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One That Stood Alone	By : tsubasagahoushi Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 1867 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: One That Stood Alone
Author: tsubasagahoushi
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, and maybe some more later on
Disclaimer: I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...
A/N: Thanks for the reviews tealc, chocs and ireth. I'm glad you guys seem to be enjoying it. Thanks muchos for the comments and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.
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"I am only going to ask you once more, Draco. What happened last night?" The blond Slytherin opened his mouth, brows furrowed in anger with his usually favorite professor. Snape cut him off before the boy could even get one word of protest out, "I mean everything."

"I told you already. I was sleeping- perfectly fine, mind you- when Potter came into the room out of nowhere. Being the Gryffindor Golden Boy that he is, it seemed he was concerned about my condition," Draco drawled out the last word, pulling on a crisp white uniform shirt and casually buttoning it up. "We talked, he sat down for a bit, and then he left. That's all." Draco pushed back his hair with one hand, facing the Potions professor for the first time since the interrogation.

"That is all?"

"Correct." Snape merely crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow smugly.

"Then why is it, young Malfoy, that you have pushed back your hair for the third time in the last ten minutes?" Draco remained quiet, lips in a thin line of aggravation. Cursed nervous habit. Cursed Snape for noticing it. But of course he wouldn't be a Slytherin if he hadn't picked up on the sign of weakness. He really should have heeded his father's training and burned the habit from his mind. "Would you like to revise your story?"

Draco glared at the older man and sat on the lush leather sofa in his rooms with an indignant plop. Crossing his legs in a move of casualty, the blond looked across the room at nothing, all the while his lips pursed in contemplation. He had been allowed to leave the infirmary that morning- well, not so much allowed as him getting up and simply walking out. He had hoped to avoid this conversation with his godfather, but knew it was coming the minute his wounds had miraculously healed themselves. Giving into the nervous habit, he ran his hand through his golden locks once more.

"I 'issed 'otter." His lips had barely moved and voice couldn't have been above a whisper.

"Come again, Draco?" Draco snapped at the sarcasm in the professor's voice. Standing abruptly, he fisted his hands at his sides.

"I bloody said I kissed Potter! We snogged each other silly, is that what you want to hear, Sev?! Well, we sodding did and the offending git just ran off without so much as an explanation. 'I'm sorry.'" His voice was a whiny impression of Harry's. "He had the nerve to apologize for it as though it never should have happened in the first place! Probably went running back to his Weasel and Mudblood spatting out the entire story in disgust." The last word was accentuated with a glass shattering against the wall. His shoulders were shaking in anger or some other raw emotion he didn't dare name. Snape merely regarded the shattered glass with momentary exasperation.

"I meant what could have possibly happened that broke the curse. I highly doubt Potter's kiss alone was enough to awaken the princess from his slumber." Draco glared at Snape for the snide comment, but couldn't help but feel a bit foolish. The entire situation had been lingering on his mind since Potter had run from the room some ten hours ago. He couldn't help but feel sore for it, especially since he shouldn't have allowed it to happen in the first place. Draco slumped back into the sofa, defeated.

"I don't know, Sev. Honestly. We just..." His mind replayed the events of the night and Draco suddenly felt as though he'd been run over by the Hogwarts' Express. "I drank his blood. Not so much drank, but licked it from my mouth, but still... it had to be at least three drops." Snape's brow was furrowed in confusion.

"How- no, forget it. I do not wish to know." The professor's face drained of all color and his mouth hung open just as he was about to speak once more. The wheels in Draco's mind were turning just as fast but he seemed to be missing a bolt or two. The Cruciatus had worn off because that was his father's doing. It was only meant to last for a certain amount of time, seeing as how the caster was not in direct contact with the victim. However, the crucial ingredient in the potion for the eternal bloodflow curse had eluded them. Draco had been taking the watered down version to slow the curse, but it could only be completely ended if a drop of blood from the caster was added. And that had been Lord Voldemort...

