After All TBGC
Updated: February 12, 2005
Summer I / Part C:
‘He hit
me.’
Harry really
couldn’t get past that thought. He wanted
to move, or talk back, or do something, but the only thing that he could do was stand
there looking at the wall thinking ‘he hit me.’ And for some reason it had hurt
more than when Uncle Vernon had done it. Uncle
Vernon had hit him so hard he’d been knocked off his feet, this had simply snapped
his head to one side and somehow it hurt more. How
could it hurt more?
He felt Snape
grab his arm and drag him into his room, but he didn’t protest. He couldn’t.
‘He hit
me.’
Harry thought
that perhaps he would feel better if he could cry, but he couldn’t do that either. Though he did admit he was closer to it now than he
had been a year ago in his cupboard.
Maybe it was
that he expected it from the Dursleys. He
expected the abuse, it was always a threat and in a way when Uncle Vernon had hit him it
had been a relief. It was like he had been
staring at an angry bull waiting for it to charge and it finally had. The expectation had been worse than the event. Or maybe it was something else. He really didn’t know why, and in the end, he
didn’t think he wanted to.
The door to
his room closed and he looked up. He hadn’t
even realised he’d sat down on the bed until that moment. Draco had come in.
So they were still supposed to sleep in the same room. Fine, he couldn’t care less.
‘He hit
me.’
Draco
pretended not to notice Harry sitting on the edge of the bed as he went to the wardrobe
and took out his night clothes. He wasn’t
sure what the big deal was, but the other boy looked like he was in some kind of shock. Stupid Potter.
If anyone was spoiled it was Harry Potter, doted on by the staff and
students. So what if he didn’t get a lot
of toys? He had the run of Hogwarts year round.
He went back
to the side of the bed closest to the door and began changing, staring at the back of
Potter’s head in contempt. It wasn’t
like Uncle Severus had hit him so hard. Draco’s
own father had used the cane on him for much less. Sitting
up on the bed, he pulled the covers over himself and turned the light next to his bed off.
When Harry
didn’t move to turn his own off, Draco sat up with a sigh, “I’m trying to
sleep, or are you going to sit there and pout all evening?”
Draco was
taken slightly aback at the ferocity behind Harry’s eyes when he turned to look at
him. “I’m not pouting, I’m
thinking.”
Draco huffed
and threw himself down on his pillow, half to avoid having to match the gaze any longer. “Whatever, Potter. Either turn off the light or do it somewhere else.”
He heard
Potter hop off the bed, his bare feet plopping against the thin carpet that surrounded the
bed. A moment later the bed shifted and the
light turned off. Draco closed his eyes and
pretended to sleep while he listening to unsteady breathing of the boy next to him.
Stupid spoiled
Potter.
____________________
Harry tried very hard to pretend nothing had happened the next morning. He got up, grabbed his clothes for the morning and
had a shower, ignoring Snape who was sitting at his desk.
He sat on the sofa, deciding that Snape would probably stop him if he tried
to leave. The bed was still unmade and Draco
was fast asleep.
There was no
little amount of resentment for this. Had
Harry still been asleep at ten in the morning Snape would be pounding on his door,
demanding that he get up and that laziness would not be tolerated. He’d done this several times during the first
week Harry had been there until he instinctively woke up before ten as a sort of
self-defence.
Draco didn’t
wander out of the room until nearly
The bed was
still unmade and he considered for a moment telling Draco that since he had been the last
one up, he should be the one to make it. Something
in Harry knew that Snape would not be happy about that, so he made the bed in silence
before heading back into the living room.
The house elves had already brought brunch out and Draco was sitting in a chair, waiting
patiently for Snape to come sit down. Harry
sat as well and Snape looked over at them in disinterest, “I ate breakfast this
morning.”
Draco quickly
picked up a small sandwich from the centre of the plate and began eating in slow, small
bites. Harry picked his up and started to
shove the whole thing in his mouth, as he usually did in his efforts to annoy Snape, but
when he moved his jaw he felt a dull throb and the memory of the evenings abuse seemed
ever present. Carefully he bit it in half,
eating only what he could fit in his mouth. It
was nowhere near as dignified as the aristocratic blonde sitting across from him, but then
he didn’t think he could ever be that restrained.
When they’d
finished nearly half the sandwiches, Harry stood up and headed towards the exit.
“Wash
your hands.”
Harry wanted
desperately to yell something at Snape, to snap at him and run off before the man could do
anything, but unfortunately he couldn’t think of anything to say, so he went to the
bathroom, washed his hands, and ran out the door before the Professor could call him on
anything else.
