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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
5. Now you know

   Most days off, Harry spent with Ron and Hermione. He often invited Draco for a walk with them, but the blond always refused. He wasn't really jealous of Harry, and never complained about him spending time with them. But he would never think of himself as a part of their company. It would be simply awkward and, most definitely, not only for him. This Sunday wasn't an exception, but Harry promised to come to him after the walk.

"You look upset. What happened?" Harry asked after entering the room. Knowing of Draco's facial expressions made him conclude that something was wrong, even if it wasn't obvious.

"Oh... It's nothing. I just fell into a doze and saw a dream about Lucius. I haven't got used to see any dreams lately because of the potions, so... It was frustrating. I hate it, Harry," Draco sighed.

"I see... For years I had terrible nightmares, aside from the things I saw through Voldemort's eyes. Strangely, my dreams have got better after war's end. I thought they would haunt me till the rest of my life. I mean people who died..." Harry said slowly.

"Lucius is dead, fortunately, but all the things he did... It just doesn't let me go. I'm not sure I'll be able to live in the Manor when the Ministry unseals it. I used to love our home, until Lucius let the maniac in there. Harry, he welcomed the mad psychopath to the house where his wife and son lived. It disgusts me to even think about it. He allowed him to torture and kill people in our rooms. I thought I'd lose my mind... You have no idea how much I wanted to run away. Just anywhere. I knew I'd join those tortured people someday, I knew it... And then he... killed my mother just to hurt me. I'm not sure I will ever be able to overcome it. I know I deserved it, so I have no right to complain..." Draco was nervous and upset and his voice was trembling.

"No... No, Draco. No one deserves to be betrayed by their own father like that. You did nothing to deserve any of that. But it's over and you survived. You have to try to leave it behind."

"You have no idea how many times I've told the same thing to myself."

     Draco convulsed uncontrollably, his face contorted at the memory of tortured people in his own manor. For what had they died? Some for the 'useful' information (for example, they'd been tortured until they'd given away the places where mudbloods had been hiding, to find them and perpetrate another unthinkable massacre). Many others had died just for the psychopath's entertainment. Draco's manor, his home... The very walls along with every single object had been saturated with Voldemort's taint. It had been in the air, making Draco learn the real fear of the dark when he'd been alone in his rooms, the fear of walking through the corridors of his own home. That had been making him paranoid to no end, twitchy. He'd been feeling ill as if he'd been slowly dying from some disease or slowly losing his mind; maybe both. It had led him to the nervous exhaustion. Had he been so weak and pathetic or it was normal for a human mind to break under such circumstances? And it had happened after his sixth year at Hogwarts, when he'd thought that it couldn't have been any worse. It obviously could. It had left its imprint on his very being. Harry, when he'd offered him friendship, had told him that he, Draco, hadn't belonged there. Harry had seen it when he'd been captured. Draco had been a stranger among the others. He and his mother...

     Sometimes he still couldn't believe that Lucius had done all that to him. To his own son. To his very loyal son, who had never allowed anyone to cast a scowling glance at his father, let alone say a disrespectful word about him! He'd always wanted his father to be proud of him, to earn his love he'd never really felt. He'd even broken Harry's nose once, blaming him for Lucius' imprisonment. He'd respected him, admired him, even if he'd always been a little afraid of him. And Lucius had betrayed him without batting an eyelid, as if Draco hadn't been his. Draco had never thought that he'd been that unloved and expendable.

"You're a wonderful person, better than anyone could have imagined. You're unique, and you mean so much to me," the Gryffindor said softly. To Draco's surprise Harry took his hand in his and squeezed it supportively. The gesture was heart-warming and very required. It was somehow purifying. And... It was a touch. Draco could hardly remember when was the last time another human being touched him, especially with such confident support. Well, there had been a handshake before, but now it felt even more special. It felt breathtaking.

"I think you need to unbend and let off some steam," Harry smiled.

"What do you suggest?"

"A duel."

"This would be great; however, I have no wish for getting into another trouble with the Ministry."

"I'll take the whole responsibility for this," Harry promised. He could see that Draco was interested. "Oh, come on. They can't forbid you to train. I see you definitely want to have some fun."

"Very well, I accept your challenge," the blond finally smiled.

     For the lack of space, the duels on the platform sometimes ended too soon, so they'd chosen a Room Of Requirement instead. It looked like a remarkable big round hall of the abandoned ancient castle with columns and statues of the gargoyles near the walls. The walls and the columns were partly overgrown with plants that twined about it. The hall had a lot of free space for manoeuvre.

