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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Disclaimers: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, Warner Bros, and some other companies that are NOT me. I make nothing from this. In fact, I lose money to write this, so… no suing, ‘kay?

Warnings: Angst, language, OOC, 7th year timeline based upon OotP – Disregarding HBP and DH, slash

A/N: Hm, so, I had to sit down and plot out what I really wanted to happen in this fic. (Good idea, truthfully, but it’s time-consuming and ever changing.) I’ve decided that since I am not touching HPB or DH, I didn’t want to deal with Horcruxes either. I’ve got my own theory and it’ll be making an appearance later.

Chapter Seven – I Don’t Care

The rest of the month of September passed by quietly, leaving Harry with plenty of time to actually do his homework and concentrate on trying to process what he was learning for the N.E.W.T.s later that year. The only person he willingly spoke to in his year was Neville, the other boy being a nice contrast to the constant gossiping and joking around the other boys were constantly doing. With no Quidditch this year, he figured that he’d have a decent chance of actually getting at least an EE in every subject, if he was very smart with his time.

The most frequent topic of conversation was, of course, Draco Malfoy and the missing Slytherins. It was as if they weren’t in the middle of a war with the century’s most insane, evil wizard. No, what the Slytherins were doing was much more interesting. If Harry heard Malfoy’s name one more time from any of the other boys, he’d start hexing them all. Neville, when he asked him, was of the same opinion, as were Hermione and Ginny.

However, since the mention of access to WWN in the Gryffindor common room, the appearance of random Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students was becoming frequent. In light of that fact, Harry and Neville began spending their free time in the library, Hagrid’s hut, or the greenhouses helping Professor Sprout. Many times, while they were in the library, a shock of white blond hair could be seen in one of the corners, buried behind various books and papers, as if Malfoy was trying to hide himself away from the other students.

As time passed, Harry began to feel sorry for the other boy. He was pale, and a few times he’d sported black eyes. After the second incident, Professor Slughorn started asking the portraits what happened, and three fifth year Gryffindors were assigned two months detention with Filtch. It was obvious that something was bothering the Slytherin boy. Every time Harry saw him, Dumbledore’s words came back to haunt him. However, he still didn’t want to go out on a limb and end up paying for it with his life, or worse.

The last day of September found Harry and Neville at what was fast becoming their regular table, books forgotten as they talked about an article Neville’d read in some Herbology journal. The rest of the student body was probably in their respective common rooms, since there was still two hours until dinner. Madam Pince was dusting bookshelves on the other side of the room, occasionally throwing them dirty looks, and Malfoy’s corner was empty. All in all, life was pretty quiet and good for Harry at that point.

But, all good things must come to an end.

While the Gryffindors were engrossed in their conversation, the heavy wooden doors of the library burst open, revealing a very bruised and battered Draco Malfoy. His natural grace was marred by a very pronounced limp, and blood was dripping from above his left eye and the right corner of his mouth.

Madam Pince let out a very loud gasp of shock and Neville stopped speaking in mid-word. That was what caused Harry to turn around. And his stomach turned.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d jumped up from his seat and ran over to the injured Slytherin, hands pausing before they actually touched him. “What happened, Malfoy?”

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

Draco looked up into worried green eyes and felt like crying. How long had he been waiting to see Harry direct something other than disgust and anger at him? ‘Too long’, he thought morosely, frowning. Instantly, he regretted that action, as it caused both his rapidly swelling eye and lips to hurt even more, and added to his general unhappiness.

“Why do you care, Potter?” he asked quietly, leaning against the door frame and trying to drag air into his lungs. He knew the pain in his right side was an indication of possible fractured rib. “I would assume you’d revel to see me brought down so low.”

“Don’t be stupid, Malfoy. I don’t enjoy seeing other people in pain, not even you,” the Gryffindor replied, turning his mouth up in a sneer.

“That’s a relief,” Draco whispered. Half of him hoped that the other boy could hear that statement, but the look on Potter’s face showed he hadn’t.

“So, what happened?” Harry asked again, putting a hand on his left shoulder to keep him standing.

“Hufflepuff sixth years, down by the lake… Took a walk and on the way back, they jumped me.” He snorted uncharacteristically and regretted it when his head began pounding. ‘No, not my head, it’s Longbottom’s footsteps on the floor. The last two people in the school I wanted to see and they are both here, together, at the worst possible moment.’

