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

Chapter List
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Disclaimers and Warnings: Both are located in chapter 1.

Author’s Notes: I know that you all must be disappointed that I didn’t have Draco make some grand move last chapter, but there’s still time. And I ask that you don’t kill me before I fix Harry and Draco’s relationship. It’s the stress! Thank you for the reviews, and thank you, Jokes, for being so awesome!

Chapter Twenty-Seven—A King With No Crown

“Granger, please tell me if he’s all right,” Draco wheedled. Evidently, telling him to go away had no effect, since the blond had been sitting at her favourite library table for the last thirty minutes, begging for information about Harry. “I need to know. He’s in that dorm room with Weasley and his cronies with only Neville to break it up.”

That got the witch’s attention, and she levelled cold, brown eyes on the annoying Slytherin. “Don’t you trust Neville to watch Harry’s back? I find it difficult to believe that he’d let anything happen to his friend, considering the way that Neville has stuck to Harry’s side since the beginning of the year. I’m surprised that he even allowed you anywhere near Harry.”

Her words were almost as effective as the punch she’d given him in third year. His normally pale face went even whiter and he moved back. “Harry won’t answer any of my letters and Neville has refused to relay messages for me,” Draco whispered. “I’m not asking you to betray his trust, Granger. I just want to know if he’s doing okay.”

Hermione debated ignoring him and going back to her research into the Philosopher’s Stone, something that she had picked up again after speaking with Harry for a few hours the night before. It felt strange to be going over something she’d done back when they were first years, but at least this time she had the added benefit of some of Mr Flamel’s personal notes from his own time working on the Stone. However, the stricken look in his grey eyes made her reconsider. “Malfoy, I’ll be honest with you,” she said. “And I’m only telling you this at all because I want you to stop looking at me like a kicked Crup puppy. Harry’s not really moved much out of his bed since he came back from your rooms Friday afternoon. He will talk to anyone who climbs into his bed with him, but he won’t leave and none of us have been able to get him to eat, let alone shower.”

“That means it’s been nearly forty-eight hours then,” he breathed. If it was possible, he looked even more upset.

“Yes, Malfoy, it has been, and I didn’t think I’d ever see my best friend so upset over some stupid thing you said, but there it is,” she said, shutting the book in her hands and standing up. “Now, if you don’t mind—and even if you do—I have research to do and you are keeping me from it. If you want my opinion, you should apologize to him.”

With that, she turned on her heel and breezed out of the library. She’d continue her reading in her dorm room. It was bound to be quieter and Malfoy-free.

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

Draco watched as Granger dismissed him so eloquently, her words still ringing in his head. Why should I be the one to apologize to him? He wants to put my mother and the baby into a house that isn’t fit for wild manticorns. He should have known that I would never agree to that. He stood and frowned. However, he was right when he said that he’s under a lot of pressure over everything and this little feud with Weasley has got to be adding to it. I don’t suppose that my picking a fight helped anything.

He sighed as he headed for the doors of the library and continued in the direction of his mother’s suite of rooms. After speaking with her, he’d know how to proceed. He stopped as he was forced to wait for the staircase between the fourth and third floors to swing back around, his mind buzzing with how he was going to phrase the situation with his mother.

Just as the stairs rumbled into place and Draco moved forward to go down, he ran into someone who yelled as they slid down the staircase. The blond raced forward to help whoever it was but paused as he noticed the violently red hair and freckles. Bloody hell, as if my weekend hasn’t sucked enough already, I had to run into the Weasel as well?

Draco’s hand flew to his wand to cast a Levitation Charm on the obnoxious Gryffindor, but someone else beat him to it with a shout of “Wingardium Leviosa!”

It was then that he noticed the Weasley twins at the bottom of the stairs. They were looking at him with identical amused expressions, as the shocked Ronald’s eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out. “You know, Malfoy—” the one who cast the spell started.

“—we know that ickle Ronniekins has been a bit of a prat—” the other added.

“—but did you really have to push him down the stairs?”

“We don’t want him dead, you know.”

“He can’t suffer if he’s not alive.”

“Well, that, and he’s still our brother.”

“For now, he is,” the first said with a mischievous smirk.

Closing his mouth, Draco drew up this full height of 185 centimetres and scowled at the identical men. “If I wanted Weasley dead, I would not push him down the stairs in public,” he drawled spitefully.

“Oh, we know,” the first said.

“We just thought we’d take the piss a bit,” the second responded with a smirk that irked Draco like nothing else.

The first twin turned this other half. “George, why don’t you take Ronnie there back to the tower? I’d like to talk to Malfoy a bit.”

“Of course, Fred,” the second agreed, picking up the unconscious Weasel with a whispered Mobilicorpus and trotted off.

“Malfoy, I know that before this year we haven’t exactly been great friends, and George and I might have helped Harry manhandle you a time or two, but I was hoping that we could be grownups about all that and leave it in the past,” Fred Weasley said, slinging a heavy arm around Draco’s shoulders as if they were old chums—despite the little speech he’d just given. “See, I’d like to talk to you about Harry.”

