Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

To Find The Missing Lifeline	By : EvilConcubine Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 37353 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't make money from this story.

Chapter List
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2. The Bleeding Prince

     He easily got into their ambush after leaving the library. There was an hour left until the curfew and most students were already in their dorms. And again there was no one else in the corridor. They always picked the right moments and the right places to terrorise him. Draco cursed himself for staying in the library for so long. They surrounded him. There were about ten of them this time! No escape...

"Hello, ferret! It's been a while. Did you miss us?" one of the boys smirked. Draco was pushed against the wall roughly. His books fell on the floor. His heart clenched.

"I think we were too kind to you, you impudent prat." Hit in the face. Draco's lip was split again and the blood was leaking down his chin. He moaned in pain quietly, covering the face with his hands. Gods, how could he be so imprudent to stay alone so late?.. Another hit and this time in his nose. More blood. In panic he made a desperate attempt to tear himself away and run like hell, but was pushed against the wall again and hit with the Stinging Hex in his arm. The pain burned his body and mind. At the same time he was hit with a curse that made him feel worms crawling under his skin. It was more scary and disgusting than painful. He knew some things about this curse. Cast by a skilful wizard or witch, it could drive people insane. It was an illusion, but the victim, eventually, started to see the moving bulges under their skin, started to see and feel the disgusting worms gnawing through the skin and getting outside. Victims often ended up scratching violently, tearing their skin and losing their mind if torture continued for enough time, even if they knew that it was an illusion.

     Draco gasped and bit his injured lip not to scream. He was shaking all over.

"Hey, stop it right now!" someone exclaimed and the caster ended the torture right away. Using spells like this was risky. They didn't want to be caught, using magic against the other student. But they weren't afraid to use their fists. They had done it before, but he hadn't told anyone, and had used charms to hide the evidences of beating.

     More blows were raining down on him. He was slipping down the wall, covering his head and face. There were muffled screams he couldn't hold back. They put him on his feet again. He cursed himself for not telling his godfather about all the things he had to endure. The man would have made it stop for sure. And now Draco was alone again, helpless and humiliated. More blows followed. Not all of them meant to hurt him - some were just mockery. Finally he cried, and the bitter tears were running down his face. His nerves betrayed him.

"Now look at this molly-coddle!" someone snickered.

"Why do you make us hurt you? You know you're the one to stop it. Just get your arse out of the school."

     Someone pulled his hair and someone hit his arm that was hurting terribly after the Stinging Hex. He cried out again.

"I want to see his Dark Mark," one of two girls demanded. Draco's sleeves were rolled up roughly, but there was no Mark, of course.

"What if he has it anywhere else? He's just so special, isn't he? Let's have a look," someone else mocked.

Draco's robes were taken off him quickly and roughly. He realised that they were really going to undress him and something inside of him was burning in shame. Humiliation was overwhelming. It was going too far. He was already thinking about leaving Hogwarts, as they demanded, if they would undress him and leave him naked and beaten up in the corridor. But he just couldn't let it happen and he was determined to do anything he could to avoid this ponderous shame.

"No!" he cried out and tried to push someone away. He was punished with a heavy slap on the head right above the ear. His sight darkened and his ears were stuffed up for more than a minute. He was standing there in shock and even stopped crying. His head was throbbing, but everything was about to lose all the meaning, even his shame and pain. Perhaps, it was a shock or he was close to resigning himself. He had no willpower to fight it, and there was no point anyway, since he was alone in this. There was nothing else left for him to do but to give in, just to make it end sooner. No more useless attempts. 'Do it and leave me alone...'

      Harry was literally buried under his parchments and books. He had to finish an important essay for the next day and he hadn't even started it yet. And at the very last moment he discovered that he didn't have enough books at his disposal to make a worthy work. It was just an hour until the curfew, so he still had time to take some books from the library. Harry decided not to waste any more time and went there with a rapid gait. On the way he noticed a group of people in the corridor. Something was happening. They were beating someone up! He saw a severe slap to the head of that person. He came closer and was completely stunned as he saw a crowd of people from his own house, surrounding Draco Malfoy, whose face was wet with tears and his nose and lips were bleeding. Three boys from the sixth year appeared to be most violent of all of them. Harry recognised them: Julian Dahl, Simon Whitesmith and Carnelian Hays. All the others were mostly watching and instigating them, at least, at this moment. There was even a prefect among them!

