Draco By Trial

*

You remind me

Of that leak in my soul.

Smashing Pumpkins - Blank Page

*

Draco steeled himself for what was coming next. He needed to be careful; needed to think. But Fudge was better at this than he looked and Draco hadn't been prepared for it. With just the slightest look or the smallest question, he seemed able to get right under his skin and had him spilling secrets he'd barely even admitted to Harry, never mind the entire wizarding world. The episode about his father had been particularly embarrassing. Fudge obviously knew all the rules and tricks with Veritaserum as well. 'But not all,' he thought, 'there's one thing he doesn't know.'

"It seemed that Harry and I had reached new ground; new levels to our friendship. If anything, we spent even more time together, not just evenings. Every moment we weren't in class or at meals, we were together."

"Why was that?"

"We needed each other."

"And just how did he need you?" Fudge asked condescendingly. Draco had a sudden flashback to his father's trial. Fudge had done the same to him and Draco had had to watch uncomfortably as his father hurled insults at the man and dug an even deeper hole for himself. Draco was determined not to let that happen to himself. He would not lose control; he would not disclose anything that was unnecessary. He would achieve what he had set out to do; this irritating little man would not get in his way.

"Harry needed someone to take his mind off of Voldemort. He needed someone to see beyond the scar."

"And what about his other friends? Weren't they enough?"

"I...suppose not. I never really thought about it. It just seemed right that he was with me."

"I see. And what did Mr Potter offer you?"

"The same thing I suppose. He helped me to remember that life goes on; that some things are more important than others."

"Like what?"

"Like laughter, having fun, staying sane."

"So it wasn't just that you thought that hanging around Mr Potter would give you added protection from your housemates?" Draco glared at Fudge, gritting his teeth.

"No," he said icily.

*

"Draco, they're still staring at us," Harry muttered as they made their way quickly out of the library.

"Just ignore them," Draco said, knowing that his voice sounded overly confident.

"They're following us."

"Let them follow. There's nothing they can do." They had appeared to have inherited two stalkers. Two big, dumb Slytherins called Thomas and Tristan, the big T's as they were known. They had been following them very obviously for the last hour. They were making Harry jittery, but all Draco felt was annoyance. They were like gnats in his ear, buzzing and buzzing until he felt the urge to slam them against a wall with a huge book.

"How're we going to get rid of them?"

"Why should we? Let them follow," Draco repeated. They were only looking for an opportunity that Draco was too intelligent to give them. 'Let them follow,' he thought angrily. 'Let them follow and see how much I just don't care.'

*

"There's something I don't quite understand. You said earlier that your relationship with Mr Potter changed; that things became tense between the two of you. And yet, at the same time, you began to spend even more time with each other." Fudge looked straight at Draco, who stared right back.

"I suppose," he began slowly, "that we were better together than apart. We drove each other mad, but at the same time we understood each other..."

*

Draco exhaled deeply, and silently watched the long plume of smoke slowly fade. There wasn't a breath of wind that evening and the smoke seemed to just hang in the air; floating over his head like a protective layer that would shelter him from the world. Harry sat next to him, looking on disapprovingly.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," he grumbled. Draco didn't bother answering, just took another drag. "I don't even see how you picked it up. It's a very Muggle thing to do."

"You know," Draco said slowly. "No matter how many times you say that to me, it isn't going to put me off." Harry glared as Draco smirked at him.

"Where do you get them from anyway?" Draco smirked again and tapped the side of his nose. He thought it was good to retain a certain air of mystery around Harry, and it would be slightly damaged if he admitted that his cousin posted them to him every month.

"I have my ways."

"Whatever," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I never saw the point in it myself. Why bother killing yourself slowly when you don't get anything out of it?" Draco raised an eyebrow, then grinned as a thought struck him.

"What if we could find something?" he asked slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I did hear rumours about certain 'herbs' that are grown in the top security greenhouse." Harry burst out laughing.

"Oh come on, everyone's heard that rumour! It's like a school myth!"

"Ah, but I do know certain people who went to investigate last year."

"And?" Harry asked eagerly. Draco merely winked.

