Shattered Glass

Shattered Glass

The Day Before

It had only been a week since the start of school and the early evening air was still warm though with a hint of colder days to come. The sky sparkled with brightly shining stars and there was only the thinnest of crescent moons. Harry pulled his cloak closer around him, more for the support of it than for any real warmth. He looked up at the castle that was his school. There were still many lights on but soon everyone would be in bed, which was where he should be going. But the school seemed to close him in and as soon as he'd returned this year he'd known that things were different. There was a new shadow of fear and he seemed to be being blamed for it.

Turning away from the false support that the castle offered, he began to walk towards the lake, his back slightly hunched and his hands deep in his pockets. He'd only meant to come out here for a small breath of fresh air so he hadn't bothered with his invisibility cloak, something that he now regretted. He would be in big trouble if he were caught out here, especially after the events of last year.

He sat down on a boulder and began throwing rocks onto the serene surface of the lake. The ripples, the disturbed surface, filled him with an odd feeling of satisfaction. He began throwing them in harder, imagining each hit as destroying something.

"And that's Snape," he muttered as he imagined the next big rock hitting the Potion's master square in the nose. "And that one's Malfoy." As he said the last word he caught sight of a figure hurrying towards the Forbidden Forest. Judging by the standard school robes it was most likely a student. But who would be insane enough to go into the forest at night? Their hood fell back as the student put on a burst of speed and Harry saw pale, platinum blonde hair. Only one person had hair like that, Draco Malfoy.

Without a moment's consideration he hurried after the boy, filled with gleeful thoughts of catching him in the act of some crime. Brushing off his feelings of trepidation he entered the shadowed woods of the Forbidden Forest. He warily followed his enemy, walking as silently as he could. But Malfoy was in too much of a hurry and was making too much noise to notice that anyone was following him.

Malfoy came out into a clearing in which a tall, robed figure was waiting. Harry hid behind a tree, peering out through the branches of the bush next to it. The clearing was fairly small and looked very bright compared to the darkness all around it.

"You're late," the man said in a voice that was instantly familiar to Harry.

"I'm sorry, father. I had a hard time sneaking out," Draco answered, bowing his head subserviently.

"Take more time to plan and you should find your tasks a good deal easier. I haven't asked much from you yet, have I?"

"No father, but I do what you ask of me."

"Yes, you do, but not necessarily very well. I have a job for you, one that is of extreme importance and will earn you a highlighted spot in the Dark Lord's favor."

"What must I do?" Harry couldn't help but notice that Draco sounded less than pleased about this proposition. Lucius pulled a small vial from his robes, twirling it in front of him. The liquid was green, bright emerald green, the same color as Harry's eyes and it was very beautiful, reflecting even the meager light of the tiny moon.

"This, my son, is a jewel among potions, a most beautiful creation." Draco appeared interested in this, but then, he did like potions.

"What is it, father?"

"This is Soul's Fire, the deadliest of all potions, with no antidote and almost no hope of survival. It is death of the most painful kind."

"And what must I do with it?" Draco sounded scared now, almost as if he knew what he was going to be asked.

"You will put this in some sort of food or drink for a particular person to consume. You will leave no chance of it falling into any other hands. You will make sure this person dies or you will be punished greatly."

"Father?" Draco sounded petrified but at the same time almost vague, as if he was so scared that he was trying to leave his own body.

"You will make sure Harry Potter consumes this potion or I will not be at all pleased."

"But father, I can't do that! That's murder! I can't murder somebody. Passing on information is one thing, but kill him?"

"You will do as you're told or face the consequences!" Lucius roared.

"But father..."

"Crucio." Draco's screams echoed around the clearing and Harry flinched, moving his eyes away so he wouldn't have to witness this. Then anger, pure and strong, filled him, carrying him away on its flood. How dare this creature do this to his own son?

"Finite Incantatem!" he cried as he came out from behind the tree. The spell immediately stopped and Draco was left, whimpering with pain, in a limp pile on the floor. Lucius cast a scared look at the trees, unable to see his attacker.

"Remember what you have to do," he hissed, dropping the vial next to Draco. He then grabbed his broom from the ground and took off, soaring up into the sky.

Draco didn't even look up. He reached over and picked up the vial, staring at it as if it held all the secrets of life. Then he clutched it in a fist, ready to break it into a million pieces.

"Stop!" Harry said, suddenly fearful, "You don't want to get poisoned." Draco looked up at him, slightly surprised.

