Proving Himself Still
Title: Proving Himself Still
Rating: NC-17
Genre: General/Romance/Humour
Length: 14286
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warning: Light watersports
Summary: Harry Potter says he trusts Draco and, naturally, no one agrees with his decision. Draco's rather worried about being stuck with a mental Potter and the fact that he does not care about Potter.
Note: Written for the beautiful aldebaran1977, who wanted a sequel. I'm very glad you pushed me to write this because I had fun. ♥
Beta-ed by the talented kcstories.
This is a sequel to Proving Himself, which I highly recommend reading to understand this one.
"Harry! You're back," Granger said warmly, having looked up from some thick tome the moment they'd stepped through the tent flap. Draco was disappointed to note that the tent was as big as it looked from the outside. Why didn't they have magic tents?
Ron Weasley popped his head up from the table, face creased from the book he had been using as a pillow. His brow furrowed as he surveyed them. Draco let a puff of amused laughter leave his mouth.
"Yeah," Potter said. He thrust their clasped hands out. "We're tied together."
Granger cleared her throat pointedly. "Well, erm, okay. Untie it."
Potter gave her a look and she started, hopping up from her seat and striding over to them. She placed her wand to the rope and must have gone through all the spells in her cramped, Mudblood mind, but still the rope refused to budge.
"Harry," Weasley said cautiously as Granger glared at the rope.
Potter met his gaze and Draco visibly winced. Here it comes.
"Why are you holding hands with Malfoy?"
Potter frowned down at their hands. Granger moved back to give him space. "I don't know."
Draco's eyebrows must have been in his hair. He loosened his grip but Potter held fast, still frowning at their hands. "Let go, Potter," Draco hissed and Potter did, yanking his hand away as if it was scorching hot.
"I think Harry needs to get back together with Ginny," Granger whispered. Weasley nodded, eyes still on them. Draco wished they would mind their own business.
"So, why's Malfoy here anyway?" Granger asked.
"He was look--"
"I can speak for myself, Potter," Draco snapped.
Potter raised his eyebrows and nodded.
"I came to find you sorry lot but you idiots didn't set up camp in the originally planned space so Potter got us lost."
Always ready to defend his friend, Weasley jumped in. "Harry doesn't have anything to do with you getting lost."
Draco's blood boiled. Weasley had to be the daftest person he'd ever met, and this was coming from someone who was friends with Crabbe and Goyle.
"It doesn't matter," Potter injected before Draco could form his lips around a scathing remark. Sourly, Draco crossed his arms, liking the way Potter's arm had to bend with him and appreciating the way Potter's body heat felt against him even more. Then he noticed Granger giving him a dirty look and decided that was by far the best reaction.
"Draco was --"
Once again, Draco interrupted. Potter seemed intent on being a twat. "Draco?"
"Well, yeah," Potter flustered, turning his wrist against Draco's chest like he wanted to squirm away, but he didn't. "I though -- since we -- um."
Weasley and Granger were staring in confusion at him. Draco was glaring but he wasn't sure why. Did he care if the Order knew he had shot his load because of Potter?
Well, one thing for sure was that he didn't want word getting out that he'd been turned on by Potter relieving himself. That would be almost as embarrassing as the time it had suddenly become public knowledge that his grandfather liked to fuck house-elves.
His mother liked to say the Malfoys were a bunch of kinky freaks (she reasoned that she's a Black by blood). Draco didn't like to think about it because he didn't want to know what his parents got up to that made her say so in the first place.
Luckily for Potter, and possibly Draco because he didn't have to contemplate the matter any longer, Lupin entered the tent, book in hand.
"I believe I found something. Come here, you two." He curled a finger and Potter pulled Draco over to the werewolf.
Lupin's fingers wrapped around their wrists, pulling them in front of him. Draco resisted shivering away. "Uro Apsolvo Dilabor," he chanted, waving his wand in a strange pattern over their palms.
The small rope fell to the tent floor, burning red before turning a burnt brown.
Draco cocked his head and offered a nod amongst Potter's gleeful thanks.