"So, interested?" he asked casually.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm not really sure..."

"Not even just to see? To find out if it's true?" Harry stared at him for a moment, before smiling broadly.

"Alright then, just to see. I bet you just want to get me into a hot and steamy enclosed space don't you?" he said with a wink. Draco, much to his irritation, blushed ever so slightly. He hoped that in the gloom of twilight, Harry hadn't noticed.

"In your dreams Potter."

*

"...at least, I thought I did. But there were things going on in his mind that I didn't find out about until it was too late."

"Too late because you tried to kill him?"

"No. Too late because it meant that I couldn't help him."

*

It was after midnight when they finally managed to sneak into the greenhouse. Draco had been mildly surprised when, when he had met Harry in the entrance hall, that he had appeared seemingly from nowhere right next to him. He'd handed Draco the invisibility cloak he had been under, muttering:

"Had some trouble getting out of the tower." Draco had stared in awe at the treasure in his hands. The silken material seemed to flow through his fingers like water.

"Do you realise how rare these are?" he'd asked quietly, still unable to tear his eyes away from it.

"Yes," Harry had answered shortly, and apparently was unwilling to go any more into it. Draco had shrugged and handed it back, barely wanting to let it leave his hands.

Now, sneaking around somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, he felt like a criminal. It was strangely exciting; exhilarating almost, but at the same time he couldn't help thinking about the safety an invisibility cloak could offer. Harry, on the other hand, didn't seem to be enjoying himself at all. He was jumpy and irritable, and kept looking over his shoulder.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Draco snapped as soon as they were inside. Harry glared at him.

"Nothing," he muttered.

"If you didn't want to come you should've just said."

"Oh shut up. I'm here aren't I?"

"Yeah, right," Draco mumbled under his voice. He looked around at the greenhouse. "Shit! It's huge!"

All of the other greenhouses were relatively small, housing a few magical plants, organised according to their magical properties. This, on the other hand, was huge. Students were rarely allowed in here, although many had tried. Row upon row of plants of varying sizes stretched away from them into the distance. Draco could have sworn it didn't look any bigger than the others from the outside.

"Wow," Harry said, sounding awed. "It's like the Tardis!"

"What?"

"Nothing. It's a Muggle thing." Draco immediately lost interest.

"So, which way do you reckon we should go?"

"How the hell should I know, this was your idea," Harry replied grumpily.

"If you're going to be like that you can just bugger off."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled and had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. Draco softened slightly.

"Look, really, what's the matter?" he asked as they began walking. At his side, Harry looked straight ahead.

"It's nothing, I just had some trouble getting away. Ron caught me sneaking out."

"So? You're always doing that."

"I know," Harry said sadly. "I think that was kind of the point. It was always him I used to sneak out with."

"So?" Draco thought he might be repeating himself too much, but he really didn't see the point. His eyes scanned the shelves, but he didn't see anything that looked remotely like what they were trying to find.

"So he made me feel guilty," Harry snapped, stopping suddenly. "I just wish Ron could come with us sometimes."

"Well that's not very likely is it?" Draco said, stopping now as well.

"No, it isn't."

"It's not all my fault you know! It goes both ways." Draco was disgruntled by what Harry was trying to blame him for.

"You don't exactly make it easier though do you?" Harry almost shouted. Draco noted his fists clenching slightly by his sides and took a step back, looking warily at Harry.

"Why should I?" Harry didn't seem to have an answer, instead he took deep, steadying breaths and relaxed his posture.

"He's my friend, and I've hurt him," he said quietly, his head and shoulders dropping. Draco began to feel guilty and he reached out to Harry, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Harry looked up and smiled. "I'm sorry, it's not your fault." He raised his own hand and placed it briefly over Draco's, before turning to look around them. "You know, I think we're lost." Draco looked around as well, and felt a brief moment of panic when he realised he didn't recognise which direction they'd come in.

"Damn it," he muttered. Harry had walked a few steps away, and Draco felt the insane urge to stay very close to him; nothing bad happened around Harry.

