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Darkness Within The Light	By : crimson96 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8759 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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
- 21
- 22
- 23
Author's Notes: Hello once more to everyone that is reading this story. Eris and I certainly hope that you all enjoy this next installment of "Darkness". Many thanks goes out to everyone that has left feedback, favorited the story, or told a friend about it. Hopefully, more and more people will read and like the story as we continue onward.

Just a bit of a teaser. In this chapter, Ron's good intentions force Harry to reveal the truth, but Harry's revelation fades to the background when Kraven brings dire news to Draco.

Chapter 22: What I'm Capable Of

"Don't say it!" Draco snarled, glaring at Harry after the two of them appeared in the Burrow's back garden. "So you were right! He was working for my father, and he almost killed us, and it's my bloody fault because I didn't trust you enough to follow your orders like one of your little Griffindor lackeys."

Harry shook his head. "I wasn't going to say any of that!"

"Good. Because if you were so sure we were in danger, you should have brought us here in the first place instead of arguing about it."

"We survived. That's what matters." Harry ran a hand over his neck, probing for bruises. The back of his head throbbed from having hit the wall. "What I was actually going to say is that you were amazing. If someone had told me a week ago that Draco Malfoy would call a Patronus, I would have laughed."

"What, you think you're the only one who can play hero?"

"No, it's just..." Harry frowned, studying Draco, who had sat down at the base of a sprawling hedge. He lowered himself to the ground beside Draco and leaned back on his hands. "Professor Lupin said that a Patronus is a positive force. To make one, you have to focus on a powerful memory, something good. I didn't know you had it in you, that's all."

"As I told you before, you don't know me, Potter."

"So what was it, then? What went through your head before the silver dragon appeared? For me, it was seeing my parents in the Mirror of Erised and being able to imagine what it would have been like to have a real family."

Draco looked away, fidgeting with a branch from one of the hedges. "For me, it was seeing your face when you lost at Quidditch. That's my positive, powerful memory. It made me feel good."

"If that's true, then I feel sorry for you." Harry stood and turned to face the house.

Behind him, he heard the hedges rustle as Draco stood up, followed by a wordless howl and then a curse.

"What is it now?" Harry asked, turning around to see Draco balancing on one foot as he inspected his bleeding left ankle.

"Something bitme!" Draco knelt and began riffling through the bushes with his hands, looking for his attacker. Several times, he cursed and drew his hand back, but the repeated injuries only seemed to spur his efforts. After several minutes, he emerged from the bushes, triumphantly holding an ugly humanoid by one of its tiny feet. The gnome was the size of a small house cat and had a long nose and pointy ears which, along with its angry expression, reminded Harry painfully of Kreacher.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away from the squirming, naked little man. "Let it go, Draco."

"Vile little thing, isn't it?" Draco raised the gnome up so that its inverted face was close to his. "Too bad the Weasleys can't afford a Jarvey. Then you'd get what you deserve!" He shook the gnome, eliciting a string of profanity from the lumpy homunculus. The gnome twisted and thrashed, swinging its fists, one of which landed a blow to Draco's nose.

Draco cursed and flung the creature into the side of the house where it landed with a loud "smack," staggered to its feet, and loped away into the hedges.

"You didn't have to do that," Harry said, watching as Draco put a hand to his nose to staunch the bleeding.

Blood oozed between Draco's injured fingers, trickling down his chin and landing in fat drops on his white shirt. "No, I shouldn't have had to do it," Draco argued, turning his head and seeming to fully take in his surroundings for the first time. "This place is worse than I imagined! Gnomes in the garden, filthy pond in back, and look at the house- it looks like a scrap heap piled on an old stone pig sty. How long do we have to stay here?"

"Who said you could stay?"

At the sound of a familiar female voice, both Harry and Draco turned to see Ginny enter the back garden.

"Ginny..." Harry forced a smile and then let it fade when he saw that it had no effect on Ginny's narrow-eyed scowl. Not knowing how to greet her, he extended a hand, which she ignored. Feeling foolish, he allowed his hand to fall to his side. "We were being followed-" he started to explain.

"Probably by aurors if you're with him." Ginny jerked her chin toward Draco. "Mum and Dad say you're still welcome here, but they didn't say anything about Malfoy." She raised her wand and pointed it at Draco.

"The last person who did that regretted it!" Draco's words lost some of their menace as they came out muffled by his hand and had a sickly, wet sound. With his left hand still pressed to his face, he used his right to pull his wand from his pocket and point it at Ginny.

Quickly, Harry stepped between them, gambling that neither would risk hitting him in the crossfire.

"It's fine!" Ron called from behind Ginny, jogging toward them. When he reached his sister's side, he put a hand on her arm and squeezed until she lowered her wand. "If he's here with Harry, he's-" Ron cut off, noticing the blood streaming down Draco's chin. His eyes widened and shifted from Draco to Harry and back. "So, did you two, er, have a disagreement, then?"

"It was one of your stupid garden gnomes." Draco kicked spitefully at the bushes.

"Good." Ron heaved a visible sigh of relief before adding, "Well, good that you're getting along, not good that the gnome got you. If you come inside, Hermione can fix you up."

Draco nodded and put his wand away slowly, giving it a meaningful pat and glaring in Ginny's direction.

Ginny spun on her heel and followed Ron, muttering, "I don't understand! Since when are Death Eaters allowed in our house?"

Ron only shrugged and shot a glance backwards at Harry and Draco, who both followed him toward the front door.

"What's wrong with Weasley?" Draco asked.

"Sorry about that. Ginny and I didn't part on good terms." Harry winced, remembering Ginny's hand connecting with his face.

Draco shook his head. "I didn't mean her. I meant her brother- why is he acting like that?"