"Don't be shy, Malfoy. We just want to look at your Mark," Dahl grabbed and yanked Malfoy's shirt collar. Some buttons were already missing.

"He's just a pussy," someone giggled.

"Undress this scum already."

     Rage was rising inside of Harry as he was seeing this scene. Malfoy didn't even try to fight back. He was just standing there with his back pressed against the wall. His face was turned aside and his eyes were closed. There was no any obvious fear on his face, just some sorrowful anticipation. And helplessness. Harry knew the reason of this helplessness. The Ministry kept its watchful eye on him (as if he hadn't had enough so it was necessary to make his life even more hellish, as if he had to pay for his father's sins, as if it wasn't enough that he himself had been a victim of a mad tyrant), and if Draco would fight back (fight the Gryffindors!) even in self-defence, all of it could be turned against him. They could easily blame him in provoking the Gryffindors or even worse, it could be turned as if he was the one who'd started the fight. His rights were limited and any conflicts, most definitely, wouldn't be solved in his favour. He didn't yield to provocations and didn't fight back even verbally. And even if he would, he was alone against the nine people. Harry was bitterly disappointed in the members of his own house. He remembered his lessons of Occlumency with Snape when by some unlucky accident he'd managed to see the way his own father and his friends had treated young Snape. It was then when he'd been disappointed in his own father for the first time (not really disappointed, but he, at the very least, had realised that the man hadn't been as perfect as people tried to convince Harry, he'd been), but mostly he'd been disappointed in the Gryffindors in tote. It was then when he had wondered why the stereotyped view attached the label of only bravery, chivalry, selflessness and justice to the house of Gryffindor. Stereotypes. The reality just couldn't be that perfect, and those who, at least, had to try to justify their title could behave mean and cowardly, for example, asserting themselves by tormenting someone, who couldn't even spit in their faces in return. Exactly this he was witnessing now. It almost pained him to see Malfoy like this. He'd used to know self-satisfied Malfoy, caustic, proud, arrogant, stubborn, cunning. And now he could only see a broken youth, the dethroned Slytherin Prince.

     Harry quickly approached the crowd, pushing everyone aside to reach Dahl. He grabbed the back of his shirt collar and yanked him back roughly. The boy landed on his arse with the surprised yelp and stared at Harry in disbelief. Then Harry grabbed Whitesmith's chin and pushed him away from Malfoy. Whitesmith nearly fell, but managed to keep the balance and touched his jaw in pain. Everyone stepped back seeing the cold anger on Harry's face.

"That's right. Get the fuck out. I'll make sure the headmistress is aware of what just happened here," he said coldly.

"But it's Malfoy, don't you see?!" the youngest girl objected. She was only fourteen years old, perhaps.

"All I see is a bunch of pathetic pricks and cowards. What the fuck is wrong with you?! This won't happen again; I'll take care about it. Now get out," he almost growled, grabbing the girl's hair and then pushing her away.

"Oww!" she cried, but Harry knew he hadn't been too harsh to really hurt her, even if he wanted to. Everyone left. Some were still surprised, but most of them felt uneasy that they had got into trouble, caught in the act like this, and now the headmistress would find out about it, and, perhaps, she would find out that it wasn't the first time they'd tormented Malfoy. Actually, it wasn't even the tenth time, though hardly ever they had really beaten him up, making him bleed like this. It had gone a little too far this time.

     There were just Harry and Draco left in the corridor. The blond was quite surprised by Harry's outburst, but he was too tired and too hurt to show it on his injured face.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked almost softly.