He felt the danger before he saw it. He whipped around and saw a huge plant, about the same height as he was. Vicious-looking, it almost appeared to rear, a giant flower in its centre opened its petals slowly. Spiked creepers raised and it began to sway dangerously.

"Oh shit," he muttered. "Harry. Harry!"

"What?" Harry turned and the plant lunged. Draco grabbed Harry and pushed him sideways, but not before one of the creepers managed to reach Harry and pierce his side. Draco landed heavily on top of Harry and rolled over immediately. Harry wasn't moving and the plant looked ready to strike again. He grabbed Harry under his arms and yanked him backwards out of reach of the plant.

Harry opened his eyes, which appeared glazed, and began to mumble unintelligibly.

"Oh bugger," Draco swore. "Harry? Harry can you hear me?" Harry tried to raise himself on his hands but they slipped and he fell back.

"Ouch."

"Are you OK?" Draco asked, kneeling beside him. He put his hand on Harry's cheek and turned his head to face him. "Harry?" Harry grinned at him.

"Hi there," he slurred.

"Oh fabulous," Draco sighed.

"Have I been drinking? I feel a bit...funny." Harry began to giggle. He raised his hand to Draco's, which was still on his cheek, and covered it gently. Draco stared at him for a moment, and felt something begin to tingle mysteriously within him. He untangled his hand from Harry's and sat back on his haunches. Harry tried to sit up again, and managed eventually to slump forwards, his hands supporting him. Draco reached out and steadied him with a hand on his back.

"Mmm, oh, whoa there Leslie. Feeling a slight head-spin," Harry said, stretching out each syllable. "You're swaying, are you drunk?" Harry's head swayed from side to side, whilst Draco sat completely still. He couldn't help the grin which spread across his face.

"You have beautiful eyes, did you know that? They're almost like spun silver," Harry said softly, looking up innocently at Draco. His glasses had been dislodged from his nose, and his eyes were clearly visible, bright and round, peering owlishly upwards. Draco rolled his eyes, stood up and then leant down to try and help him up.

"And did you know, you're so much more eloquent like this? Maybe I'll leave you this way." It happened in a moment, far too quickly for Draco to react. At the same time, it all seemed to happen in one painfully slow second, suspended in time. Harry put his arms around Draco's neck, supposedly for support, but instead of trying to stand up he pulled Draco further towards him, pressing his lips gently but firmly against Draco's.

His lips were soft and cool, but Draco didn't move. He stayed completely still, surrounded by the smell and taste of Harry. He was vaguely aware that his mind was asking just what the hell was going on, but it didn't quite seem to register when Harry's lips were pressed just so on his.

Draco sat back, stunned, as Harry's lips left his. They stared straight at each other, neither gaze moving, and there was an intensity, an undeniable truth in that look that took Draco's breath away more than Harry's kiss ever could have.

"Oh dear. Draco..." Harry murmured, before his arms slipped from Draco's neck and he fell back, passed out cold.

"Harry?"

*

"And just what did you want to help him with?" Draco had to think very carefully before answering.

"He had a lot on his mind. Voldemort, the pressure put on him by knowing about the prophecy, his friends were giving him problems because of the amount of time he was spending with me, love." He spoke the last word quietly, unable to skirt the subject because of that damned potion.

"Love?" Fudge asked, looking confused. "Mr Potter had a girlfriend? I wasn't informed of this." Draco almost laughed out loud at the sheer closed-mindedness of the man. 'Such a little man, living in such a little world.'

"He didn't have a girlfriend, no. But he developed feelings for someone, and it was on his mind a lot." 'And mine,' he thought.

"Ah, I see," Fudge said pompously, smiling indulgently.

*

Draco stared down at where Harry lay in the hospital bed as Madam Pomfrey fussed over him.

"Will he be alright?" he asked her quietly, his gaze never moving.

"Yes," she said primly. "But he really should be more careful next time. He's important you know. And you should know better yourself Mr Malfoy."

He's important. He's important.

"Yes," Draco said faintly. The nurse gave him an odd look, before placing a hand on his shoulder.