Lupin shrugged off Potter's gratitude and said, "We're having a quick meeting about the wand so you three," -- he looked away from Potter to spare Weasley and Granger a look -- "come along."
Draco crossed his arms and tapped his foot in anger but no one seemed to notice because they all headed out of the tent. "I helped."
Weasley and Potter halted, turning to face him.
"So?" Weasley said simply.
But Potter jerked his head towards the tent entrance. Draco followed a few steps behind them in bemusement. It was that simple?
It wasn't.
Before they got to the tent with voices spilling out of it, Potter wrenched away from his angry friends and grabbed Draco's forearm, pulling him around to the side.
They stood there for the longest time. Just when Draco was about to shove Potter against the tent, because he wanted to know what Muggle tents did when that happened (wizard ones were like running into a brick wall), Potter waved his wand and muttered a spell.
"So no one can hear us. All they'll hear is buzzing," he explained.
Draco nodded. He didn't particularly care. Well, he did, but if Potter didn't get to the point soon he'd...do nothing. He frowned. What was there for him to do when Potter's little crew was stationed behind the tent wall?
"Look," Potter started, and then sighed heavily. His hands stretched between them and hovered over Draco's wrist, as if he was afraid to touch him after they'd been tied together for so long. Not that he'd held any qualms against peeing on him.
And suddenly Draco understood. He smiled, laughter almost issuing forth. Potter, being the silly Gryffindor sod he was, assumed that their mistake back by the bush had meant something. It was to be expected, especially after Draco himself had felt warm feelings when holding Potter's hand. But that was all to do with the aftermath of sex. Poor Potter, who'd probably never shagged anyone before, didn't know that.
Feeling generous, and wanting it dealt with as soon as possible, Draco (with some difficulty) turned his smile sympathetic. "No worries, Potter. It didn't mean a thing back there. It was just...the heat of the moment. A mistake. That's all. It's not like you had actual feelings for me. You're not a virgin, are you?" He couldn't help the snort that followed his question.
Potter's expression sobered him quickly. "What are you talking about?" A blush coated his face but by the way his jaw was set and fists curled it looked more from anger than embarrassment. "Oh."
Draco smirked. "Yes."
Potter crossed his arms stubbornly. "Well, if that's want you want to tell yourself. I wasn't even thinking about it," he said, almost making it sound like an accusation.
Draco flushed. "I'm not telling myself that. I'm telling you before any silly notions enter your head."
"Why the fuck would I get notions like that?"
"I don't know! You're Harry Potter, king of daftness."
"At least I don't get turned on by someone pissing."
Draco widened his eyes and raised his hands in mocking. "Big deal. You're the only one who knows."
"I could tell."
"But you won't," Draco replied smugly. "You're part of the whole thing too."
"Maybe I don't care if they know."
"Obviously. You're the one trusting your mentor's killer."
Potter's mouth fell open. "You mean Snape? What about yourself? You had a hand in his death. Not to mention you nearly killed Ron and Katie Bell. At least Snape is helping us, has a bargaining tool. What do you have? Nothing! What have you done? Again, nothing! All you are is a nosey, annoying prat who's not worth keeping around."
He'd walked right into that one but it didn't matter. He had been wrong before. "Then why don't you kick me out? Let me fend for myself, huh, if that's how you feel? Because I'd sooner do that than be stuck with a bunch of Neanderthals like you lot!"
Potter's face fell. "I'm sorry." He moved forward, latching onto Draco's wrist this time, but Draco was too fired up.
"Don't touch me!" He jerked away, stumbling and falling against the tent. It gave way under him but Potter waved his wand and Draco was once again standing, the tent still in tact behind him, though he noticed the voices had quieted. He was rather glad Potter had put up that silencing spell.
"You're not useless." Potter pulled him close, crushing Draco's struggling body against him. The utter bastard. "And if you leave I'll fucking track you down and bring you back."
