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The Heart of the Matter	By : Jad Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7323 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter Ten

'There aren't any "versions" of the truth.'

- The Lost World

: : :

Granger dropped the potion kit on one of the chairs by the table and charmed it open, quickly taking out bottles as Tonks listed them off. She was still helping Ginny clean off most of the fresh blood, Lupin's firm hand still in place.

Draco stood there, frozen. He did not need to clean the boy's face to know that voice. He had shared a dorm with that voice for six years.

'Malfoy?'

Draco looked up; Potter was staring at him, his gaze wordlessly demanding an explanation. But then Tonks pulled a torn piece of blood-soaked trouser away, and the boy snapped his eyes shut, biting down on his lip; a horrible, strangled noise crawled out of his throat anyway, and Lupin's arm shuddered with the force of the squirming but did not budge.

Draco had backed away from the table, hands over his ears and wand long forgotten on the floor. New blood was gushing from the wound on the thigh Tonks had uncovered—she was shouting, Ginny was crying and trying to clean the blood, Granger was spilling potions ingredients everywhere, Weasley had his hands wound into his hair and was staring at the scene in shock—

Draco's back hit the bench and the sharp pang in his lower back felt like it was coming from miles away, and there was so much blood everywhere that his vision looked red, and ironically enough, the only coherent thought that passed through his head was that he'd never be able to eat in that kitchen again.

: : :

Draco looked at the clock on the wall. 1:37. The sky outside the window was a deep, dark midnight-blue. The moon wasn't visible yet from this side of the house, but stars twinkled down from on high and Draco rested his forehead against the cool glass, letting it soothe the massive migraine blooming there. His ears were still ringing from hours ago, when the house had been one giant factory of horrible noise. The quiet now was almost unsettling.

By the light of several candles, he could see the reflection in the window. Theodore was still asleep on Granger's bed, twitching fitfully so that he kept throwing the sheets off onto the floor. Lupin kept retrieving and replacing them anyway. They had managed to stop the bleeding and once Madam Pomfrey had arrived, and then she had sedated Theodore and patched him up as best as she could. Now all they could do was wait.

'I don't understand,' Draco said, still staring out the window. Apparently he had lost track of the lunar cycle during his week at St Mungo's. 'How can it be a full moon? You're a werewolf.'

'A fact I'm all too well-aware of,' Lupin said, sitting back down on the end of the bed. 'Are you familiar with the Wolfsbane potion?'

Draco shrugged, eyes still out the window. He was watching for the moon—once it rolled over to this part of the sky, Theodore would have to be moved. 'It's supposed to be really complicated.'

'It is.' Lupin sighed somewhere behind him. 'Which is why unless Professor Snape is able to prepare it, I am forced to deal without it. Very few alchemists can brew it properly.'

Draco didn't reply. He didn't see how any of this answered his question—he would have not even been in the same room as Lupin on the night of a full moon if he could help it, but if he was going to transform, it would have started hours ago.

'After the full moon fades,' Lupin continued in the silence, 'after we transform back, I mean—there's something off about the blood. They've only discovered it just recently, which is why the Wolfsbane potion came about. The mix of wolf and human fluids, or something—the Wolfsbane imitates the mix of hormones, sort of like Muggle birth-control—'

Draco looked back at him. 'Muggle what?'

Lupin sighed. 'Never mind. It's hard to explain. Basically, if taken regularly, the potion tricks my body into always thinking I've just had a full moon by keeping a constant supply of the chemicals in my bloodstream.'

'So you don't even have to transform?'

'Oh, I will,' Lupin assured him. 'Rather hard to fool the moon, even with magic. Not quite yet, though, it's still waning—full enough for an un-drugged werewolf running amok outside to transform, but under the influence of the potion I can resist until the full blast of it.' He smirked, the low light casting odd patterns along his face. He looked very old. 'And when I do transform, I'm conscious of myself, unlike most werewolves. Not nearly as dangerous.'

Draco was willing to bet any sort of werewolf was just as dangerous as the next, but asked instead, 'So will he change?'