"You mean being civil? It's what good people do. You'll get used to it if you stay here long enough, I promise." Harry stopped and put a hand on Draco's arm, pulling him to a halt. In the doorway, Ron stood with Ginny and Hermione, speaking in a low voice that Harry couldn't hear from this distance. Ginny threw up her hands and shoved past Ron to disappear into the house. Hermione looked from Ron, to Harry, to Draco before motioning for them to come up to the stoop.

"Just my luck that Granger is here," Draco grumbled under his breath as they approached the house.

"Yes, actually, it is lucky for you." Hermione smiled sweetly, obviously enjoying the fact that Draco winced at being overheard. The four of them entered the house, and Hermione pointed to the kitchen table. "Sit down." She drew her wand, saw that Draco's hand went to his pocket, and rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've been wanting someone to practice on. You can only learn so much by reading, after all."

Harry pulled out a chair for himself, sat down, and pulled out the one next to it for Draco.

Draco sat down on the very edge of the chair as if wanting as little contact as possible with anything in the Weasleys' house. He nodded to Hermione and gurgled the words, "Do it, then," through his blood -soaked hand.

"Right." Hermione came to stand in front of Draco and pointed her wand at his face. "Vulnera Sanenter," she intoned in a sing-song voice, her face contorted into an expression of intense concentration. She repeated the words twice more, and the bite wounds on Draco's hands disappeared.

Draco let his hand fall from his face into his lap and flexed his fingers. "Vulnera Sanenter? A bit of overkill for a bloody nose. Can't resist showing off, can you, Granger?"

"Thank you, Hermione." Harry shot Draco an irritated look for having forgotten the courtesy.

Hermione nodded acknowledgment. She retrieved a towel from a kitchen drawer, moistened it in the sink, and bent over Draco, dabbing at his face. "Honestly, I don't see how a garden gnome could do this to you. They're harmless if you leave them alone, and-"

"No one asked for a lecture!" Draco snatched the cloth out of her hand and tossed it in the sink. He took his wand out of his pocket, pointed it at himself and said, "Tergeo!" The blood vanished from his face, hands, and shirt, leaving him looking clean and smug.

Hermione folded her arms and frowned at Harry. "Are you going to tell us why you brought him here? Ron says you have some good reason, but that he can't say what it is." She gave Ron a look that showed exactly what she thought about his silence, and Ron grinned, clearly pleased with himself for keeping Harry's secret.

"And what are you doing here?" Draco snorted. "Shouldn't you be back with your Muggle parents playing Nintendo or watching tele or doing whatever it is you pathetic people do?"

"I'm here because I was invited!" Hermione pulled out the chair across from Draco and sat down in it. "But we're not talking about me. I asked about you. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley will want to know why they should let you stay here, and you had better have a good answer."

"Mum and Dad will understand," Ron promised, flashing a reassuring smile at Harry, then Draco.

"Potter, why is Weasley looking at us that way?" Draco asked. "And don't say it's what good people do. That's bollocks. I'm a D- a former Death Eater. 'Good' people point their wands at me and wonder what the hell I'm doing here."

Before Harry could answer, Ron said, "It's alright. Harry explained everything to me, and like I told him, I don't care-"

"We were ambushed at Grimmauld Place," Harry interrupted loudly. He had decided to ignore Draco's question and instead answer Hermione's. When he was sure he had both Ron and Hermione's attention, he continued, "We had left, and when we returned, Lucius Malfoy was waiting for us in the library. He wanted to offer me a place in his new world order or some such rubbish, and when I refused, he decided to kill me."

"How did you make it out?" Ron asked.

Harry smiled. "Draco was brilliant! It was his Patronus that let us get away. He had to use it again when one of Lucius' goons tracked us down in London. Draco's Patronus knocked him back, and we were able to apparate here."

Hermione frowned, and Ron's jaw dropped in disbelief. "You, Malfoy? You can call a Patronus? How? I mean, don't you have to have a happy memory for that?"

Draco's lip curled. "I remembered how hard I laughed when I saw you dressed up in your grandmother's dress robes, Weasley."

"That doesn't make sense." Hermione bit her lip. "A Patronus in incorporeal. It shouldn't be able to knock down a real person."

"Maybe my happy memory is just more powerful than most people's," Draco replied.

"Your memory of seeing Ron in his grand- in his dress robes?" Hermione shook her head. "I doubt that."

Before Draco could answer, Harry said, "Kreacher also helped us escape. He- he didn't make it. Lucius killed him."

"I'm sorry." Hermione reached across the table and laid both of her hands over one of Harry's.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "He was a- er, he- you know, it's too bad."

"Oh, don't feel sorry for him." Draco rolled his eyes. "It was Kreacher that betrayed us by letting my father in the house in the first place. If he had done his job and followed Potter's orders, we wouldn't be here now."

"It's not that simple!" Hermione argued. "You don't understand what it was like for him-"

"And I don't care! I've had the killing curse thrown at me, I've had to save Potter from a psychopath, and I've had to wear Muggle clothes, all because of that bloody little elf!" Draco fingered one of the buttons on his shirt, scowling down at it as if it symbolized all of the hardship he had endured.

Hermione's mouth tightened angrily, and she pulled her hands back from Harry's, closing them into fists. "None of that explains what you were doing at Harry's house in the first place."

"It's ok, Hermione-" Ron began at the same time Draco said, "That's none of your concern, Granger!"

Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed gently. "You can trust them. We're putting Ron's family and Hermione in danger just by being here; they deserve to know everything."

"No, they don't." Draco batted Harry's hand away and shook his head. "They wouldn't understand, anyway." A pleading note crept into his voice, and he wore the expression that Harry assumed must be precisely calculated to stab through his better judgment.

Harry nodded to Draco. To Ron and Hermione he said, "Draco needed a safe place to stay, and his reasons were good enough for me."