"Impressive... Well, I'm at your service," Draco bowed when they took their positions.

"Scared, Malfoy?" Harry grinned, remembering their duel years ago.

"You wish," the blond frowned, but was nearly laughing.

     At first Harry was afraid to exhaust Draco and was concerned about his health, but Draco strived with passion, pushing himself to the limit. It had been a long since he felt so free. They had breaks, however, to catch their breath. Harry was impressed by the Slytherin's ability to dodge spells. He looked so lithe, when he was dodging and whirling about the hall, that Harry couldn't stop admiring. It was a beautiful fight. Harry couldn't help, but compare it with some passionate dance. It was more an art than just a fight. Nevertheless, they were careful enough not to harm each other badly. And Draco was impressed by Harry's skills, power and the green fire in his eyes. He wondered how many enemies had faltered under the powerful look of these eyes. The Gryffindor was making him scamper around a lot! And he made the Slytherin move especially fast when he turned three cobras, summoned by Draco, against Draco himself. However, Harry was a poor Occlumens, so Draco used Legilimency during the fight to divine some of his intentions (though he used it very carefully, on the very surface of Harry's mind not to make him feel any headaches afterwards) and prevented a lot of spells. He was still a Slytherin and had a lot of tricks in stock, so he could dare to withstand even the Saviour, who was more straightforward.

     Once again Harry was grateful that Draco wasn't afraid of him because of his name. He hated the awed eyes of the people that he duelled during the DADA lessons; they couldn't simply take the fact that he was a human, not a god, and they were ready to lose beforehand, as a result; they never thought it was worth trying their best. So he enjoyed Draco's persistence greatly.

     Right after they had returned to Draco's room and the blond had gone to take a bath, Harry wrote a letter to the Ministry, so Draco wouldn't have any troubles. At least, there were the advantages of being a Saviour that were quite useful.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked when his friend returned from the bathroom.

"I'm perfectly fine," Draco smiled. He held back the fact that he had taken a potion to soothe his aching heart and literally burning lungs, while he'd been in the bathroom, knowing for sure that Harry would have blamed himself for this. Harry suspected nothing, seeing the blonde's eyes full of life and excitement after their duelling. The Gryffindor smiled back happily.

"You have such an impressive style of fighting," he admitted, drying his hair after using the bath as well.

"I could say the same about you," the blond returned the compliment.

"Mind telling me about the shield you used couple of times?"

"Which one?"

"The one that was creating a dim purplish-grey light in front of you."

"Ah, that one... Well, I found it in an ancient book and Severus helped me to learn to use it properly. It can be referred to the Dark Arts. Almost. You sacrifice a small amount of your own blood, but you don't really feel it. There are no wounds or cuts. It protects the caster for, at least, two minutes and they can attack while protected," Draco explained.

"But it's not wandless, is it?"

"It is not. You cast it, using your wand, pointing it on the ground in front of you, but then you keep it sustained with your free hand and attack with your wand or even cast some other kind of a shield above this one."

"Tell me more about it," Harry asked.

"You see, it's very powerful against many spells, except the Unforgivables and a very few others, but it takes a very good concentration from the caster. If you were careful enough, you could have seen the pulsation of it, because it's attached to the caster's heartbeat. It becomes lighter with a beat of a heart and dims between the caster's heartbeats. You can break through it with powerful or even not very powerful spell if you choose the right time for a hit when the light is the dimmest. Thereby, you hit right in the middle of the pause between the heartbeats and the shield breaks. So there's still a chance of being hit accidentally. It can be strengthened, however, and it lasts longer, but, in this case, the caster must stop attacking and concentrate only on their defence. It takes more blood, more power and more concentration. I also prefer this one, because it protects from the physical attacks, too. Most magical shields, even the strongest ones, protect the caster only from the magical attacks. But then again, this one isn't easy to master and it's not perfect, just like all the other shields. Almost every time I cast it, I'm a little worried that it won't work at all."

"What about your spell-reflector? I've seen the similar ones, but I've never seen the one you used. If I'm not mistaken, the incantation was 'cautus reflexus' or something like that."

"It's not that hard, but it takes a good reaction. You cast the spell, making this move with your wand," Draco showed the move. "At the same time, you take a small step back. And when the opponent's spell hits the shield, you push forward on your opponent right away, against the resistance, not just with your arm, but with your entire body. The more powerful your lunge, the better. If everything was done right and in the right moment, not only it's going to reflect the spell, but it will also make it more powerful. I can teach you if you're interested."