"And why not? It'll be a lot quicker and probably less painful then what my father will do to me."

"So you're not going to kill me?" Draco glared at him.

"Oh yes, of course," he said sarcastically, "That would really work. By the way, I'm going to poison you tomorrow, just thought you'd like to know. Where are your brains?" Harry felt the heat rising to his face and he had a very strong urge to punch the Slytherin. But some part of him held back; he was still in obvious pain.

"Well at least I'm not the one who's been ordered to kill someone. We should get back to the school. You need medical treatment."

"And what am I supposed to tell them? That I got in the way of a random Unforgivable Curse? I'm sure that would go over well."

"Whatever, then just get some rest. You don't look so good."

"Have you ever had Crucio put on you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I have." Draco looked up, regarding him.

"Right, of course you have. Then you know what it feels like. I'd be infinitely surprised if I could pass as something the cat dragged in. But fine, whatever. Just get out of the way."

"You're still on the ground," Harry pointed out after a long moment of silence.

"I'm well aware of the fact, Potter. But at the moment I can't seem to be able to stand up."

"Here." Harry put out his hand to help Draco up. After a few minutes of struggling they both collapsed onto the ground.

"I'm not getting anywhere," Draco said, glaring down at his betraying legs. There was again silence as they sat side by side in the moon and star lit clearing.

"Why didn't you agree to kill me?" Harry said after a while. "I thought you hated me."

"Of course I do. Do I sometimes wish you would burn in the fires of a thousand hells? Most definitively. Do I constantly hope that someday you'll be expelled from Hogwarts? You bet. But kill you? That's taking a simple grudge way to far."

"Thanks for the help with my self esteem," Harry said sarcastically.

"You don't need it. You've got those weirdoes like Creevey and that Weasley girl to boost it for you. They'll tell you you're amazing, intelligent, handsome, whatever you want. But we both know it's all crap."

"Oh thanks, that makes me feel so much better. So I'm ugly now, is it? And since when do you pay attention to the way I look?" Harry knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he'd said something wrong. Draco stiffened, the almost friendly air evaporating. He moved away so that their arms would no longer brush. Harry could see a faint reddish tint to his cheeks.

"I don't," Draco said shortly. "But it's not something you can avoid noticing. And no, you're not ugly. That's not what I meant."

"I was only joking, you don't have to get so uptight," Harry complained. As he looked over at the other boy it suddenly hit him. He was sitting out here, in the woods, at night, with his worst enemy, holding a conversation with him. How weird could things get?

Draco suddenly stood up unsteadily, holding onto the tree for support. "Let's go," he muttered. "We'd better get back to the school."

"Do you need help?" Harry asked, offering his hand. Draco looked at it suspiciously then up at Harry's expectant face. He took a step away from the tree and almost immediately collapsed back against it. With a frustrated sigh he grabbed a hold of Harry's hand. They took a few slow steps across the clearing, Harry supporting Draco as much as the boy would allow. As they reached the center of the clearing Harry glanced down at Draco's hand and saw the moon shining off of the vial clasped there.

"What are you going to do with that?" Harry asked, using his eyes to show what he was talking about. Draco raised it up to eye level.

"Drink it, maybe," he said calmly, staring at the vial as if it contained all the answers to the universe.

"What?" Harry exclaimed, horrified.

"It has to be better than what my father will do to me. At least this has a peaceful death at the end."

"You can't be serious! There are better ways..."

"You're right. There has to be less painful ways to commit suicide. Another potion, maybe, or I could jump off the Astronomy Tower."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Give it to me."

"Bugger off. I just saved your life."

"So I should let you die? I don't think so. Now give it here."

"No." Harry reached out to grab it.

"Let go!" There was a small struggle to gain possession of the poison. But there was too much pressure put on it and the delicate glass shattered into a million pieces, cutting their hands. The glistening shards fell between them, the green liquid splashing their hands and the grassy ground. Harry stared down at his hands in shock. He raised his eyes and met Draco's stunned grey ones.

"Oh shit," Draco breathed, "Now look what you've done." Harry started to shake, his hands burning the way they do when you come inside during the winter, like cold fire.

"Can this spread through the blood?" he asked quietly. Draco's eyes widened.

"Oh god. It's in our blood." He looked down at his scratched and bleeding hands. "Look what you've done! There goes all that suffering so I wouldn't have to kill you. We're both going to die anyway. 'He committed suicide out of guilt,' they'll say. 'He was evil. Got what was coming to him. Poor Potter, why did he get in the way of a killer?'"