Hermione's face softened, and she tilted her head slightly as she regarded Draco. "Does he mean you weren't safe at home?" she asked. Draco didn't answer, but as she scanned his face, she nodded to herself as if he had confirmed her suspicions. "Draco, if you needed a place to stay, you could have come here years ago! None of us would have turned you away if you had come to us for help." She reached across the table again, but Draco scooted his chair back before she could touch him.

"Save your sympathy for your stupid house elves, Granger. I don't need it!"

"Or deserve it," Ron muttered under his breath.

"See? I told you, Mum. He's brought Draco Malfoy here!" Ginny's voice came from the fireplace, where she emerged with Molly behind her. Both women carried bulging paper shopping bags, and Molly's had carrot tops and celery stalks sticking out the top of it.

"Hello, Draco, Harry." Molly offered a warm smile that almost reached her eyes. She and Ginny sat their bags on the counter top, and Molly began unpacking them while looking over her shoulder at Harry and Draco.

"Mrs. Weasley," Draco replied.

"Aren't you even going to ask them what they're doing here?" Ginny demanded.

"They can explain over dinner." Molly had removed the carrots from the sack. She reached into a drawer, found a paring knife, and began peeling the carrots over the sink. "Ginny, why don't you go fetch your father from his workshop?"

"I'll go with you," Hermione offered, standing up from the table and taking Ginny's arm. Harry smiled, thinking he knew what Hermione would say on the way to the workshop. He wasn't sure of the exact words, but the general sentiment would involve understanding what Draco had been through and being willing to give him a second chance.

"You can stay in the twins' room," Ron offered, glancing up at Molly, who nodded agreement. "I'll show you where it is."

Draco rose to follow Ron, and Harry watched them disappear up the stairs. Molly's knife made a rhythmic scraping sound as she worked, and Harry was suddenly aware of the strange stillness in the house. No knitting needles clinked against each other, and the mop and bucket stayed still in the corner instead of dancing across the floor. He considered asking Molly why her house seemed to have lost its magic, but in all fairness, she hadn't asked him about Draco. The least he could do was return the same courtesy. Wordlessly, he went to stand behind her, took the knife from her hand, and began peeling a carrot, leaving Molly free to delve into the cupboards, searching for more tools and ingredients. It felt good to be doing something simple with his hands.

"And that's the upstairs wash room," Ron explained, opening a door to reveal a glorified closet that sported a sink, toilet, and shower.

"Rustic," Draco said dryly.

"Yeah, well, sorry it's not Malfoy Manor."

Draco snorted. "At least it's cleaner than Grimmauld Place." The corners were free of cobwebs, he had noticed, and though the Burrow had an unmistakable "old building" smell, the musk of earth and aging wood was mixed with the sharp, clean scent of vinegar.

"And safer," Ron added. "Even if someone finds you here, you've got all of us to protect you."

"And no bloody house elves," Draco agreed. He followed Ron through another door into a slightly larger closet with two narrow beds and just enough room to walk between them. Shelves above the beds held books, Quidditch trophies, and several framed photographs full of grinning ginger-haired wizards. He imagined the twins growing up here, fighting with their siblings over the wash room and hardly being able to get out of bed without bumping into one another. He would have hated it, he decided. Each day would have been a waking nightmare, worse than staying at Grimmauld Place with Potter. He couldn't understand what the people in the pictures had to smile and laugh about any more than he could understand why Ron Weasley was being so bloody nice to him.

Some of the pictures smiling down from the shelf showed both of the twins together, and Draco wondered morbidly which face belonged to the deceased Fred. The room was like some sort of shrine, and being forced to sleep here was like having his face rubbed in the past. Perhaps Weasley expected Draco to apologize- as if the war had been his idea!- or say something appropriately solemn about his dead brother. He did neither.

One of the beds sagged and groaned as Ron sat down on it, motioning for Draco to do the same.

Resisting the urge to cast "Tergeo" on the blankets, Draco perched on the edge of the bed opposite Ron. Narcissa had always speculated that poor people had lice and bed bugs, but then she had also disowned Andromeda, so perhaps she wasn't infallible.

"Harry doesn't have a father," Ron began, frowning as if he were working a particularly difficult runes problem. "Or a brother, either. So I guess it's only fitting that I should be the one to- That is, that I should tell you..."

"Take your time, Weasley. And use small words. That usually helps."

"Yeah, small words." Ron took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then met Draco's eyes. "If you make Harry happy, then you have my blessing to, er, you know... But if you ever do anything to hurt him..."

"Yes?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I mean, if you ever- I don't know! Ginny had four other brothers and Dad. I haven't had a lot of practice at this! But it's supposed to be a threat, right?"

"A threat?" Draco repeated. "If that's a threat, it's the most pathetic one I've ever received. Even your sister did a better job. At least she had her wand out."

"Yeah, but I'm not threatening you now! It's for if you break Harry's heart. That's when I'd get my wand out and I'd-" Ron's brow creased, and Draco could practically hear the gears grinding in his head. "I'd make you remember what it's like to be a ferret!"

"You might try." Draco started to laugh, but as he replayed Ron's words in his mind, something set off alarm bells. "What do you mean 'break Potter's heart?'"

"You know, if things don't work out between the two of you-"

"There is no 'two of us,' Weasley! And I want to know why you seem to think there is." Draco's hand hovered over the butt of his wand. A distant voice called from the rational part of his brain, warning him that cursing Weasley now would almost surely land him in Azkaban, get him sent back to Malfoy Manor, or both, but that voice was drowned out by the one screaming for an explanation.

"Never mind!" Ron threw up both his hands, palms out. "My mistake. I've never been the fastest broom in the sky, just ask Hermione! She'll tell you I'm an idiot."

"For once, I agree with Granger." Draco let his hands fall to his sides. Something Weasley had said earlier echoed in his head: Harry explained everything to me. It wasn't Weasley that Draco wanted to wring answers from, it was Potter. He followed Ron back down the stairs to find Arthur Weasley seated across from Harry.