The elves were
busy in the kitchen and neither Hagrid, nor Professor Dumbledore appeared to have returned
yet. Not that he expected they would be, but
he’d hoped. When he got bored with
wandering aimlessly around the castle he decided he’d best return to Snape’s
quarters. He didn’t want to be accused of
being rude, after all.
He was halfway
there when he ran into Draco. The other boy
slit his grey eyes suspiciously. “Where
have you been?”
Harry
shrugged, but made no effort to try and get past. “None
of your business.”
“Snape
sent me looking for. He says you’re to
apologise and that you have to show me around the castle as I don’t know where
anything is.”
“I’m
not going to apologise.”
Draco’s
eyes narrowed further before he turned around and started to walk towards the dungeon. Harry reached out and caught his arm. “Where are you going?
“To tell
him that I found you and that you refused to do as he said.”
Harry’s
breath caught in his throat and he tightened his grip on Draco’s arm instinctively. He didn’t want to apologise, but he was now
faced with a very daunting prospect – it was face an angry Professor Snape or swallow
his pride and apologise. “I... I‘m
sorry.”
Draco shrugged
off Harry’s hand and turned to face him. “Now
you have to show me around the castle.”
Stuck up
little... “What do you want to see? There isn’t much to it really, not during
the summer. During the school year it’s
packed with people and there’s always something to see, but right now,” he waved
his hand at the deserted hall around them, “it’s as empty as a tomb.”
“What do
you do all day?”
Harry thought
for a moment, “Well, I go to the kitchens and watch the house elves, or I go visit
Professor Dumbledore or Hagrid, but they aren’t here.
I just wander the halls and wait for something interesting to pop out at me. If you wonder around long enough you’re bound
to find something. There’s a portrait of
a knight that insults you every time you walk past. He
followed me through the castle for half an hour one time, falling off his horse and
tripping over his own armour calling me a cowardly cur for not staying to fight. You know, I don’t think he knows he’s a
portrait.”
Draco head
tilted to the side as Harry talked, trying to imagine what was so interesting about a
clumsy knight that insulted everyone, but couldn’t quite wrap his head around the
idea. “You’re peculiar.”
“I’m
what?”
“If any
of the portraits at home were to go around insulted everyone they met, father would have
them burned. You talk about it like its some
game.”
Harry knitted
his brows together, “Well, I don’t think he means anything by it.”
“Show me.”
He nearly told
him to sod off, but decided that it probably wasn’t the wisest decision he could
make, so instead he started off towards the stairs in the general direction he thought Sir
Cadogan’s portrait was. Up one set of
stairs, down a hall, up another, and then, “Halt, you cur!”
Although Harry
was fairly sure he was well and lost, at least he had managed to find the portrait. Draco was standing in front of Sir Cadogan, staring
at the little night curiously. “This is
him, then?”
“Who art
thou?” When Draco said nothing, Sir Cadogan brandished his sword awkwardly. “Scurvy nave, speak or I shall run thee
through.”
Draco stepped
back for a moment and a strange little laugh escaped from between his closed lips. Before he could stop himself, Draco started
laughing. “Run me through? You’re a
portrait, how exactly are you going to run me through?”
“You
doubt Sir Cadogan? Have at thee!” Cadogan tripped over his feet and fell on his face,
armour clinking heavily.
Draco looked
at Harry, his eyes shiny with tears of laughter. “You
were right, Potter, he is amusing.”
They spent the
better part of two hours in the hall with Draco talking to Sir Cadogan, occasionally
walking around to see if he would indeed be followed.
Draco finally seemed to get bored and wanted to go and do something else. He suggested playing a game that he had brought
with him and since Harry couldn’t think of anything better to do, and since he had to
entertain the guest, he agreed and they went back to Snape’s quarters.
The game
turned out to be something called Exploding Snap, which Harry found interesting and fun
and wished he had someone else to play with besides Draco.
They ate dinner late as Snape had been busy in his lab and forgotten the
time, and they ate in silence. Harry once
again found himself almost envious of the rich food that Draco ate with the Professor, but
refused to say anything. He insisted to
himself that the disgruntled look on Snape’s face when he dipped a corner of his
hamburger in catsup was far more satisfying than chicken covered in a dark cream sauce; he
just wished it didn’t smell quite so good.
He didn’t
say anything about Draco sleeping in his room, and he didn’t complain when they spent
an hour playing chess before they were dismissed for bed.
