Believe in me

Believe In Me

Chapter Three

Harry shifted in his sleep moving his hand, which had decided to disconnect feeling from the rest of his body. As he turned he felt a body next to him, or more precisely, on top of him. It took a few minutes to register that he was not in his large double bed in Gryffindor Tower but on a plush sofa, and he was not alone.

He opened his eyes and was met with a blurry image, but he could vaguely make out a blonde haired head resting on his chest. He smiled as he remembered where he was and whom he was with, and then his smile widened when he realised that for the second night in a row now, he hadn't had a nightmare.

Over the summer he had been haunted by visions of Sirius as he relived the awful moment over and over again, willing himself to do something different, but never doing so. Every night he watched Sirius die. These were the worst kind of nightmares. Watching Voldemort kill Wizards and Muggles was horrific and made Harry feel physically sick, but watching the only person you could always count on, the only person you considered family die in front of you over and over again. It was more than he could stand.

Thoughts of Sirius were shifted away by the stirring of the fair-haired Slytherin next to Harry.

"Morning," Harry said, a slight smile playing on his lips as he watched a groggy Draco rouse into consciousness.

Draco's eyes fluttered open, squinting at the soft light, confused for a second, then focussing on Harry and smiling.

"Morning," he replied, "What time is it?"

Harry twisted around to look for a clock and found one behind him in the kitchen area of the room. He sat up suddenly as he registered the time.

"Its six A.M!" he exclaimed.

"Really?" Draco said sounding completely unbothered, "I overslept."

"How am I going to explain where I've been all night?" Harry panicked, and then registering Draco's comment, "and what the hell do you mean overslept! It's six in the morning, what time do you usually get up?"

"Five-thirty," Draco said as he got up off the sofa and went to look in the mirror where he promptly started fiddling with his hair.

"Why?" Harry said disbelievingly.

"I get up at five-thirty," Draco said, still looking at his reflection, "Wash, dress, etcetera, go for a run round the lake at six, come back at seven, shower, sit in the Common room for an half an hour reading while everyone else gets up, then go down to breakfast at eight. Why? What time do you get up?"

Harry looked at Draco, and for the hundredth time in the last two days, realised how little he knew about the Slytherin.

"Round about the time you start eating your breakfast," Harry admitted.

Draco laughed and with a final look of contentment with the way his hair now looked, came back over to Harry. He picked up a pair of glasses from the floor and slid them onto the raven-haired boys face.

"Tell them you woke up early and went for a walk," Draco said, "They'll believe you, how often do you lie to them anyway."

'Nearly every day' Harry thought to himself sadly, the sheer number of secrets he had been keeping recently suddenly brought to his attention, but Harry decided to not answer the rhetorical question, and instead allowed Draco to pull him to his feet.

"Want to make that lie a little more truthful?" Harry said, "We've got an hour or so to kill after all. No one else gets up this early do they?"

"Nope," Draco said, "the rest of the school are as lazy as you are Potter," Draco said, "well," he corrected, "perhaps not quite as lazy as you, but they won't be awake for a while. Lets go."

The two boys snuck out of the castle and when at the safety of the vast lake, Draco linked hands with Harry. They walked in comfortable silence for a while, but then Harry spoke up.

"We're going to have to talk about what's going on between us sooner or later you know," he said.

"I know," Draco replied calmly, "but I thought we agreed it would be later. Don't go all Dawson's Creek on me now."

"Firstly, I don't watch Dawson's Creek, so I don't get the analogy, and secondly, how do you know about Dawson's Creek?"

"I stayed with my Aunt Andromeda for a while when I was younger. She married a Muggle and they had a TV. Simple really," Draco said shrugging.

Harry thought about this scenario for a minute or two, and came up with nothing.

"No, sorry. Don't see it happening," he said.

Draco smiled.

"You're assuming that my parents knew about this event," he explained devilishly, "There's no way I would have been able to go if they knew."

"Why did you then?" Harry asked.

"I was young. Bored. Besides, its not like mum didn't try to patch things up with her sister. Unfortunately the condition was that she divorce her Muggle husband and put their Mudblood daughter up for adoption."

"Don't say that," Harry said seriously.

"Say what?" Draco asked genuinely confused, stopping to face Harry.

"Mudblood. If you have to make a distinction between Pure Blood and Muggle born wizards, say Half-blood," Harry said, fixing his gaze on Draco's.

Draco looked at Harry for a moment before speaking.

"I can't change what I am Harry," he said seriously, "I've been brought up to believe that Pure Blood Wizards are better, and I can't change my mind overnight. I grew up with a strong family history and lots of powerful relatives. This is the way I am, and I can't change just because we're getting along now."