'He might, since he was bitten early this phase,' Lupin said in a quiet voice. 'We'll have to keep an eye on him. Either way, he'll be in a lot of pain whenever the moon's out. Probably best to keep him sedated.'

'Can't we just give him the potion?'

'Eventually, perhaps after this moon passes,' Lupin said, looking back down at Theodore. 'I don't think it's ever been tested on a fresh werewolf, and the first transformation is the worst. His body will be forced into an unnatural, unwilling modification. That much alone is dangerous, but meddling with it could kill him.'

There was a quiet knock at the door. A moment later Ginny stuck her head in the door, her hair wet from a recent bath. 'Tonks says it's just coming over the house now, we should move him upstairs.'

Lupin nodded and Draco stood up, coming over to the bedside. Clean of the blood, Theodore looked deathly pale against the dark sheets. Lupin began to shift him out from under the duvet, and his eyes fluttered open. He tried to sit up and winced.

'Fuck,' he hissed, his hands clawing at the duvet near his hip.

'Easy,' Lupin ordered. 'No quick movements. You'll heal fast, but not if you keep re-opening the wounds.'

A brief look of horrified realisation flickered over Theodore's face, but it passed quickly; with Lupin helping he struggled into a sitting position, then Draco joined his other side to hoist him to his feet. His weight rested on his uninjured leg and he leaned heavily into Draco. Ginny held open the door and they acted like human crutches, carrying him out and to the bottom of the stairs.

They went up one step, and Theodore made an off-key, high-pitched noise and nearly toppled forward. Draco caught his chest with a hand and Lupin, similarly, on his opposite shoulder. They paused a moment to let Theodore recover; his shoulders shook a little and he leaned his head against Draco's neck.

'You remember that time,' he whispered, 'when we were teasing Millicent about her spots, and she let a Doxy loose in the dorms and it bit us all in our sleep?'

Draco winced inwardly at the memory. 'Yeah.' They had stopped teasing her after that.

'Okay, well,' Theodore paused to hiss, 'this is like that time, only it's like there was thirty Doxies instead of one.'

Draco smiled in spite of himself. 'Well, at least there's no swelling.'

'Point,' Theodore ground out. 'All right, it's not going to hurt any less if we just stand here. I want to get it over with.'

Draco looked past Theodore to Lupin, who nodded. Theodore set his jaw and they heaved, taking two stairs at a time. It was awkward and undoubtedly painful, but Theodore kept his mouth clamped shut and aside from the occasional hiss and groan, struggled up the small flight of stairs without complaint. He swayed slightly when they reached the top.

'Where's Adelle?' he asked, recovering, as they limped towards the room Draco and Potter had been sharing; it faced the opposite side of the house, which the moon had already passed over. The door stood ajar, waiting for them.

'She's downstairs,' Lupin assured him, kicking the door the rest of the way open.

Theodore didn't speak for a moment while they lowered him into the bed Draco had been using—he had his eyes clenched shut and his jaw twitched as he shifted from vertical to horizontal—then, 'I want to see her.'

'Later,' Draco said. 'She's asleep on the couch.' He did not add that the reason was because she had wept herself into exhaustion some hours before.

'Fuck later,' Theodore snapped. 'Then wake her.'

'It's all right,' Lupin said quickly. 'I'll get her.'

When Lupin closed the door, Draco found himself alone with Theodore for the first time that night. He waited until he heard Lupin begin to descend the stairs, then asked, his voice low, 'Christ, Theo, what happened?'

Theodore, propped up against the wall on the bed, closed his eyes and shook his head. 'It's all blurry,' he said. 'These fucking potions they've got me on—I can't even think straight, but I can still feel everything so I don't see the point.'

He was quiet a moment, staring at an indistinct spot on the far wall. 'We were just having dinner. Father wasn't home. Hasn't been for weeks, not since you'd run off from school with Potter. I mean, hell, we knew what he was doing, and mum wouldn't have us talking about it.' He paused and shook his head again, a creepy, half-smile forming on his lips. He looked directly at Draco. 'You never thought about it, did you? What they were doing, what it might mean if they screwed up. Well, I suppose you had to last year, but none of us ever did. Not even after you—'

Theodore paused, and Draco did not have to ask what he meant. Theodore was reading his mind about this time the previous year, when the Dark Lord had first approached him while his father was in prison. He knew exactly what it was like.