He did, however, lay awake in bed for a long time.
____________________
“Potter.” Draco elbowed the shifting boy beside him. For the past hour Harry had been twisting and
turning and mumbling to himself. He had
already stolen the quilt and Draco would be damned if he were going to be knocked out of
the bed as well.
Harry kicked
out and caught Draco in the shin. “Potter!”
He sat up,
expecting some kind of response, but instead he was very surprised to see that Harry was
still asleep. His lips were moving and a fine
sheen of sweat covered his brow. Draco leaned
in to put his ear to Harry’s mouth, curious as to what the other boy was saying. He was sure he heard “uncle” right before
the back of Harry’s hand connected with his temple.
Stumbling off
the bed, Draco pressed his hand to his throbbing temple.
“Potter!” He shouted as loudly as he could and Harry sat up in the
bed with a yelp.
Draco opened
to mouth to tell him off, but something in Harry’s eyes made him stop. He’d never seen someone look that terrified,
his eyes were near falling out of his head, he was breathing in short gasps, and his
entire body was shaking.
There was a
short pause, in which Harry’s breathing became deep and drawn and he seemed to be
calming down somewhat, before a loud knock on the door sent Harry tumbling off his side of
the bed and out of Draco’s site.
“What is
going on in there?!”
____________________
Harry had been
dreaming, he knew that now. He had not,
however, known that when he was awoken to someone yelling “Potter” in a way that
distinctly reminded him of his uncle. As he
shot up in his bed he had honestly thought that he was back at the Dursleys and that he
had, once again, woken his uncle who would be coming any moment to make him regret it.
When the door
didn’t immediately slam open, he felt his heart slowly calm, just enough for him to
realise that he was not lying in his cupboard, but on a large, soft bed and that he wasn’t
back at Number 4 Privet Drive, but Hogwarts, a place where Uncle Vernon could not get to
him. He was just beginning to calm down when a
sudden, thundering knock shocked him into falling off the bed and onto the floor below.
Out of
instinct, Harry curled his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms protectively
around them when he heard Snape bellowing from the other side of the door.
“What is
going on in there?!”
There was only
a scarce moment of silence before he heard Draco answer, “It’s nothing. Potter had a nightmare, but he’s awake now.”
“He had
better be.”
Snape opened
the door and Harry curled further in on himself, waiting for the bomb to drop. Instead, he was very surprised when Snape knelt
down and put a hand on his forehead. He gave a
contemplative, “hm,” before standing Harry up and setting him on the bed.
Draco watched
curiously, but said nothing. After Snape was
satisfied that Harry was so tightly tucked in that he couldn’t move, he crossed his
arms over his chest and sneered. “You
appear to be running a mild fever and I do not wish to call Madame Pomfrey back from her
holiday simply because you could not keep yourself in good health. You will be staying in bed tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”
When Harry
nodded mutely, Snape walked over to Draco and put a hand on his shoulder. “You will be sleeping in my room tonight. I don’t want you to catch anything.”
Draco silently
added ‘or my father will skin you alive,’ as he followed Snape out the door.
____________________
Harry woke the
next morning feeling very refreshed and restless. He
wanted to get up and out of the dungeons as quickly as possible, but remembered what Snape
had told him. The only problem with that was
he had to go the bathroom and the only one in the entire suite was across the living room.
After a few
minutes of contemplation, Harry came to the conclusion that Snape couldn’t get mad at
him for getting out of bed to go to the bathroom, but he would probably get very mad if
Harry wet himself, which he was likely to do if he didn’t get up soon. He got up and slipped on the little slippers
Professor McGonagall had bought for him when she caught him sneaking around barefoot at
night.
He stopped at
the door and heard Snape telling Draco something, but couldn’t make out the words. Harry couldn’t quite explain why he was so
nervous at the thought of Snape. His chest
kept tightening up and he felt the urge to bite his lip like he did when he lived at the
Dursleys. He really, really wished there was a
bathroom attached to his room. Slowly, he
opened the door and tiptoed out, trying his best to act normal and be quiet at the same
time. He didn’t get two steps.
“What are
you doing out of bed?”
Harry stopped
and turned to face Snape, clasping his hands nervously behind his back so that he could
fidget without being seen. “I have to go
to the bathroom, Professor.”
“Then go.”
He wanted to
say that was what he had been doing, and he wanted to say it in the same snappy tone that
Snape insisted on using with him, but instead, he shuffled quickly across the room and
locked the door behind him.
When he came
out again, Draco was badgering Snape about something.