"He'll be fine," she said, before bustling away again. Draco stared for a moment longer before turning to leave.

"Draco?" A faint voice, coming from Harry's bed. He turned back, and saw Harry looking up at him with a confused expression. "Where am I?" he asked slowly.

"In the hospital wing. I have to go," Draco said shortly.

"No, wait!" Harry began to struggle to sit up again, but failed miserably. He sank back, defeated, into the bed. "Stay, please."

"OK, but only for a minute."

"No, stay, forever..." Harry's voice drifted off into nothing as sleep took him. Draco looked at him and then, sighing heavily, took a seat by Harry's bed and waited.

*

He sat for a long time, just watching Harry sleep. Madam Pomfrey had looked at him disapprovingly, but with a single glare from him she had shrugged her shoulders and left him to it. He briefly considered that it was very irresponsible of her, to leave him with Harry when he was so defenceless. Draco could do anything to the sleeping boy and there would be no-one there to stop him.

He stared on, barely aware of the shifting shadows around him as he focussed entirely on Harry. He'd known something had been bothering him, but this? This had never crossed his mind. He half wondered if Harry had told anyone, if there was someone wandering around school every day knowing this secret that Draco should have known about. 'Why didn't anyone tell me?' The answer that there was no-one who would, rang clearly through his head. There were too many people at Hogwarts who would love to laugh at his stupidity; who would love to see his friendship with Harry ruined.

'How did I not see this?'

It occurred to him that maybe Harry didn't know; that maybe he understood his feelings even less than Draco did. This then brought up the question of what would happen when Harry woke up. What would he say? Do? Would he confront it? Draco didn't think he'd be able to handle that, not yet. Or would he push Draco away because he was scared?

So Draco sat, and watched, and waited. Terrified that the only good thing in his life would end, and even more scared by the thoughts he was trying to ignore that were running through his head. Because oh, it had felt so simple when Harry's lips touched his, as though it was some other natural progression that had just crept up on them and he hadn't noticed. But when Harry had passed out, with his name, his name, the last thing on his lips, Draco had panicked and nearly left him there. He'd stared at him, completely numb, shocked beyond belief and...hurt. He'd felt insanely betrayed, as though Harry had just taken everything they'd built together and flipped it upside down, making it something it was never supposed to be. And how did he get past that? How could he get past the confusion of having the only important relationship in his life at that moment, being expressed as a sham?

But what if it wasn't? Draco found himself looking back over all the time he'd spent with Harry, and realising that every moment; every minute, was fixed in his memory. Every touch burned his skin even now, every grin made him smile to himself. Harry couldn't know, he would have noticed. But there could have been other things that Draco considered he might not have been aware of, like his own reactions to Harry, his overwhelming need to be near him, how much he cared.

Could it be that this was something neither of them had been aware of? He sat silently, resisting the urge to run away. If he could last the night, he could handle this.

It was nearly seven in the morning when, as Draco watched, Harry scrunched up his eyes slightly, then sighed and opened them. He stared at Draco for a long time, before he frowned and then sat up. Apparently this was a mistake, because he groaned and lay quickly back down.

"Morning," Draco said quietly. Harry jerked at the noise and groaned loudly again. Draco almost smiled.

"Have you been sitting there all night?" Harry asked blearily. Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes," he said in the same quiet voice. "You asked me to." Harry looked at him strangely for a moment, before his face broke into a smile. Draco found that he couldn't look at him.

"Well that was silly. What the hell happened to me?" Draco's head whipped round and he locked eyes with Harry, hope suddenly filling him.

"You don't remember?" he asked quickly.

"Nope! Well, I remember going into the greenhouse, getting lost, and then I think I got stung, or something. After that, not a lot." Draco's whole body sagged, but he wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed. Harry gave him an odd look. "Why? Did something happen? Did I do something?" Draco looked at him and smiled.

"No, nothing happened. I just thought you'd remember that's all."

"How did I get here?"

"I brought you of course." Draco's mind was racing. Harry didn't know. Harry didn't know. But did that change anything? It didn't change what he'd done; it didn't change what Draco had been thinking before Harry came around. Could they? Was the possibility even there?

