Кассандра Клэр - Draco Dormiens

"You heard me," said Ron. "You big stupid nitwit, it's written all over your face, are you ever going to say anything?"

Fred and George had come out from under the hood now, and were listening in with great interest.

Harry looked at his juice. "I did tell her," he said.

"When?" demanded Ron.

"When I was falling off the cliff," said Harry. "Just right before my sleeve came off.

I told her I loved her."

"Way to do the exit line," said Fred, sounding deeply impressed.

"Yeah, it's almost too bad we saved you," added George, "her whole life, she'd never have forgotten you if that was the last thing you ever said to her."

"Right. That's how I want Hermione to remember me for the rest of her life," said Harry. "Bottomless Pit Guy."

"Better than Way Too Late Guy," said Ron. "Better than Just Stood Back Like A Prat And Watched Her Go Off With Malfoy Guy."

Harry upset his pumpkin juice. "You're not helping," he said. "Anyway, I'm not sure she even heard me."

"One way to find out, isn't there?" said Ron.

Sirius loped over the silvery-dark grounds swiftly, skirting anything that looked like it might be a nasty obstacle of some sort. Although he was fairly sure he was safe in dog form, he didn't want to run into anything that would slow him down.

His suspicions that Draco hadn't gone very far were confirmed as he neared a small stand of trees, shadowy and spectral in the darkness. Sirius turned back into a man and ducked under the outer branches.

Draco was sitting with his bank to the trunk of a tree. His legs were drawn up, his head on his knees. He reminded Sirius oddly of Narcissa, perhaps because he looked so vulnerable, and his hair, like hers, was white-silver in the moonlight.

As Sirius approached him, Draco's arm shot out, holding his wand. He directed it at Sirius and said, "Don't come any closer."

"It's me," said Sirius calmly.

"I know who it is," said Draco, raising his head. "And I said not to come any closer."

Sirius reached into his pocket, drew out his own wand, and laid it on the ground.

Draco watched him warily.

"You have great reflexes," said Sirius, straightening up. "You're on the Slytherin house team, aren't you? What position do you play?"

"Seeker," said Draco.

"You should be a Beater," said Sirius. "You're quite strong, as well."

"You're the second person who's told me that in the past two days," said Draco in a monotone. "Why are you here, anyway? You didn't chase me down to talk about sports."

Sirius sat down and leaned his back against a tree trunk opposite Draco, who was still holding the wand on him. "I guess I wanted to tell you," said Sirius, "that you remind me of someone I knew when I went to Hogwarts."

"Really," said Draco, without much interest. "Who? My dad?"

"No," said Sirius. "Me."

Draco laughed shortly. "I don't believe that," he said. "You? You were Harry's dad's best friend, my father told me all about you and James Potter. You were in Gryffindor house, you were do-gooders, you were just…like…Harry," he said, with emphasis.

"Maybe James was," said Sirius. "But I was always the bad kid, the do-wrong kid.

My parents…well, you don´t want to hear about that. Suffice it to say I didn´t have the happy home life James did. We were roommates my first year, in Gryffindor, and I hated him."

"You hated him?" Draco was interested now, despite himself.

"Sure, I did. He was an excellent student, nice, great Quidditch player, everyone liked him, and he seemed to be able to be good without trying. Whereas I always went with my first instinct, which was usually bad. And I was always in trouble for fighting. I beat up Severus Snape more times than you can count, sometimes for no reason. Okay, always for no reason, unless you count that he was a slimy little git and I loathed him. Dumbledore despaired of me."

Now Draco looked astonished. "You were in trouble with Dumbledore?"

"All the time," said Sirius.

"Now don't tell me," Draco interjected, "then one day James saved you from a horrible fate, and you realized what a great guy he was after all and you were friends ever after."

"No," said Sirius, "actually, one day I finally pissed him off royally, and he threw a punch at me. I hit him back, of course. Actually, we beat the hell out of each other. Dumbledore forbid Madam Pomfrey to fix our cuts and bruises, so we just had to heal the old-fashioned way, locked up together in the hospital wing. When we came out, we were friends, and stayed friends."

"Are you suggesting I beat the hell out of Harry?" asked Draco, with a shadow of his old grin. "Because that's the kind of advice I could really get into."

"If you want his friendship, it's an unorthodox way to go about it. Is that what you want?"

"No," said Draco. "Oh, hell." He lowered his wand. "I don't know."

Sirius was very still. "I learned a lot of things about myself in Azkaban," he said. "I thought about James a lot, as well. I realized that part of the reason we'd been such great enemies and then such great friends was that we were so alike. Proud.

Stubborn. Determined…"

Draco grinned again, a little more strongly this time. "When did Dog Man become Advice Man?" he said.

"Obnoxious," added Sirius. "I forgot obnoxious."

"I do see what you're getting at," Draco admitted. "But I'm not like Harry. I should know. When the Polyjuice spell was working…it was like someone switched a light on inside my head and I could see into every part of my mind, knew why I was doing things, knew what I wanted, knew what the right thing to do was, and wanted to do it. And now…" He snapped his fingers. "It's gone."

"What you're saying," said Sirius gently, "Is that when you had Harry in you, you could be good without trying. Now you'll just have to try. Like the rest of us do."

"Don't preach at me," said Draco. "I hate that." But he didn't look angry. He looked sad, and even more like Narcissa, with the same pale and melancholy beauty. "There's still no point in my going back with you," he said. "They hate me now."

"No, they don't. Harry doesn't hate you, and Hermione definitely doesn't hate you."

Draco looked at Sirius quickly. "Did she say — anything?"

"If you want to know what Hermione's thinking, you'll have to ask her," said Sirius. "Trust me on that one. She's that kind of girl."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" asked Draco, squinting up at Sirius.

"I told you," said Sirius. "You remind me of me. And besides, I think Harry needs you."

"Harry doesn't need someone like me."

"That's where you're wrong," said Sirius. "He needs you a lot more than you think.

Now come on." He reached down a hand, and Draco took it. Sirius helped him to his feet. "I should tell you the Weasleys are here," he said.

"Okay, I know they hate me," said Draco with finality.

"No, they don´t," Sirius began, and stopped. "Okay, they do. But as a wise man once said to me, if you´re holding out for universal popularity, you´re going to be here a long time."

"Hermione." It was Harry's voice. She opened her eyes and looked up. He was standing over her, a cloudy Harry-shaped shadow backlit by a canopy of stars. For a second she just smiled up at him — it was like a lot of dreams she'd had, and she thought she might not quite be awake. In her dreams, though, Harry hadn't been looking quite so anxious.

"Harry," she said, sitting up. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," he said, looking at her with a funny expression. "Will you walk with me?"

"Where?"

"Just a little way," he said. "I don't want to be overheard."

"Okay," she said, getting to her feet and following him. He was walking away from the car, along the side of the chasm.