Fuming, Draco brought his knee up and jabbed Potter in the crotch. He stood and surveyed his work as Potter collapsed at his feet. It actually felt wonderful, powerful to have someone rolling at his feet like that. A far distant part of his mind told him he was absolutely brutal for having hit another bloke in such a sensitive area but he was mad and it didn't take much to quell that little voice.
"And why would you bring me back? Because you want to get me naked next time?"
Potter glared up at him, tears brimming in his eyes. "Can't you think of anything else? Not everything revolves around that."
"Obviously," Draco scorned. "It only happened not that long ago."
The leaves crunched as Potter stood, hands snug around his stomach.
"But that's not why you'd want to, ay? No. Because the fact that I'm bloody sexy and make you achingly hard," -- he grabbed Potter's cock roughly, ignoring Potter's cry of pain. He rubbed it, surprised to feel it hardening under his fingers -- "isn't a good enough reason to put me back under safety," he said, using Potter's previous words against him.
"No," Draco continued, eyes glittering as he leaned closer, lips brushing over Potter's as he spat, "The only reason you took me in was because Dumbledore was going to. And that's the only reason you'd go after me. I heard you reassuring Weasley and Granger after you'd vouched for me and I thought 'Potter's not that stupid. He must have some alternative motive.' But that's not the case, is it? You're just a backstabbing idiot!"
"My god, I hate you!" Potter wailed, kissing him brutally.
To say Draco was surprised was an understatement. He was so surprised there was no word for it; none that he knew anyway. He just kissed Potter back as brutally and it was as if they were trying to bruise each other's lips because it wasn't even really a kiss. They were mashing their faces together, doing damage.
And Potter sounded really funny when he was mewling like that. Draco chuckled. Then he full out laughed. Trust Potter to make this whole situation insane and incomprehensible.
Potter pulled back and there was an odd grin on his face. "You're not going to run back to Voldemort, are you?"
The question was so far out there that it just seemed right. Draco shook his head. "I'm not an idiot like you."
Potter nodded, twisted his hands, and nodded again. "We're looking for Horcruxes. Can I trust you?"
"Only an idiot would say something first and then ask about trust," Draco pointed out because it was true and if that was how Potter worked his little crew of followers could all be Death Eaters in disguise. Except Draco would know about at least one of them, then.
"So I'm an idiot. We've decided that." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "They're all going to call me an idiot when they find out I'm telling you everything."
Potter surveyed him and Draco stayed silent because he really wanted to know. Plus there were so many things that wanted to fall out of his mouth and none of them would get him any closer to finding out the truth.
Potter took a deep breath. "Voldemort made seven Horcruxes. We've found four. There's still two. The last one is himself. Horcruxes are parts of his soul that he implanted into an object or living thing. He can't be killed unless all bits of his soul are destroyed. Get it?"
Draco blinked. And blinked some more. Potter was shite at explaining. He'd have to read up on it sometime. Or get Granger to explain. As much as he hated her and her Mudblood-ness, she was smart. "So, let me get this straight. The Dark Lord put his soul in objects --"
"And Nagini."
"--And you are going around destroying bits of his soul so that he is not immortal. Then you will kill him. And that wand contains a part of his soul. Correct?"
Potter smiled. "Yep."
"You're suicidal," Draco decided, throwing his hands up in the air. He didn't particularly care if Potter was suicidal and he already gathered as much anyway, if Potter's actions back behind that tree when the Dark Lord wasn't two metres behind them said anything.
But Potter was going to bring him along for the ride.
"Want to join my team?"
A tanned hand was thrust out in Draco's vision. He stared at it for the longest time, eyeing the scraps and creases. The gesture hit the sentimental part of him that was recalling that day on the train when Potter had refused his hand, but he let go of that notion and grasped Potter's hand.
It wasn't even a fair deal, really.
If Draco refused now, he'd be offered a bed in Azkaban. When Potter had refused his hand all those years ago, he was offered the friendship of Ron Weasley. Then again, Draco would rather the bed in Azkaban than friends with Weasley.
"Coming, Harry?" someone called.