"Have you every stopped to consider that maybe some of the values you were taught are wrong?" Harry said.

"Who are you to say what's right and wrong? Just because you're a famous Gryffindor, doesn't mean you're always right!" Draco said a little hotly.

Harry was doing his best not to get angry at Draco's arrogance, but he was beginning to remember why they had fought each other for the last five years.

"Draco, what do you think of me?" Harry asked, trying to sound patient and calm.

"What do I think of you?" Draco repeated perplexed.

Harry nodded, and Draco looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I think you're brave and noble, a typical Gryffindor. You act before you think and you have a standard hero complex. You think the fate of the world is in your hands and you carry the weight of it on your shoulders alone.

You're desperate to be loved by someone who doesn't expect anything of you, and you thought you'd found that with Sirius, and then he was taken away from you. I think you're angry with that, but you don't want pity, which is why you act as though you're coping when really you just want to cry because twice now, you've lost your family.

I think your bitter and angry at the way your life has turned out when you didn't ask for any of it, but you know as well as I do that there's no way you'd let anyone else carry the burden, because when the time comes, you want it to be down to you and Voldemort, and part of you just wants it finished, either way.

I think that if you thought your death could serve better than your life, then you'd choose death in an instant, because part of you just wants it to all be over."

Harry stared at Draco, unable to find the words to express himself. He hated it, but Draco was right. Everything he said was one hundred percent accurate, and he had phrased it perfectly, the one thing Harry hadn't been able to do even in his own mind.

"You said his name," Harry said quietly.

"I'm not so afraid of it when I'm with you," Draco replied, sounding more honest than Harry had ever heard before.

Harry couldn't hold his gaze any longer and looked down at the ground. He felt stinging behind his eyes and he willed it away, but he couldn't. Everything he had been bottling up for months had surfaced. He hadn't cried about any of it, not once. He had yelled and shouted and taken his anger out on everyone else, but he hadn't cried.

"Harry," Draco said softly, "I don't know what's going on between us, and I don't think it matters right now. I know that I care about you, and it's a start. I want to help you, because I think I've noticed something we've got in common, and that is the blatant refusal to help ourselves. Will you help me?"

Harry looked up and felt a cold tear fall down his cheek. One look at Draco and Harry fell to pieces. For the first time he felt like he had someone he could go to for him, and not feel guilty about burdening them, and the fact that it was Draco Malfoy seemed irrelevant. Harry could feel guilt and pain, loss and fear, and he just wanted to be held.

Draco stepped forward and took Harry into his arms comfortingly, something he had never done before. Harry wrapped his arms around the other boy, who was of exact same height and build as he, and buried his face in his shoulder, breathing in Draco's soothing scent.

"It's all right," Draco soothed as he stoked Harry's back, "Shhh, it's all right."

Harry allowed his tears fall and he allowed Draco to hold him tightly, returning the embrace equally firmly. Eventually Harry stopped crying and he pulled away from Draco, although they were still close together. Draco reached out and stroked Harry's face, resting his palm on Harry's cheek. Harry twisted his face so he could kiss Draco's palm.

"Do you like me?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Harry replied certainly, "Though it escapes me why," he added cheekily, "Are we friends?"

"Yes," Draco said equally certain, "and I think we might be a little bit more than that."

"Let's not go too deep psychologically shall we," Harry said, "I don't think I can handle any meaningful discussion right now."

"Fine by me," Draco said, "we'd better get back," he added reluctantly.

"Okay," Harry said, and they began slowly walking back to the castle.

"Aren't you going to find it a bit difficult keeping this from Weasley and Granger?" Draco asked as they walked.

"Not really," Harry said, "its not like I tell them everything, and besides, I think their going to be a bit wrapped up with each other to notice where I wander off to. I hope Hermione hasn't told Ron that I know," he said contemplatively, "I could really have some fun this morning with that little piece of info."

"Am I to take this to mean that Weasley has finally figured out that he's madly in love with his gal pal for the last two years at least?" Draco asked.

"It was pretty obvious wasn't it," Harry said grinning.

"And you don't mind?" Draco asked carefully.

"Why would I mind?" Harry said smiling and taking Draco's hand, "I have you."

"How can something so cheesy make me feel like I'm going to melt," Draco said, sliding his arm around Harry's waist, not letting go until they were in clear view of the castle.

"Today is going to be a good day," Harry said as he and Draco were about to part ways, "I can tell."