"That would be very nice of you. I still train the other students in the Duelling Club sometimes. Would you like to join us?" Harry offered.

"I'm afraid, not. But I could teach you whatever you find interesting, and you could show it to the others. I could learn a lot of things from you, too. After all, I've lost more than a half of the rounds against you," the blond smiled.

"All right. But the score stood at six to five; I call it a draw," Harry grinned.

"I can't help, but feel curious... I suspect that you yielded to me, at least, once. At the very least." The blond crossed the arms on his chest, looking at his friend searchingly.

"It's not true," the Gryffindor frowned.

"All right." 'Liar...'

"If you'll ever change your mind about the Duelling Club, you'll be welcomed, I promise."

"Thank you," Draco nodded.

     They were drinking tea and talking about spells and duels. Both of them had something to share. Draco was again fascinated with Harry's attentive green eyes. They reminded him of a forest late spring, and this metaphor was incredibly refreshing. They were watching his every move when he was talking. Yes, Harry was watching Draco's chiselled features and listened to him with delight.

     They asked the elf to bring them dinner into the room, since neither of them really wanted to have it in the Great Hall. They felt too comfortable with each other.

"Bon appétit," Draco smiled.

"Same to you," Harry replied, looking very hungry.

"Don't forget, we have a lot of homework to do for tomorrow," the blond reminded.

"I've been hearing these words all day. You sound like Hermione," the Gryffindor sighed.

"Should I regard it as an insult?" Draco chuckled.

"All right, you sound much better," the brunet grinned.

     It was a little more than two months of their friendship and they'd begun to feel more at ease with each other. They'd started to talk about their past. Harry told Draco most things about his fight against Voldemort, about what had been happening at school and during the year that had had to be their seventh, about his adventures, about his pain. The Wizarding World already knew maybe a half of that, but Harry's story was much more than that. Draco told him his in return. All of it was too hard for them, but sharing something like that seemed to make them even closer. Their interactions were like a second life for both of them and it was very personal. Of course, Hermione and Ron had noticed the changes in Harry long ago, the way he was exchanging words with Draco between their lessons and that he often spent his time somewhere without telling them. When Harry was bluntly asked if he was friends with Draco, he answered in the affirmative. Ron just shrugged; he didn't really care, completely sure that Harry wasn't a naive child and knew who he could trust. But Hermione was making a fuss over it, insisting that Malfoy was using him. Harry firmly gave her to understand that it was his own business, without giving her any explanations or excuses. She just had to accept the fact. They never discussed it after that.

     Draco couldn't really understand what exactly he was feeling towards Harry, however, he knew that his feelings had already crossed the line of just friendship. He was very responsive to Harry's mood and detected the slightest changes. He wasn't sure if that was some sixth sense or just his keenness of observation. Most likely, it was the latter, and that made him believe that he was examining Harry's handsome face far too often and too attentively, and listening to him equally avidly. At first he'd thought that it all was due to his lack of the intercourse, since he had no other friends, but now he was sure it was something else.

     Harry had begun to notice the changes in Draco's demeanour that he'd never noticed before. The grey eyes were smiling at him often; sometimes he saw the blond shying away, hardly noticeably, when Harry was too close. His smiles slightly changed. The Gryffindor wondered if Draco himself realised all of it. Those small details could be called... seductive. 'No, that's nonsense. I only try to pass the desirable for reality. I just stare at him all the time and he's probably confused about it. Does he feel that I'm attracted to him? Or he's just so alluring that I'm losing my head and see things that he doesn't imply?' Harry asked himself, very confused. Lately he longed to go to Draco even more frequently than ever before and he was always welcomed.

      The first thing that met Harry was a strong smell of herbs. Draco let him in with a smile and they went to the bathroom. There were four cauldrons on the floor. Two of them were simmering and the other two were empty, but supposedly prepared for the brewing. There also were some empty and clean vials and jars, dozens of ingredients in vials, jars and boxes; ladles, stirring sticks, measuring spoons, measuring glasses, a mortar with a pestle, a knife and a board for chopping, an alembic made of glass and other equipment for the potion-making. But even all these things were in order; there was no chaos in the bathroom.

"And I intended to lure you out of your room to go for a walk," Harry sighed.