Draco bristled at the redhead’s familiar treatment, but gave a great sigh when he realised that being a brat to the twin would only make the situation with Harry worse. “Of course,” he replied levelly. “I was going to go talk to—”

“Your mum?” the redhead asked quietly, walking with Draco to a quiet corner and checking around before putting up a Privacy charm. “Yeah, as members of the Order, we know that your mum is here under Dumbledore’s protection.”

“Does your brother know?” Draco asked, the ice cold grip of fear lodging in his chest as he began calculating ways to permanently shut the Weasel up before he got his mother and sibling murdered by Death Eaters or those stupid people who thought that the Malfoys should all be hanged together.

“No, Mum and Dad thought it best that he doesn’t know anything about your mum. Hell, Percy, the great twat, doesn’t know either for the same exact reason,” Fred Weasley answered sadly. “I know that our families haven’t exactly gotten on for a few generations, but since you and Harry are…dating, I was hoping that we could bury that hatchet in an unmarked grave.”

Draco felt his lips twitch into a wry smile at the Muggle expression. “If I can be friendly with Ginevra, then it is no hardship to be polite with you and your twin.”

“Now, see, I was hoping that you’d say something like that. It makes everything easier.” Fred Weasley nodded sagely before he reached out sharply and grabbed Draco by the front of his robes. Draco was surprised to find that the tips of his shoes were scrapping at the stone floor as the taller man held him there with a jovial expression on his face. “See, here’s the deal, Malfoy—Draco. I like you. You’re a decent bloke when you’re not trying to strut around like a prat. You’re rather smart, most of the time, and you’re devious enough to keep things interesting for Harry and Hermione.” The redhead’s eyes hardened as he leaned in close, his face turning stony. “Harry is like a brother to me—George too, of course—and you’ve upset him greatly.

“Now, I’m a reasonable man. You apologise to Harry, and you get to keep your pretty face intact. Keep making him miserable, and I’ll rearrange your guts until they’re your brains. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly,” Draco responded, stuck between wanting to lash out at the former Gryffindor and feeling grateful that his lover was so well protected and loved by those around him. “Weasley—Fred, I want to apologise to him, but he’s refusing to see me or accept any post.”

“You let George and me handle that. You find a time and place where you two can talk, and we’ll make sure that Harry shows up, without his entourage.” Fred released Draco’s robes and his face went back to the mischievous grin that the blond was used to seeing. “It’s always nice doing business with you, Draco. I’m just glad we’re on the same side this time.”

“You and me both,” Draco muttered good-naturedly. “Now, I can assume that you and your twin will be staying here for a while?”

“Yes, we’re here to keep an eye on our stupid brother. Seems that when he’s left on his own, he gets these delusions of grandeur and Gin’s told us he needs to be taken down a peg or five.”

“I shall send a note to you when I have an appropriate location and time.”

“Do you still have that same screech owl then?” Fred asked, his blue eyes spelling trouble.

Draco gritted his teeth. As if a Malfoy would have some as common as a screech owl, he thought viciously before remembering how easily Fred had picked him up. “Tiberius is an eagle owl, Weasley. Do try to keep up.”

“Merlin, Draco, even your owl’s name is poncy.” The other man shook his head in mock sadness. “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye out for your precious emperor.”

“See that you do,” Draco said before sticking out his hand for the redhead to shake. Fred did not disappoint. I suppose I could do worse than being friends with the Weasley twins.

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

Narcissa glanced up from her correspondence with Andromeda as her son entered her room. “Hello, my love,” she said, taking a careful look at her elder child. “You are looking better. Have you spoken with Mr Potter then?”

“How did you know?” he asked as he sat down across from her.

“Draco, I am your mother. You cannot keep something like a fight with your…lover…from me. While you may show a stoic expression to the others, I saw right away on Friday that you were upset. Besides, you and he have not been to see me together since Thursday evening. It does not take a mind reader to know what has happened.”

She watched as her son grimaced, his grey eyes so like his father’s criss-crossing back and forth as he thought things over before closing and his face going blank. His face is so much more expressive than Lucius’s. It will be good for Amarys to be raised with someone like him as her male role model, even with Harry Potter as a lover. She will be a real human and not some facsimile.

“Have you spoken with Andromeda Tonks about where you will go?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Yes, Draco, your aunt and I have been talking this weekend through post. Your Mr Potter and Headmaster Dumbledore think it is best if your sister and I go to stay with Andromeda and her husband at the Black house in London until things are…calmer. I understand that Molly Weasley and Andromeda have been spending time making the house…presentable and that Kreacher—vile creature that he is—has been behaving with your aunt in residence.” Narcissa could not help but smile as she remembered just how formidable her older sister could be.

“Mother, do you think it is wise to stay with Aunt Andromeda and her husband Theodore?” he asked earnestly, leaning forward to take her hand in one of his own warm, slightly calloused hands.