"Of course it's going to be a good day," Draco said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "We have a full day of Quidditch. You love Quidditch."

Harry grinned.

"I have been known to be somewhat enthusiastic over it," he said innocently, "It'll be great to see Wood again though, he should be arriving soon."

Draco looked less enthusiastic at the prospect of seeing the old Gryffindor Quidditch captain.

"What?" Harry said at Draco's not very well hidden look of distaste.

"Oh come on," Draco said, "You know he's going to favour the Gryffindors. He'll even be more favourable to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws than Slytherin. He's seriously over competitive."

"He does love his Quidditch," Harry said, "but I'm sure he won't discriminate against the Slytherins. If for no other reason, Dumbledore wouldn't allow it."

"Right," Draco scoffed, "because Dumbledore's such a Slytherin lover. Don't you remember that stunt he pulled in our first year? Slytherin won the House Cup fair and square, and he tallied up the points purposely for a Gryffindor win. What did you lot do to deserve all those points anyway?" he asked rhetorically.

"Okay, firstly, Slytherin, fair and square? Does your house even understand that concept? And secondly, believe me when I say that we definitely earned those points, which we probably wouldn't have lost in the first place if it hadn't been for you."

"I assume you are referring to the dragon incident, and I will remind you that I got punished for that too."

"You deserved it," Harry said.

"Right back at you! Goodbye," he said and they kissed each other quickly before walking in opposite directions grinning.

Harry reached the dormitory just as Ron leapt out of bed, last one up yet again. Harry vaguely heard a 'Morning Harry' as the red head dashed into the bathroom. Harry moved around the dorm room gathering up his Quidditch stuff and stuffing it into a bag, deciding to shower after he'd spent the morning flying around on his Firebolt.

He was actually quite excited at the prospect of today's lesson. A whole morning of practical Quidditch followed by an afternoon of theory, which Harry was informed would cover over the course of the year, the History of Quidditch, Tactical Manoeuvres, Broomstick Mechanics and Care, and Current World Quidditch Affairs (namely the politics behind the game).

He was in the Common Room by eight and was met by Hermione who looked startled to see Harry standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for his friends. She walked up to Harry and poked him gently on the chest.

"What was that?" Harry asked sounding a little worried.

"Just checking you weren't an astral projection or something," she said shrugging, "What are you doing up at this time in the morning anyway?"

"I woke up early, went for a walk," Harry said dismissively.

"Did you have another dream?" Hermione asked gently.

Harry looked at Hermione. Three days ago he was sure that he would have snapped her head off for asking that, but he was surprised to find that he didn't have that anger in him anymore.

"How did you know I've been dreaming?" he asked her softly.

"Because I know you," she said, "and I know that you don't tell us because you think we'll make you talk about it, and you think we'll worry and pity you. Harry, you don't have to tell us everything, but we are your friends and we care about you, so please don't shut us out."

"Has everyone taken a Sensitivity Potion today or something," Harry said to himself.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Harry said, "Have you told Ron that I know about you two?" he asked changing the subject.

"Not yet," Hermione said.

"Don't," Harry said grinning, "at least not until after breakfast."

Hermione looked disapproving at Harry, but Harry did his best puppy dog eyes and she relented.

"Oh alright," she said, "but don't embarrass me."

"Promise," Harry said, crossing his heart with his finger, "and Hermione," he said, "thank you for caring about me," and with that he walked out of the Common Room and down to breakfast, leaving Hermione staring after him.

He had a plan to put into action.

Harry was happily eating breakfast with Seamus, Neville and Dean when Hermione and Ron entered the Great Hall. Hermione looked over nervously at Harry as she sat down, but Harry just continued to spread black-current jam on his toast smiling serenely.

"So what have you lot got today?" Harry asked casually.

"Herbology and History of Magic," Neville said, "You lot have no idea how lucky you are to get out of Professor Binns' lessons. I was certain there was no way his lessons could get even more boring, but low and behold he's managed it."

Neville had been forced to continue with History of Magic due to his expectedly poor O.W.L results. However, they were not as appalling as they could have been. Neville had actually managed to get E's in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Herbology, plus A's in Charms, History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures. These therefore, were the subjects with which he was continuing.

"Well I think we can all agree that Harry has the best deal today," Ron said, sounding a little bitter, "Quidditch all day. Its just not fair."

Hermione snorted a little louder than she had intended, achieving glares from the boys around her. It was no secret that Hermione thought that taking Quidditch as a N.E.W.T was a waste of a good qualification, but she remained silent.

"What about you Ron?" Harry asked with a mouthful of toast.