"I must speak with the Headmaster. Go about your way as usual, Malfoy, but stay away from Potter." Ice blue eyes clouded in confusion, Draco suddenly remembered the sensation of uplifted skin across Harry's chest.

"But, Sev, Harry had a cut- a scar I believe-" Snape darted across the room to loom over Draco, his shadow cloaking the blond in darkness.

"As I said, stay away from Potter. I say this for your personal well-being, Draco. Heed my words." Before he could protest or prod for answers, the door slammed behind Severus Snape, leaving Draco in his rooms with painful silence.

There was another crash of glass against the stone wall.

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Harry stared at the dancing flames of the fireplace. He would have been happy to merely stay in his bed all day, but after missing both breakfast and lunch it seemed his fellow Gryffindors felt something had to be done. So he sat in the common room listening to the idle chatter bounce from wall to wall. There were no Friday classes for seventh years; instead, it was designated as a study period. Meaning, of course, that none of the Gryffindors were doing such things aside from Hermione Granger. After a pathetic game of chess with Ron, the redhead had realized Harry wasn't in the mood, and left with an excuse that Hermione wanted to see him about their Potions assignment the other day. No doubt they were snogging; it seemed Ron still felt the need to fabricate some excuse for seeing his girlfriend other than the obvious.

His mind followed the inevitable path and all too soon Harry was reminded of smooth, porcelain skin and soft pink lips pressed against his own. Closing his eyes in memory, the image of the flames was burned into the back of his eyelids. It had been like fire; instantaneous and burning, yet oh, so destructive. Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his bed and wait for the end. He had been an absolute idiot. He had turned tail and ran, just because another one of his scars had been recognized.

"Dreaming of your Slytherin lover?" Harry's eyes shot open at the whispered voice only to see one Ginny Weasley smiling devilishly. She climbed over the back of the sofa, sitting directly next to him. Ginny's crush had long since passed, but now she seemed to have the sneaky teasing of the twins in her veins; and, somehow she was far worse than Fred and George because most of the time her teasing comments were directly on the mark.

"Shouldn't you be in class, Ginny love?" The redhead girl merely rolled her eyes and tsked.

"Really, Harry, is she that good? It's nearly time for dinner; classes are over." Harry shrugged his shoulders carelessly. Time wasn't really an issue when you were mentally thrashing yourself. Then thrashing yourself again for being so melodramatic to do so in the first place. It was a vicious psychological cycle. Just then Ron came striding into the common room, a silly grin on his face as though he had been told he would be playing for the Chudley Canons. Spotting Harry near the fireplace, the redhead practically skipped over, grinning like a loon the whole while.

"I take it studying went well," Harry stated, voice dripping with sarcasm. Usually Ron's face would turn a shade similar to his hair but instead the grin merely widened.

"You won't believe what I saw. There was commotion outside in the hall as I was leaving Hermione's rooms, and who else do I see than Malfoy at his door," Ron's voice had growled out the last bit, as though Malfoy had no right to be there despite the fact that he was Head Boy. Harry's mouth dropped slightly. So, Draco was alright then? Malfoy. Malfoy was out of the infirmary. "I was going to give him a good row, but Pansy Parkinson came out of his rooms crying." Ron was immersed in his storytelling now, but Harry's mind was tumbling over several ideas at once. Pansy Parkinson had been in Draco's rooms. She had been crying. What had she been doing there? Well, that was a stupid thought; she was a Slytherin and it seemed pretty obvious if the two were dating. An unrecognizable feeling whelmed in the pit of his stomach at the thought. Were they dating?

"That's not the best part. No, no, Harry, mate, you've got to hear this. After she left, there were tears in Malfoy's eyes!" Ron had fallen into the nearest chair, laughing at this point. "Tears in the sodding git's eyes! All dramatic-like!" Ron made several sobbing noises before tossing his head back dramatically, one hand across his face in distress. He didn't notice Harry's entire body tighten, but another Weasley did. Ginny raised an eyebrow, looking over at Harry curiously.