"Draco!" Arthur rose from the table and extended a hand, smiling warmly.

"Mr. Weasley." Draco took the proffered hand, which was strong and warm and rough with calluses.

"I see Harry has convinced you to try Muggle clothing," Arthur observed as he sat down, indicating for Draco to do the same.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see Potter smirking, and he didn't need to be a Legilimens to know that Harry's head was filled with visions of a stuck zipper and a tiny washroom stall. Draco forced himself to focus on Arthur's face instead of Harry's and willed away the blood that had risen to his cheeks. He hoped Arthur hadn't seen his blush.

"He said it would help us blend in," Draco explained. "Fat lot of good it did us!" He sat down between Harry and Ron, who had taken the chair at the end of the table.

Arthur put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his fists. "Tell me about who was following you, Draco." Seeing the expression on Draco's face, Arthur sighed and turned to Ron. "Ginny and Hermione might need your help de-gnoming the garden."

"Need my help? With the mood Ginny's in, I think the gnomes might be the ones who-" Ron glanced at Draco, and then nodded. "Oh, yeah. Alright, then."

Once the door slammed shut behind Ron, Arthur focused on Draco once again. The silence was broken only by the jangling of pots and pans as Molly moved about the kitchen like a common house elf.

"We can better protect you if we know what to expect," Arthur prompted. "Tell me what started all of this."

Draco glowered down at the unfinished wooden table, tracing the cracks and knotholes with his eyes. If he told the truth, he would have to endure the sight of Arthur Weasley looking at him with pity, as if being a Malfoy were a kind of disease, as if he, Draco, were some underprivileged cur. If he lied, Harry would only contradict him, and then Arthur would not only know that Draco had been beaten and cursed, but that he was ashamed to say so. After closing his eyes for a moment, Draco raised his chin and looked Arthur Weasley in the eyes.

"It started when Father hexed me with the Cruciatus curse," Draco said flatly.

An hour later, Harry and Draco had each told everything they knew about Lucius and about Phillipe. Unlike Hermione, neither Arthur nor Molly offered any cloying sympathy, though they occasionally glanced at each other as if sharing a thought to which Draco and Harry were not privy.

"You have a place to stay for as long as you need it," Arthur offered.

"It won't be for long!" Draco promised at the same time Harry said, "Thanks."

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione returned from the garden and washed up at the sink, and soon the table was set with dishes and food. Draco ate silently, occasionally deflecting the Weasleys' attempts to engage him in talk of Quidditch matches or prod him for his impressions of Muggle London. When they had arrived at the Burrow, Draco had prepared himself for the inevitable disgusting spectacle of Harry and Ginny snogging, but judging from the way the two of them were acting, he would be spared that sight. They could hardly even look at each other, let alone exchange a word.

When the meal was over, Draco caught Harry's eye and pointed toward the stairwell. Without watching to see if Potter was following, Draco climbed the stairs and made his way to the door of the tiny room that Ron had shown him earlier. He opened the door and stood to the side. Not surprisingly, Potter had followed on his heels and now proceeded him through the door. Moving quickly, Draco entered the room, slammed the door behind him, drew his wand, and whispered "Muffliato!"

When Harry turned to face him, Draco raised his wand, shouting, "Locomotor Potter!" He felt the spell snap into place, creating a magical connection between Harry's body and Draco's wand. A tiny flick of Draco's wrist lifted Harry so that his head nearly touched the ceiling. Before Potter could reach for his own wand, Draco used his left hand to snatch it and tuck it into his sleeve. A thrusting motion with his right hand forced Harry back against the wall, and Draco closed the distance between them. His left hand wrapped around Harry's throat, and he used his wand to slide Harry down the wall until he hung just above the floor, almost nose-to-nose with Draco. He could feel Harry's pulse accelerating and the muscles in his neck tightening with fear.

"Draco, why are you doing this?" Harry's body tensed as he fought the spell.

"Tell me what you told Weasley, about us," Draco ordered. His fingers tightened their grip.

"I didn't-" Harry began, looking to the side.

Draco moved his hand upward, gripped Harry's jaw, and turned his head forward, forcing him to choose between closing his eyes and looking Draco in the face. "You're lying! Weasley threatened to turn me into a ferret if I break your heart-" Harry smirked at that, and Draco squeezed harder, pressing against Harry's jawbone until the tips of his fingers hurt. "-and I want to know why! What did you tell him about us?"

"I didn't tell him anything about us!" Harry jerked his chin free and managed to drum his feet against the wall.

"But you told him something, a secret." Draco's left hand settled back into place on Harry's neck, his palm touching Potter's adam's apple. "Tell me what it was."

"No." His muscles straining with the effort, Harry managed to shake his head almost imperceptibly. "Not like this. Let me down, and I'll tell you."

"Tell me now, and I'll let you down," Draco countered. He took a half-step forward, putting himself hip-to-hip and shoulder-to-shoulder with the Gryffindor. His mouth was close to Harry's ear. Even if he released the spell, he would still hold Harry helpless. The feeling was amazing. Each twitch of Potter's squirming body sent thrills through him, though of course it was only the sense of power that Draco found exciting, not Potter's scrawny, unimpressive body or the bulge in the front of his pants.

"No!" Harry repeated, panting with the effort of his struggles against the spell. His breath was hot and moist in Draco's ear. "You're better than this! I know you are. Just let me down and we can talk!"

Draco considered his options. With the spell in place, he could do anything to Potter. He could beat the truth out of him and make him pay for every little humiliation, every time a stranger had given them that horrible knowing smirk. He tightened his hand, and he could hear the change in Potter's breathing as well as feel the blood coursing through his arteries. He was suddenly aware that he held something fragile, something he could crush if he wanted to, and the image of one of his mother's roses flashed through his mind. "Fine." A flick of Draco's wand released Harry, and he fell the short distance to the floor.