"Stop it Malfoy, you're not helping."

"Helping? I'm supposed to be helping?" He sounded panicked. Harry had no idea why, as he had just been talking about killing himself anyway.

"Is there a cure?"

"You heard my father; you know there isn't."

"How long does it take to work?"

"You think I know?"

"Yes, now calm down. You're the one who's good at Potions." Draco took a deep breath and Harry could see that he was shaking.

"Okay, Soul's Fire, what do I know about Soul's Fire?" Draco muttered to himself, eyes skewed shut as he tried desperately to remember. "Emerald fire that burns from the heart, turning all good emotions into pain. Works its way slowly through the body acting like simple illnesses like a cold or just general ill health. But it gets worse, a lot worse, till you die from it."

"How long do we have?" Harry snapped.

"It starts working immediately," Draco continued, ignoring him. "But it takes a week for it to get life threatening. You die three days later."

"Ten days. We have ten days left to live."

"More or less."

"And there's no cure?" Draco shook his head in answer. Harry sat down hard on a nearby log, burying his face in his arms. "I don't want to die," came his muffled voice. "I'm only 15." Draco looked back at him sympathetically and sat down next to him.

"It'll be all right, you'll see. Look, you don't have many scratches on your hands." He picked up one of Harry's hands for inspection. He was lying, Harry knew that; his hands were covered in gouges from the shards of glass. "You probably have barely any poison in you, if any. You'll be fine."

"Stop it," Harry said, trying not to cry right then and there. "You're not making it better." There was silence, with Draco watching Harry uncomfortably.

"I'm really sorry," Draco said after a while. "I didn't mean for this to happen." Harry looked up at him and could see that he wasn't lying, he really was sorry.

"It's not your fault. It's mine if anything, I broke the vial."

"But it wouldn't have been anywhere near you if it wasn't for me." Draco pointed out.

Harry groaned suddenly. "I'm going to die a virgin." Draco looked at him, stifling the laugh that was threatening to get out.

"Really? Well you have a week to remedy that."

"Oh shut up. And what about you? Is the great Draco Malfoy a virgin too?" An odd look spread across the boy's face and he turned away again.

"Don't go there Potter," he said, his face reddening.

"What? Who's the lucky girl?"

"There isn't one. And for your information yes, I'm a virgin. And I expect to die still holding that title."

"And why would..." Harry trailed off as inspiration struck. "Those rumors! They're true? You really are gay?" Harry stared at the boy in shock.

"Yes, Potter, they're true. Now can we please get off this subject?" Draco said icily. "Since when is my sexual orientation of any interest to you?" It was Harry's turn to blush. He suddenly felt very odd around the pale Slytherin and he moved away slightly. Draco, noticing this change, turned his face away, his heart sinking. Well, there goes another person who hated him for that particular reason. And just when he thought that he was going to change all those years of hatred. But what did it matter anyway? He was going to die in ten days. What Harry, or anybody else, thought of him wasn't going to make any difference. There was a long silence.

Draco looked off across the clearing to where their fates had been sealed. With a sharp intake of breath he stood up, only a little unsteady now, and walked over to it. He bent down over the pieces of glass, inspecting the spot. Harry, curious, got up and followed him.

In a rough circle of dying grass still wet with a green liquid were the remains of the vial. And in the middle was the bottom of it, still intact and with some of the poison left in it. Draco picked it up gingerly, wincing as it touched his sore skin. He pulled his wand out of his pocket with a neat flick and muttered a spell over it. A thin, plastic-like material covered the glass, effectively keeping the last drops of poison inside. Without a word Draco put it in his pocket with his wand. He turned to look up at Harry's pale face.

"We'd better go back," he murmured as he stood up.

"Are we going to tell anyone?" Draco looked at him, his face a battle scene between warring emotions. With a shrug he turned away.

"It's up to you. If it was just me I wouldn't, but this is your life too. You have every right to ask for help. But I don't think you're really going to get any."

"But we have to try. If there's any hope, any at all, we have to try."

"Go ahead, I'm not going to stop you. Just don't tell them I'm poisoned too."

"What? Why not?"

"Were you listening before? I want to die. I welcome it with open arms."

"You can't really mean that! There's so many things worth living for."

