip of his lit wand.

"You just don't want to do any work." Harry stood and approached the other, flinging the herbs he had collected onto Draco's open book, along with an excess of dirt. "It's your fault we have a detention anyway."

Draco snapped the book shut and stood. "Well, I thought you would be rather used to them by now," he said in the usual drawl, a smirk at his lips.

Through forever my gaze will appear satisfied.

"Forget it, Malfoy. Let's just finish this and go back."

Any other time Malfoy was sure Harry would have been only too happy to argue with him, to make something out of this. He supposed it was just a matter of time, something small to nudge Potter over the edge.

Malfoy picked up his pace, slamming his shoulder against Harry's as he passed. As the other stumbled sideways, a vine whipped out as if to take off his head.

Harry barely avoided the blow and, as he straightened, he caught Malfoy watching, wide eyed and rooted to the spot. When he did recover, moments later, the usual sneer upon his face was present again. "It's a shame it missed."

He could have said something a bit cleverer. In fact, he probably could have said nothing at all and it still would have been too much. That was all Harry could take. He never bothered to pull his wand. Harry had had enough muggle upbringing to resort to a fist fight rather than making things a split second longer to put his wand at the ready. Malfoy certainly wasn't expecting it when Harry tackled him.

The blonde wasn't much for brute force. He brought up his arms defensively. At last, he managed to catch Harry's wrist as his fist drew back to throw another punch. Harry was caught off guard when Malfoy made a grab for his other wrist, rolling him over and onto the bowline. Harry winced as it dug into his back, the edge snagging and ripping the back of his shirt as he squirmed to be back on top. He had had his chance. Draco was startled to find himself winning and only sporting a bloody nose to show for it.

In an act of bad judgment, he reached for his wand. This gave Harry the opening he needed to even the odds again. In a flurry of limbs and angry cries they switched positions, struggling and grabbing and shoving. Both were bruised and sore but neither showed any signs of slowing down, just as it was anyone's guess who had kissed who first.

But it's your affection that keeps me terrified.

Draco found himself unable to get out from under Harry now, his side pinned to the trunk of a tree. Their efforts still seemed frenzied, even more so when both realized the other wasn't pulling away. Harry took Draco's wrists as the other bit his lip forcibly.

The sounds of the forest weren't as worrisome to Malfoy any longer. His already fatigued and scrapped body hurt more than ever now, pinned to the uneven ground below but pulling away was the last thing on his mind at the moment. The metallic taste of blood on his tongue, that lightning scar; the deep green of his eyes. It was all flooding his senses. It was almost unbearable. He felt dizzy and short of breath.

Of years I might spend drowning in your eyes.

A clash of thunder sounded from above. The sky lit up and small amounts of rain began to escape from the canopy of trees. It was all so strange and familiar at the same time. Part of him wanted to keep struggling, to run away from this, but the rest of him was adamantly against that and, as Harry released his wrist to bury a hand in his now damp hair, Malfoy couldn't dream of it.

Draco's free hand went to Harry's shoulder, sliding downwards to find the rip in his shirt. He felt Harry shudder as his fingers grazed bare skin and, for a brief moment longer, they kissed deeply.

Then, without warning, Harry pulled away.

Draco allowed his hand to slip to the other's waist and felt him tense. Draco focused on Harry. He knew what he would see when he looked up. If he didn't look up maybe Harry would ignore them. Maybe he would kiss him again. Perhaps they could continue like this for, at the very least, several moments longer... perhaps an eternity.

"...Harry..." But he only pulled further away. Draco was left staring up at the sparse downpour from the canopy above.

It's sad when the rain falls,

When it makes no sound.

"Draco!"

Malfoy cringed and covered his face with his hands "...No..."

"Draco!" The voice was closer and more urgent now.

Malfoy felt a hand close around his arm firmly, jerking him up and roughly to his feet. The blonde was brought eye to eye with his father. He would have cowered had the hold on his arm not been so tight, painfully so.

His eyes soon focused beyond his father. They were surrounded. His mother, eyes averted embarrassingly, stood amidst Death Eaters and half the Slytherin house. The latter two of the three were now whispering amongst themselves and failing to suppress their laughter. Snape was there. He met Draco's gaze disapprovingly before he found an opportunity to look away. But it was one figure, shrouded in darkness that frightened him most. Directly behind his father there was a generous distance between this shrouded shape and the other spectators. As frightened as he was of his father, of the embarrassment of everyone else's presence here, it was this dark figure that was wracking his body with chills and constricted his breath.