Harry's hand came up to cover Draco's, but instead of trying to peel Draco's fingers from his throat, Harry simply cupped the back of Draco's hand. "Better," he murmured. His other hand reached into Draco's sleeve, retrieving his wand.

"What did you tell Weasley?" Draco asked again. His grip on Harry had loosened, but he couldn't make himself back away.

Harry's thumb moved in small, slow circles on Draco's wrist. "I told him I had feelings for you."

Draco broke away from Harry and backed to the opposite end of the room. "Feelings for me!" he scoffed. "You sound like a twelve year old girl."

"When Ron saw us together, he must have thought we were..." Harry trailed off, blushing. He sank onto one of the narrow beds and slouched against the wall.

"Not even with the Imperious curse, Potter." Instantly, Draco regretted making the joke, as it triggered a fantasy of being forced to please Harry. He would be blameless, no matter what sick, depraved things Potter forced him to do, and instead of making him nauseous, the idea aroused him.

"I wouldn't do that," Harry said quietly.

"No, you wouldn't; you think you're too good for dark magic." Draco shook his head as he looked down at Harry. "You're not as noble as you pretend to be, though, are you? You go on about friendship, but you're the one with an ulterior motive. Would you even be here if you didn't want to shag me?"

"Would you be here if you weren't running from your father?"

"At least I was honest about what I wanted from you! Is there anything else you've kept from me?" Draco asked.

"Just the dream."

"What?"

"The dream- the one that woke you up and had you running to my room. In the dream, Voldemort told me I had to kill either you or Ginny, but there was more to it than that. The one I didn't kill would become a vessel for my soul. I chose you, Draco. I killed Ginny, and I pulled you up to your feet and kissed you-"

"I'm sorry I asked! Don't tell me things like that. Just don't. I don't want to hear them. I don't care!" Draco kicked the mattress hard and began to pace the room, but the activity did nothing to dissipate the unbearable torrent of emotion raging inside him. He couldn't trust himself to look at Harry; if he did that, he might lose control.

"Now you're the one who's lying!" Harry laughed humorlessly.

"Am I, Potter?" Draco stopped and bent forward so that, once again, their faces nearly touched. "Alright. Here's the truth: I'm not like Tonks and Andromeda. I won't shame myself and disgrace my name just so I can fuck who I want to."

Harry rose quickly, seized Draco's arm, wrapped his fingers around the Dark Mark, and squeezed. "Your father disgraced your name when he joined Voldemort, and you shamed yourself the day you did this!" He shook Draco's arm for emphasis. "Nothing you do with me could ever be as bad as that. I may be a half-blood and a filthy deviant, but you're the one who's damaged goods, Draco Malfoy. You're the one who would be lucky to have me."

Draco wrenched himself from Harry's grip and brushed his left arm with his right hand is if swatting off dirt. He turned and stepped toward the door. With his hand on the knob, he looked over his shoulder. "When I marry Pansy Parkinson, I'll invite you to the wedding."

As soon as the sound of Draco's footsteps had faded, the floor shook with the thunder of two sets of feet running up the wooden staircase. The door to the bedroom swung open, bounced back, and then opened again, admitting Ron and Hermione, who both raced to Harry's side.

"We saw Malfoy running out-" Hermione began.

"- wouldn't say a word to us!" Ron added.

"We had to make sure you're alright. You are, aren't you?" Hermione sat down opposite Harry and regarded him as if checking a homework assignment for mistakes.

Harry considered hexing them both or running out of the room as Draco had, but he felt the perverse need to prove himself better than the Slytherin, and so he forced himself to nod. "I'm fine. He's not dangerous." He ran his fingers over his neck and jaw, wincing slightly. Phillipe had done most of the damage, but Draco had added a few new bruises.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, the same one Harry had sometimes seen pass between Molly and Arthur. It expressed their mutual disbelief as well as their joint unwillingness to point out Harry's obvious insanity. He hated it.

"I don't need protection from Draco!" Harry shouted, glaring mostly at Ron, who had sat down beside Hermione. "It's your little speech from this afternoon that has him in his current snit."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Ron shrugged. "When I saw you here with Malfoy, I thought you and he were an item."

Hermione looked as if she had just apparated. Her eyes widened as she looked from Harry to Ron and back. "Why would Ron think that, Harry? It's not true, is it?"

"It's-" Harry sighed, looking at the back of the door and remembering Draco's parting words from a moment ago. "It's complicated. I care for him; he's put his life in my hands, and he's saved mine. It's more than that, though. I'm... drawn to him; I think I always have been."

"But this afternoon, he said-" Ron began.

"I know what he says!" Harry cut him off, not wanting to hear Draco's overdramatic protests second hand. "What he does is another story. There was a moment in a store washroom-"

"Sounds romantic," Ron commented, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Hermione, who asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing, really." Harry felt his face burning, and he silently cursed himself for bringing up such a private memory. "He threatened and insulted me, actually, but it was..." he waved his hands, frustrated at not finding words.

"All of this makes so much sense!" Hermione said. "I don't know why I didn't see it before!"

"Yeah, real obvious!" Ron laughed.

"It is, though!" Hermione grinned, pleased with herself for having made an observation. "Draco has always been obsessed with Harry, and he couldn't express his real feelings, or the other Slytherins would have done something awful to him. That's why he was so horrible to Harry, and probably why he hated us, too." Her smile faded, and her eyes misted over as if she were describing the misfortunes of a house elf. "And Harry, well, given his past, it's not surprising that he's drawn to the one person who most abused and degraded him, almost as if he were reliving his childhood."

"Or maybe they're both just mental," Ron mused. "No offense, Harry."

Harry frowned at the back of the door. He had tuned out halfway through Hermione's speech, thinking about Draco. "I don't like him being out there alone," he muttered.

"He'll be fine as long as he stays inside the wards that Mum and Dad set," Ron promised.

