After Practice [Harry and Draco]

[Harry Potter]

date: 20 september 2005; tuesday

[/b][/size]s he finished getting dressed, Harry took a moment to silently thank his stars that Malfoy was apparently oblivious. There was no way he wouldn't have said something bitchy if he'd noticed Harry's distracted staring, so it could only mean he'd either really not noticed, or... he was as straight as an arrow, and therefore noticed but didn't care. Didn't register it as strange, at least. Either way-- thank Merlin. No doubt he'd kick up a fuss if he thought Harry's concern had ulterior motives or something.

He listened as well as he could to Malfoy's muttering, but there was enough distance between them now that it was difficult to hear. Besides, private mutters didn't really warrant responding, and he really wasn't a nosy creeper. All the time. Even so, when Malfoy spoke up in what was clearly directed at him, he finished buttoning his shirt and looked over as he listened, cool calm regained. The brief time apart helped him get his shit together in his head, and he was adamant that he'd better resist any more slips like that, even if Malfoy hadn't even noticed. It had still been a damn close call.

The cool calm was difficult to maintain for long. Blinking, he narrowed his eyes, wondering if Malfoy really thought he was going to do that sort of shit. Merlin, Slytherins were so bloody paranoid all the time! Either that, or Malfoy really didn't know him all that well in spite of their years of antagonistically living next to each other... "Malfoy, look. For one, when have you ever seen me be a gossipmonger?" he demanded, indignant at the very idea. "I know it's in our house to not trust others, but I'm not out to ruin your life. For another, it's not difficult to be civil to you when you're not being a twat. You're the one who's always had it in for me," he reminded. "I don't like you when you're being an elitist bastard or mocking me and my friends, but you... you're not so bad one-on-one." Even if it apparently takes getting sick to make you into a decent human being, he reminded himself. They likely wouldn't have talked at all were it not for whatever was going on with Malfoy's family to make him vulnerable, after all. Harry had to remind himself that nothing between them was actually changing...

Turning away again, he finished grabbing his bag (his own Quidditch gear also left in the lockers) and turned to face the blond again. "I'm not out to blackmail you. I'm not that underhanded," he told Malfoy cooly, irritation and some level of hurt fortifying him against any attraction he felt toward the blond. Malfoy didn't like him, Malfoy was clueless to his interest, Malfoy didn't care-- he had to remind himself of that. As soon as Malfoy was better, any positive interactions between them would be swept under the rug again like a dirty little secret. What good would it do him to cling to the ever so brief memory of holding a pliant, willing Draco Malfoy? All it was was support. Dwelling would only screw him up, and while he generally considered himself a well-rounded, well-adjusted individual, Malfoy already screwed him up as it was. He'd always known the blond was off-limits, but this... this had been dangerous.

This almost made him hope.

"This didn't mean anything," he added, half to the blond and half to himself. He couldn't let himself forget that again and go chasing after the one person who hated him most just because he was good-looking and charming and sometimes witty and occasionally adorably vulnerable... none of that meant anything in the long run. "Let's go."[/ul]

[Draco Malfoy]

"Whatever," Draco sighed, scowling. He almost stomped off towards the castle, an impressive improvement from his weak limping minutes ago. He had to prove a point and do it well.

He was used to viewing anyone as either an enemy, or an ally. Potter, unfortunately, didn't fit into either of those completely. He was an anomaly, made Draco unsure of himself, and he absolutely hated it.

Draco stopped, groaning as he squatted down. He put his hands over his face. He felt nauseous and he hadn't even tried to eat in the past hour. He put one hand on the ground to keep himself from falling forwards.

"Bloody hell," he winced, putting his other hand through his hair. "What. The fuck. Did I do," he hissed quietly, screwing his eyes shut. He didn't know why he had headaches, why his appetite was playing vanishing games. It wasn't his fault, it couldn't be.

It hurt. The pain in his stomach, his head. He couldn't explain it and it just made it worse. He kept his eyes closed. He could feel tears gathering and he didn't want to cry over it. He didn't want to cry when he knew Potter could be coming behind him. Draco raised a sleeve to his face, wiping them away.

[Harry Potter]

date: 20 september 2005; tuesday

[/b][/size]arry was blissfully set to ignore any tantrum Malfoy might throw when the boy abruptly dropped to a squat. Having been on his way over, Harry halted in his own steps, although he was irritated before he was concerned. "What -" he began to complain What now? when he stopped, seeing Draco having to steady himself as he curled up.