Potter removed the silencing spell and, still holding Draco's hand, led him to the tent flap. He let go the moment they reached it and Draco realised that Potter had never made him promise his trust, but he didn't say anything, just followed Potter in and prepared himself for the uproar.
"That's Malfoy," Lovegood stated, twirling the tip of her wand in a cup of tea. Draco raised his eyebrows and surveyed the group. Potter really knew how to pick them. Besides the ones he already knew about there were the Weasley twins, who probably harmed more than helped, and Neville Longbottom. Adding Lovegood and Longbottom to a crew had to be about the stupidest idea ever. So of course Potter would do it.
Everyone had looked up at Lovegood's words. Weasley and Granger were whispering harshly to each other.
"Why'd you bring him?" one of the twins asked.
"Because you know we're talking about things he doesn't know," the other added.
"And what were you two talking about?"
"Because someone tried to knock the tent down," the other finished.
Draco gave them a dirty look.
The first one smirked and Draco was glad to see it didn't work nearly as well as when he did it. Something about the multitude of freckles, he decided. "Giving him what he deserves?"
Draco laughed. Everyone stared at him. It was funny, though. He had been the one to kick Potter in the balls. What had Potter done to him in return? Kiss him.
Potter mumbled something unintelligible then raised his head to them. "Dra-Malfoy is part of our group now. I told him about the Horcruxes."
"Oh, Harry," Granger moaned, dropping her head to Weasley's shoulder. Weasley's face was turning an alarming shade of red.
Lupin seemed torn between chastising Potter and getting the meeting underway. He shuffled his feet for the longest time before speaking. "I hope you trust him fully."
Potter bit his lip and gave Draco a side-long look, as if he was remembering Draco had never promised that he could be trusted. "Yeah, I trust him."
Weasley slammed his fists on the table they were all sitting around. "But why? Does this have something to do with the fact that you two were holding hands?" he accused.
Draco was amused. Was this how Potter's little crew always ran their meetings? No wonder they had set up camp in the wrong spot.
"We were tied together!" Potter shouted to the interested group at large. "Look, I trust him and I already told him so unless you're going to Obliviate him it's too late."
Some of them looked like they'd much rather Obliviate him. A twin even pulled his wand out.
"We trust Harry, right?" Longbottom hesitated. "So, if Harry trusts Malfoy he should be all right."
"Thank you, Neville," Harry said, surprised. Draco was too. "C'mon." He grabbed Draco's wrist and tugged him to the table. Lovegood pulled her wand out of her tea and conjured a garishly red chair with moth holes. He didn't know if it was because she was voicing her opinion on him or she was just odd. Probably both.
He made Harry sit in the moth-ridden chair and he grabbed the normal one.
The meeting was rather boring. Draco was more interested in trailing his pointer finger in circles over the table, clicking his nails against it. Halfway through, Potter's hand landed on his, silencing him, but it stayed there much too long to not be noticed. And it was noticed. How Potter ignored all the questioning looks was beyond him.
All they did was try to locate where the wand was on their large map. Eventually they had narrowed it down to an eight kilometre wide area and immediately set off, Potter in the lead with Weasley and Granger, once again leaving Draco to suffer at the hands of people who Potter had angered with his choices.
One twin grinned at him, the other walking in step beside him so that he was surrounded by red and freckles. Ugh. "George. You remember me? I helped Harry beat you up back in your fifth year."
"Yeah. And you got suspended from Quidditch. Notice I didn't?"
George curled his fists and raised them but Fred was laughing. "I never did get to beat you up. Reckon I might still get to."
Draco braced himself, ready to kick them in the balls too because now that he'd done it on the person he tolerated most in the Order, it would be nothing to do on everyone else. Moody especially could use a swift kick there.
"Hey," Longbottom interrupted. "Harry'll get mad."
Draco sneered at him. He didn't need a near-squib's help.
Then Lovegood waltzed over, completing the worst moment of Draco's day. Maybe. It was hard to top being tied to a suicidal bastard whose idea of a good strategy was jumping out in front of the Dark Lord.
