Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Boxes Complete	By : TheIt Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9951 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Chapter One

The rain came down
faster and faster, harder and harder,
until no one was left standing outside. It hit the windows of the huge
building
in the background and fell down them in bucketful's. People threw their
sweaters
over their heads and ran the long road to the building. People jumped
over
puddles and some even laughed as a few unlucky ones fell in them. Mud
splattered as the people, students, ran for cover in the building,
their
school. No one noticed one without anything over their head. One not
caring as
the rain blurred their vision because their vision was already blurred.
Not
even this person's closest friends stopped running to wait for them, a
boy,
around the age of seventeen, to catch up. No one cared because no one
noticed.

This boy walked slowly.
His head down. His vision blurred
from the rain and something more salty that was that was dripping down
his
cheeks. He had never cried in public before, but he didn't care,
because no one
saw him. He looked up momentarily to watch as couples ran, holding
hands, back
to their school. It had been a weekend off and the rain had ruined it,
but this
boy could care less. He loved the rain. He loved the way it made him
feel.
Clean. Refreshed. New. He loved how the rain could wash away everything
and
anything, and he especially loved the after rain smell. Like everything
was
perfectly and completely clean and spotless.

He stopped and changed
courses, not heading for the doors
to the school like the others. No. He was going to do what he always
did during
rain. Sit in it. Sit in it and think. Think about everything. Life,
death,
love, hope. Everything. The rain was the one time he could be in
perfect
silence. In perfect harmony with himself and no one would bug him
because no
one dared to go out in the rain. He mentally told himself that after
school he
was moving somewhere where it rained all the time. He smiled slightly.
He
hadn't really smiled in over two years. Just slight smiles or small
smiles or
nothing at all. He had not laughed either because he had not felt any
emotion
good enough to laugh at. He had grown silent. Grown away. Grown up
faster than
everyone else. Because he had to. He had to do this. He had to be in
the
shadows.

He shook his head,
clearing his thoughts and walked
silently towards his destination. He had stumbled across it one day,
literally.
He had fallen in love with the place immediately. He moved a large,
heave
branch out of his way and came to a stone wall with ivy growing all
over it. He
brushed away the beautiful plant and slipped though the small alcove in
the
wall. A person of normal height would not have been able to fit, but he
was
very small for his age. Only reaching about five feet six inches and
weighing
just over one hundred pounds he was the smallest in his year, and two
years
after him, just barely reaching the height of an average fifth year. If
people
thought this was strange they said nothing, and he was glad.

He sat up from his
crawling and stood slowly, dusting off
the knees of his trousers as he went. He moved with a sort of strange
grace
that kept him on his feet. He silently walked up to a very round tree.
So big
in fact that he could not even reach around it. He knocked on the tree
six
times and a small handle appeared. He smiled. He liked what he had done
with
the place. He had added the wall, the alcove, the ivy, the hole in the
tree and
the roof. Bending down he pulled out the box that was hidden in the
tree and
kicked the small door closed. He sat down on the soft ground, something
else he
had altered, and looked ahead. Rain was falling down the invisible
wall, not
touching anything in the area this boy sat. It was hard and heavy rain
just the
way he liked it.

He blinked and tore his
eyes away from the mesmerizing
drips to open the chest, now at his level. He slipped his fingers under
the
finger holes and jitters as they bit him. No one but himself could this
box.
He slid the top off slowly and looked inside, making sure, like he
always did,
that nothing was missing before pulling out the thick wad of
photographs and
albums. He has thirty-nine in there. Thirty-nine photo books. One for
each
seventh year, minus himself. Even the ones he did not like. He had
asked the
Headmaster for some of the later photos, because, like the saying goes
‘walls
have eyes and ears’ and the eyes of their school’s walls took pictures
for the
very reason he required them. He had begged the headmaster to let him
do it
this year and, of course, the old man agreed. So there he was, making
thirty-nine photo albums with care and love for people he didn’t even
know.

He ran his hand over
his completed ones. Thirty of them.
Each seventh year name engraved on the top cover along with “Your Years
Here”
in silver, gold, bronze or black writing and their house and any main
thing
they did, such as play a sport. Silver for the snakes, gold for the
lions,
bronze for the ravens and black for the badgers. The badgers and ravens
were
complete and half of each of the snakes and lions were done. It was
down to
four in the lions and five in the snakes, not including himself.

