Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The End Shall Come, And We Will Dance Forever	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimers: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, and Warner Bros. I make nothing from this. In fact, I lose money to write this, so… no suing, ‘kay?

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Disclaimers: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, Warner Bros, and some other companies that are NOT me. I make nothing from this. In fact, I lose money to write this, so… no suing, ‘kay?

Warnings: Angst, language, OOC, 7th year timeline based upon OotP – Disregarding HBP and DH, slash

Chapter Nine – In the Face of Change

The day passed by both achingly slow and terrifyingly quick. Ever since stopping Longbottom and Potter outside the Great Hall during breakfast, Draco had been unable to concentrate on his classes. Luckily, none of his teachers said anything, no doubt blaming his inattention to the fact that he had been attacked lately. And, since it covered up what was really wrong with him, he didn’t disabuse them of that notion.

His real problem? The look in Potter’s eyes as he teased him about being rude. It had been soft, almost a caress. It reminded him of the way the other boy’s body felt pressed next to his as they made their way to the Infirmary. (His mind was actively rejecting the memory of Longbottom being there and touching him as well.) It also brought to his mind the way he sounded as he groaned while in his bed, those many weeks ago.

It made him want.

And that could be very dangerous.

The contents of his father’s last letter left him feeling hollow, terrified. If he didn’t make some ‘progress’ towards the Dark Lord’s goals, he knew that he wouldn’t be returning to Hogwarts in the spring term. And if word got back to his home about his wanting… The thought made him shiver.

So, when he knocked on the door of the room on the seventh floor, next to the picture of the trolls in tutus, he prayed to Merlin that he was doing the right thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The day had gone by too slow. It felt as if every time Malfoy’s grey eyes met Harry’s that he wanted to drag the other boy out of the class, no matter which they were in. ‘Surely, that isn’t normal?’

And Neville wasn’t the only one who was watching him carefully all day, either. For some reason, his ‘best friends’ had made a point to be stuck to him like glue. It was impossible to miss the looks and snarls that Ron threw in Malfoy’s direction, or those all-knowing glances Hermione gave him. The other Gryffindors decided, wisely, to refrain from doing anything suspicious, and that had Harry’s hackles up more than anything else.

Lunch was a very tense time for him, since Hermione and Ron were plastered to his sides as if nothing had changed. And what irritated him the most was that their blatant behavior forced Neville to sit on the other side of the table.

And it only got worse when they reached Defense with Remus, their last class of the day. As per usual, every time a question was asked, Hermione’s hand was the first in the air, and because she had demanded to sit next to Harry for that period, she’d managed to elbow him a few lucky times. By the time that the class let out, the dark haired boy was fuming, his entire body rigid with the desire to lash out at the girl.

It didn’t help that he knew his real friend was sitting behind him, being forced away by Ron Weasley, or that he could feel those steely grey eyes on him when he’d snorted at one too many of Hermione’s pompously incorrect answers. I mean, didn’t she understand that manticorns weren’t anything like unicorns. She was supposed to be smart.

So, when Remus asked him to stay behind, Harry took a deep breath and nodded as genially as he could. He couldn’t decide if he was more angry or amused when Ron and Draco seemed to fight to get the other out of the room so they could stay.

“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, and Miss Granger, I understand that you all have your own reasons for wanting to be here. Nonetheless, I’m going to ask you to leave, immediately,” the werewolf said, his normally gentle voice laced with an edge that made the teens all flinch. The Gryffindors all gave a final look at Harry before they complied, but Draco was the one that Harry watched. The blond nodded silently and then left the room with a swish of robes that he learned from Snape, no doubt.

“Harry, what was that all about?” Remus asked, drawing the boy’s attention to his honorary godfather.

“What was what?” The boy shook his head dismally. ‘There’s just too much that it could be.’

“I meant class. I can smell your frustration with Ron and Hermione. What’s happened?”

Harry debated lying; it was easy after all, but ultimately useless. “I dunno, Remus,” he said, taking a seat near the front of the classroom. “It’s been… strained between us since we got back. Nothing’s felt right, and every conversation turns into one of us snapping at each other – usually me at them.”

“Harry, is there something that you want to tell me?” He could hear the worry from the man who was the last link to his parents and godfather, but it rankled something awful. He looked up into the amber eyes of the werewolf and tried to rein in his temper so he could answer, but Remus was quick to stop him. “I’m not trying to pry. I’m worried, of course, but I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

“I-I know that, Remus,” he whispered, his anger dissipating quickly. “It’s just that since… Si-Padfoot d-died, I can’t be the same, and that’s what everyone wants!”