He is so much more like me than his father. How have I not noticed it all this time? With a sigh, she answered him. “Draco, darling, I understand that you are worried about your sister and I, but I can assure you that Andromeda—though disowned—is a Black witch through and through. She will make sure that we are as protected as she would her own daughter, Nymphadora, or Theodore. That fierceness can be extended to you if you wished.”

“How is it so easy for you two to reconcile after so long?” he whispered.

“Because, despite the fact that we haven’t spoken since her wedding, I have never forgotten that I have two sisters, and only one of them is sane. Andromeda and I were very close as children, as we were united against Bella’s tyranny.” She gave her son a fond smile as she rubbed gently at her protruding stomach. “Luckily, I doubt that Amarys will have to deal with such a sibling.”

“You have said that three times I am having a sister. You’re sure then?”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey has confirmed it at our last appointment, and I have Seen myself with a beautiful blonde little girl and an unhappy brunet boy. I believe that that will be Bella’s child.”

Draco stiffened at the mention of her ability. Lucius had never been comfortable when she’d gotten flashes of insight either, but he’d never failed to listen to her, until the Dark Lord’s rebirth. “Have you told Dumbledore then?”

“Yes, my love,” she said, deciding to ignore his cool tone. “Now, do tell me that you plan on speaking with Mr Potter before things get any more difficult. I have seen the way he looks at you. It is more than the silly puppy-love that I thought it was at first.”

He pinned her with nearly silver eyes, seeming almost fevered with their bright sheen. “Have you Seen anything about us?”

Yes, Draco, you and Harry Potter will be beautiful in raising your cousin, but you need not know that now. “Some things, my son, are better left to the future. Now, where are you going to speak with him?”

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

Harry woke up from his fitful sleep when his bed was drenched with cold water. He sat up, spluttering and looking around for the perpetrator of his soaking. He was greeted with matching grins as Fred and George stood guard around Ron’s bed. “Hi, Harry,” they chorused.

“I should have known,” Harry said around a grin. The expression seemed a little odd on his face after the last two days of self-pity and depression, but it was difficult to be sad around the twins. “What brings you two back to Hogwarts? I thought after your spectacular escape from Umbridge that you’d never return.”

“Desperate times, Harry, old boy,” George—Harry was sure it was George because of a scar that cut through his left eyebrow—said morosely.

“Yeah, Mum and Dad have sent us here to keep ickle Ronniekins in line for the time being,” Fred added, his tone just as grave.

“Why would Molly and Arthur do that to him?” Harry asked.

“Well, since he’s practically turned you and Malfoy over to the Dark as prime targets, it was about time that he was punished, truthfully,” Fred replied, exchanging an unreadable look with his twin.

“Mum and Dad had to think about what it was they really wanted to do to him.”

“Yeah, Charlie and Bill got their say as older brothers—” Fred started.

“—but this is more to our liking,” George finished.

“I still don’t know what this is,” Harry said, casting a Drying Charm on his sheets and clothes. He wrinkled the nose as he caught the scent of his unwashed body, but then his fight with Draco flashed through his mind and he suddenly didn’t care anymore. He threw himself back onto his mattress and curled around his pillow pathetically. “Ron’s been a prat all year. I don’t really care about his punishment anymore.”

“That’s too bad,” one twin said—Harry couldn’t tell which one since he’d closed his eyes. “Ron’s only hasn’t been expelled because this is the safest place for him right now during the war and he can’t stay at the Burrow, since we’ve all gone underground.”

“Yeah,” the other said with mock sadness. “Yet, he’s proven that he can’t be trusted on his own, so we’re here to keep him in line and his little friends under control.”

“There’s nothing like the threat of being used for experimental test subjects to keep your year mates from being idiots.”

Harry felt his lips twisting up into a smile against his will. Leave it to the twins to cheer someone up even without trying, he thought warmly. “I guess that would be enough to cow most of them, but where’s Neville?”

“Mr Longbottom is off helping Hermione do some mysterious research,” Fred said, coming to sit down on Harry’s bed next to him. “When we arrived with Ron, he was only too happy to leave you in our capable hands.”

“Well, that and he and Hermione were exchanging these looks that were best left for somewhere a little more private than the common room,” George said as he opened the curtains to Ron’s bed to show their younger brother unconscious.

“Oh, very true, my dear brother,” Fred replied, tapping his wand against Harry’s knee. “Now, I have some news for you.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, taking some interest in what the twins could tell him.

“We had the great fortune of running into Draco Malfoy—”

“—well, it was really Ron who did the running, but you know how that is—“

“—and he’s just as miserable as you are. He wants to talk to you tonight after dinner. He says the usual place.”

Hope, bright and blinding, flared in Harry’s chest for the first time since Friday afternoon. He sat up and whispered “Tempus” under his breath. He saw that it was an hour before dinner. That was just enough time to have a long shower and put on a clean set of robes. He sniffed himself and grimaced. Yeah, he definitely needed it. “Thanks, you guys,” he said as he ran into the attached bathroom, feeling infinitely lighter than he had before.

TBC

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The End Shall Come, And We Will Dance Forever