He reached for the top
of the last nine empty books and
looked at the name. ‘Seamus Finnigan, Gryffindor Chaser’. The boy
inwardly
smiled. Seamus used to always make him smile. Not anymore. Nothing
could. He
grabbed the pile of Seamus’ pictures and set them in the book with
care, love
and hope for the future. He did Lavender Brown next. Hers said,
‘Lavender
Brown, Top Divination Student.’ He worked silently on Lavender’s before
coming
across one of his friends books. He
ran his hand over the name and looked at
the next one. His other friend was
next then it was onto the other house and even more memories. He held
the one
in his hands for a while, staring at the engraving and wondering what
had
happened between them.

He blinked back tears
and opened the book, but not without
one more hand run over of her name. ‘Hermione Granger, Head Girl’. He
silently
put pictures of himself, Hermione and his other friend in six of their
seven
years there but as he got to the seventh year there were less and less
pictures
of him and more and more pictures of just the two of them. Kissing,
hugging,
and holding each other, flying, just plain together. He remembered when
they
told him. They were bursting with excitement and had just spat it out
at him,
then expected him to be happy for them. And he was. It was just sudden
and
shocking—well not that shocking; just sudden. He stayed silent in shock
a
moment too long, and before he knew it the two were gone. They had not
said a
word to him since.

He put the last two
Gryffindor books together and glanced
at his watch. Dinner was coming up. He sighed mentally and packed up
his things
before slipping the box back into the holed out tree. He stretched and
pushed
his glasses up on his face before crawling out of the alcove. It was
raining
still, down to a drizzle, but the boy did not mind. He walked almost
silently
back to school knowing that no one would have noticed that he was gone.
He
licked his dry lips and wandered into the school though a different
passageway
then the one he had used to get out.

He thought as he
walked. About everything. He seemed to be
thinking a lot lately. Wondering what he was going to do with his life
after
school. When the two had gotten together the boy had thrown himself
into his
studies and now was at number three in all of his classes, except
Defense
against the Dark Arts, where he was number one in the whole school,
barely
ahead of Draco Malfoy at number two. He was number two in Potions,
shockingly,
but mainly because Hermione had dropped back after the start of her
relationship with Ron Weasley.

He sighed out loud when
he found himself standing in front
of the Great Hall. He pushed the large oak doors open and heads turned
to look
at him before they sighed collectively and they started whispering,
“Typical”,
as they moved back to eat. He strode silently, almost as if he was
floating a
centimeter above the ground, to his seat at the Gryffindor table. His
normal
dinner appeared on the plate in front of him and he vaguely wished he
had a
Potions text to read while he ate.

Up at the high table a
few professors watched the quiet
Gryffindor whose marks had shot up in their classes. They looked at
each other
and shook their heads; all wondering what had made Harry Potter reduce
to
silence.

Across the hall sat a
Slytherin. A Slytherin who was, at
the moment, confused. He had been watching Harry Potter for years now
and could
not understand why the boy - or was it young man? – had become so quiet
as of
late. He spoke when he was called on in class and when he had a
question, but
other then that he did not say a word. He also did not understand why
the boy
was so small. He looked almost delicate. Almost as though, if you
hugged him to
hard he would break. The Slytherin also silently wondered why he was so
far
away from his friends, who were the life of the Gryffindor table.
Something
must have happened between them. But what?
It was a question that had been on a lot of people’s minds when
the trio
first broke up, but most people just thought that Harry felt like a
third wheel
when around Ron and Hermione. Guess that was wrong.

The Slytherin sighed
and wished his life was different,
before going back to his food and eating peacefully.

Harry played with his
food. He really wasn’t all that
hungry, but he knew that the professors were worried about him, so he
ate
anyways. It seemed that these days only the professors really cared
about him.
Well, cared about him and showed it. He looked down the table and
frowned. He
missed his best friends, even if they didn’t miss him back. He looked
around
and his frown became deeper.

Almost every seventh
year was together with someone. Ron
and Hermione. Seamus and Dean. Lavender and Anthony Goldstein. Ginny
and
Neville. In fact there were only three seventh years that did not have
a
significant other. Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Harry Potter.
Harry
silently suspected that Pansy was gay and had a lover out of school.
Either
that, or she was dating someone younger or older than her and no one
knew.

Harry sighed again and
pushed his plate away. He sat in
silence, like normal, until the noise of the Great Hall reached its
normal high
before he stood and wandered out of the large room. He shoved his hands
into
his pockets and blew his messy hair out of his eyes. He was halfway to
the
hallway that would take him to the Quidditch Pitch when he heard, “Hey,
Potter,
wait up!”