“No one expects you to-”

“Yes they do! And I’m sick of pretending. I tried for all of last year, and the only thing it accomplished was getting McGonagall killed!” Harry realized that his hands were shaking and he was breathing rather erratically. “I can’t… won’t do it anymore,” he whispered.

“Harry, it’s not your fault that Minerva died,” the older man said, sighing as pain briefly flashed in his amber eyes. “She was a warrior, much like her namesake. Wise, stern, and deadly… The fact that she took out five Death Eaters alone is a testament to her ability to fight under pressure.”

“I know that, but… If I hadn’t tried to handle everything by myself, then… maybe she’d still be alive.” God, he sounded pitiful, but he couldn’t help it. He missed his former Head of House. She and Dumbledore had be stable, secure presences in his life since starting Hogwarts. And the fact that she was gone left a void in his world that wasn’t going to be filled any time soon. “If only I’d stayed here, then she wouldn’t be gone like… Sirius.”

Strong arms wrapped around him, surprising the boy momentarily before he broke down, crying harshly. After what felt like an eternity, the tears dried up. He pulled away, embarrassed at cracking the way he had, but feeling a million times better.

“Sorry about that, Remus,” he muttered, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his robes.

“Don’t be, Harry. I think that was long overdue, if you ask me.” The werewolf smiled and hugged him before releasing him. “So, what happened between you and Ron and Hermione?”

“I… Since they got together last year, they’ve become insufferable. Ron was all about how Ginny and I would get married after all this was over and we’d all be one big, happy family. It was a rather nice dream, for a while. But, then, Ginny and I broke up, and somehow it was my fault for ruining his illusion of our ‘future’.”

“What happened with Ginny? The two of you were inseparable last year, if I can believe the reports I got while I was out on missions for Dumbledore.”

“She… She dumped me. For Luna Lovegood.” Harry blushed as he remembered that conversation.

“Oh… well… that’s a different story then.” The older man sighed and helped his friends’ son to stand once more. “That explains a lot, actually. And what about you and Mr. Longbottom?”

“Nev’s been great this year. He’s the only one that doesn’t give me those looks that make me feel like a freak in a side-show. He’s calm and quiet.”

“It sounds like he’s been a good friend to you, just when you needed one.”

“He is, and I really appreciate it.”

“And Mr. Malfoy?”

Harry blushed momentarily before clearing his throat nervously. “I dunno about him yet. Neville and I are going to find out what’s going on with Malfoy tonight. But, I don’t need Ron and Hermione hanging around like leeches.”

“I’ll see what I can’t do to help you out there,” Remus said, causing Harry to look him over carefully.

“I’m aware that they were caught snogging in the hallway by a sixth year, and Ms. Granger used her position as Head Girl to get out of it.”

Harry snorted, not really surprised at the seemingly out of character behavior in his ‘friend’ since she’d finally gotten Ron to ask her out. It was kind of sad to see her change so much, but this deviation from normalcy helped him out greatly. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? “Thanks, Remus.”

“No problem, Harry. Now, I suggest that you head on out before your companions become suspicious.” The man smiled. “Although, you may want to freshen up before you go anywhere. You’re welcome to use the bathroom in my private quarters.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, enclosed by all the other seventh years except for Malfoy. The wireless was playing the new Weird Sisters’ song, and it felt like a party, even if all they were doing was talking and doing homework. Neville was at his right, reading a book on Herbology, shooting suspicious looks at Ron and Hermione, who were surrounded by the rest of the Gryffindors, as if holding court. The bespeckled boy was happy that someone was truly on his side. However, he could see how his friend’s behavior was getting a little overboard. He was about to suggest they leave for the library before dinner when the door to the common room swung open, revealing an extremely perturbed Professor Swanly.

“Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, you will both accompany me, this instant,” the thin woman said with a tone of voice that brooked no disobedience. The two students in question rose and followed the Transfiguration professor out of the door, faces pale and silent as the grave.

“Wonder what that’s about?” Lavender asked as she made eyes at Ernie Macmillan, who blushed as he returned her attention.

“I heard they were caught snogging near the dungeons and a sixth year caught them. Hermione, evidently, threatened to take points from Hufflepuff and to give the poor kid a week’s detentions with Filch if she said anything,” Seamus said, earning him looks of shock from Ernie and Susan Bones.

“What the hell? Why would she do that?” Terry Boot asked, putting an arm around Padma Patil, who smiled before snuggling against the Ravenclaw’s chest.

“Seems absolute power does corrupt absolutely,” Harry said softly, earning him hard looks from the others.

“You don’t seem so surprised, Harry,” Dean replied. Harry shrugged in response.

“It all went to her head, kinda like Malfoy with that Inquisitorial Squad bullshit fifth year.”