"Not to mention," she said, pointing to different rocks on the ground, "that fighting in the woods brings out halusedus and you don't want them."
"Why not?" George asked, humouring her.
Draco walked faster, out of the Weasley sandwich, which brought too many disturbing images to mind and he'd have to bash his head against one of those stones and hope a halusedus came out and ate his toes, because that's what Lovegood was saying. Though how losing his toes would help his brain he didn't know.
"I hate your friends," he voiced the moment he had passed Lupin and shoved Weasley out of the way to walk next to Potter.
"And we hate you," Weasley growled, shoving him back. For the next fifteen minutes they kept shoving. There was nothing else to do. And Weasley let lose this little girlish squeal every five pushes so it was quite funny.
Lupin sighed in irritation and Granger gave him a sympathetic look. Draco almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Perhaps if he was someone he liked and not a werewolf he would have actually sympathized with him because he was the only adult in the little group. As much as Granger liked to pretend to be, she wasn't.
"We're almost there," Potter informed them. Draco looked around but he didn't recognize anything. It was all trees and briers and dirt. Though they had located their blasted trail so they were at least heading in the right direction.
"Good," said Lupin. He motioned for everyone to move together. "Now, they already know we are coming and I'm positive they are still there. So I --"
"How do they know?" Longbottom interrupted.
"Malfoy's Dark Mark," Potter said, hand closing over Draco's Mark through his shirt. Draco glanced at him but Potter didn't acknowledge him except for rubbing his thumb over the Mark softly.
Longbottom flushed. The Weasley twins were eyeing Draco in a way he didn't understand but knew boded ill.
"Yes." Lupin waved his hand at them. "So make sure your wand is out, defensive spells in --"
"Defensive?" Draco scoffed. Potter's hand fell away from him. "Offensive is better."
Lupin raised his eyebrows and Draco fell silent, glaring off into the darkness. He thought it plain stupid to go out when it was so dark but the moon was high and everyone else had argued they had to do it soon. Not that they had really argued. No one had listened to what Draco said. But that was to be expected.
"Get spells in your mind," Lupin continued. "And try to get to the Horcrux but watch yourself more. There's probably a lot of Death Eaters there now."
Everyone clutched their wands closer. Longbottom was staring at his, lips moving frantically as if the wand was his life. In a way it was.
Draco tried not to be scared, but he was. At least he wasn't tied to a suicidal Potter this time. No, he was in the dark where a Death Eater or the Dark Lord himself could be a mere metre away, lurking in a shadow. He was royally fucked.
Potter took the first steps, Weasley, Granger, and Lupin following closely behind. The Weasley twins moved next, circling around the cluster of trees. Draco looked at the remaining two. Longbottom met his gaze, horror showed plainly. Draco sneered and faced the trees. Knowing what was waiting there made it even worse.
"Oh-ho!"
Draco whipped around to glare at Lovegood. Something whizzed past Draco's ear, missing her because she dropped to the ground to pick up a slug.
"Watch out," Longbottom warned, shaking. Draco couldn't decide which one of them he wanted to glare at more.
Suddenly there was shouting and spells flying out of the trees. The three of them looked on in surprise. The rest had entered without them. Draco was tempted to stay outside of it all but Longbottom and Lovegood, with the damned slug in her hand, walked towards the trees and he was not going to be worse than them.
Though it didn't really matter because they all hated him anyway and why should he care what happened to them?
The moment Draco walked through a gap in the trees was the moment he expected to see his life flash before his eyes. How could he be so foolish? But he didn't. He was firing spells left and right, not sure who he was getting, but Weasley sent him a leg-locker curse so he figured he had hit him at one point.
He fell to the ground, struggling to reach his wand, but there were feet in the way. It was much too confined a spot to be duelling in. He stretched out, hissing when someone stepped on his wrist, and he was so close to his wand. He ended up grabbing someone's robes.
That someone turned out to be the Dark Lord.
"Why, what have we here?" he cackled.