"What did you tell Madam Pomfrey?" Harry looked suddenly worried.

"Ah, well," Draco shuffled his feet and looked down. "I had to tell her the truth didn't I?" Harry sat up straight. Panic crossing his face.

"What?! You told her that-"

"That you got stung by some weird plant on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest of course." Draco smiled teasingly as Harry visibly relaxed. This was easy, he could do this. Harry didn't have to know anything.

"Oh, OK then. I suppose. It does make me look a bit stupid though."

"Which is what makes it completely believable." Draco smiled again, until his eyes began to wander, tracing Harry's hair, the line of his jaw, his eyes. He noticed a red line on Harry's cheek where it had been pressed into his pillow, and the way that his left arm was flung casually over his head, slightly raising the top of his pyjamas. He jerked back suddenly when he realised what he was doing, running a slightly shaky hand through his hair. "Right, well, as sleeping beauty has arisen, I shall depart," he said sarcastically, trying to hide his discomfort. He stood slowly.

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"What for?"

"For staying." Draco smiled once more and, leaning over Harry, stretched out his hand, intending to brush away a lock of Harry's hair that had fallen into his eyes. He stopped suddenly, his hand frozen halfway there. He brought it back to his side and clenched it into a fist.

"No problem," he said stiffly.

*

"Well I hardly think Mr Potter's love-life is something we need to go into right now, unless it has something to do with the murders you committed?" Draco stared straight at the man in his pin-striped robes, and wondered what the true answer to that question really was. In a way, it wasn't what he had done, more how he had acted afterwards that had everything to do with Harry.

"No," he said quietly. "They had nothing to do with Harry's love-life."

*

They were out once more practising Quidditch in the last of the day's light. It had been two days since the greenhouse, and Draco couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd been the one to suggest Quidditch, though it brought back uncomfortable memories it allowed him to spend time with Harry without actually having to talk or even communicate at all. Harry, for his part, was happier than Draco had seen him for days. He seemed to have regained some of his care-free air, as though he had managed to exorcise some of the demons that had been following him around over the past few months. Draco only wished that he was able to enjoy his friend's new-found freedom. Harry whooped and yelled as he dove and circled, searching eagerly for the snitch. Draco found that it was very difficult to keep himself from staring.

Every time, every single time Draco saw Harry fly, it was like watching him for the first time, and every time he noticed something new. That day, he noticed Harry's grip on his broomstick, firm but almost gentle at the same time, so sure, so confident. He shook his head and tried to concentrate, but found it impossible when all he could think about was what Harry had done to him.

"Damn you Potter," he muttered, and flew to the other side of the pitch, as far away as possible.

He really should have been concentrating more. He'd read of countless fatal accidents involving Quidditch that happened simply because the idiot player wasn't paying attention. But it was so difficult when Harry flew so close to him; when all Draco could think of when Harry was near him was that forgotten kiss. 'Not so forgotten.' He was wondering what the hell Harry had done to him, when he heard him shout from across the pitch.

"Look out!" He turned his head back, just in time to see the goal post that he was about to run into. It was too late to swerve, too late to do anything but stare. His broomstick hit first, jarring him from his position. He tried to hold on, but he lost his balance and he was falling; falling again, but this time there were no laughing and spiteful teams-mates, no roaring crowd, there was no Harry staring down at him with that terribly horrified expression. There was only silence. Terrible, overwhelming silence that made him want to scream if only to break it, because it was unbearable. He hit the ground and his stick followed. Lying there, not moving, he tried to breathe, gasping silently as an iron glove squeezed his lungs.

Harry was in his view now, his worried face close, too close. His breath hit Draco's face as his worried hands took his head and placed it gingerly into his lap. For a moment he sat there, numb to all sensation but that of Harry, until he was able to breathe again. Draco watched his lips forming his name, and all of the memories from two days ago flooded back. It was too much, he was drowning and the one person he thought he could hold onto was the one who had betrayed him; who had made him feel.

