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For the Want of a Nail	By : thewickednix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4934 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. This is made for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 9. Dazed and Abused

It is though I am living with a ghost.
The only sign of anyone living in this dark, creepy house beside me is the occasional rumble in the pipes as the water rushes up through them to the bathroom in Malfoy's bedroom. That's all. There are never steps to be heard in the corridors, never a sweater or a pair of shoes scattered around the house. Never a chair moved, never the smell of a candle burning.

Never a light.

The whole house, except for my own bedroom, is kept in complete darkness. If I light a candle or a gas lamp in the hallway, the next time I pass through there it has been put out. The whole house is freezing. I have to wear two sweaters even when sleeping to keep me warm. I keep myself from freezing to death in the cold mornings only by sitting in front of the stove in the kitchen for half an hour. Some mornings it's so cold that even the shoot of the dumbwaiter freezes shut.
Malfoy never eats. Well, any food, at least. I don't know if he's unable to due to his situation, or if he just doesn't want to. Anyway, it's not as if I can ask him either.

My ignorance of Malfoy's condition is what eventually leads me to seek out the library. Even if his presence barely acknowlegable, I am still living with a vampire. Hence, I need to know as much of them as possible. And this house being the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, I'm positive there is some information on dark creatures stashed here somewhere.
I stalk the dark corridor in the West Wing. I walk past a room that was once a study, a door down to the dungeons and what appears to be an old potions lab before I reach the large oak doors leading to the library. The doors open with a creek, and I step into the dark room. The only light are the thin rays of sunshine piercing the old curtains from a single window facing the garden.
And old fireplace is built into the opposite wall, while all the others are covered with books of all shapes and sizes. In front of the hearth two plush armchairs in chocolate brown are placed, one of them which is surrounded by stacks of books and pieces of parchment. It seems Malfoy has been spending some time here too. The room smells of old paper, dust and cigarettes.
I look around the room nervously, but see no sign of the other boy. Relieved, I make my way to one of the shelves; it's not like there are any places to hide in here.
I reach out my hand to pull out some of the books from the shelf when the silence in the room is sliced by a cold voice.
"What are you doing in here?"
Startled I turn around, searching for the familiar face of Malfoy. Finally I see him, crouching on top of a bookshelf beside the fireplace.

"I- I just wanted to look something up." I mumble, nervously meeting Malfoy's cold stare.
His expression remains emotionless, until he breaks the eye contact and jumps down from the shelf. He lands gracefully on bare feet with a muffled thump on the hardwood floor.
"I'll leave you to it then." Malfoy murmurs, heading for the door with long steps.
He's almost at the doors when I find my voice. "Wait!" I exclaim, crossing the room towards the blonde. "Why don't you stay? I won't bother you." Stopping a couple of meters from him, I am silenced by the hard look in his eyes.
"You want me to stay." he states, as if my request is something utterly insane. Most likely it is.
"Yes." I declare, as steadily as my voice may bear the words.
Malfoy raises an eyebrow, and the familiar expression gives me confidence, as if Malfoy is almost human again. "Why?"
I break the eye contact, looking around in the dark library. "I don't know about you, but at least to me this place is terrifyingly depressive. And being alone here with no one to talk to... that makes the whole thing even more unbearable." I look up to face Malfoy's stern features once again. "You must miss your friends too, right? Miss someone to talk to."
Malfoy stands quietly for a long while before he turns around and walks over to one of the chairs, the one with the books surrounding it. He sits down and stares into the fireplace, as if there was a fire there, a dance of flames only he can see.
"Why won't you light a fire?" I blurt out, regretting the words the moment they cross my lips. This was probably not one of those things I should have mentioned immediately after gaining this tiny shread of trust from Malfoy.
"Why should I?"
He turns his head to face me with a blank look, and for a moment I fear a Dementor has payed him a visit; he looks completely soul-less. In a moment his eyes clear though, and he looks back to his imaginary fire.
"There is nothing here to be seen." Malfoy murmurs, emptiness tainting his voice. "I manage well without a single light, and I don't need other people coming here and staring at me as if I were some circus animal. I don't need Severus and Dumbledore coming here and looking at me with pity and fear as they see my face." Malfoy swallows loudly, turning to face me again, nailing me to the floor with that piercing gaze of his.
"Everyone will be happier if they can forget that I exist."
"I won't." I mumble, my legs carrying me towards Malfoy on their own. I sit down on the floor beside him. Tentatively I place my hand on the armrest, only inches away from Malfoy's hand.
"Malfoy, you may hide from the world in darkness, but even here you can't hide from me." I look up into Malfoy's silver eyes. Behind that icy complexion I see a scared boy, searching for something. Acceptance perhaps. "I know that I cannot possibly understand what you're going through, but... I have seen you." I exclaim, gently covering Malfoy's cold hand with mine. His hand shudders softly and his lower lip trembles, but otherwise he remains perfectly still.
"I have seen you, Malfoy. Both who you were before and who you are now. And believe me, if I were to call either of you a monster, it would not be the person you are now."
Malfoy stares up at me, his eyes suddenly burning with a rage I had not expected. "Fuck you, Potter. You know nothing about who I am."
With those words, Malfoy rushes up from the chair and disappears through the doors.