"Potions," Ron said gloomily, "all bloody day. I seriously doubt that I'm going to survive this year. A whole day of Snape, its child abuse that's what it is. At least you get two half days of the bastard, I get him all in one solid block," and with this final complaint Ron smacked his head down on the table and stayed put.

"I'm sure you and Hermione will find something to entertain yourselves with when he's not looking," Harry said casually taking another bite of toast.

Hermione visibly tensed, but said nothing and Ron looked up at Harry with a slightly confused look on his faced, mingled with a touch of panic.

Seamus snorted into his porridge, but Ron didn't notice still looking cautiously at Harry. Harry had told Seamus, Dean and Neville his plan before the other two had come down to breakfast.

"Here Ron," Dean said, getting the redheads attention, "Look over there. Lisa Turpin keeps staring at you. I think she fancies you mate."

Ron turned a deep crimson and looked sharply around to see Lisa sitting at the Ravenclaw table reading the daily Prophet.

"She keeps looking over the top of the paper when you're not looking," Seamus said, "Why don't you go over and ask her out?"

"No!" Ron exclaimed horrified, stealing a glance at Hermione who was staring adamantly at the table, looking as if she was trying very hard to block out the conversation around her.

"Why not?" Harry said, "She's gorgeous, smart, funny, and she obviously like you. Go on."

"Look, I said no, alright," Ron said, looking very awkward, "I'm not interested in her."

"How can you not be interested in her?" Neville said, "There isn't a guy in school who would turn her down if she asked him out."

"I'm just not. I'm sure she's perfectly nice but I have no desire to ask her out, now can we just drop it?" Ron said, still bright red.

"Oh my God," Dean said suddenly in false amazement, "Could it be..."

"Is it possible..." Seamus said in an equally pretensions tone.

"That our little Ron has finally woken up and realised..." Neville said.

"That he is totally besotted with one..." Harry said, grinning ready for the climax.

"Hermione Granger," all four of the boys said in unison before collapsing in fits of laughter at Ron's horror struck face.

Even Hermione was struggling not to laugh at Ron's expression as she put a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry sweetie," she said smiling.

"You told them!" Ron exclaimed.

"Actually I told Harry, well, he sort of tricked me," she said with a quick glare in the direction of the Boy Who Lived, "but the main point is that they know."

"I hate you all," Ron said in false malice, throwing a croissant at Harry's head, "especially you Potter. I'll get you back for this."

Harry had tears of mirth in his eyes as he uttered a very unconvincing apology to Ron, and his laughing only began to subside as he caught the eye of a certain someone exiting the Great Hall.

"I better get going," said Harry getting up from the table, "I'll see you later," and with that abrupt farewell, Harry hurried out into the entrance hall.

Draco was waiting for Harry at the doorway to the Hogwarts grounds leaning against a great stone pillar with his bag hung casually over his left shoulder. Harry noticed how elegant the other boy was next to himself. Same height and build, and yet Draco definitely carried it off better than Harry did.

"Hey," Harry said as he approached Draco.

"Hi," Draco said back smiling as he removed himself from his lazy looking position and walked with Harry down to the Quidditch pitch on the other side of the lake.

"Do you think we'd attract more attention to ourselves if we arrived together not fighting, or with our wands at each others throats?" Harry asked casually as they neared the pitch.

"I think we'd attract the most attention if we arrived walking together like we were this morning, but seeing as I assume you are meaning to attract little or no attention, I think we should distance ourselves slightly and put on our usual scowls."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry said, "Civil with obvious dislike. I can handle that."

Draco didn't say anything in response to this, so Harry stopped walking. Draco took a couple of steps, but quickly realised that Harry was no longer by his side.

"We're going to be late," he said looking at Harry with a slightly bemused expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, trying not to sound concerned.

"Nothing," Draco said unconvincingly, and seeing the sceptical look on Harry's face, "It doesn't matter," he insisted.

Harry still looked dissatisfied, but didn't push the topic, remembering their discussion that very morning. Some things were just easier left alone to sort themselves out.

"Do you want to meet up for lunch?" Harry asked in order to let Draco know he wasn't overtly concerned.

"Sure," Draco said, a smile reappearing on his lips, "I'll bring the food, you bring yourself and we'll meet on the far side of the lake under the shade of those very handy trees."

"Great," Harry said smiling, "until that time, watch your back, because even if we are on rather friendly terms, I still intend to win any Quidditch matches in which we may partake. I'm wildly competitive like that."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Draco said with a sly grin, "but just so you know, if anyone is going to win, it's going to be me."