Draco couldn't move. He was still clutching the Dark Lord's robes and he was going to die and he hadn't even finished school yet! He'd only ever had sex with Potter, if one could call that sex, and once with Pansy. Life hated him, he was sure. It was all one giant conspiracy against him.
"Siding with these fools?" the Dark Lord tittered, eyes turning redder. He pulled out his wand and Draco squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he should roll away, scream, do something, but he was frozen. Why wasn't anyone helping him? Or attacking the Dark Lord, at least. They had to see him.
"Avada --"
"No!" someone yelped and then a body landed on Draco, rolling him away, but not far.
His fingers had barely let go of the Dark Lord's robes when a high-pitched voice finished, "Kedavra!"
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, tucking his head against Potter's (who else would have thought to save him but the person with a saving people complex?) neck. But something splintered behind him, sending wood chips into his back.
Potter was on his feet in an instant, staring at the broken wand in his hands. "Leave!" he barked, grabbing Draco's shirt collar and tugging on him.
The Dark Lord let out a howl, pointing his wand at Potter now. Draco snatched his own wand and wobbled to his feet, shaking as badly as Longbottom had been. Potter latched onto him and Draco had the frightening notion that Potter wanted to die kissing him but he twisted them around, a loud crack filling Draco's ears.
He landed, as if in a daze, outside the doors of Grimmauld Place.
He laughed.
Other cracks followed and the rest of the group were standing around.
Someone shoved Draco into the house roughly, causing Draco to cry out because they had shoved a splinter deeper into his flesh. He rubbed at his lower back sourly as the person who had shoved him, Granger, rushed to the window, pulled the moth-eaten curtain out of the way, and peered out anxiously.
"What's she doing?" Draco inquired as he unlocked his legs.
No one paid him any attention. The rest of the Order was running to them and the ones who understood were staring at the destroyed Horcrux, shouting in glee. Draco looked at them in disgust. There went his glory.
Granger halted beside him and he resisted the impulse to move away. "I hope Voldemort didn't trace you here," she muttered, giving him a look that made it quite clear she would blame him if that was the case.
"What's it matter?" Draco asked, in the mood to argue since he had gone through all that life-threatening trouble to be pushed aside by an old wand. "It's not like the Dark Lord can see this place."
Granger huffed. "Well, obviously. And just as obviously, they can ambush when someone enters or exits Headquarters."
Draco wanted to hit her. It made him miss Crabbe and Goyle. They would have had no qualms attacking her for him. He wondered what they ended up mixed in. Where they Death Eaters now? Or did the Dark Lord consider them to dim and young to join his ranks?
Thinking of them also made him recall Pansy, which he shouldn't have done. Pansy had always been a soft spot for him, one of the few. She had been his first and best friend, his first love, and his admirer. He had neglected her all throughout sixth year and then disappeared. He wished he could send her an owl, but it was too dangerous. There was no doubt in his mind that she would only join the Dark Lord if he singled her out because of her reaction to him being a Death Eater, but one could never be sure.
"I say we set it on fire!" one of the twins yelled.
The other chimed in with, "Start the fireplace with it!"
A steak of red bounded down the stairs, sounding like a Hippogriff, and Ginny Weasley flung herself into Potter's arms. Draco clenched his jaw. He'd forgotten about her and Potter. They weren't dating, everyone knew that because Weasley liked to grouse about it on a weekly basis, but did Potter still have feelings for her? Could he be swayed? Was he even gay?
Ron Weasley caught his gaze and held it. He raised his eyebrows and jerked his head to the still embracing Weasley girl and Potter.
Draco gave him a disdainful look and him a two finger salute. Weasley actually laughed, and Draco got the feeling that he was being laughed at.
"What's it about and how'd you get it?" Tonks asked from her position in Lupin's arms. Slowly Potter's group, which Draco refused to be categorized under except that he now knew something that the rest of the Order didn't -- ha, Moody! -- quieted.
"Oh," Mrs Weasley said. "The secret."