“God, he was such a prat then,” Justin Finch-Fletchley added. “I mean, he’s always been a bit of one, but he and Parkinson were insufferable bints with Umbridge here.”

“Can we please not talk about that?” Parvati pleaded as she wiggled in Dean’s loose embrace. “It was a very ugly time.”

“It hasn’t gotten much better since then, ‘Vati,” Lavender said.

“Well, no, I guess not,” the dark-ed girl replied, flipping her long, black hair behind her shoulder in annoyance. “At least we haven’t got to deal with Malfoy’s cronies this year.”

“True,” many of the others responded.

Harry was determined to ignore his classmates, but every time that Malfoy’s name was mentioned, his hackles went up. A few times, he’d had to stop himself from truly defending the blond boy, and it was only a very sharp look from Neville that saved him. It was with great relief that he noticed the time. “Nev, let’s head down to the Great Hall for supper.”

The brown-haired boy closed his book and stood. “Yeah, the doors should be open by now.”

Their conversation caught the attention of the others and they were heard to make plans to meet each other at the tables downstairs. They all stood and made their way to the Great Hall, surprised to find a very red Ron Weasley and a pale Hermione Granger already there at the Gryffindor table, pointedly not looking at one another.

“What happened?” Seamus asked, sounding worried.

“We have detention with Professor Swanly for the next week, starting tonight,” Hermione whispered, obviously embarrassed out of her skin.

“Why?” Parvati asked.

“I’d rather not say,” Ron replied heatedly.

“Is it about-”

“Drop it,” Harry said shortly. “It’s obviously private, and you shouldn’t pry if they don’t want to tell you.” Everyone at the table blushed, obviously feeling awkward, and dinner passed in strained silence. Harry and Neville were the first ones finished and made their way quickly to the Room of Requirement – to make sure that no one else tried to use it that night and to get the room ready for their discussion with Malfoy. Whatever it was, Harry was more than ready to get it done and over with.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When the door swung open, Draco was surprised to find what appeared to be a posh sitting room. A huge fireplace took up the entire right wall, complete with roaring fire and a painting of the Founders above the mantelpiece. In front of the fire, in a semi-circle, were three stuffed chairs of varying shape, but all upholstered with a very tasteful fabric that was a deep shade of blue with gold fleur-de-lis. Potter was sitting in the one that faced the door, while Longbottom sat opposite, leaving the settee in the middle for himself.

He would have been comforted by the scene, except that he had no idea what was going to happen while the three boys were there.

“Come in, Malfoy,” Potter’s deep voice called, bringing Draco from his thoughts.

“Thank you, Potter,” he said, sitting gracefully on the piece of furniture provided to him. “Before we begin, I would like to get this out of the way – I am not, nor have I ever been, a Death Eater.”

Longbottom’s serious brown eyes stared harshly at his face. “Prove it.”

With a sigh, Draco pulled back the left sleeve of his robe, followed by that of his shirt. He then shoved his left forearm into the chubby Gryffindor’s face, showing him his perfectly unMarked arm. “Is that enough for you?” he asked snidely.

The boy had the good grace to blush lightly before looking away. “Yes, please continue.”

The blond harrumphed before going on. “When I returned - after our charming encounter, Potter – I met with the Headmaster. I… told him why I had been sent back.”

“And why is that?” Potter asked. Draco faced his rival and nearly drowned in the other boy’s green eyes. He felt the heat creep up into his face, much to his dismay, and was unable to compose himself until he looked away.

“I was sent here to spy for the Dark Lord.” Both Gryffindors became stiff and reached for their wands. Draco didn’t move. “I had no intention of actually doing so, but the Headmaster suggested that I… act as if I would.”

“The letter!” Longbottom and Draco both looked at Potter as if he’d lost his mind.

“What letter, Harry?” Longbottom asked.

“I had… a… vision,” the Boy Who Lived started, paused and then began again. “That day that I collapsed in the hallway, Malfoy.”

“From the Dark Lord? Then that’s true?”

“Yes, Harry has been getting those visions for years now,” Longbottom answered. “Since first year, I think.”

Draco felt a chill creep up his spine as they sat, the fire doing nothing in the least to warm him. “The letter I sent was really only to tell my father and his master that I had arrived and the current atmosphere of the school.”

“That explains why Voldemort,” Draco and the other Gryffindor cringed, “was so upset,” Potter said with a cruel smile before looking at the Slytherin again. “Why are you telling us this?”

“I have received orders to befriend you and Professor Dumbledore so that I can betray you.”

“And?” Potter asked.

“I would rather not do that, since you are the only two people who have consistently defeated that monster.”