He was clasping his hands together and, far from saying please, was simply
trying to convince him. “Come on, it won’t
be that bad.”
“No.”
“He doesn’t
look poorly, anymore.”
Oh, so that
was it. Draco didn’t want to spend the
day alone. “It doesn’t matter if he
looks poorly now, he was poorly last night and you don’t need to be exposed to it.”
“We’ll
only go out for a bit.”
“Draco!”
“Severus!”
There was a
thirty second pause before Snape sighed. “Fine,
but be back in an hour for lunch.”
Harry could
hardly believe it. If he had tried that he
would have been locked in his room until after school started. Draco, however, seemed to find getting his way
perfectly normal. He sat up and said, “yes,
sir,” and dragged Harry into the bedroom without so much as a thank you.
“Well, go
on, get dressed. We’ve only an hour.”
Despite the
abundance of energy he’d had a short while ago, Harry very much wanted to say that he
was too tired to do anything, just to spite the bratty blonde, but getting out of the
dungeons was too tempting. He pulled on a pair
of slacks and one of his older looking shirts.
When the
Weasley twins had decided to corrupt young Mr. Potter, Professor McGonagall had fought
them with everything she had. She fought for
two months to keep Harry from wandering off with them, but in the end it didn’t
matter how hard she tried, they always found a way to convince him that it was alright. It also didn’t matter where they took him; he
always ended up ruining his clothes. So she
had bought him a cheap shirt and designated one of his already ruined pairs of slacks as
the clothes he was to wear when going off with anyone other than faculty.
Although the
rules didn’t apply during summer holiday and most of his clothes were starting to fit
a little tight, anyway, he got the feeling Draco was planning something. It was the same feeling he'd gotten when the
Weasley twins had planted an exploding snap that they’d set to go off
It wasn’t
until they finally made it out of the dungeon that Harry found out what Draco had planned. “Do you fly?”
Harry’s
first response, born from years of muggle raising, was to say, ‘do I what?’ but
he stopped himself as he realised that Draco had meant flying on a broom. “No, Professor McGonagall says that it isn’t
safe and that I have to wait till first year when Madame Hooch can properly teach me.”
“And you’re
going to obey her, like a good little puppy?”
“Of
course not!” Harry instantly regretted the rash remark.
He’d planned to try and sneak into the broom shed, yes, but he hadn’t
had time and, besides, when it came down to it he didn’t think he wanted to make her
angry by breaking such a simple rule. Professor
McGonagall was scary when she was angry.
“Well,
then, do you know where the brooms are?”
Harry chewed
the inside of his lip nervously, “Yes.”
“Good.”
Draco opened
the main door and walked outside eagerly. Harry
held in a sigh and followed. He wasn’t
all that sure he wanted to be doing this, but he felt as though backing down now would be
cowardly, so he followed. Once outside, he led
the way towards the Quidditch pitch and the little wooden shack that sat unassumingly
beside it.
“Is tha’
‘Arry?” Before he could even turn fully around, he found himself scooped up from
behind in a crushing embrace.
“Hagrid!”
He couldn’t help laughing, despite that fact that he couldn’t draw a breath. “Hagrid, let go! Can’t breath!”
He thumped to
the ground and turned around; wrapping his arms less than half around the large man in a
hug. “You’re back!”
“Took
less time than I thought it would.” He ruffled Harry’s hair affectionately,
nearly knocking him over in the process. He
looked past Harry at the blonde boy standing behind him, his arms crossed at his chest,
and a perturbed look plastered on his pale face. “And
who might this be?”
Harry had to
keep himself from scrunching his nose up in distaste.
“That’s Draco Malfoy. Professor
Snape says I have to show him around and he wanted to... see the Quidditch pitch.”
He heard Draco
shuffle nervously behind him. Hagrid raised an
eyebrow, “Malfoy, eh?” After a moment he nodded at Draco. “’Allo there, young Malfoy. You enjoying your stay, then?”
Draco huffed. “Hardly.”
“He’s
only here for two weeks. You said you were
going to be gone till term started, what happened?”
Hagrid let out
a belly laugh, “Aren’t you glad to see me?”
Harry nodded,
“Of course!”
“Well
then.” Hagrid leaned down. “I’ve
been off on business for Dumbledore.”
“What
kind of business?”
“The
secret kind.”
“What
kind of secret?”
“Never
you mind that.” Hagrid stood up and put a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Now, then, what would you say ter somethin’
warm ter drink.”
Harry nearly
laughed in relief. “I’d love it!”
-tbc-