Girl Weasley pulled away from Potter and pouted in a way that almost made Draco feel bad for Potter. Almost. There was also the fact that Potter was grinning and her and didn't seem disgusted.
"But it's good. Very good. This," -- he held out the wand -- "brings us very close to killing Voldemort."
Draco noticed that about half of the Order shuddered and it surprised him. Why hadn't he noticed it before? How could they fight the Dark Lord if they couldn't stand to hear his name? Even Potter's sidekick, Weasley, shuddered.
Lovegood's voice originated from near the troll leg umbrella stand. "It's the last one, isn't it?"
Draco finally looked on in interest.
"Yes, yes," Granger said, distracted because Ron Weasley was intent on twisting her bush around his fingers, thereby making it worse. "Just two left."
"Don't see why Snape can't get the one," Weasley muttered, yanking a little too harshly on Granger's hair -- she grumbled and batted his hand away. "Make it look like an accident. Can't be that hard."
Potter sighed heavily, as if they always had an argument about Snape and they probably did -- Draco knew he'd have a problem with it if he cared. Hell, he had a problem with it and he didn't care.
"Look, we'll talk later," Potter ground out, apparently noticing that most of the Order was in the room now, staring intently at them.
A harsh wind suddenly blew against Draco. Mundungus Fletcher stumbled through the front door, nearly banging into Draco, who scowled and contemplated cursing him.
He absolutely hated Fletcher. Fletcher was the type of plebeian, scrub-from-the-street that everyone's parents warned them against. He belched and flatulated like it was going out of style, slept during the meetings, and generally made an arse of himself.
Sometimes Draco really didn't understand what qualified to make someone an Order member. They had quite an assortment already. A werewolf, metamorphous, insane people, wimps, idiots, thieves, even a Death Eater. Though the latter was former because from what Draco understood Potter was the only one who listened to Snape.
The only one stupid enough.
"Ay, there, what's that?" Fletcher said, stumbling forward and seizing the wand from Potter. Draco caught a strong whiff of alcohol, reminding him of the months right after his father had been sent to Azkaban. Of course, his mother didn't drink beer.
"Give that back," Potter snarled, his face going alarmingly red. Draco was rather disappointed. He'd never dragged that type of reaction out of Potter. All he had to do was grab a broken Horcrux?
Fletcher waved it around, the splinter holding it together breaking. Potter snatched the fallen half. "You made this?"
Potter held out his hand, absolutely fuming. Longbottom had somehow moved up to them and placed a hand on Potter's shoulder, calming him slightly.
"No. It's real," Ginny Weasley said, beaming at Potter.
"Give it back to him," Bill Weasley said, rolling his eyes.
Draco cocked his head. He was missing something. Potter shouldn't be so angry about this.
Fletcher snorted. "This isn't real. It's just wood." He tossed it into Potter's hands.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Potter hissed, cradling the pieces of wood rather pathetically.
Fletcher shrugged. "Whatever. But I know my materials." He then shoved through them all to the basement steps.
Draco realized the front door was still open and closed it, irritated. He really hated Mundungus Fletcher. The man was a swine at the worst.
"May I see," Mr Weasley asked, holding a freckled hand out.
Surprisingly, Potter handed it over. Of course, Weasleys would be able to hold anything. Draco found himself wondering what all Ginny Weasley had held. Did the two of them ever have sex?
Mr Weasley pointed his wand at it and murmured, "Prior Incantato."
Nothing happened.
"There's nothing even in it," Lupin said, having walked over to investigate. "No hair or heartstring or anything."
A small, strangled sound fell from Potter's lips. "What do you mean?"
The spell was said again, this time by Lupin. He looked at Potter, holding the wand -- stick? -- to him "There was never a spell cast with this wand."
Granger gasped, rushing over to them.
"If it's a wand," Draco scoffed.
The majority of the Order, even the ones who didn't understand what was going on -- especially those, actually -- were giving Draco suspicious looks.
Of course, how could he forget? This all had to be his fault, right?
Potter noticed and backed up to stand next to him. Draco scowled. He didn't need Potter's help.