“Harry,” the other boy said quietly, “maybe we should take him to see Madam Pomfrey? I don’t like the way he’s leaning.”

The black-haired boy shook his head as if to clear it. “You’re right, Nev.” Then, those intense green eyes were back on him, making his injuries seem less significant by the way his blood began heating up under that intense gaze. “Malfoy, can you walk on your own?”

Draco shook his head and tried to process what the Gryffindors were talking about. “No, no Pomfrey,” he snarled, attempting to move away from the do-gooders.

“Don’t be stupid, Malfoy,” Longbottom shot back heatedly. The reaction was definitely not something that Draco was used to and he had to look up and make sure he was hearing correctly. “It’s obvious that you’re seriously injured, and it’s nothing that Harry or I can mend. You have to go to Madam Pomfrey, or it could get worse.”

The blond flushed at the passion and compassion lacing the voice of the only other person he’d been crueler to than Harry. He understood that he didn’t really deserve their worry, but there was no law that said he couldn’t take advantage of it. If only they didn’t want to drag him through half the castle, injured and weak. “As if either of you would lose sleep if something was wrong with me,” he whispered.

“Neville, do you know what this prat’s problem is?” Potter asked contemptuously. “He’s worried that someone would see us helping him through the castle and it would ruin his reputation.”

“That’s just dumb,” Longbottom responded as he rested one of his chubby hands on Draco’s left shoulder. “Your reputation is already shot, Malfoy. It can only improve by being seen with Harry.” The Gryffindors chuckled and Draco was forced to acknowledge the truth of that statement with a wry smile.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get Malfoy to the infirmary…” Harry’s voice dropped off and Draco looked into his rival’s eyes, wondering what the other boy was thinking. “We could always use a Disillusionment Charm, Malfoy, to avoid anyone noticing you.”

“Yes,” Draco said, breathing shallowly as his ribs ached. He closed his eyes as Harry’s holly wand appeared and waved in front of his face. He was shocked by the warm feeling of Harry’s magic – it seemed to warm him…everywhere, and he was suddenly very grateful for the fact that no one would be able to see his face for a while.

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

Harry watched calmly as Madam Pomfrey tended to Malfoy’s wounds, asking very few questions, but her face pinched up as if she was just waiting to speak her piece about the situation. Truthfully, most of the teachers now wore faces oddly similar to the one the mediwitch had on her face when it came to Malfoy and his treatment by the other students. It was as if they couldn’t decide if he deserved what they were doing to him or not. And as more people were attacked and died, the beatings became more frequent and vicious.

It didn’t please Harry one iota. At all.

When all of the blond’s wounds had been treated, Madam Pomfrey handed him a very familiar-looking potion vial. Silver eyes narrowed at her while he sniffed the liquid pointedly. Harry could see the muscles of the sharp angled jaw clench. Instinctively, he understood that the Slytherin didn’t want to be rendered unconscious while he and Neville were there and decided to spare him the humiliation – unlike what had been offered to him earlier that month by the same person – although, in retrospect, Malfoy’s thinking had spared them both a very sticky situation that neither could have adequately answered.

Harry grabbed onto Neville’s sleeve, gently pulling his friend out of the infirmary and into the hall. He didn’t move beyond that. He knew that the mediwitch would be out there to ask them the questions that she knew her patient wouldn’t answer. And sure enough, three minutes later, the plump witch was looking at the teenaged boys, eyes shining with barely contained rage.

“What happened?” she asked tightly.

“He said that he was… attacked down by the lake,” Neville answered, running a nervous hand through his shaggy brown hair.

“He didn’t say who did it, and we had to threaten him to come here for treatment,” Harry added. His tone conveyed his annoyance, which earned him odd looks from his friend and the nurse.

“Thank you,” the witch said, sounding strangely thoughtful. “I suggest you two go back to your House, since being here right now would be rather suspicious.” She smiled as Harry’s eyes narrowed at her. “Don’t worry, Mr. Potter. I will make sure that Mr. Malfoy makes it back to his rooms without incident, when I feel he is ready to be released.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to get much else out of the woman, Harry turned on his heel, one thought running through his mind: it was time for another talk with Dumbledore.

TBC
- 7
- 8
- 9
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The End Shall Come, And We Will Dance Forever