"Can you believe it? Malfoy was crying like a baby. Malfoy!" It was obvious that Ron's mind was morphing the event into more than it actually was, but the thought only sent him into another fit of laughter. Harry's brow creased and he felt sick. What could have possibly brought Malfoy near tears? Ron sat up, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. The laughs subsided and he noticed Harry's stern expression. "Harry, mate, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Since when has Malfoy been back?" The raven haired boy attempted at a casual pose but wanted nothing more than to run from the room. Something was wrong. Something had to be. Unless of course... if Pansy had broken up with him... but she had been crying... and it wasn't as though Malfoy was one to cry over mere relationship problems.

"He showed up to lunch. I heard he was sick or something. Wish he could've stayed that way. He probably was really just on some errand for his father and You-Know-Who. Harry, are you-"

"I have to be going. Professor Bla-" Harry choked on the words and the memories which they brought with them. "Luminos... I have to help him with the course schedule." Harry stood abruptly, leaving the common room without so much as a glance back at them. They would be leaving for dinner soon, but Harry wasn't the least bit hungry.

The portrait shut behind the boy, leaving one Weasley glaring at the other. When he felt his sister's heavy glare, Ron turned his gaze from the portrait to face her.

"What?"

"You're an idiot."

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"... and so I want you to dress in a pink tutu and dance atop the Gryffindor table tomorrow in order to strengthen your training."

"Yes, sir."

"Harry." Harry looked up from the desktop which he had memorized in the past half hour. He did not want to look at the professor unless he absolutely had to, and his mind was still trying to absorb what had happened with Malfoy. Not to mention why he should even care. Luminos was standing in front of him, his mahogany hair pulled back into a small ponytail at the base of his neck. "You're not even listening to me."

"I'm sorry, Professor-"

"Luminos, please."

"Luminos..." Harry had averted his eyes again. He couldn't help it. If he paid attention to the man in front of him he was instantly reminded of Sirius. He should be over it... it had been over a year ago. He should be able to forget. Suddenly he was met with deep blue eyes gazing into his own. Startled, Harry jerked backwards, slipping from his chair.

"Oh, oh! Don't want you falling." The professor grabbed Harry's cloak, pulling him back into the chair. He was bent over, one hand on the desk so that he could look the young man in the eye. Patting Harry's shoulder once, he hopped onto the opposite desk, his legs resting atop the one Harry sat at.

"I know it's got to be hard. If you want to talk about him-"

"NO." Harry's shout echoed throughout the empty classroom. Luminos' eyes widened slightly at the outcry. Harry's hands were fisted at his sides and his head turned away from the professor's view. Everyone was always asking how he was, wanting to know if he was over it yet, but they didn't want to really know what was going on. Harry had never been given the time to mourn because they all expected him to save the world no matter what. They said one thing, but their emotional masks said another. He was the only one who could defeat Voldemort- it was either him or the Dark Lord. There was no time for a distraught teenage boy in that equation.

Several minutes passed in silence before his hands slowly unclenched and shoulders slumped in defeat. "No, thank you. I'm fine." Harry looked back at Luminos, jaw clenched and firm. Now was not the time. He hadn't a choice in the matter. This was what he was born for, this was what he would die for. The same relentless determination that had gotten him through sixth year was in place. Luminos merely nodded.

"Well then, I think we've done enough talking. You're not going to learn anything if that's all we do, now will you?" Walking to the empty space at the front of the classroom for practice and dueling, the older man turned to face Harry with a smile on his face. "Why don't you show me the Patronus charm I've heard such wonderful tales of?"

Harry stood, shrugging his robes back over his shoulders. Taking his wand in one hand, he stood in the exact same spot he had when Lupin first instructed him in learning the Patronus. Closing his eyes, wand outstretched in front of him, Harry spoke the incantation in a monotone. There was a small pulse of power in his hand but not the usual surge of energy. Opening his eyes in confusion, he realized there was nothing there. The stag was nowhere to be seen.