"Sorry. I thought you weren't going to come here today, so I asked Severus to give me something to do. You know, he's brewing a lot of things for Pomfrey's stocks, and I've taken some part of his work. For some points, of course." Draco rolled his eyes in the end and smiled innocently. Harry chuckled.

"Go on then, brew. I'll keep you company or help you if I can," he offered, sitting down on the floor.

"I wish I had a better place for brewing. You could bring yourself a chair."

"No, I'm quite comfortable here on the floor. And what exactly are you brewing?"

"Right now I'm starting to make a very good salve for treating any kind of burns, even those caused by magic."

"And what's in this cauldron?"

"A bone-mending potion. It's almost ready. Takes eight hours of brewing,"

"Does it taste as foul as Skele-gro?" Harry wrinkled his nose.

"I haven't tasted Skele-gro, but this potion tastes awful."

"I'm sure it does," Harry smiled. "And what about this one?" He pointed at the bigger cauldron.

"There are some allergic students that suffer in Herbology. Pomfrey gives them this potion, at least, once in two weeks or, perhaps, even more often to some of them. Almost ready, too."

"I see. So, how can I help?"

"The salve... Would you be so kind as to pass me the leaves of round-leaved sundew? Oh, it signed as 'Drosera rotundifolia leaves'."

"Isn't it the plant that feeds on insects?"

"Yes, it's carnivorous."

"Here." Harry passed him a jar. His fingers accidentally grazed Draco's hand gently and the blond nearly dropped the jar.

"Thanks. I also need some Pulmonaria juice," he said imperturbably, but his eyes avoided the look of the green ones, confusing Harry.

"Anything else?"

"Yes, a lot of things, actually. Hippophae oil; it's probably signed as 'Sea-buckthorn oil'. Pegasus' hair, Hippocampus' hair, beeswax, seeds of the silver epilobium; it's right in front of you. And, please, look for a jar with the light-beige powder, signed as 'Powdered Haliotis shells'."

"Is that all?"

"Yes. Everything else I have here at my elbow."

"And you're making this all day long?"

"Since nine in the morning. Like I said, I had nothing else to do and you know that I enjoy brewing. It's good to develop my capabilities. I have to practice," the blond shrugged.

"It's a pleasure for you, but for me it would be like a self-inflicted detention," Harry chuckled. His smile was contagious.

     During the next two hours he was watching Draco's elegant hands and thin, pale forearms as the sleeves of the Slytherin's bright-white shirt were rolled up. He was preoccupied with brewing. All Harry had to do (and really wanted to do) was reach out and slowly pass his hand from the blonde's elbow to his fingertips...

"Interesting." He started to talk to get rid of the embarrassing thoughts.

"What?"

"This salve requires the hair of two magical horses."

Draco chuckled: "Guess, where I got Pegasus' hair."

"Um... I don't know."

"Think," Draco shrugged with a smirk on his face.

"Oh my god... The Tri-wizard Tournament!" the Gryffindor exclaimed.

"That's right."

Harry gasped: "You cut the manes of... Gods, Draco. How did you do that?"

"Several nights I sneaked to the winged horses and fed them with apples. They enjoyed it greatly and ate right from my hands. They even started to wait for me every night, allowed me to touch them, even their wings. Normally those creatures don't like it when someone touches their wings. And finally I carefully cut the manes of four of them. I know it sounds barbaric, but it wasn't as terrible as it sounds. They didn't mind at all, believe it or not. I also picked their feathers off the ground. I brought all of it to Severus. He reproached me at first, but still took it. I cut enough hair so we still have some. Madame Olympe Maxime nearly had a heart attack."

"I'm sure she nearly killed Hagrid for failing to keep an eye on them. And you bribed them with apples! Draco..." Harry tisked and chuckled, shaking his head.

"I know, I know. But you should know that the winged horses are very intelligent creatures and they wouldn't allow me to take anything from them if they weren't ready to give it willingly. It was just a deal and everyone was satisfied with the conditions. I sneaked to them afterwards and brought them more apples. I even missed them when they left Hogwarts," the blond confessed.

"I'm sure they missed you too." Harry imagined the picture of Draco playing with the white winged horses, feeding them and talking to them. The pictures in his mind were fascinating. "What about Hippocampuses?"

"I don't know. I suppose Severus just buys their hair. It's quite an expensive ingredient, as far as I know."

     Soon the reddish salve was prepared.

"What now?" Harry asked.

"A potion to subdue a fever. Not very hard to brew, but some ingredients have to be brewed separately before adding them."