"Stop it! Get off me!" Draco shouted suddenly, trying desperately to scramble away. He had to move, to get away, because it was all so wrong, so wrong... He rolled over, away, and groaned as his ribs began to throb.

"What's the matter with you?! Stop it, you'll hurt yourself!" Harry shouted frantically, reaching out to him again. Draco jerked away and managed to struggle to his feet but he'd hurt his leg when he'd fallen, it collapsed under his weight and he fell again. Harry caught him clumsily.

"Stop it," Draco said weakly, struggling in Harry's arms. "Please."

"What the hell is wrong with you? What were you doing?" Harry asked again, refusing to let go.

"Just leave me alone. I can't..."

"Can't what? What?"

"Stop touching me!" Draco shouted, and Harry finally let him go.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I...I just...no, stop asking. Don't ask. Don't ask!" Draco was almost frantic, he couldn't tell him, it would ruin everything. He would ruin everything again.

But how could he not, when it meant everything?

"Just tell me what's happened!"

"You kissed me OK! That's what happened! You kissed me!" He blurted it out without thinking, and hated himself immediately. Harry's stunned face filled his mind, became so unbearable to look at that he had to look away, had to leave. So slowly, gingerly, he limped away from an unmoving Harry, feeling as though he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.

*

"So, to return to earlier, things were difficult between the two of you, but you were happy?" 'Happy, what does that mean? Was I happy that Harry kissed me? Was I happy that I told him?' Draco thought for a long time.

"No, we weren't happy; you can't be in that kind of situation. Always waiting, not knowing, living in uncertainty where things could change at a moments notice. All I can say is things were...intense, but we managed. I'm not really sure how, but we did. When you have someone you trust to hang onto, you can get through just about anything."

*

Draco stood alone by the lake, not really knowing what he was doing there. He'd thought about going to sit with the poppies, or to the Shrieking Shack, or the Quidditch pitch, but everywhere reminded him of Harry. He couldn't get away, his face was printed on every brick, every blade of grass carried his smell, the wind was his voice, whispering secrets in Draco's ear. He needed, longed, to get away, to run away and forget everything that had happened, all he'd said, all he felt. So he'd returned to the lake, coming full circle and back to the beginning again, back to when he was so uncertain and confused about what Harry wanted. He was angry again, sad again, lost again. He hated that he was so afraid, and hated Harry for being the cause of it. He'd tried so hard to tell himself that none of it mattered, that they could carry on as normal because Harry didn't remember. The problem was that he remembered, he knew that none of this was real. It was a façade for them both to hide behind and it was cruel.

But now, now there could be no more denial because they both knew. It would hang between them like an executioner's noose that if either approached would encircle and strangle them because it was too strong, too much.

It was insane. All of this was completely insane, it made no sense that this should have happened.

He heard gentle footsteps approaching him from behind and knew it wasn't Harry; Harry would be running, always running. He turned and was surprised the youngest Weasley, the girl, looking nervously at him. 'What was her name again?' he thought dully. 'Doesn't matter. She's a bit-player in everyone's life but her own.'

"What did you do to him?" she asked cautiously, and Draco was impressed by her bravery.

"I didn't do anything."

"He won't talk to anyone. It's like he's completely switched off, like he's comatose or something but he's still moving."

"He has a lot on his mind."

"What did you do?" And the desperation in her voice made Draco stare suspiciously at her.

"Why do you care?" he asked harshly. "Worried I've scarred your one true love for life with my evil Slytherin ways?" She shot him a disgusted look.

"I'm not in love with Harry," she said quietly, looking into Draco's eyes with a kind of all-knowing truth that terrified him so much that he had to look away. He stared wildly up into the sky, trying to hold onto the stars so that he wouldn't fall.

"There's nothing I can do to help him," he whispered.

"You could just be there for him. He needs you, whatever's gone on between you."

"I think I make it worse." He heard a sudden intake of breath and he looked at her. Her face was a pattern of both shock and revelation, and he sighed in resignation. Here was the one who knew. The Weasley's weren't all stupid then.

"I thought...I mean...I...I thought it was you," she managed weakly, and Draco smiled wanly.

"Whoever said that it wasn't?"

*