Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

The dark opening in the wall closed up behind Hermione and Ron, and Harry felt a wave of fear wash over him. It had taken every bit of self-control he had not to try to stop them, and because his concern was magnified by the sight of them going, the sight of Hermione looking back over her shoulder briefly, her eyes worried and dark and fixed on his, almost undid him.

He turned away, fell back against the wall, leaning hard against it, and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, the first thing he saw was Draco, looking back at him, his gray eyes very wide and nearly transparent in the glare of the blue light.

Draco, chameleon-like, usually had the ability to look at home in almost any setting. Now, however, he looked extraordinarily uncomfortable, as if he very much wished to be somewhere else and in fact was imagining that he was somewhere else. He almost didn´t seem to see Harry at all, or at least his eyes didn´t focus on him properly until Harry moved, his hand going to his throat, taking the Epicyclical Charm by its chain, and drawing it over his head. He held it up, dangling it in front of Dracoś eyes, and said, "What the hell was this about, Malfoy?"

Now Draco reacted. He smiled, his eyes on the Charm. "Happy Birthday?" he suggested gently.

Harry blinked, surprised. He had forgotten that it was his birthday in two weeks. The fact that Draco had actually remembered this was also disturbing, but not in any way that he wanted to tackle at the moment.

"You couldn´t have maybe gotten me a watch?" he said irritably instead. "Or you, know, maybe not cut a big hole in my arm? In honor of the occasion."

"Itś not that big a hole in your arm," Draco pointed out.

"What was that? Was that an apology? Oh, wait, no, that was just you being obnoxious some more."

"Last time I apologized to you, you told me to sod off."

Harry blinked. He had no recollection of Draco having apologized to him, at any point. His memory of pretty much everything after Draco had told him about his parents, up to the point where Fleur and Slytherin had come in on them, was a blur of shrieking noise, splattering blood, and a white blank buzzing in his head. "You apologized?"

"Profusely." The side of Dracoś mouth twitched. Harry looked at him suspiciously.

"So do it again."

"What? Apologize?"

"Yeah."

"I apologized to you once. You threw in back in my face. The day I apologize to you again, Satan will be ice-skating to work."

"Why? Didn't your father teach you good manners?"

Draco flinched imperceptibly, even though his expression didn't alter. "Would it mean anything to you even if I did? If I apologized again?"

"Do you think it's that easy?" Harry felt his anger rise again. "One word, and it all goes away?" His hands were clenched. "Well, just to let you know it's not."

"I know." Draco took a deep breath. "What do you want to do then?

Hit me?"

"No I don't." Harry paused. "That doesn't hurt enough."

"You don't want to?" Draco smiled humorlessly. "I doubt that. If I were you, I'd want to hit me. Sometimes I want to hit me."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"All right, then," said Harry, and drew back his fist and punched him hard in the stomach.

— Several minutes later-

"Sorry, Malfoy."

"Urgh."

"I´m really sorry. I didn´t know you were wounded. You should have said something."

"Urgh," said Draco again, and sat up, gingerly. The moment Harryś first had made contact with him, he had turned white, doubled over and dropped like a rock, with his hands wrapped around his stomach. When he took them away, there was blood on his fingers.

Harry had been completely astounded. He hadn´t hit the other boy that hard, had he? He had fallen to his knees next to Draco, who had grabbed him by the front of his robe and told him in very profane terms exactly how much it hurt getting punched in the stomach when one already had a sword wound there, and how, if Draco could actually stand up, he would make Harry very sorry indeed.

Visions of all the punching fights they´d already been in danced in Harryś head. He´d never actually managed to knock Draco down with one punch before. He didn´t feel too good about it at the moment, though.

"So much for hitting me not hurting enough," said Draco, when he got his breath back, and stopped swearing. "In retrospect, not an accurate theory."

"Why haven´t you fixed it?" Harry demanded, absently looping the Epicyclical Charm back around his neck because it was too much trouble holding it in his hand. "Why walk around with a big cut if you don´t need to?"

"Keeps me honest." Draco sat up, touched his fingers carefully to his side, flinched, and shook his head. "My father used to say…"

He broke off, leaning back against the wall as if he were very tired.

"What?" said Harry, curious.

"Nothing." Draco touched his side again, and winced.

"Something about pain?"

He shut his eyes. Let it go, Potter.

Harry jumped. "What are you doing, Malfoy?"

Don´t talk out loud. Not that it probably matters, but. I have some things I need to tell you.

Harryś eyes darted around the room. But… can´t he hear us?

Not according to Fleur.

I think I missed the part where I believe anything she says. As a matter of fact, I may have missed the part where I believe anything you say.

Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry tensely. Would I have given you the Charm, the means to kill me, if I wasn´t to be trusted?

You know I wouldn´t use it.

Sure you would.

Harry wasn´t sure whether or not to be appalled. Even if I wanted you dead — that would be a cowardly way of killing anyone.

Dracoś eyes were fixed on Harry. You´d do it if you had to. What if I was threatening Hermione? You wouldn´t believe what you´re capable of, Potter, if you´re pushed. You´re not all that different from me. Not really.

Let me get this straight. Harry felt his head beginning to hurt. You gave me the Charm to show I could trust you. Did you have some kind of a plan?

I did have a plan. But there was a tiny flaw in that plan.

Which was?

It was bollocks.

Harry rolled his eyes. Have you got a better plan, now?

No. I´ve got no plan. I´m just winging it. But thereś something you need to know.

Is this something thatś going to really, really upset me?

Draco paused for a moment. Yes.

Is it absolutely necessary that I know this?

Another pause. Yes.

Fine. What is it?

Sirius is here, in the castle.

Harryś heart leaped up and banged painfully against his ribcage.

What? Where?

In the dungeon.

Slytherin threw him in the dungeon?

No. Draco tilted up his head, and looked Harry directly in the eyes. I threw him in the dungeon.

A long moment of silence. Harry silently counted to ten, which didn´t help at all. When he spoke again, he could hear the ice in his own voice. "It just never stops with you, does it?"

Dracoś eyes narrowed. He began to get to his feet, bracing his hands against the wall. Harry got up, standing as Draco was standing, not wanting the other boy towering over him.

"And you told me this why?" said Harry. "Do you want me to hate you?"

"I told you because itś the truth and you should know it," said Draco, tonelessly.

"Now thereś a new attitude coming from you," snarled Harry. "I thought your idea of the right way to handle these things was to wait until you needed a wall broken down, and then hey, out with the truth! Letś see how hacked off Harry can get! Letś tell him all about his dead parents! Letś throw his godfather in jail for a lark!"

Dracoś eyes had narrowed to slits. "Congratulations," he said. "You have truly perfected the fine art of whining. Did you ever think that maybe this had nothing to do with you?"