Hermione stood up and moved toward the door. "I can go talk to him if you want me to."

"No!" Harry said quickly, shaking his head. "This was hard enough without the two of you meddling, and it's worse now. I'll go find him myself."

Ron and Hermione exchanged another one of those looks. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" Hermione asked. "No matter how you feel about him, he's still Malfoy."

"I thought you would be the one wanting to give him a second chance," Harry said.

"I do! Just not if it puts you in danger."

"I can take care of myself." Harry stood and pushed past her in order to reach the door.

Moments later, he was outside in the front garden, scanning for any sign of Draco in the fading daylight. Harry found him walking circles around the pond, his hands in his pockets and his head tilted down, studying the ground.

"About what I said..." Harry began.

Draco ignored him and continued walking.

"Almost everything you've done," Harry continued, "I would have done in your place. If my father had been alive, and if he had told me Voldemort's cause was the right one, I would have believed him. I know that. What I don't know is whether I would have been able to see through the lies, to see that what I was doing was wrong. What I mean to say is, I don't know if I would have been as strong as you."

"So that's the kind of rubbish you brood about, is it?" Draco snorted. His mouth twitched with what could have been a sneer or a smile.

"Look, I'm trying to apologize, and to say I do want to be your friend, no matter what ulterior motives you think I have. And if you really want to marry Pansy Parkinson, I'll stand by you at your wedding."

"If I marry Pansy Parkinson, do me a favor- cast the killing curse and put me out of my misery." This time, the smile was unmistakable.

"So you didn't mean it." Harry could hear the relief in his own voice and cursed his own transparency.

"Oh, don't get your hopes up. I didn't say I was marrying you either."

After a long silence, Draco stopped and turned to face Harry. He raised a hand, and Harry had to force himself not to flinch in expectation of being grabbed. To Harry's surprise, Draco ran his fingertips lightly over the tender spots on Harry's jaw and neck. "I couldn't stand you keeping secrets from me, talking to Weasley behind my back about me-"

"I know." Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the strange combination of sensations as Draco touched the sore places his earlier tantrum had left. He didn't dare move; anything he did might make Draco decide to push him away again. "I should have told you the truth the night you came to my house."

"Episkey." Draco whispered the word, and Harry felt a slight jolt go through him.

When Harry opened his eyes, he saw Draco lowering his wand. Harry raised his hand to his face, probing for the bruises left by Draco's fingertips, but they were gone, along with the lingering pain from Phillipe's attack. "I didn't know you could do that."

"Neither did I." Draco smiled and pulled Harry's hand away so that he could view his accomplishment. "I'm still finding out what I'm capable of." His hand remained closed around Harry's.

"Draco!" Ron's voice startled them both.

Draco flung Harry's hand away and glared at Ron. "Not a word, Weasley. Not a damned word!"

"I wasn't going to say anything!" Ron held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I just came to tell you that one of the Malfoy house elves is here to see you."

Draco swore and began walking rapidly toward the house, forcing Harry and Ron to jog in order to keep up with his long strides. He threw the door open to reveal a cringing, rag-clad house elf surrounded by Arthur, Molly, Ginny, and Hermione. The three Weasleys looked ready to draw their wands if the elf made a sudden move, but Hermione was in the act of offering it tea, which the little creature refused.

"Kraven!" Draco spat. "What are you doing here?"

"Master Draco." The elf bowed low and blinked large, solemn eyes that held none of Kreacher's resentment. "Kraven is to tell Master Draco that Mistress Narcissa is injured."

"Injured? How?" Draco asked.

"Kraven cannot say, Master Draco." The little elf cringed and wrung his hands.

Hermione knelt in front of Kraven and looked him in the eyes. "Does that mean you don't know, or were you ordered not to tell us?"

The house elf looked to Draco and waited for him to nod before answering. "Kraven was ordered to tell Master Draco only that Mistress is injured."

"And now Kraven is ordered to tell me what happened to my mother!" Draco said. When Kraven shook his head and began rocking on his heels, Draco continued, "It was my father, wasn't it? You know! You know what happened. You know everything that goes on in that house, and if you don't tell me, I'll-"

Hermione stood and spun to face Draco. "Don't you dare threaten him!" To Kraven she said, "Can you bring Mrs. Malfoy here so we can help her?"

"Kraven was ordered not to help her escape, was told he would be killed for helping Mistress."

"Yeah, but by telling us she needs help, aren't you-" Ron began, but Hermione silenced him with an elbow to the stomach.

"Where is she?" Draco demanded.

"Mistress Narcissa is locked under the parlor in Malfoy Manor."

"Then that's where we're going." Draco reached for Harry's hand and braced himself as if expecting to apparate immediately.

"We need to think this through," Harry said. "It could be a trap. We don't even know if he's telling the truth."

Molly and Arthur nodded their agreement. "I can have a team of aurors there soon," Arthur promised.

"Soon isn't good enough!" Draco dropped Harry's hand and began to pace like a caged animal.

The house elf made a whimpering sound. "Kraven must return to bring Mistress Narcissa food and water, as he was ordered." He began to raise his hand, but before he could snap his fingers, Molly cried "Immobilus!" Freezing him like a statue.

"We can't let him leave," Molly explained. "He'll go back to Lucius and tell him exactly where Harry is."

"But he's the one taking care of Mother!" Draco protested.

"Or that's an excuse to get us to let him go," Arthur mused.

"Fine. Then I'll pay Father a surprise visit. If no one cares enough to help me, I'll take a broom and fly there myself!" Draco pivoted and started for the door, but Harry caught him by the elbows.

"And if Phillipe is there with him, what will you do then?" Harry asked, his muscles straining with the effort of holding Draco in place. "They'll be prepared for your Patronus this time, they may even have set traps on the Manor. You have no proof that your mother is in danger, Draco! Nothing has changed."

"You don't understand!" Draco twisted and jerked, attempting to free himself and landing a few painful blows to Harry's ribs with his elbows.