Slowly he turned
around, recognizing the voice
immediately. Draco Malfoy stood behind him, a hand holding his side. He
had run
to catch up.

“For a short guy you
sure are
fast.”

Harry said nothing,
just watched the blonde haired
Slytherin in front of him catch his breath. Draco was much taller then
he was
and he had to look up to meet his eyes but, personally, Harry didn’t
want to,
so he was glad that he just stared ahead.

“Going silent on me?”
Malfoy sighed, “I should have
guessed. What’s the point trying to talk to you when all you do is
stare
ahead?”

“Why do you want to
talk to me in the first place,
Malfoy?” Harry spoke, softly.

Malfoy shrugged, “Who
knows? Something came over me and I
had the strangest feeling that I should follow you. Also I wanted to
give you
this.” Malfoy held out his hand and in it rested a necklace. Harry
looked at it
and absentmindedly brought his hand up to his neck. No necklace.

Harry looked up at the
tall Slytherin and whispered,
“Thank you. It’s important to me. I would have screamed if I lost it.”

Malfoy smirked, “I
doubt you would have screamed but I
know that you’d be upset. I noticed how you always seem to have it with
you.”
He held the necklace gently in his fingers at the clasp and brought it
up so it
was floating in front of the shorter boys eyes. “What does it mean?”

“It’s the Potter Family
Crest. Mine. Each Potter has a different
crest. That’s mine.”

Malfoy nodded and
looked closer at the pendent hanging on
the end of the gold chain. It was a shield shape with a stag and a lily
flower
on it. The stag’s eyes were bright emeralds as was the middle of the
lily. The
stag and flower surrounded a larger P in the middle. He nodded, “I
understand
what the lily flower means. Your mothers name was Lily wasn’t it?”

Harry nodded.

“But why the stag?”

“My father was a stag
in his Animagus form. It also is the
form of my Patronus.”

Harry
mentally slapped himself. Why did he just tell that to Malfoy of all
people?
Maybe because the blonde was the first person, besides the professors,
to
actually talk to him, he mused. He also was, mentally of course,
jumping up and
down on the fact that someone, even if it was his rival, was talking to
him and
not insulting him. It was quiet nice, when he thought about it, but he
knew it
would not last.

“Why
are you really here, Malfoy?”

Malfoy
blinked and looked at the green eyed boy in front of him, who was now
staring
at his shoes in morbid fascination.

“What, I’m
not allowed to have after dinner strolls with my rival every once in a
while?”
the Slytherin smirked.

“No.”
The answer was fast and not thought about.

“Why
not?”

“Because
I didn’t invite you to come with me.”

“But you
want me to. Face it Potter, at this point in your life, anyone talking
to you
is better than no one.”

Insanely
green eyes stared up into greyish silver ones and he turned on his heel
to walk
the rest of the way down the hallway. Malfoy stood there for a moment
before he
shrugged once again and followed the Gryffindor. The
two walked in perfect sync and in perfect
silence for almost an hour.

Malfoy
used his time to actually look at his strange companion.
He still had the same messy, midnight black
hair as he had when the two had first met all those years ago in Madame
Malkin's. The same emerald green eyes, so bright that you could not
stare into
them for too long before you had to look away. Eyes that someone could
get lost
in. He had a different pair of glasses, these one where nowhere near
the same
as his old thick black frames that had taken up half of his face and
adverted
the persons attention away from the eyes hidden behind them. His new
frames
were smaller and still black, as the colour seemed to fit him in a
strange way.
He was skinny, very skinny. To Malfoy’s eyes he looked as if he
weighted
somewhere around one hundred pounds. And he was short, only looking
around five
feet six inches. Even closer to him now he seemed almost delicate and
pure.

Malfoy
sighed inwardly. He literally towered over him at his shocking height
of six
feet. And he could probably bench press the small boy. Malfoy had at
least a
good fifty pounds on him. He paused a moment and purposely fell into
step
behind the quiet boy, just watching him. Even though he was so small he
was
attractive. In his own way. He seemed to have grown into his messy
locks and it
looked natural on him now more than ever. Before, his said hair had
looked like
a mop tossed on his head to cover up something. And it now looked soft.
Like
something you could run your fingers through forever.

He watched
as Harry paused and turned around, “Is there a reason why you are now
walking
behind me?” This was all said in a very soft and quiet voice.

“I’m
trying to figure you out. No one can, you know. No one understands why
you
don’t talk anymore. It’s all this huge mystery. Everyone has mainly
given up. I
haven’t. I’m curious and a people watcher.”