Approaching hurriedly, Harry set his bag down and put a hand on Malfoy's back. "What is it?" he asked, staring intentely. Malfoy's eyes were glistening, he could see that, but he didn't have the slightest idea if they were stress-tears, pain-tears, or just a trick of the light. Either way, he rubbed Malfoy's back in soothing circles the way his mum used to do for him; this time, however, he resisted pulling him into a cradle, in part because he was afraid to, and in part because he doubted it would do any good anyway. "Do you want me to go get Pomfrey? Or - or some food or something? Here -"

Turning away long enough to fight his bag open, he pulled out a canteen of iced spiced pumpkin juice he'd snagged from the kitchens that morning. Uncapping it, he offered it to the blond to get some nutrients and liquid in his system.[/ul]

[Draco Malfoy]

"I wanna sleep," Draco said quietly. "I just... want to sleep," he whispered. He was caught between wanting to fall against Potter again just to have someone there, or push him away and act disgusted that he would even think that he needed help. He took the pumpkin juice in slightly shaky hands.

He was careful as he put it to his lips and sipped. "'M sorry. I'm a mess. No good. I can't even figure out what's wrong with me," he muttered quietly. He didn't know what it was that made him like this, and he could only hope it could be fixed.

Draco looked up. "Please, don't leave," he said a little more desperately than he intended to, his eyes still a little damp. He set the canteen down before searching for Potter's hand to hold. He felt scared. Maybe this time it wouldn't stop hurting... not get better.

"You won't tell anyone, I know you won't. I'm sorry... I... I get worried about all these pointless silly things. You're not like the rest of them talking behind peoples' backs. You're... good..." he let go of Potter's hand and looked down. "I'm so crazy. I should stop talking, I should stop... everything," he groaned

[Harry Potter]

date: 20 september 2005; tuesday

[/b][/size]he more Draco spoke, the more alarmed Harry became. He was torn between Quit being such a god damn drama queen, you're exhausting me! and oh-shit-he's-suicidal. Either way, he waited for Malfoy to finish, trying to remain distant, trying not to care too much... but really, the Please did it even more than the tears. He never could resist a damsel in distress... or a dragon in one.

Sighing, he sank back down behind Draco and drew him back against his chest, relieved they were at least both fully clothed this time. It was definitely too intimate a position for him to even consider with hardly anybody else, but... the way Malfoy was cracking like this made Harry toss his reservations to the wind. It was so strange to think of Malfoy acting so scared and vulnerable and, of all things, needing comfort, but Harry certainly wasn't going to deny him, and it was the most comforting position he could think of. "You're going to be the death of me," he grumbled even as he flushed a bit - just a bit! - at being told he was good. Morally, he knew he was "good" - he was a protector through and through - but... he hadn't thought that Malfoy valued things like that. The way he talked now, though...

It made Harry want to hold him (done) and keep him away from Slytherin pureblood supremacist expectations forever (unrealistic). "Shh, it's okay, I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to. But don't talk like you're about to give up on everything," he chastized quietly, keeping his arms loosely around the other boy so he could easily squirm away if he felt too uncomfortable. "If you don't like the gossiping and blackmailing and all that, just... stop. Break away from it. Not all of the Slytherins are like that, not even all of the purebloods. There's always help for people who want it."[/ul]

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco pulled his arms and legs close to his chest, his head turned to the side, resting against Potter's shoulder. "Dying would count as leaving," Draco muttered. When he thought about it now, he really wouldn't want Potter to die. Even if he knew too much and if he really wanted he could tell who he liked about... this. His father, and godfather, would be horrified that he let a Potter see him like this, weak as he was. They would say it was horrible to show the enemy that you can be hurt in any way. Potter was supposed to be the enemy. All his friends and family were on the opposite side.

He shook his head. "I can't stop. It's what I'm meant to do, who I have to be, to keep me and my family safe. Be proper. It's... necessary," Draco said. He turned sideways a bit, letting his hands slowly reach out to hold the front of Potter's shirt, his head tucked under the other boy's chin. It was almost as it he could completely forget who it was and just let it be someone who was warm, and strong, and there even though he had been pushing everyone away as long as he could remember. He tried to just keep doing that.

The blonde didn't move much and his eyes were looking at the arms around him, but not really focused on them, just... open. He was just focusing on what it felt like to be held, almost like what his mother used to do for him when he had bad dream. How he used to crawl into his parent's bed between his mother and father. He was much too old for that now, and these were't dreams, all these bad things happening were real.