“What changed your mind, Malfoy? Up until the end of fifth year, you were doing your level best to prove that you were the perfect mini-Death Eater.”

The blond held back a sigh of frustration, knowing that the Golden Boy was correct. He’d been rather horrible to everyone who didn’t fall into what he’d been taught was proper for a pureblood wizard. However, he seriously debated with himself if he should reveal his real reason, until Dumbledore’s last message flashed into his mind. “I will be frank with you then. My mother became extremely ill when my father was sent to Azkaban after that ruckus at the Ministry. She was so ill that I was afraid that she would die.

“I, however, was both angry and relieved. My father is not an easy man to deal with. He has extremely exacting standards for me, as his only heir.”

“That’s normal, Malfoy. You are, after all, the heir to an old pureblood line,” Longbottom said quietly.

“Precisely,” Draco replied. “While it is easy to understand from an objective outlook, it is difficult to live up to.”

“So, you’re telling me that you aren’t Daddy’s little foot soldier?” Potter inquired calmly.

This conversation was going better and worse than the Slytherin had expected with the questions being volleyed at him by both Gryffindors and his own shame getting in the way. It took every ounce of his deeply rooted control to keep from snapping at the other two boys, for he knew that he needed them as allies, or he would never survive the rest of the school year. ‘Maybe that’s why Dumbledore told me that I needed to talk to Potter about this,’ he mused.

“No, Potter, I don’t wish to follow my father, or his psychotic master.”

“So, what do you want from me? I still don’t really see why you changed your mind.”

“Perhaps, if I was able to finish, you’d understand.” Potter waved a hand and Draco took a deep breath before continuing. “As I was saying, my mother became ill while he was in Azkaban. At that time, my Aunt Bella,” both Gryffindors snarled at the mention of her name. “I share your sentiment. Anyway, my Aunt Bella and the Dark Lord took up residence in one of the Malfoy estates, not the Manor, but one of our smaller houses in Somersetshire. It took exactly four weeks for the Dark Lord, my aunt, and my two uncles to find a way to free the rest of the Death Eaters from prison. As soon as my father was free, my mother miraculously became well again.

“However, my father was angry, and sought to take his frustrations out on her and me. My aunt was only too happy to assist.” Draco took a deep breath to steel himself for what he was about to say next. “I begged my mother to flee. I told her that I would stay here and suffer any repercussions, but she was adamant about staying with her husband. So, I remained as well, to protect her as much as possible from those two.”

“When did this start, Malfoy?” Potter’s voice was quiet, laced with some emotion that Draco couldn’t place and didn’t like. It sounded too much like pity.

“I thought I explained that bit perfectly well, Potter. It began as soon as my father returned home. It was only thanks to Severus that I didn’t go insane from the numerous Cruciatus curses used on me.”

The snarl that the dark-haired boy gave made Draco turn his eyes to him immediately. Those green eyes, the ones that made him want the most, were ablaze with fury. “Don’t ever say his name around me,” he growled, making the blond shiver in apprehension. “He’ll be lucky if I let him die peacefully.”

“Harry!” Longbottom shouted, a large hand clamping on the Golden Boy’s arm painfully. “You can’t be like that.”

The three boys were silent for many moments, and as the quiet drew itself out, Draco became more and more uncomfortable. While he intellectually understood that there was absolutely no love lost between his mentor and Potter, he hadn’t thought it went that deep. Truly, he’d been surprised when the first note from Severus told him to trust no one but his rival, but as he watched the boy over the last few weeks, he could see why. Now, to see the unadulterated hatred the Gryffindor held for their former professor was daunting.

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

“Dumbledore believes that I need allies while I am here. And part of me agrees with him, and even his choice of you. However, that is secondary,” he said, the last sentence barely a whisper.

“And the other?”

“The other what, Longbottom?” Draco inquired, lifting one eyebrow in disdain at the awkward boy.

“The other part of you, what does it think?” Even through the blush, his voice was strong, commanding, and Draco was forced to admit that he might even respect him when all this was over.

“The other part of me remembers a time when I offered my hand in friendship and it was unequivocally thrown back in my face. For the sake of Weasley, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You were an arse then,” Potter said, his face softening momentarily. “Just like that time in the robe shop. Such a bloody snob; couldn’t stand you. You reminded me of my cousin, and I hate him. So, yeah, I didn’t want to be your friend then.”

“And now?” he whispered. ‘I will not get my hopes up. I will not want anything with the bloody Boy Who Lived.’ And yet, his heart lurched painfully as the Gryffindor smiled.

“Now, we wait and see.”

TBC
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The End Shall Come, And We Will Dance Forever