Harry leaned close to Draco and spoke in a whisper. "I understand that your mother sent you to me because she trusted me. You told me that the night you came to Grimmauld Place with your luggage case and your sob story. She trusted me to keep you safe, and I'm going to do that, even if it means hexing you."

"Let him go, Harry!" Ginny groaned. "He can take my broomstick."

Hermione glared at Ginny before moving to stand in front of Draco. "I know you're worried about your mother, but there are six of us, and at least five of us want to help you stay alive. Do you honestly think you can get past all of us?"

Draco's arms slumped to his sides, and he hung his head. "I'm not bloody stupid, Granger."

Harry released him, and Draco immediately bolted for the door. Five wands pointed at him, but Harry was the first to cast a spell. Taking a lesson from Draco himself, he shouted, "Locomotor Malfoy!" and lifted Draco several inches off of the floor. Ron's disarming charm followed soon after, leaving Draco wandless, and suspended in the air.

"So we're just going to keep Draco and Kraven like this for- how long was it until Malfoy's trial?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry said quickly. "I think we've made our point." He released the spell and watched as Draco fell to the floor, stumbling and catching himself on the back of a chair. Ron continued to hold Draco's wand alongside his own and seemed in no hurry to return it.

"Yes, you've made your point. I'm a prisoner, just as much as my mother is." Draco pulled out a chair and flopped into it.

"What we need to do is gather information," Hermione said, looking at Draco. "If Molly releases Kraven, can you order him to stay here before he disappears?"

Draco nodded.

Molly raised her wand. "When I give the signal, Draco, you give him the order. Then, with your help, we can question him and find out if he's telling the truth. We'll make sure your mother is safe, I promise."

"Not if you don't stop talking!" Draco snapped. "Do it now. I'll give the order when I see him move."

Molly flicked her wand, and as Kraven's eyes began to blink, Draco screamed, "Kraven, stay here! That's an order."

"As Master Draco orders," Kraven agreed.

"Ask him if-" Hermione began.

"I'll do this my way!" Draco pulled his chair close to Kraven and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his fists. "Kraven, how badly is my mother injured?"

Kraven folded himself into a ball. His ears lowered until they clung to the side of his head.

"Answer me, damn it!" Draco shouted. When Kraven remained oblivious, Draco knelt beside him, lifted one of his ears, and screamed into it. "I said answer me! How badly is she hurt?"

The house elf whimpered, and his body began to shake.

"You're worthless!" Draco spun on his heel, paced the length of the room, and knelt in front of Kraven again. "I ordered you to answer my question!" He stood and raised a foot, but before he could land a kick, Hermione put herself between Kraven and Draco.

"That's enough! He can't answer you, not if your father ordered him not to. Kicking him won't help!"

"Bollocks! If he doesn't do what I say, he's defective property."

"He's not property!" Hermione spat. "He's only being loyal-"

"No, he's not." Draco's voice had gone dangerously quiet, and Harry poised himself to step between him and Hermione if necessary. "My mother never once beat him, or ordered him to punish himself, or even screamed at him. And now he won't help me help her because of some bloody spell? Some rubbish code of honor? If it were me taking my father's side, you'd pull your wand on me, but when it's him, you make excuses."

"That's because you know better! He doesn't! He can't!" Hermione stamped a foot in frustration. "It's not fair to ask him to-"

Kraven howled, cutting her off. When his wailing died down, he sobbed, "Master Draco is right! Kraven knows better, knows Mistress Narcissa was always kind to Kraven." He rose to his full height, which meant that the tips of his ears were level with Draco's navel. After pushing Hermione aside, he tilted his head upwards and met Draco's eyes. "Most of the cuts had stopped bleeding by the time Kraven was ordered to clean them. Mistress Narcissa had a broken arm, and her face-" The elf spread his fingers and cradled his face in his palms. "Kraven is sorry, Master Draco! Kraven wanted to help, but Kraven must do as Master Malfoy orders!" Once the words were out of his mouth, he raised a hand and sank his teeth into his own flesh. Blood streamed from the corners of his mouth.

"Stop that!" Draco snapped. "It's disgusting. I don't care if you're sorry! Just tell me was it- was it worse than the other times?"

Hermione gasped, and Harry met her eyes and shook his head, signaling her to stay silent.

Kraven nodded. He sobbed and made a wet honking noise, and when he raised his face again, it was a sticky, gleaming mess of tears and mucus. Arthur handed the house elf a handkerchief.

Draco stood and kicked over the chair. When he turned back to Kraven, Harry wondered if he would vent his rage on the house elf, but his fists stayed at his side. "Did my father send you here? Is my mother even injured, or is this a trap?"

The elf looked like a squirming child in desperate need of a lavatory. "Mistress Narcissa is truly injured, Master Draco. Kraven was ordered to tell Master Draco in order to bring Master Draco home. Kraven was ordered to return immediately after informing Master Draco of Mistress' injuries."

Kraven's eyes darted around the room, finding Molly's paring knife lying on a folded towel next to the sink. He lunged for it. Hermione tackled him, but he threw her off, snatched the knife, and thrust it into one of his large, luminous eyes. Not content with having maimed himself, Kraven began to twist the knife, making a horrible, wet sound. His howls of pain mixed with Hermione's cries of protest. Molly and Arthur each grabbed an arm, and Hermione removed the knife before casting Vulnera Sanenter. Her voice shook as she said the spell, but when she had finished, Kraven blinked up at her with two whole orbs.

"I told you to stop that." Draco shook his head in contempt.

"That's too specific," Harry advised. "It only stopped him from biting his hand. You need to tell him not to punish himself."

"Fine. Bloody stupid elf! Don't punish yourself, not even if Father tells you to."

Molly and Arthur released Kraven, who wiped at the blood with the back of his hand and sniffled.