“Never
would have guessed that.” He trekked forward before sharply turning
into a
tapestry and vanishing behind it.

Malfoy,
confused but curious as ever, followed. He showed no emotion except the
widening of his eyes as they entered a long narrow hallway. Harry
rolled his
robe off his shoulders and hung it up on a hook that appeared out of
nowhere
before slipping his shoes off silently. Malfoy followed his actions and
as soon
as his feet were out of his shoes the floor and hallway transformed
into a more
plush and comfortable looking hallway. They stood on thick cream carpet
and the
walls were a deep red.

The
Gryffindor nodded and walked down the hallway before choosing one of
the many
doors and opening it wide. He entered the room and Malfoy followed,
looking at
the many paintings that lined the walls. Each painting had a welcoming
look on
its face and nodded as he walked to the open door that the black haired
young
man had just entered. He entered the room and looked around, noticing
first the
non-moving painting above the large fireplace. It was of a red haired
woman
doing some kind of dance in a very swirly type red dress that went well
with
her hair. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were closed but she had
this
look of utter determination on her face that made Malfoy himself feel
like he
should be determined about something, anything.

“That’s my
mother.” Malfoy tore his eyes away from the painting and blinked at
Harry, who
was standing near the large windows that did not show the Hogwarts
grounds.
Instead they bore an uncanny liking to the grounds at his own home.

“No, we
are not in Hogwarts but yet at the same time we are. The door in the
corner
leads out to the Potter Manor. A Manor that has not been inhabited
since my
parents died. You exit the door behind you and you are in Hogwarts once
again.
This room is a room that cannot be entered from the Potter Manor, only
from
Hogwarts, and yet I can enter the Manor from here. No one but people
who find
this hallway and are worthy of it will be able to enter and use these
rooms.”

Malfoy’s
eyes widened. That had been the longest Potter had spoke in years
without being
in a classroom.

“Why
are we here?”

“Simple.
It’s where I come to think after lights out and I can’t go outside.”

“Outside?”

“Yes.”

Malfoy
nodded and did not pressure him. He fell into a comfortable chair in
front of
the large desk. He looked around the room some more, noticing small
odds and
ends in the room. It was a very Gryffindor-ish room. The walls were a
light red
and the carpet was a cream colour. The chairs were made of the best
black
leather and the desk was a deep rich red wood. Sitting on the desk were
photo
books and photos and papers and quills and everything you’d ever need
on a desk
including three pictures. One of Harry’s parents only. One of his
father,
godfather, their old professor and his mother and one of Ron and
Hermione and
the Weasley family. He looked up from the desk and at Harry’s form near
the
windows.

“I know
where your loyalties lie.” It was sudden and abrupt and caused the
blonde
Slytherin to stare at the back of the Gryffindor Seeker with a shocked
look on
his face before he got angry.

“How?”
he snapped.

“No,
Dumbledore did not tell me. We do not speak anymore unless it is
necessary. I
figured it out myself.”

Malfoy
looked down at his hands, which were held together by his legs. He was
hunched
forward slightly and his feet were firmly together, as were his legs.
He seemed
to be devouring
the
information the other boy had just told him with a look of
concentration on his
face, but a bit of confusion poked out also. Harry said nothing about
it. He
crossed the rooms in a few strides and thrust his hand under the blonde
boy’s
nose.

“Truce?” he asked
plainly and very
calmly.

The Head Boy blinked
and stared at the hand in front of
him, offering something to him that he wasn’t sure he was worthy of.
Being a
friend to Harry Potter meant more than just being a friend. It meant
being a
person who would stand beside him whenever he needed it. It meant that
he would
have to be there whenever the boy needed him. It meant that Harry would
shove
his life on Draco’s shoulders and trust him enough to keep it there. It
meant
that Harry would trust him and Harry’s trust was very hard to come by.

“You can’t be serious,”
Draco said with a shrug. He moved
to stand but Harry did not.

“I have never, in my
entire life, been surer about
something. I want a truce with you. Now. It will be the only offer.”

Draco’s mouth dropped
open and he did nothing to hide the
shock that crept onto his face before it morphed into a smirk, “You can
not
literally want a truce with me. I mean, we hate each other.”

“Hate is a very strong
word. There are only two people I
really hate in the world and you are not one of them.”

Draco rolled his eyes,
“Sure
Potter. Who do you ‘hate’?”