"Expecto Patronum!" His voice was firm, yet laced with confusion. Again the same pulse, but not even a wisp of silver mist appeared from his wand.

"Harry-"

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry's eyes gleamed with confusion. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?! Then it dawned on him. Nothing. That was why. He felt absolutely nothing.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Harry's wand lowered as his arm slowly fell to his side. The usual warmth of his parents which fueled his Patronus was gone. He couldn't find it anymore. He was left alone, nothing but a vast emptiness filling his gut where the faint glimpse of a memory with a happy family once was. He couldn't conjure such a memory for everytime he tried there was nothing but death there. Death and, dear gods, apathetic anger towards his parents. They had left him here with this burden-he knew it was childish-but he couldn't help but feel a sort of tired anger towards them. So now he didn't even have the imagined memory of love. There was none left at all. Hands were suddenly on his shoulders and the choked sob escaped his lips without him even knowing.

"Harry, it's alright. You don't have to do the Patronus. You don't have to do anything." The soothing voice broke through his daze of confusion. Looking up slightly to see Luminos next to him, Harry finally felt a flicker of the way he should- like a boy. Just a boy. Luminos smiled weakly, his mouth curving in a familiar way. In an all too familiar way. Sirius had loved him. Sirius had died for him. And here he was, almost throwing away all of that to just give up. He couldn't do the Patronus anymore, but that didn't mean he could let himself fall apart either. Accepting the heavy weight which seemed to pull at his entire body, Harry tore from the loose embrace.

"No." His voice was low and rough. Clearing his throat, Harry ignored the coldness which seemed all too eager to replace the warm embrace. "No. I have to defeat Voldemort. I'm Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived." His voice was monotone once more and his back was to his professor.

"I don't have a choice." A heavy silence enveloped the empty classroom. An unusually solemn voice broke it, causing Harry to turn and face the one who spoke.

"Let's start with something else then." Luminos' eyes were hooded and his head held high. He appeared more stern and regal now, rather than the usual friendly jokester. Harry nodded, moving across from his professor on the dueling platform.

"Wand at the ready."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco glared at the Gryffindor table over his glass. Potter wasn't at dinner either. The prat seemed to be ignoring him as well. Not only did he do unexplainable things to him, but then he disappears from sight. Glaring at his food, it was obvious that Draco Malfoy was not in the best of moods and all of Slytherin table took notice. He sat alone, several seats around him vacant for fear of setting the blond off. Pansy hadn't shown up which wasn't surprising. He had only done so for image's sake and... well, alright, he admitted that he had hoped to catch Potter for a word. Or a good row. Really, it was one in the same with them.

"Are you going to eat that or torture it further? Because honestly, there are far more interesting things to torture if you're in such a mood." Draco placed his fork down perfectly on the napkin next to the appropriate utensil. It seemed his mother's strict proprieties took hold of his mind even at Hogwarts. Blaise sat across from him, loading his plate full of food.

"It's not as though you need it; you're already bloody eating everything that appears in your sight." Blaise shrugged, chewing on one dinner roll while reaching for another and beginning to butter it meticulously. Draco stared at his plate, the chatter of the hall washing over him in waves of pure noise.

"He'd want this. Afterall, he was always eating and now I have to eat in his honor." Blaise's voice was strangely serious for his words. A smirk managed its way onto the blond Slytherin's lips.

"Right then. You'll be needing this." He pushed his plate across the table to Blaise. The mood lightened and chatter became less menacing. Grimacing at Blaise's monstrous appetite and rapid method of appeasing said beast, Draco stood to take his leave.

"Wai' a min', Drake!" Choking on the food which seemed to have gotten in the way of his speech, Blaise hit his chest twice before downing a glass of water. Honestly, was he really a Slytherin? "Hogsmeade tomorrow? Three Broomsticks? We can give him a drink in honor as well." The meaning behind the suggestion was unspoken. And show everyone else that they were completely unaffected by the 'unfortunate event'. Draco merely nodded before elegantly striding from the Great Hall.