"Release him," the voice was masculine but just as cold an inhuman as his outward appearance. "He did well tonight."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, confused, but found his voice had left him. He suddenly felt something thin and polished in his hand. Lucius moved his grip to his son's wrists, ripping the object from his grasp before releasing him. Draco found himself unable to go to Harry, to even move. He could see him there, though; well aware he couldn't run.

Warily, he moved his hand to his pocket only to be met with laughter and a momentary expression of shock. It faded quickly. Suddenly, he didn't seem surprised at all. Those deep green eyes fixed on Draco, narrowed, disgusted. Lucius was holding Harry's wand.

Draco struggled to say something, anything in his own defense but found his voice was still useless. He hadn't taken Harry's only means of defense... had he...?

When it falls out of order.

Draco was suddenly aware of the monstrous man at his side, though his eyes were still fixed on Harry. The laughter from the Slytherins and Dead Eaters grew louder, climaxing at a single pitch that hummed and droned, overwhelming Draco's sense of sound. No longer could he speak nor could he hear the scathing words between the Boy Who Lived and a man who had died more times than one man really should. His head was spinning but a steadying hand went to his shoulder. The touch of the hand that snaked around his neck both chilled and burned his flesh at once. He wanted to pull away. Regardless of his wishes he couldn't move a muscle. He could barely discern his own thoughts. The world was in fast forward and he could do nothing but watch until the speed fell, then stopped, and then slowed.

The hand on his shoulders pulled away and drew its own wand. "Avada Kadavra!" He made a lunge for the wand but found his own body was able to move no faster than the others.

Draco watched as a flash of light traveled from the wand tip, striking Harry as he attempted to dodge it. His body immediately crumpled.

The world sped back into motion and Draco was pitched forward. He missed the wand he had groped for and instead hit the ground hard.

When you're not around.

More laughter.

Draco caught his breath just in time for a sharp kick in the side that forced him onto his back. He opened his eyes, but he couldn't narrow the act down to a single individual. Everyone and no one seemed to be looking down upon him at the same time. He tried to get to his knees, to get to Harry but he was frozen again. Or was he moving?

Gagging, Draco realized the vine that had made a grab for Harry's head had fixed itself around his throat. He clawed at his own neck, reached out to his father and mother, to his fellow Slytherins, however, they only watched, playing the impartial audience. As he dropped his hand he found it settled on someone's arm. Draco had found Harry's forearm, then hand, already impossibly cold. As he allowed his grip to loosen willingly he felt the vine give a tug from above. The vine pulled tighter around his neck as his shoulders left the ground and his back scraped against the tree he had been beneath with Harry. He couldn't manage to get any breath now. His heart pounded desperately in his chest and the darkness set in.

It's worse when the night falls,

The corners of his vision faded, then became blotched and then-

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco heard laughter again but this laughter was different. He was awake but still unable to catch his breath.

"Aw, look. You woke him up," the Death Eater that now occupied the bed said, smiling at his wand-wielding companion.

His friend smirked and drew the wand higher. The ragged curtain rope pulled tighter, still around Malfoy's neck and dragged him several inches higher along the wall. The two other Death Eaters present only seemed half interested. Draco was the youngest residing at these headquarters. It certainly wasn't an uncommon practice for visiting Death Eaters to vacate a room in this manner, at least when he was the current occupant.

When I hide underground.

Suddenly, the door opened. Though on the edge of unconsciousness, Draco could tell that the sounds he heard were angry ones.

A moment later he was falling. His shoulder hit the edge of the mattress and he landed on the wooden floor hard, his side hitting first. As he coughed and gasped for breath he did his best to get to his knees. He attempted to appear angry. Even though it had been slightly fractured as of late, he still had his pride.

When I live my disorders.

The laughter hadn't faded away completely, though it was slightly stifled now. Draco finally managed to get to his knees only to feel someone grab his arm, much as his father had in his dream, and pull him to his feet. "Come along. He wants to speak with you."

Malfoy tensed and looked up to make sure he had heard correctly. Snape frowned down at him before giving him a light shove towards the door. "Hurry up."

There was no need to ask who "he" was. He would have to analyze that dream of his a later.

But why did he wish to see him? Perhaps the time had finally come to address the catastrophe that had culminated in his final year and had given him an unofficial expulsion form Hogwarts.

Draco took a deep breath. He had brought all of this on himself and perhaps his pride was more damaged than he had originally thought. He knew what real fear was these days. As he left the bedroom he could only just manage to suppress an ironic smile. These days he knew what real cowardice was as well.

When I let myself down.