'Didn't even get time to eat anything,' Theodore continued when Draco said nothing. He was looking out the window again. 'We—Mum went to answer the door.' He paused again, and Draco averted his eyes. He knew what that was like, too. 'I told her to let me get it, but she wouldn't have it. We heard the door open, but she didn't come back. So Eloise went to see who it was, and then we heard her scream.' There was another pause. 'I never even made it to the door to see what happened. They came rushing straight into the dining room—there were two of the damn things—it was all I could do to get Adeline into the closet before they—'

The door opened, revealing Lupin and a dark-haired, minuscule girl of about four or five. She took one look around the room, spotted Theodore, and bolted for him. She jumped up on the bed and threw her tiny arms around his neck. 'Teddy!'

Theodore winced at the force of her impact, but smiled. 'Hey, dolly.'

It was apparently the wrong endearment to use, because girl sniffed loudly, her head still buried in his neck. 'I lost Marie!'

'We'll get you another,' he promised, hugging her back with one arm.

'But it won't be Marie!' the girl cried quietly. 'I don't like this house! It's dark and there are strangers and nobody will tell me where Mummy and Elly are—'

Theodore closed his eyes, and Draco did not envy him. Draco looked at Lupin, who nodded, and Draco silently excused himself from the room, backing out and closing the door behind him.

The living room was mostly deserted. Potter was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, Ginny sitting behind him on the veneer, her legs dangling on either side of him and her arms around his shoulders. Tonks was sitting upright in the armchair by the fireplace, hands on her knees and looking uncharacteristically exhausted.

Only Ginny looked up when he entered, taking a seat on the mini-settee. 'Malfoy,' she said.

He glared at her but didn't answer.

'Did he tell you what happened?'

Draco shrugged. 'What's it to you?'

She ignored his attitude and fired off another question. 'Do you know who Elly is? That little girl kept asking for her and her mum, and I didn't know what to tell her.'

Draco didn't say anything for a moment. He became aware that both Potter and Tonks were watching him expectantly as well. He sighed. 'That girl is his little sister,' he said. 'Eloise was the eldest—about your age,' he said, looking at Tonks. He looked back at Ginny and curled his lip. 'And what do you think happened to them?'

'Well, nobody knows,' Ginny said, matter-of-factly. 'The Order members that brought them here said they were the only ones at the house—there was a lot of blood, but no bodies.'

'We can worry about it in the morning,' Tonks said suddenly, standing. 'And by "we" I mean the Order. You kids should get some sleep. Ginny, come on.'

Ginny sighed and leaned down; Potter shifted to the side and looked up, and kissed her quickly, whispering a 'Goodnight'. As Ginny joined her, Tonks looked back at them and said, 'Will you two be all right down here?'

Draco and Potter looked at each other and said, clipped and together, 'Yeah.'

Tonks raised her eyebrows but took her leave. It just had occurred to Draco when she said that that Theodore and Lupin were in their room, which left them with nowhere to sleep.

'I want the couch,' Draco said, eyeing the armchair and the too-small settee.

Potter narrowed his eyes. 'It's my house.'

'Exactly,' Draco said, smirking. 'It is your house, which makes you the host, which means out of the two of us, you get to be the most uncomfortable.'

'God, you're a tool.'

'Your Muggle insults notwithstanding,' Draco said, standing, 'I believe you're overdue on the floor, Potter.'

'Fine,' Potter said, standing. 'But if you get the couch, I get the spare pillows.' After a moment, he added, 'And the duvet. You can have the sheets.'

'Why do you get both pillows? And the duvet?'

'So I can muffle the screams when I strangle you in your sleep,' Potter growled, pushing past him and disappearing into the hallway.