"Why do you bother?!" Draco spat, trying his best to subdue his still convulsive breathing. "I don't need your help and your pity! What do you want?"

"It's banal: I couldn't watch them taking advantage over the one who couldn't stand up for himself. That was... mean."

"Disappointed, Potter? Welcome to the real world," Draco snorted bitterly. He was really hurt and annoyed.

"It wasn't the first time, was it? How many times did it happen before?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'm not counting," the blond snapped, picking his books off the floor. Harry picked two of those books and handed him. Some 'thank you' appeared in Draco's eyes, however, he wasn't looking at Harry at all. He just couldn't look at him after the Gryffindor had witnessed his humiliation.

"You're bleeding," Harry said and again softly. He suppressed a wish to reach out and wipe the blood from his chin. The blood was leaking again from the split lip, probably disturbed because of talking. "You have to go to the infirmary."

"No. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Draco answered firmly, shielding himself with coldness and indifference. Anyway, Harry cast healing spells on his nose and lip. Draco flinched and jerked back in surprise and anxiety, seeing the wand pointed at him. His taut nerves betrayed him again, but he relaxed a little, realizing what Potter was really doing. His bleeding stopped and the deep splits skinned over just a little bit. He touched his lip with his tongue. It still hurt, but not as bad as before. The blond cast a cleaning spell on himself to remove the blood from his shirt and face. He also cast a repairing spell on his shirt. It didn't look good enough anyway, so he was determined to get rid of it later.

"Let me, at least, see you to your dorms," Harry offered. He still wasn't sure if Malfoy wasn't injured more than he let on. He'd seen that hit in the head. It could be serious.

"I wonder if it has something to do with your odd inclination to waste your time on the pathetic ones and the wretched ones. Not sure if I should be honoured though," the Slytherin mumbled almost spitefully. "Don't trouble yourself."

"Let me see you to your dorms or I'll drag you to the infirmary by force," Harry warned firmly. Draco was too tired to argue.

"As you wish. But I don't live with the other Slytherins."

"You have a room of your own then?"

"Yes, in the dungeons," Slytherin sighed, tidying himself up and straightening his tie. Harry noticed that the blonde's hands were shaking.

"I envy. I'd love to have a room too," the dark-haired youth smiled slightly, trying to relieve the tension.

"Then why don't you ask McGonagall? I'm sure she would eagerly make concessions to her Golden Boy," Draco murmured tiredly as they were already heading to the dungeons. The blond walked at a slow pace and Harry didn't want to hurry him up. Draco's heart hurt, but he tried to make no sign of it. He needed his potions. His left arm was in pain because of the Stinging Curse. It had probably affected the nerve, so his arm hurt all the way down, but his fingers felt numb. Everything hurt, in fact.

"Oh, you won't believe it, but I don't want to be treated in some special way. I don't want any indulgences. I'm tired of it all," the Gryffindor answered.

"Well, they made me... an indulgence then, so I swell with pride."

"I believe it was made for your protection," the Gryffindor stated the obvious fact, ignoring the Slytherin's bitter sarcasm. Draco just shrugged.

     They were silent for the rest of their way. Harry just walked alongside the Slytherin, who led the way. They reached Draco's room, protected by a portrait of a dark wizard from the Middle Ages. The man was wearing the rich black robes with the golden embroidery, and was reading a book with some kind of a pentagram on its cover. He had the dark-brown hair and a small beard. He looked at the boys with a scowl, tearing himself away from the book, though he didn't look frightening.

"Well... This is where I live. You may tell your friends about it, to make every Gryffindor know," Draco said sarcastically.

"Why are you saying this? I didn't have such intentions when I suggested my company. Look... If some idiots from my house make your life complicated, don't recon me among them."

"A great hero and a Saviour shows me such kindness? How so?" the blond sighed.

"Because everything's different now. We were children. For my part, I outgrew our conflicts and bickering that we had in the past," Harry explained simply.

"Oh, no. It's all because I seem so pathetic now; oh, poor me... You don't consider me a threat, and you also pity me. How generous of you."