Draco couldn't even say that he wasn't thinking about giving up, because maybe he was. He wouldn't lie to someone holding him this closely.

[Harry Potter]

date: 20 september 2005; tuesday

[/b][/size]miling in spite of himself at the quietly uttered Dying would count as leaving, Harry had to bite back a laugh. Dammit, it was... he was... too cute. He generally found the boy's tantrums to be simultaneously cute and really bloody annoying, but this wasn't some raucous tantrum; this was just... Malfoy. The real Malfoy, he thought, the inner side of him beneath the proud strutting and insulting and bullying like the stupid white peacocks that graced his family's home (oh yeah, he remembered the damn things). This was the doubting, thinking, worrying, human part of him... a part Malfoy probably considered vulnerable and weak, but others would consider their strength. The fear to drive people to change, the desperation to push them beyond perceived limits, the emotions that connected everyone together. The part that Harry would probably never see again.

He didn't want to never see it again. (How was that for a double-negative ?) He didn't like for Malfoy to be so upset and worn out but he did like to see him acting human.

Harry frowned when Draco talked about keeping his family safe, interpreting it to mean their reputation if Malfoy "acted out" by their terms. Screw their reputations; Malfoy wasn't the first rich pureblood from a Slytherin background to break away from the gossipy nonsense, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. His patience for that sort of nonsense was slim to none, considering Sirius had also broken away from his upbringing - an upbringing every bit as controlling as Malfoy's. Hell, they were related, after all. Sirius was technically what, Malfoy's uncle ? Second cousin ? First cousin once removed ? Whatever. Either way, as nonexistent as Harry's patience generally was for people who whinged about the expectations heaped upon them, he found himself holding his tongue this time to think about it instead.

"How do you know what you're meant to do, or how you're meant to be ?" he asked. The blond was obviously not trying to scream harassment and run away so he shifted his arms, keeping the right around Malfoy's waist and lifting his left hand to stroke - not yank, like his clumsy mistake of a decade ago - through Malfoy's hair soothingly. "Fate's not the sort of thing anyone can tell. Maybe you're meant to turn your back on all of the expectations and demands when the time comes. Meant to have your own life, do what you need to do, what you think is right... Your parents would want you safe and happy, after all." That much, he was sure of. He didn't know much about the elder Malfoys aside from that Lucius Malfoy was a completely bigoted arse and routinely upset Ron's and Ginny's dad, but he'd seen Malfoy interacting with his mother and could tell he was the world to her. Not like Walburga Black, who'd sell her own son for status and never gave a rip about Sirius or morals or dreams... Harry couldn't say he liked her, from the glimpses he'd had of the tall, cool, proud woman, but she certainly seemed to dote on Draco in a way that showed she cared, rather than than the sort of spoiling that meant "Mummy's busy, go away." It was possible he was wrong - his judgment could be damn biased sometimes - but he tended to trust himself. "If your mum could see you these days, she'd be worried sick. How can I... how do I help you?"

The last was said in almost a whisper. He knew he was always drawn to help people who needed it - couldn't understand how anyone wouldn't be, really - but this was different. This was Malfoy This was... personal. If there was anything he could do to keep him from collapsing again, from crying, from feeling so stressed out and alone - anything that didn't involve hurting somebody else (well, unless they deserved it) - he would do it in a heartbeat.[/ul]

[Draco Malfoy]

"I can't just turn my back on it. I worked so hard, I can't just stop... If I... if I just change like that and turn my back on all these people... I'll be in trouble. I have to be keep us safe," Draco was muttering quietly. He probably sounded like he had bloody lost it, be he couldn't up and tell Potter that his dad was in allegiance with the dark lord. He had to keep his Slytherin friends, the allies that would really help and keep them his family safe. He couldn't just join the other side.

He stifled a bit of a sob as he held on tighter to Potter's shirt and robes. "Don't tell mum... I don't want her to worry for my sake. She does it too much already... me and father, I don't know know how she doesn't worry herself sick," he tried to laugh a bit and sniffled. It was comforting the way Potter held him, the hand in his hair.

He didn't know what to say when Potter asked how he could help. He didn't want more people caught up in his mess. "I don't know," he muttered. He just wanted to stay there a while even though he was getting light headed again and should probably be getting down to madame Pomfrey. He reached over with one hand to where the pumpkin juice was left, taking a small sip of it again.