___________________________________________________________________

I hear the rats walking the attic again as I try to fall asleep, my mind still filled with thoughts of Malfoy.
Sighing, I turn around in my bed once again. I just don't understand him. One minute he is very civil, even friendly. Then suddenly, he gets agitated and bites my head off for no reason at all.
Half an hour later, I give up trying to sleep on the problem. Putting on my slippers, I exit my room and walk to the third story of the West Wing, to Malfoy's room.
I knock, but not a sound is heard from the inside. I almost turn to leave, but decide against it. It would be right for me to wake Malfoy, considering he has caused me to lie awake most of the night.
Another knock, but still no response. Finally, I lose my nerve and open the door myself, common British courtesy be damned.
Again the thoughts of ghosts fill my brain as I enter Malfoy's room. It is obvious that I am in the right room. The closet door stands open and even in the darkness I can spot Malfoy's silver-green Slytherin robes hanging there. But otherwise, the room seems completely uninhabited.
There are no personal possessions on neither the wooden drawer, nor on the bedside table. The four-poster bed is empty and made, and as I approach it I detect a thin layer of dust covering it. The only thing indicating any life in the room is the open window, the cold wind bringing in small flakes of snow. I run my finger across the edge of the bed, wondering. Has Malfoy slept in here once since he got here?
"May I ask what you're doing in my room, Potter?"
I turn around to find Malfoy standing in the window opening, clad in but a pair of slacks and a white t-shirt. "Um- I was just..." I sputter as I watch the blonde boy gracefully jump down from the window sill and approach me.
"What is it that you want from me?" Malfoy asks, stopping a yard in front of me, lazily putting his hands into his pockets as he observes me.
I avert my gaze from him and look beside me to the bed again. "Don't you sleep in your bed?" I ask in a feeble attempt to avoid Malfoy's question.
"You didn't answer my question." he mutters, taking another step closer to me.
"You didn't answer mine." I retort childishly.
Malfoy stares at me for a minute before turning away from the bed. "I don't."
I turn towards him. "What?"
"I don't. Sleep, that is."
"Oh," is all I can say as I stare at the man in front of me. I suddenly realise how hard this must be for him. Everyone around him is thinking about the fact that he is a threat to them, that he might attack them.
But what about Malfoy? I look at the pale pointed features of the Slytherin and realise he must be devastated. It's not only the fact that he now needs other people's blood to survive. He cannot eat, he cannot sleep. To constantly be reminded of the fact that you are different, to constantly be afraid that you might hurt the person next to you...
"That must be horrible."
Malfoy looks at me with a blank expression for a minute before turning his eyes to the floor and snorting softly. "Well, it gives me more time to study."
"But more time to think."
He turns back to me, surprise and something close to fear lacing his features. Sitting down on the dusty bed, he sighs. "Too much time to think."
I take the liberty to sit down on the bed too, facing Malfoy and crossing my legs in front of me. "What do you do on the roof then, if not think?"
"How do you know I was on the roof?" Malfoy asks with a stern voice, but in his sneer I detect a trace of a smile. I raise an eyebrow.
"Well you had to have been outside since you appeared on the windowsill, and I'm pretty sure we can't leave the house. So I figured those rats I've been hearing in the attic at night aren't rats after all?" I grin as I see Malfoy's face quirk into a Cheshire-cat grin. He leers at me from behind the blonde strands falling in front of his face. "I thought so."
He rubs his neck absentmindedly, looking over his shoulder out through the window. "I... I go to the roof to escape from this house. From it all. I don't think on the roof, I just... listen."
I don't know what to say to that. We sit in silence for a long while, Malfoy staring out the window, me staring at Malfoy. At that milky hue, those steel gray, haunted eyes. That beautiful platinum hair that shines up like silver in this dark room. I find it amazing how someone so beautiful can be considered evil, a monster even. I see nothing evil about this skinny boy in front of me. This scared, pale boy who even now carries himself with a posture of highest grace.
"Can you eat or sleep, or is it just that you don't need to?" I finally ask, breaking the silence that has almost pleasantly surrounded us. Malfoy turns to me with a furrow between his brows, eyes piercing me with ferocity, though not anger.
"Why do you ask?"
"Well," I laugh softly, a little breathtaken by Malfoy's intense stare. "If I'm living with a vampire I might as well learn about them too, right?"
My companion seems content by that answer. He turns to face me, pulling his legs up from beside the bed to cross them in front of himself. "I can't eat, as my body can no longer process the food. As for the sleeping..." he looks thoughtfully past my shoulder at something only he can see. "I guess I could fall asleep, if I ever were to lie still long enough to do so. It hasn't happened so far, but I guess one never knows."
- 8
- 9
- 10
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For the Want of a Nail