     When everything was ready, they filled jars with salve, bottled the potions in clean and empty vials, corked them up and signed the labels.

"Well, I hope I haven't ruined your day," Draco smiled.

"Not at all. On the contrary, I had a good time," Harry admitted.

"You have my gratitude." The blond inclined his head in a polite manner.

"But I haven't done anything really useful."

"I enjoyed your company."

"I... wanted to ask what you are planning for Christmas or... Winter Solstice? It's only in a week and a half," Harry reminded.

"Nothing, I guess. I'll stay at school with Severus. What about you?"

"I'm going to Weasleys. Would you like to join? Ron wouldn't mind, that's for sure," the Gryffindor assured, but he already knew the answer.

"Umm... Would you be offended if I refused? I'd be very glad to spend the holidays with you, but I wouldn't be a good company for the others."

"You're impossible," Harry sighed. "All right, I'll spend several days at Weasleys and then I'll return to school to spend the rest of the holidays with you."

"Good compromise," Draco smiled.

     There were five days left before the holidays. Draco found out that he'd got ahead of Granger this semester and so he'd become the best student. It had already happened twice during their school years, but the last word was always by Hermione. This year it wasn't something Draco had really strived for, but it was pleasant news. McGonagall announced it in the Great Hall after breakfast. Granger had taken the second place to her dismay.

"My congratulations, Draco. I haven't expected less from you," Snape said, walking past him. He was proud, even if he was outwardly restrained as usually.

"Thank you, Severus," the boy smiled, turning his face to him. He also didn't miss a smile he received from Harry.

     Later in the corridor before the lesson, the time itself stopped for Harry and all the people just stopped existing for a few moments; it was just Draco and him. It seemed Draco had felt Harry's eyes on him; he turned his face to him and looked back with a small, surprised smile, wondering what made Harry look at him with such tenderness and silent adoration. He knew it wasn't just about his success in studying, but there was something else. Their eyes were locked. Draco couldn't help, but feel shy and it took him some willpower not to look away. He was still smiling and this smile filled Harry's chest with warmth and pleasant tingling. Neither of them moved closer to the other, but the distance seemed nonexistent just like everything else. It was then when Harry realised that he was hopelessly lost in the depths of the grey eyes.

     When he was walking past Draco into the classroom, he took his hand and squeezed it lightly without letting anyone else notice.

"Congratulations. It was well-deserved," he smiled at the blond. Draco returned the smile, feeling a thrill of joy with all his being. The touch affected him deeply.

"Hurray for the bookworms," Ron muttered with a smile, looking at the blond Slytherin and Hermione. She'd heard her boyfriend and scowled at him.

     There was no way Draco could deny that he was deeply in love with Harry. No, he couldn't deny it anymore. For the first time in his life he was in love and had no idea what to do about it, so it stunned him. 'We're just friends,' he reminded himself with sadness. He was grateful for their friendship and was too afraid to lose it. The feeling made him nervous. At first it seemed unreal, but it spread its wings every time he was thinking of Harry, which was too often to be comfortable. How? Why?

     He'd had nothing like this before. Not even close! All his 'relationships' had come to nothing more than a little (and not really pleasant) adventure with another boy when Draco was fifteen. The other Slytherin boy had been handsome and he'd been two years older. At first the older one had paid court to the beautiful blond. Draco had become curious and once had found himself in the lavatory in the boy's arms. They'd been snogging and his worshipper had begged to let him touch Draco. The older boy had given him a handjob, but he hadn't been allowed to do anything else. Draco's curiosity had been satisfied and there'd been nothing else he'd wanted from him. However, the older boy hadn't intended to give up. He'd become whiny and persistent, because the object of his obsession had paid him no attention at all. Finally Draco had pushed the pest away, but the older boy had been sending him message after message, had started to harass him. He'd lost his pride and self-respect because of his obsession, so he'd decided to take revenge. Realizing that everything else had been useless, he'd begun to threaten the blond, promising to tell everyone about what they'd had in the lavatory. Draco had had enough. He'd invited the older boy 'for a talk' and obliviated him, using Legilimency to find the one concrete memory. He hadn't been very skilful Legilimens back then, but his skills had been enough. The next time his stalker had tried to approach him, Draco had left him to the mercy of Crabbe and Goyle. They hadn't shown any, however, and knocked the nonsense out of his head. They'd obviously been very convincing, since their prince had been left alone after that. The stalker had had nothing to blackmail Draco anymore, so the blond had sighed in relief.