"Like what, Potter? Family, friends, love? Well I don't have any of that nor do I see getting them anytime in the near future, or in any future for that matter. I have absolutely nothing to live for and I'm sick and tired of life. I just want to sleep and forget everything." He closed his eyes, bringing to mind his dreams about that pure sleep without any nightmares that he so yearned for. But the darkness was disturbed by two emerald green eyes watching him. "Don't you understand? I don't want to live in this hell anymore." Draco was ashamed to feel tears filling his eyes and he turned away almost angrily.

"It doesn't have to be hell," Harry said quietly from behind him. "There are so many good things. And things could always improve. Who knows, maybe someday you'll find that perfect someone and you'll settle down and live happily ever after." Draco gave a sharp bark of laughter.

"In the land of faeries where all your dreams come true. Yeah right. Like that would ever happen. Be real Potter. What's more likely to happen is my father will find me, torture me within an inch of my life until I beg for death. But he won't kill me, oh no, that would be too easy. He'll let me recover slightly and then do it all over again. I'll be crippled and broken and live out the rest of my days as his humble servant without a mind of my own. Or I'll go insane and have to stay at St. Mungo's to be treated. Does that sound any better than death?"

"But that doesn't have to happen. Dumbledore will protect you!"

"The way he does you? I see he's been able to keep you out of life and death situations for the past four years. Oh yes, I really trust him to keep me safe. Forget it Potter. I'm sick of this. You go ask for help, tell them that you picked the vial up off the ground and it shattered in your hand. Just forget me."

"I can't do that."

"Why the hell not? You hate me, despise me, wish I would die. You'd think that you'd be happy now that I'm going to."

"I can't lie to Dumbledore," Harry said evenly. Draco stopped mid tirade, looking almost hurt at the lack of a denial.

"Just leave me out of it." Draco turned and started walking towards the school.

"Wait, Draco," Harry called. He stopped.

"Did you just...?" Draco asked. Harry nodded, putting his hand out in front of him.

"Why don't we call this a truce, since we're both going to die anyway." They clasped hands firmly and without another word headed up to the school.

They were just passing the lake when the first waves of dizziness washed over Harry, causing him to gasp and stop suddenly. The world was swirling wildly around him and Harry could feel his stomach flipping over uneasily. Draco looked back at him and stopped.

"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly as he grabbed Harry's arm to steady him.

"No," Harry gasped as he fell against Draco. The Slytherin boy caught him, holding him up.

"Go ahead, lean against me," he said, moving Harry so he could use Draco as a support. Harry sagged against him, unable to go any farther. "It's the poison, it's starting to work," Draco murmured to him. Harry gave no sign to show that he'd heard but that was probably because he was to scared to move.

"I think I'm okay," he said quietly after a minute or so. Draco looked down at his pale face.

"You don't look it. You can lean on me if you want to."

"I already am," Harry pointed out, suddenly wondering how he'd gotten his head on the other boy's shoulder. Draco looked down slightly at the black haired head resting on him and a ghost of a smile spread across his face.

"I meant while we were walking. If you can, that is." Harry nodded this time and they headed slowly up to the school, this time Draco helping Harry to walk. As they neared the school Harry found he could walk on his own, to his relief. But he kept wondering when it was going to be Draco's turn to break down. When they'd stepped inside and Draco was still fine, he stopped.

"Well this is where we part," he said, trying to make out the other boy's face.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Harry nodded.

"Yes, I'll be all right. But what about you? It hasn't had its initial effect yet. You could just collapse in the hallway all on your own."

"I'll be fine, don't worry about it." They stood in awkward silence for a few moments.

"Well goodnight then," Harry said.

"Goodnight." Draco stood watching Harry as he walked slowly back to the Gryffindor dorm, concern written across his face. When the Gryffindor was finally out of sight he turned and went his own way. Neither one of them noticed the curious almond shaped eyes watching them from the shadows.

* * * *

It was late that night when the poison made itself known in Draco's system. He was half asleep, vaguely aware of his surroundings but his mind occupied in some nonsensical dream. Suddenly he was falling, the world spinning around him and he came to himself with a jolt. He was choking on nothing; his lungs couldn't bring in enough air. He was sweating profusely; gasping in the sudden heat that seemed to envelop him. The world was swirling around him and his stomach turned over. He barely kept down what was left of his supper, something that he was extremely grateful for. That would have been hard to explain, even to the two dunderheads that he had to call friends.

But slowly the world righted itself and Draco found that he could breath again and that the world had stopped moving and had returned to its normal temperature. The little fit had passed but now Draco knew that the poison was in him and that he had no chance of living. The fact twisted oddly inside of him and he felt a little disappointed. But like he'd said, what was there to live for?