"No. It's not because of you. It's because of me. And, what of those idiots, I'll make sure they won't bother you again."

"Umm? Sounds threatening. And what are you planning to do about them? Kill them? I'm flattered," Slytherin almost laughed, but the pain in his chest prevented him from doing it. He just couldn't believe that Potter would do anything to make the pricks stop. And he couldn't believe that Potter would actually do anything like that for him. Why would he? And if he would, would that work? No, it was stupid to hope that he would be finally left alone...

"McGonagall has to be informed about it anyway."

"No. You better let it be then. I don't want her to make the official announcement about it. It's already humiliating enough and I don't want the rest of the school to be informed," the blond frowned and tensed a little.

"This won't happen. I promise," Harry assured. He noticed that the pained expression on the Slytherin's face intensified for a second.

"I see you have nothing better to do, Potter."

"You may say so," the brunet shrugged, looking in the grey eyes with slightly swollen and reddened eyelids due to the earlier weeping.

"I think you should leave," Draco said coldly, feeling uncomfortable about the way Potter was looking at him.

"Yeah, right... Take care," Harry nodded and left.

     Draco entered his room. 'Thank you,' he thought, realizing that he hadn't thanked Potter for anything. And still he was quite sceptical about his promise to make idiots stop getting on him. But why would Potter even get himself involved in this? And what about the solidarity with the people of his own house? Why would he do anything against them? Did he need something from Draco? No, it didn't look like Potter... He just pitied him or he was just ashamed of his housemates. Anyway, Draco couldn't help, but feel grateful; but angry... and humiliated. And he was still hurt. His heart was calming down, but the pain was still there. He was dizzy; his head pulsed with pain, as well as his ribs, stomach, shoulders and arm.

     He took the potion to ease the pain in his heart and the other one to ease the pain in general, and prepared himself a bath with the calming scent of the bath oil. He needed to calm down. Eventually, he started to relax in warm water. He finally felt safe.

     Could his life have changed that much that Potter was the one who had protected him? 'Will I ever recover? Will the pain ever stop?' he thought, rubbing his bruised and still aching body carefully with the washcloth. Pain... He would never really get used to it, even after he had endured so much of it already. And then he really started to think that returning to Hogwarts wasn't a good idea, after all; that he had had to listen to Severus and wait for the next year. He just wanted to study, wanted to end the school and think about his future. But what future? Did he have any in the first place?

     After putting the soothing poultices on his bruises and abrasions, he used the remains of the salve he'd made the last time he'd been beaten up. He fell asleep after his Deep Sleep potion, suspecting that he had exceeded his normal dose.

     In the morning Draco felt jaded. It took him some time to get up and reach the mirror. He examined a huge purple bruise on his stomach and the smaller ones across his ribs and on the shoulders. They had already started to heal because of his treatment. But his arm was still in pain, though the sensitivity had almost returned to the fingers. He clenched and unclenched the fist several times to exercise them. His hands were still trembling. There was a painful hardening where the Stinging Hex had hit him, right above the inner side of his elbow, and he could hardly bend his arm. The nerve was doubtlessly affected. It got better after another warm poultice. Draco's face, however, looked a little better than it had looked last night with the exception of the bruised temple, slightly swollen eye and a bruise at the corner of his mouth. But he didn't feel well anyway even after the pain relieving potion. He felt like spending the day in bed.

     Draco entered his godfather's chambers, still dressed in his pyjamas and the silk pale-blue dressing gown, hoping that the man was still there.

"Morning, Severus," he greeted him.

"Good morning," the man replied.

"I... really need a release from my lessons today."

"Why? You don't feel well, do you?" Severus asked a little concerned. Draco looked paler than he usually did, and exhausted too. He had disguised his bruises, but there was nothing he could do about his visible weariness.

"Yes... I'm not going to fritter away, I promise. I'll just study in my room, if I may."

"Fine. Why don't you go to the infirmary for the examination?"

"There's no need to. I'll take care of myself. Just need a little rest. I'll be fine, I assure you."