He was soon in the dungeons and making his way to the familiar classroom. Not even bothering to knock, Draco strode into the Potions Master's office. Snape didn't even look up from his desk where he was pouring over a text so ancient it seemed the pages were visibly rotting in front of his very eyes. Plopping into the chair set in front of the opposing desk, Draco crossed his arms and stared at the head of greasy black hair. Really, you would think he would have found something for that by now.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Snape didn't even look up from his reading, merely taking a few notes before turning the page. When there wasn't a reply, he inwardly sighed. This was not a good sign. He remembered the few times that the young blond had come to his office in a silent rage. Noting the page number, he gently closed the book before pushing it to the side and leaning forward onto the large desk, his hands folded in order to hide his aggravation.

The blond's arms were crossed, his chin high and eyes narrowed. Only the Potions professor knew the secret behind the upraised chin and sharp expression- Draco Malfoy was visibly upset and terribly afraid. Snape merely raised an eyebrow in question. He was going to give the boy ten seconds before he forfeited the silent game and began his tirade of angry questions.

Ten. Draco kept eye contact. Nine. He averted his gaze, glaring at the bookcase in the corner instead as though it had just insulted his family's name. Eight. His fingers clenched at the fine material of his cloak. Seven. He stood, making it as casual as possible. Six. The boy walked to a nearby bookcase, fingering the binders of several books. Five.

"What do you bloody think I'm here for?! Potter's blood is now somehow a substitute for Lord Voldemort himself, you tell me to ignore him, and you KNOW what happened to Crabbe!" With the last point, the blond whirled to face his godfather, his pale skin flushed with anger. Seemed he was a bit more upset than previously thought- had only made it to five seconds this time. Snape took a deep breath and unfolded his hands, lifting his head to meet Draco's gaze directly.

"Have you heard from your father?" The question brought the expected response. Draco's eyes filled with anger, disgust, and-despite himself-pain. He sank back into the chair, glaring at the same pitiful bookcase which had angered him before.

"I have. If you can count the short note threatening me to join Their cause by winter break, and that I was lucky to be well. It surely wouldn't happen next time." He spat out the last words, chest heaving in anger. They sat in silence for several minutes, allowing for Draco's temper to cool.

"I cannot explain why Potter's blood worked as a substitute for Voldemort's," The Dark Lord's name dripped off the professor's tongue like something rotten, and he lifted one hand to silence Draco's protests, "First off, my theories on the matter deal with events which are none of your concern. Those are only Potter's tales to tell. What Vincent Crabbe did was honorable," his lips pursed together in a sign of twisted approval. "He refused the Dark Mark in the end and was made an example for all of you who dared to go against the Dark Lord's wishes." The room was silent once more as Draco's jaw tightened against the words.

"And why should I ignore him?" Draco's composure had fully recovered, his voice its usual liquid drawl. He faced his godfather once more, hoping that this answer would not be like the rest- either something he already knew or nothing at all. The man had a most annoying way of explaining things without really giving away any information at all. He supposed it was from all the double agent work.

"Potter is inextricably attached to Voldemort. It is best that you avoid the man in whatever way possible to stall your initiation." Mercury collided with the darkest of blacks. There was more than that. Once again, Draco was given just enough to pique his interest only to be pushed away from the prize.

Standing, Draco made his way for the door. He paused, hand resting against the heavy wood. Without turning, he asked the one question he hoped Snape had an actual answer for. "And my father?"

"Do as you always have; be the Slytherin that you are." Draco did not reply, but merely pushed the door and left without so much as a glance back or another word. Meaning he would do as all those who wished to oppose the Dark Lord did; to everyone else he would appear as though he completely agreed with the others until he could find a way out for himself. Even if that meant at the expense of others.