     Pansy... Another farce. She'd kissed him twice, nearly strangling him with her arms, and both times he had shoved her away, just because he'd hated the way she'd been throwing herself at him. If he'd succumbed and slept with her, she would have certainly announced it publicly, making everyone believe that she'd been his fiancée, no less, and a future wife. Even the newspapers would have trumpeted it to the entire world - she would have taken care of it. She'd already been gossiping about many different things, concerning 'them'. Once, she had even tried to stuff him with love potion (in his ill-fated sixth year!). At first, to her delight, he'd thought that he'd needed her support in the very beginning of the school year. He'd simply tried to find some comfort, knowing that he'd been going to go through the frightening ordeal. But when he'd distanced himself from her, she'd decided to act. Thankfully, he'd noticed the strange smell, coming from his tea. He hadn't even yelled at her, he'd simply hexed her, looking at her searchingly and coldly. She'd been staying away from him since then.

     What else? Love letters from the nameless and faceless people? It had been something to brag about and nothing more.

     One could think that Draco was experienced in such things, since he was good-looking and had had some influence as a prince of the Slytherin and Malfoy's heir, and many people had liked him, but that was far from the truth. He'd always been too fastidious and distrustful to sleep around, and besides, he'd never wanted anyone to brag that they had been sleeping with Draco Malfoy. The truth was that at first Draco had been too young, then he'd had those unpleasant experiences, and finally he'd been too scared and tense on his sixth year even to think about such things. So he had nothing behind him. And, of course, he'd had nothing even to compare with what he felt towards Harry. How odd it was to realise that it was none other than Harry, who made him feel this way. Odd, but only if he pondered over it.

"Draco, may I ask, why in the Merlin's name are you reading this nonsense?" Severus interrupted the thoughts of his godson, who was sitting in his study. Draco wasn't even paying attention to what he was reading, or trying to read anyway. In fact, he'd been looking at the same page for almost fifteen minutes.

"What's wrong about it?" he shrugged, looking at the cover, a little confused.

"The writer, if that illiterate idiot could be called that, is no better than Lockhart. You're reading his first book and you might want to know that he contradicts himself in his next one, and later in all the subsequent ones. All of his theories are nothing but a fraud."

"Oh..."

     Draco was sitting in the room of interrogations. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He felt blood in his mouth. Fighting Veritaserum was useless, but he was too nervous and scared. He was biting his tongue, the inside of his cheek and lip, making them bleed, in attempt to avoid giving the direct answers. He had already spent more time in this room than usually, and they intended to keep him there until he answered all their questions. They gave him more Veritaserum, since the previous dose had started to wear off. He was afraid that they were going to intervene and do something to separate him from Harry, to forbid him even to approach the Gryffindor. He didn't want them to know about his secret love and probe into his soul with their dirty hands. It was so personal, so pure... Two men were watching him carefully.

"I repeat the question: what's happening between you and Harry Potter?"

"We're just friends..."

"But you said that something has changed. Exactly what? You've finally decided to take revenge, I believe?"

"No... I would never do that."

"Do you envy him for his good reputation and fame? All the roads lie open to him. I wouldn't say the same about you. Do you feel envy?"

"I don't."

"Are you trying to use him?"

"No."

"Then what are you hiding?"

"My feelings..."

"What feelings?"

"I... I love him..." The red-rimmed eyes closed for several moments. He was mortified.

"Um... I see. Does he know?"

"No."

"Have you been trying to seduce him?"

"No. I don't want him to know."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid of losing his friendship."

"Is there any way you would use love potions or any other way to persuade him to become your lover?"

"I've already told you, I wouldn't do anything like that."

"Why not? He would be very useful for you with his reputation if he was under your thumb. I would try anything if I had such feelings towards someone." A small laugh. A bad joke to try to 'release the tension' or just a stupid stinging remark?

"Doesn't speak well of you, I suppose," Draco replied quietly.

"And... Are you hoping he's going to share your... affection?" The voice was sceptical.

"No."

"You are dismissed. See you next time."

     The door hit the wall when he stormed out humiliated and hurt. Severus was there as usually. He didn't ask anything, seeing the boy's frustration. It would be unfair, since he was still under the effect of the truth potion. The older man disapparated them from the Ministry and led Draco to his room, once they were in the castle. Several minutes later he came to him with a potion to heal Draco's mouth and with Calming Draught, and left the vials on the desk before leaving the room. It was time when he knew that his subdued godson was better left alone.
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To Find The Missing Lifeline