"Then return to your room and have some rest. You look terrible."

"Thank you, Severus," Draco sighed and left.

     He fell asleep very soon again due to his exhaustion, feeling relieved that he, at least, had this day to himself. His bed seemed to be the most comfortable place to spend it.

     Harry had half-expected that the blond would miss this school day after the events of the last night. He hadn't even showed up in the Great Hall for breakfast and then for lunch and dinner too. The Gryffindor was even a little concerned about it. In any case, he had some news for Malfoy, and since he had no opportunity to talk to him in person and he would hardly be welcomed in the blonde's private room, Harry took a parchment and a quill, and started to write when his friends weren't around. He found his white owl in the owlery and gave her the letter. She was an exact copy of Hedwig. It was Ron's gift. Ron knew that Harry missed Hedwig terribly, so he'd decided to cheer up his friend, hoping that he wouldn't make it worse instead. He knew that no other owl would replace Hedwig, but Harry had been very grateful for Ron's attention. Harry had called his new owl Snowflake, even if it wasn't very original. Actually, it was Ron who had offered several names and Harry had just chosen one of them.

     Snowflake took his letter and flew away in the direction of the dungeons.

     Draco woke up after a long and good sleep. He found his dinner (or more likely it was both dinner and lunch) left on his desk. Some elf of the castle had left it for him. It was still hot and Draco was very hungry. He almost finished enjoying the meal, when he heard someone's scratching at his door outside. He took his wand in his hand, just in case.

"Who's there?" he asked. No one answered. He bit his lip, thinking if he should open the door and check. The portrait was silent for some reason. The scratching repeated and Draco started to get nervous.

"It's an owl," the wizard on the portrait finally informed. "My apology, young man, I was distracted by the conversation with a lady from the other portrait."

     Draco relaxed, let the owl in and took the letter out of her beak when she made herself comfortable on the back of the chair. He wondered who could have written him. It wasn't Severus' owl. Perhaps, it was from someone who hated him. Just a letter full of insults. He opened the envelope, after examining it for possible curses, and extracted a piece of parchment out of it.

'Draco,

     As I promised, those idiots won't trouble you anymore. McGonagall was mad when she found out everything. They've got detentions with her and Filch for two months, and she's taken 100 points (!) from the Gryffindor in addition to every single point our house has earned since the beginning of this school year. She was talking to them in private without the other teachers or students, but I was there as a witness. They've admitted everything they did to you even before yesterday when I saw them attacking you. They also confessed that there were more people involved, so some more students have joined them in detentions. You could have told me about it in the first place.

     She also told them that if she finds out that they attack you again or hurt anyone else, they can pack their bags and go home, because she won't tolerate such things in her school.

     I hope you're pleased.

Harry Potter.'

     Draco smiled. He was surprised that everything had turned out so well for him. 'And since when does he call me 'Draco'?' he smirked to himself. 'And, yes, I'm pleased, Potter. How should I thank you? I assume, I'll just say it as soon as I have a chance.' He looked at his reflection in the mirror and frowned, seeing that he was smiling 'like a fool'.

     He gave the bird two pieces of the boiled beef, which were the remains of his dinner, hoping that she wouldn't bite his fingers. She didn't. He remembered that he had already seen the white owl many times in the Great Hall and it was Potter's, though he wasn't sure if it was the same owl. The white bird wasn't in hurry to leave.

"I won't write him back," Draco said and placed his forearm in front of the owl. She moved herself on an offered forearm and he let her out of his room. Draco's mood was much better now. He sat down on the bed, propping his back up with pillows and started to read the new book on The Ancient Runes.

     After the end of the lessons Severus came to him. Draco hoped his godfather just wanted to inquire about his health or brought him his homework, since no one else would do it. To Draco's surprise the man pointed his wand at him almost immediately after entering the room, before the blond had a chance to say something.