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"One butterbeer, please, Madame Rosmerta." The woman looked up when she recognized the voice. Smiling the same half-genuine, half-hopeful smile that had been on her lips since last year when the war started, she bustled Harry off to an empty table telling him not to worry about his order. Harry sat alone, staring at the people passing by through the window. So it was, he was waiting at the Three Broomsticks for Hermione and Ron. He hadn't particularly wanted to go to Hogsmeade but wasn't really given a choice. His friends' faces had said it all- 'if you don't come then that means something is wrong, meaning we're going to have to continue to annoyingly ask you several times a day on your mental wellbeing.'

"Harry?" The light feminine voice caused him to pull his gaze from the window. Long, black hair spilled over her small shoulders and she still held the beauty which had once made her one of the most attractive and wanted girls at Hogwarts. "Harry! It is you. I didn't recognize you from the back."

"Trademark scar wasn't in view; without that and my glasses, I'm pretty much just another bloke." He had meant it to be light-hearted, but Cho Chang's lips curved in a frown and she looked away from him.

"Oh, Harry, I didn't mean that-"

"Neither did I. Can't I make a joke of myself?" He attempted a smile, but it was nothing close to his old one which used to brighten up the entire room. Cho smiled weakly and nodded, apologizing for being so serious all the time. The past year Harry had heard Cho was taking advanced training to become an Auror. She was supposed to go to a prestigious wizarding college but had decided against it considering the circumstances. Another person who changed their course of life because he was unable to do the one task his was created for.

"Well, I really should be off. I'm only on a lunch break and if I don't get back to my post then I'm sure someone is going to report me." She shook her head in annoyance before beaming down at him with her usual cheerfulness. "Oh, that's right! I came here to tell you I'm stationed for patrol at Hogsmeade. So if you would ever like to get a bite to eat, even just to talk..." Harry nodded, and the Chinese girl gave one last smile before darting off when her order was called.

"Here you are, lad." His eyes widened and he sat back as the largest mug of butterbeer he had ever seen was placed in front of him. Several plates of food began to fill the table until there was hardly any free space left. "You're so thin! Really now, I understand that Seekers need to be small for the season but it's unhealthy. Eat up! Eat up!" Before Harry could protest, the woman had bustled off and began taking orders from other customers. A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he took a large drink from the monstrous mug.

"Is this why you don't eat in the Great Hall? Is the food not good?" The wispy faraway voice calmed Harry for once, and he was glad to see Luna already sitting across from him.

"Apparently I'm not eating enough." Luna regarded him for several seconds, tilting her head at different angles as though inspecting a potential prize winner. She gave a small shake of her head in agreeance before reaching for one of the plates of food. Harry looked down at himself. Maybe he wasn't eating enough. Considering he wasn't quite sure when the last time he had eaten was, he supposed this was true. A defeated sigh escaped his lips and he reached for one of the small appetizers. Luna looked up at him at the sound.

"Do you think there are rabbits on the moon?" A real grin spread across Harry's lips. Beginning to eat his ten course meal, he started the long debate on the strange topic. Several plates later, Harry leaned back in his seat. If he ate anymore, he truly did believe he would die right here and now. Noticing Luna had a smudge of sauce on her face, he reached across the table casually to wipe it away with his napkin. He felt at ease with the strange girl and their behavior between one another was the most relaxed relationship he felt he had at the moment.

"Really, Potter, have you sunk so low the only one that will date you is Loony?" The familiar drawl caused his stomach to do a most uncomfortable impression of a pretzel being twisted. Luna regarded the fellow blond with wide eyes as she continued to munch on her dessert of pie.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Harry glared at the Slytherin only to find his face tinged pink and eyes sparkling with anger towards Luna.

"So you are dating then? Funny; I didn't think you had a thing for blondes." He spat the last word, taking a step closer to their table. They hadn't had many fights last year, both seeming to keep to themselves instead of hassling the other. Usually, Malfoy only fought with him in public places at school. Standing, Harry put himself between Draco and Luna.