He came back a moment later with the spare linens piled in his arms, dumped them on the couch and began sorting them. He threw the sheets at Draco and dropped his pillows on the floor by the settee, as far away as he could get from the couch without leaving the rug on top of the hardwood floor. Draco pulled off his outer robes while Potter arranged the duvet, then walked over to the fireplace and gave it a kick. It popped open, gave a little spurt, and quietly crackled to life—a small fire, enough to warm without casting too much light. He turned around to see Potter staring at him.

'What?' he said. 'Do you mind?'

'Doesn't matter if I do, does it? Since I'm the "host".'

'See,' Draco said, flopping back onto the couch and smirking down at him. 'You're learning already. And Snape says you're slow.'

'Fuck Snape, and fuck you.' Potter collapsed on his duvet. 'I don't see why I'm the "host" if it listens to you and not me.'

'Got your mum to thank for that, I'm afraid.'

'Then how come it doesn't listen to the Weasleys? They're pureblood.'

'Pureblood traitors,' Draco pointed out. 'At least as far as your house is concerned. Which is funny, considering the inhabitants of the house were either, a, blood-traitors themselves like your darling godfather, or, b, supporting the motives of a power-crazed half-blood. Rather ironic, really.'

'Yeah, it is. Kind of like how it's ironic that we're now up to two pureblooded blokes hiding out here who've lost their mums to the same power-crazed half-blood.'

'Well if you want to get technical, only one of those blokes got himself torn a new one by a werewolf.' Draco paused, considering. 'How did they find Theo before they killed them anyway?'

Potter hesitated, then seemed to figure there was no harm in divulging information. 'I don't know specifics, but I know the Order keeps tags on all the Death Eater homes. Just in case they come home.'

Draco raised his eyebrows. 'Or screw up.'

'Or that,' Potter agreed, frowning.

Draco frowned, too. He didn't like how the conversation had consisted entirely of the usual petty insults and sneers, then veered into something more mutual and serious.

'Right,' Draco said, rolling over and drawing the sheets up. 'I'm going to sleep.'

It was nice and quiet for a blessed whole two minutes. Then Potter said, 'Hey, Malfoy.'

Draco groaned and stuffed his head into the corner of the couch cushions. 'What part of "I'm going to sleep" was unclear?'

'Is he a friend of yours?'

Draco had to pause before rolling over, giving Potter an incredulous look. 'What the hell do you mean, is he a friend of mine? We shared a dormitory for six years.'

'Doesn't mean anything,' Potter said, shrugging from his spot on the floor. 'You never hung out with him much, at least from what we could see. It was always Crabbe and Goyle.'

'Okay, this may be a foreign concept to you, but,' Draco said, giving him a pointed look, 'most Slytherins considered all of their room-mates friends, Potter.'

'Well, all of mine were my friends, too.'

'Even Thomas and Finnigan?'

'Yes!'

'Interesting, considering you never hung out with them much, at least from what we could see.' Draco smirked. 'Funny, what you don't know when you don't notice anything except what you care about.'

Potter scowled but didn't say anything. Draco, annoyed, continued, 'Anyway, why do you care if he's my friend or not?'

Shrugging, Potter laid down and rolled over. 'You seemed real bothered once you realised who it was. And he kept asking for you,' he added, 'when you went to wash the blood off. He didn't seem to like us around.'

'Can you blame him?' Draco asked the back of his head. 'Hell, I don't like any of you around, either.'

'Well of course you don't. You're a prick and we hate you. But we never did anything to him or Zabini in school—'

'Except bad-mouth Slytherin every chance you got,' Draco interrupted. 'I know you may find this a little hard to believe, Potter, but there are some very decent people in Slytherin—and I can promise you that all of them despise you to one degree or another, whether you knew them or not.'

'You act like you never bad-mouthed Gryffindor,' Potter returned, rolling back to glare at him. His eyes appeared as dark, yellowed amber when reflecting the flames from the fireplace. 'There's plenty of decent people in my House that despise you and your lot, too.'

'The difference there,' Draco said, smirking one last time before waving his hand—the flames extinguished with a snap, leaving them in the darkness, 'is that I don't care.'

Potter didn't say anything after that and Draco, relieved, rolled back over and went to sleep.

: : :
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The Heart of the Matter