[Harry Potter]

date: 20 september 2005; tuesday

[/b][/size]o be frank, the quiet muttering did sound a bit mental, and Harry worried more. All... all what people? There were only three people in his family. At least... he'd never heard of any other Malfoys in Britain, and the Blacks were dead save for the estranged ones, Sirius and Andromeda. He couldn't imagine Malfoy cared for their well-being. How many people did Malfoy think he had to protect? And why? He was only 15, for Salazar's sake. It didn't sound like he was just talking about reputation anymore, either...

Tightening his hold as Malfoy clung to him, Harry furrowed his brow. What on earth was going on with this family? "I won't tell her anything you don't want me to," he promised. Really, they had no adult mentors in common, so who could Harry tell? Both sides of their family were out - Malfoy's wouldn't trust him, and his wouldn't trust Malfoy - and like hell he'd go to Snape for anything, head of house or not. Pomfrey didn't ask too many questions, but she also didn't nose about in the students' business, tending to mend them and send them on their way. Speaking of Pompfrey, he knew he ought to get Malfoy over to her soon... but once he was stable again. Leaving him alone long enough to get dressed had only made him crumple again, so he was certainly in no condition to traverse the castle. After he finishes the juice and calms down, he told himself, refusing to admit that he might also be putting off having to let go. Fresh from a shower, he smelled so...

Steering himself away from that train of thought, he mentally berated himself for being so superficial. Even if Malfoy was confusing the hell out of him right now, it was because he was vulnerable, not because he was interested. He couldn't possibly take advantage of that, not when Malfoy was bloody crying and clinging and passing out. The idea that Malfoy could use his feelings as blackmail didn't even register with him; it was purely his morals that reigned him in. "What are you working on? Why would you be in trouble? Who's in danger?" he urged instead, loosening his hold long enough for Malfoy to drink more juice more easily before immediately resuming the cuddle stabilising support. It was good that Malfoy was talking, even if it was about as cryptic as possible. He was obviously holding in something that was troubling him. "What sort of trouble? Let me help you - what do you need? An alibi, money, a place to stay for a while? Help with your... your project?" Maybe he was being a bit pushy, a bit desperate to be useful... but dammit, he couldn't leave it alone.

Remus... maybe Remus would help? Remus was a good person, the kindest he'd ever met, and Remus had seen more than his share of tough times. Surely Remus wouldn't turn away a student in need, even if it was Malfoy. His mother wouldn't, either, even if she had to hex his dad into acquiescance. Reaching for his wand, he ran another cooling charm over the young Seeker, just in case. Much of the humidity had already dissipated, but it couldn't hurt.

Putting the wand away again, he resumed his previous protective posture. Winding his arms around Malfoy, he rested his chin against the wet, silky hair and wondered if it was even humanly possible to be more wrapped around somebody than he already was. "If not me, Dumbledore? He'd do anything to help their students, you know. I'll talk to him if you need me to." He would, too, even if he wasn't entirely sure anymore what Dumbledore thought of him.[/ul]

[Draco Malfoy]

“Thank you,” Draco mumbled, sniffling a little. He was still drinking the juice slowly, thankful that the feeling of having to throw up wasn't actually causing him to do just that. He felt bad that even if Potter was offering all this help, he couldn't take it without bringing him into the problem as well. Draco didn't want that, making this mess bigger.

He shook his head when Potter started asking more questions. "I can't tell you," he said quietly. "If I could... I can't, he shook his head. "I'm okay. I need... I don't know," he sighed, slumping against Potter again and closing his eyes.

"I just need to make sure I don't pass out again. That's all. 'M fine. I need to eat, and sleep, and that's it. I have to stop worrying," he sighed. "I need to distract myself and stop thinking about it so I stop worrying and get my bloody appetite back," me muttered. "I'm not bringing anyone else into this. Not you, or Dumbledore, or anyone," he said.

Draco felt small, like there was no way he could fix the bigger problem that was making him sick. He wanted to stop being a part of this whole war that was starting, he wanted his father to stop supporting some maniac, and he wanted him mum to be safe no matter what. He didn't want to be looked at like a potential death eater, someone they could slap the dark mark on and send out to do some evil thing.

[Lakin!]

- Closed -
- This thread has been closed because there has not been a reply in over 7 days. If you would like it re-opened please pm an admin! Was located in the slytherin locker room. -