"Finite," Severus muttered quietly, and Draco's disguise was removed, so all the abrasions and bruises became visible. Draco was embarrassed. The look of the man's eyes was enough to make even his godson pull his head into shoulders. 'He knows... McGonagall has told him, of course.'

"I saw them bulling you once, and reacted properly without knowing that there was much more than that. I suspected that something has been wrong with you lately, but, apparently, I relayed too much hopes on your common sense, supposing that you would have told me about anything like this. Would you, please, explain yourself?"

"I was ashamed..." the boy admitted quietly.

"You were ashamed to bother me, telling me that you were repeatedly abused by the other students; taunted, threatened, pushed downstairs, hexed, beaten up more than once?! That was utterly foolish of you, because your secrecy untied their hands completely. You've punished yourself. Why do you think I'm here? I could be staying at home, unaware of it all, equally well."

"I know..." Draco sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to burden you with my problems."

"This is the most idiotic excuse. And, as a matter of fact, it's not only your problem, it is the school's problem as well, however, quite frankly, it's not what concerns me. Do you realise that I'm responsible for you?" he kept scolding. In a strange way his concerns comforted Draco even if there were no soothing words. He just knew that his godfather meant well. 'Yes, I know you love me. Mutually,' Draco smiled to himself, however, he wouldn't dare to smile openly at the angry man.

"I'm sorry. I was really confused. Don't be angry with me, please. It won't happen again," he promised. Severus sighed and shook his head. He pointed his wand at the boy again to cast some examining spells.

"Show me your arm," he demanded. There was no need to ask which one, so Draco just showed his aching hardening. The skin was purple around it and there were spidery-looking blood vessels, visible under the inflamed skin. Severus cast some spells on it and the boy felt a little better. The hardening already started to resolve, though it needed time to heal.

"I see you've taken care of your bruises. Stay in bed today and rest. Are you certain there's no need to inform Madam Pomfrey?"

"I'm certain. I just needed rest. I already feel better," the boy assured.

"How is your heart? Are you taking all of your daily potions?"

"Yes, I am. My heart feels better, but it was aching yesterday..."

"I'm not surprised after the details that the headmistress has shared with me," Severus frowned again. He was about to leave when Draco stopped him.

"Severus... Thank you," he said. The man nodded with a scowl and left. Draco knew his godfather was still mad, but he also knew that it wouldn't last long.

     The next day before the Potions, Draco saw Potter near the classroom. His two friends were arguing with each other, standing aside, so they even paid no attention when the blond Slytherin came closer to Harry, who had actually encouraged Draco to approach him with the look of his eyes, seeing that the blond wanted to say something to him, but wasn't sure if it was the right moment.

"I wanted to say that I'm grateful for what you did for me yesterday, no matter what reasons induced you to do it," Draco thanked. He sounded polite, though, a little too formal, perhaps. But it was exactly how he'd planned it to be.

"You're welcome. I'm glad that it's settled," Harry nodded and even gave him a small smile.

     The lesson wasn't as pleasant for Draco as usually. Severus was still angry with him and his godson could clearly feel it without any visible indications.

     However, everything seemed to be much better between them when they went to the Quidditch match between Slytherins and Gryffindors in the end of the week. Draco was sitting next to his godfather. The results of the match were predictable, since Potter was the Gryffindor's seeker. The Slytherin's seeker was some promising boy from the fifth year. Nevertheless, he didn't have much experience. But he was a good flyer, and he had already won the training match with Ravenclaws this year. And now they were losing to the Gryffindors. Draco wasn't really focused on the results; he enjoyed watching the game itself and the players. After all, he had used to be one! He still remembered the way the wind had been lashing his face and dishevelling his hair. He remembered how he'd felt, making all those giddy manoeuvres in the air. It had always been breathtaking...

     No one was surprised when the Gryffindors had won, and Harry was flying slowly and victoriously, showered with ovations, cheering and unfading attention, with the snitch in his hand. Nothing particularly new, in other words, but somehow a reminder of Draco's early school years, when losing the game had seemed to be a catastrophe, and there hadn't been many equal disappointments like that one.