"I should say the same for you." Harry's tone was angry and laced with something else which bordered on jealousy. Not that he admitted it to himself. His eyes darted to the blonde Slytherin girl across the room. Draco's face contorted into confusion before he followed the Gryffindor's gaze. "Honestly, crying over Parkinson. I had thought Malfoys were above mere human emotions."

"At least we have them in the first place. If my godfather were to fall into oblivion I would at least show some sort of remorse." The words drawled from the pale pink lips in confused anger. Harry clenched his fists at his sides.

"Shut it, Malfoy! You know nothing about Sirius!" At this point, the entire bar fell quiet. Seeing as how most of its occupants were Hogwarts students, the fight was something they had been waiting for since the beginning of term. It was another one of the standard events marking the new year- Malfoy and Potter's verbal and physical spars. Harry felt his control slipping away, clenching his hands tighter so that his nails dug into skin.

"Enough to know he was another bloody idiotic Gryffindor able to wear their emotions on their sleeves. Able to openly express any thought of dissention without the threat of immediate death!" Draco seemed to calm himself at this, his eyes darkening. "Afterall, he's probably better off dead."

There was a rushing sound in his ears like the ocean roaring on a beach. Launching himself at the blond, they both fell to the floor. Harry punched the offending mouth which dared to say Sirius' life was worthless. It was responded with a blow to his own face and his glasses went flying across the floor. Eyes clenched shut, he struck out again, happy to find his fist connect with familiar flesh.

Harry felt himself rolling and soon mercury eyes were mere centimeters away from his own. Draco's anger receded when he noticed the emerald shining with emotion. Emerald. Harry's eyes were the same determined spheres they had been back in fifth year. Pressing himself down into Potter, he felt something against his thigh which surely wasn't the boy's wand. Raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow, Draco pushed his hips forward pressing himself further into the boy beneath him. There was a flash in those emerald eyes and a hiss escaped Harry's lips. Whether it was anger or pleasure was for anyone to tell. Leaning in close enough for his breath to brush against the raven strands, Draco whispered a challenge only for him to hear. Suddenly hands were on his back, pulling him off of his prey.

"Get off Harry, you fucking Slytherin ferret!" Draco glared at the Weasel. Wrenching himself from his grasp, he took several steps away from the Golden blasted Trio. Hermione was bent near Harry, murmuring to him before glaring up at Malfoy. Making eye contact with Harry himself, Draco lifted his head in pride even though he knew his lip was torn and bleeding.

"Do you accept?" With Potter's glasses back on his face, Draco couldn't help but think he was somehow even more appealing when bruised and bloody. The raven haired boy merely nodded once before shrugging off Granger's help and standing on his own with some difficulty.

"Bloody hell, I take my eye off you for one minute and-" Blaise's rant was cut off when he noticed the battered boys and Gryffindor death glares.

"Let's go, Blaise. There's nothing of importance here." Their backs turned, they headed off to the other room where they had been drinking far more intoxicating beverages than the average butterbeer. However, they were soon stopped short by one particularly unforgivable comment.

"Can't fight without your goons, Malfoy? If anyone was better off dead, it'd be them." Draco whirled, wand outstretched and a hex on his lips when Potter stood between the two.

"Shut your mouth, Ron. You don't know what you're saying." Harry's shoulders slumped once more, as though the event had only now hit him and drained him of his energy. Turning to look at Draco, he continued in a low tone, "No one here deserves to die." They kept eye contact before Harry broke their gaze. Apologizing to Luna, he cast a meaningful look at Hermione. He wanted to be alone. She merely nodded once, leading a very stunned Ron to an empty table.

The autumn air was cold as it blew back his cloak from his body. Somehow he didn't register the coming winter in the air. Tomorrow night he was to meet Malfoy in his rooms. They would settle it once and for all, then and there. Harry just wasn't sure how he wished it to end.
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One That Stood Alone