"Kraven," Molly began. "Are Narcissa's injuries life-threatening?"

"Answer her," Draco said.

"Kraven doesn't believe they are."

Molly nodded, relieved. "I see no reason to keep him here. If Lucius sent Kraven here, he already knows where to find Harry and Draco."

"True," Draco agreed. "Kraven should go back to get Mother and bring her here."

"Are you mental?" Hermione put her arm around the house elf, who had begun to shake and mutter under his breath. "He can't do that! He stuck a knife in his eye just for telling us the truth about your mother's injuries and your father's trap!"

"And I ordered him not to punish himself. That should solve the problem."

Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't! If he tries to disobey a direct order, it could get him killed. I won't let you sacrifice his life."

"Won't let me?" Draco took a step toward her, and once again, Harry restrained him by grabbing both his arms.

Arthur moved to stand in front of Draco and put a hand on his shoulder. "If Kraven dies attempting to free Narcissa now, we lose the closest thing to an ally we have. Consider that before you make your decision."

Draco shurgged free and sidestepped Arthur and Harry. He pointed a finger at Kraven. "I won't ask you to free Mother, but I'm ordering you to make sure she stays alive, do you understand me?"

"Kraven understands, Master Draco."

"Then go!" Draco waved a hand, and Kraven was gone as quickly as he could snap his fingers.

"Can we trust anything he said?" Ron wondered aloud.

"That's a good question." Molly exchanged a glance with Arthur. "You could ask at the Ministry, dear; get someone to go check on Narcissa..."

"I'll take any help I can get," Draco agreed. "We should go now, before Father does anything worse."

Arthur shook his head. "I can start asking around in the morning. And you-" he pointed to Draco, then Harry "- will stay here. Ron, Ginny, Hermione, you, too."

"Yeah, not like I could be of help." Draco snorted. "I'm just the only person besides my parents who's actually lived in Malfoy Manor."

"He has a point, Dad," Ron said.

Molly and Arthur exchanged a look, and it was Molly who said, "Draco, you do understand that your father is not the only one who faces trial?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm not scared. I've got Saint Potter here to clear my name."

"Yes, but when you ran away, it gave the wrong impression." Molly looked down at her hands. "Kingsley's lynx appeared yesterday with the message that the aurors are looking for you. We haven't decided who we can trust. If the wrong people find out you're here..."

"I'll be hauled to Azkaban until the trial," Draco finished. "I don't care! If your friends are really the heroes they're made out to be, they'll help me save my mother first. After that, I can survive nine days in prison. It can't be worse than a roach-infested Muggle hotel."

"Trust me on this, Draco," Arthur told him, reaching out a hand, which Draco evaded.

"'Trust me!'" Draco mocked. "I'm getting tired of hearing that." He stormed up the stairs, and the vibrations from the slamming door of the twins' room reverberated through the house.

Hermione stared at the empty staircase. "You don't think he'll do something stupid, do you?"

"Are you kidding?" Ron replied. "It's Malfoy. I mean, I still have his wand, but even so..."

Suddenly all eyes in the room were on Harry. He sighed and shot a longing glance at the door to the outside. Being in a room with Draco, given his current state of mind, was about as appealing as kissing an Acromantula. "Right. Of course. It's my job to handle him, is it?"

"You said you didn't need protection from him," Hermione reminded him.

Harry ignored her and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He wished that the stairs were a hundred flights long. When he finally reached the twins' room, he opened the door slowly and found Draco perched on the edge of one of the beds, his chin in his hands. Draco's blank stare made Harry want to wave a hand in front of his face, but he fought back the urge and instead sat on the farthest corner of the other bed.

"And why are you here?" Draco asked, after a long, awkward silence.

"To make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"Fat chance of that! Unless you've brought me my wand, or you're willing to apparate out of here with me. No? I didn't think so." Draco made a noise that was more sniffle than snort. He scrubbed at his eyes and combined the gesture with swatting at a stray lock of hair. "It's my fault, you know. I should have brought her to Grimmauld Place with me after I hexed Father."

"You couldn't have known-"

"Yes, I could. He's done it before- taking things out on her. I've heard it before, I've seen it before! They didn't know I was watching, but I've seen him do things-" Draco squeezed his eyes closed.

Harry didn't know what to say. He tried not to think about the room underneath Malfoy Manor or what had been done to Narcissa there. If he thought about it too long, he might be tempted to grab Draco's hand and go, even if it meant getting both of them killed. If I had had the chance, if I could have saved my mother... He shook his head to clear it. That line of thinking had to stop. One of them had to be rational.

"After your grand revelation earlier, I'm surprised you're not trying to comfort me," Draco said, sneering half-heartedly.

"I've been throttled twice today. That was enough." He had meant the words as a joke, but they came out flat and tired. He wondered if, at some impressionable young age, Draco had watched Lucius take Narcissa by the throat and slam her against the wall. That seemed like the kind of thing Hermione would think, and he marveled that even the version of Hermione in his head had the power to irritate him.

He scooted further back onto the bed and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. A moment later, he felt something touch him, and when he opened his eyes, he blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what he saw. Draco Malfoy had moved onto the bed beside him and laid his head in Harry's lap. Harry stroked soft, blonde hair before moving his hand down to squeeze Draco's shoulder. A part of him thought about undoing the buttons on Draco's shirt, and he wanted to punch himself for even thinking that, especially when he could feel the tears soaking through his jeans.

"We'll get her, I promise," Harry murmured. Other platitudes followed; he hardly paid attention as the mindlessly reassuring words dribbled out of his own mouth. He could feel Draco's breathing growing more even, more relaxed.

The doorknob turned with a faint click, and Draco sat bolt upright, quickly running a hand through his hair to put it in place.

"We're not interrupting anything are we?" Ron asked as the door opened. Something familiar dangled from Ron's hand. It was a giant, pink plastic ear.
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Darkness Within The Light