"I'll go for a walk," Draco told Severus. The man nodded.

     Draco was walking at a slow pace near the pitch with his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. He was relaxed, enjoying the fresh air. He turned his head, feeling, rather than hearing, that someone was approaching him. It was Potter on his broom. Harry caught up with the blond and was flying next to him slowly as Draco kept walking.

"I thought you'd be a seeker of the Slytherins. Why have you given up Quidditch?" Harry asked.

"It's just... I'm not interested anymore, I believe," Draco shrugged.

"Oh, come on. You were a good seeker. And I saw you on the stands. Your eyes looked so nostalgic and fascinated. Why don't you start playing again and kick my arse, at last?" Potter grinned.

"Tempting. But I can't," Draco replied. ' 'Your eyes looked so nostalgic and fascinated'? Does it mean he was paying attention to me during the game? Interesting... And I care why?' he mused lazily.

"But why? I don't believe that the Slytherins wouldn't take you back in your team. Or is that your way to avoid attention?" Harry asked again. He threw the snitch up. The blond jumped up and caught it gracefully. He looked at it for a few moments without stopping his slow walk and then threw it back to Potter.

"In a less degree," Draco answered.

"What's the main reason then?" Harry insisted.

"I don't want to talk about it," the blond frowned a little.

"Oh, come on, Malfoy. What's the problem?"

"My health."

"You mean... Are you ill?" The Gryffindor was slightly confused now.

"Tsk... You're so persistent! I will answer your question, so we wouldn't come back to this anymore. My health is undermined, thanks to Lucius and Voldemort. My heart and my lungs are not well. I had several heart attacks during tortures, which wasn't surprising, considering everything they did to me. Perhaps, it will get better later, but for now I take potions every day, and any excessive physical activity is not recommended. Yes, consider me a wreck of my former self," he explained almost mater-of-factly, not without irritation though. Actually, he felt vulnerable and almost regretted his confession immediately.

"No... I should have known. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have to be so nosy," Harry stuttered, feeling very uncomfortable with himself. He knew that Draco had been dragged through hell, but now that he'd heard it firsthand from the blond, Harry really took it to heart. He recollected Skeeter's article and felt uneasy. 'And after he endured so much pain, what must I do, but remind him of it? Stupid...' He also was furious about those cowards from his own house again. 'What if they have aggravated Draco's state?' He suddenly felt very protective of the blond. Draco noticed the look in his eyes and frowned.

"Don't you dare pity me," he said firmly, pointing his finger at Harry.

"It's not a pity. And I apologised."

"Apology accepted," Draco said coldly.

     They were walking silently for couple of minutes; well, the Slytherin was walking and Harry was still on his broom alongside of him.

"Are you alright? I mean... I hope no one's bothering you anymore?" the brunet finally asked.

"No, not yet," the blond shrugged.

"Do you think they're going to start it again?"

"Eventually, perhaps. There could be someone new to replace my old 'devotees'. Don't you know that the society needs scapegoats just as much as it needs heroes?"

"I don't like the idea of you as a scapegoat."

"And I still fail to understand why you, of all people, care."

"Haven't I already told you that I don't carry any grudges on you?" Harry reminded.

"Anyway, I still feel that I owe you. Is there anything I can do as gratitude?" Draco asked. He didn't want to be indebted.

"We could go somewhere to have some... tea... maybe."

"And that's it?" Draco raised his eyebrow in surprise.

"Yes. I suppose, it will do," Harry nodded.

"I could arrange it in my room then," the blond offered. It was much better idea than showing himself in some public place, and he also doubted that Harry Potter would be eager to show himself anywhere with Draco Malfoy.

"Great. Then... Could you wait for me for twenty minutes or so? I'll just take a shower and change."

"Go ahead, I'll wait here," Draco shrugged. Harry flew away and the blond was waiting for him. The Gryffindor returned twenty five minutes later, this time on foot, however. He was dressed in fresh clothes.

"I'm ready," he smiled.
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To Find The Missing Lifeline