“Voldemont and Peter
Pettigrew. I never have hated you and
never will. Yes I have disliked you at times, but not all the time.
Yes, you
have been annoying but then again we were young. We were doing what we
were supposed
to do. Think about it, Draco. Have you ever really hated me?”

Draco was shocked again
as the Seeker in front of him said
his first name for the first time ever. Harry was shocked, internally,
too. It
felt almost natural as the name slipped off his tongue. Too natural.

“Why?”

“I need you on my
side.”

“Your side?”

“Yes.”

“Why not Dumbledore’s
side?”

“Has Dumbledore done
anything besides help me learn to
fight in this war so far?”

Draco looked down, “Not
that I
know of.”

“Because he hasn’t.”

“Why me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.” Draco said it
like it was
the most obvious thing in the world.

“No one would suspect
it.”

The Slytherin looked
down again,
“Is that the only reason?”

Harry was silent for a
second and Draco once again moved
to stand, taking his silence as an answer. But the shorter boy stepped
in front
of him stopping any movement to rise from the chair.

“Am I not allowed to
pause and think?” Bitterness filled
his voice and Draco had the strangest feeling that he was about to
learn
something not many people knew.

“Of course you are.”

“Then why did you take
my silence
for an answer?”

“I’m not used to having
people be silent after I ask them
a question. I assumed you had nothing more to say to me. Did you have
more?”

“I hate it when people
take silence or shock for an answer
and just get up and leave.”

Draco blinked and
thought those words though his head over
again, reading in-between the lines.

“That’s what Weasley
and Granger did, wasn’t it? They took
your shock at them being a couple as a bad thing and just left before
you could
explain.

“You are very good at
catching the point of something
without having someone having to say it. Yes. That is exactly what
happened and
yes I had more I wanted to talk to you about. No, no one suspecting is
not the
only reason.”

“Then what is?”

“I need someone I can
count on and I know that all the
Gryffindors support Ron and Hermione now more than ever. They seem to
think I
am turning evil and that is the reason why I have gone silent. If they
knew the
real reason,” he paused and looked away, closing his eyes and taking a
few deep
breaths before continuing, “Anyways. Not only do I need someone I,
personally,
am sick of this childish fighting that goes on between us. I want a
truce for
more reasons than the ones I told you.”

“You just don’t want a
truce… you
want a friendship.”

“That too.”

Draco sighed and shook
his head, wondering what he was
getting himself into as a he grasped the hand that Harry had shoved
back out
under his nose and shook it. The Gryffindor smiled at him, the first
genuine
smile on his face in months, and helped Draco to his feet. Finally
Draco asked
the question that had been bugging him since the two had started
talking, “How
tall are you?”

Harry did not laugh but
gained an amused smile and shook
his head before answering, “5’4”.”

“Thought so.”

The Golden Boy rolled
his eyes and walked out of the room
with Draco close on his heels, firing off question after question about
him and
answering them with as much truth as he could. He mentally told himself
that he
would have to sit down and tell Draco everything, but that was for a
different
time and a more private place.

The Slytherin looked
around suddenly, realizing that he
was heading in the opposite direction to the common room. He stopped
and turned
around to leave, when a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him behind the
nearest
suit of armor. Harry shoved his other hand over the mouth of the Head
Boy and
froze in place. The two were very close. Footsteps filled the corridor
and a
meow followed. Filch was making his nightly rounds.

“Anything down there,
my sweet?” the caretaker asked his
cat who just meowed and wandered off.

Harry moved his hand
and Draco let out the breath he
didn’t know he had been holding.

“I’m Head Boy! I’m
allowed to be
out of bed.”

“You are allowed to be
out of bed alone. Are you?”

Draco looked down,
knowing the Gryffindor was right, “No.”
He looked up, confused, “How did you know that?”

“You don’t think I
wasn’t offered it? I told Dumbledore I
didn’t want it and told him to give it to someone who deserved it but
to make
sure it was not a Gryffindor because I knew that Hermione was going to
named
Head Girl. I also refused the offer to be Quidditch Captain. The only
proposal
I did accept was the offer for my own quarters. It’s not safe for you
to walk
back to your common room especially since you could be seen up here. No
one
knows of this place besides the teachers and Filch. Come on. I have an
extra
room.”

Draco took in the
information and said nothing as he
followed Harry down the passageway and up a set of stairs.

“Why didn’t you accept
the offer
to be Quidditch Captain?”

Harry was soundless for
a moment before answering, “You
can’t really be silent and be a Quidditch Captain now can you?”

Draco grinned but said
nothing.
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