"I want to say something," he told the room at large. Ron Weasley buried his heavily freckled face in his hands. Granger huffed at being interrupted from talking. "Draco --"
Draco cleared his throat. He hadn't given Potter permission to use his first name. However, Potter ignored him.
"-- had went out looking for us. He helped, a lot, and I want you all to stop treating him like he's the butt of our problems. He doesn't do much of anything so it's not like you can blame him. In fact, he helped us find this...thing. So treat him like he's one of us because I trust him. And I don't want to hear that you're blaming him for stuff beyond his talents. Got it?"
Draco was appalled. Unable to say a thing. He had just been defended and insulted at the same time. By an arsehole who needed to die! Draco pursed his lips, silently plotting Harry Potter's imminent and highly painful death.
"You forgot to mention the most important part," one of the twins prompted.
"He's now part of your selected group," the other explained.
Potter shrugged and stared defiantly at the rest of the group. Everyone looked rather stunned and disappointed. Moody was glowering at Draco, as if it was his fault Potter was an idiot. He would never have trusted himself if he were in Potter's position.
Ginny Weasley was the first to speak. "But he's Malfoy! He's a Death Eater! You never paid him any attention before." Mrs Weasley elbowed her.
Flushed, Granger interrupted, shoving her face in front of Potter. "It all makes sense now!" she breathed, heels bouncing. Over her shoulder, Draco saw the Order was scandalised, no doubt thinking she was talking about Potter's abrupt trust in him.
"I mean, really, why would Voldemort leave the real one there when he knew we would be coming back for it? Huh? He's not that thick. He replaced it so that if on the off chance we got a hold of it, it wouldn't be the real thing!"
She looked much too excited for someone who'd just found out they'd gone through all that trouble for a fake Horcrux. Potter stared blankly at her and she must have realized because she let out a low moan.
"A meeting, I think," Lupin announced, pulling away from a reluctant Tonks. "Come on, you lot."
Granger grabbed Potter and he followed obediently. The rest trudged after. A twin gave Draco a threatening glance then slammed the basement door shut behind him. Fletcher exited soon after.
And Draco was left with a fuming, confused mob of people.
"Told them, but does anyone ever listen?" Fletcher mumbled, drawing attention from those remaining.
Draco took the chance to escape, though he could feel Moody's magical eye watching him. Not for the first time, he wondered if it could travel through walls and if so, how many?
He shut the door behind him and flopped onto the bed, crawling under the blankets without removing his clothes. He should have been angry for not being allowed into the meeting he was now a part of but he was dead tired and the only thing he could think of was Ginny Weasley's reaction when she would find out he was the one who stole her broom and left it behind. It created a funny image. Unfortunately, it was the image he fell asleep to.
Second Half
Rating: NC-17
Genre: General/Romance/Humour
Length: 14286
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warning: Light watersports
Summary: Harry Potter says he trusts Draco and, naturally, no one agrees with his decision. Draco's rather worried about being stuck with a mental Potter and the fact that he does not care about Potter.
Note: Written for the beautiful aldebaran1977, who wanted a sequel. I'm very glad you pushed me to write this because I had fun. ♥
Beta-ed by the talented kcstories.
This is a sequel to Proving Himself, which I highly recommend reading to understand this one.
"Harry! You're back," Granger said warmly, having looked up from some thick tome the moment they'd stepped through the tent flap. Draco was disappointed to note that the tent was as big as it looked from the outside. Why didn't they have magic tents?
Ron Weasley popped his head up from the table, face creased from the book he had been using as a pillow. His brow furrowed as he surveyed them. Draco let a puff of amused laughter leave his mouth.
"Yeah," Potter said. He thrust their clasped hands out. "We're tied together."
Granger cleared her throat pointedly. "Well, erm, okay. Untie it."
Potter gave her a look and she started, hopping up from her seat and striding over to them. She placed her wand to the rope and must have gone through all the spells in her cramped, Mudblood mind, but still the rope refused to budge.
"Harry," Weasley said cautiously as Granger glared at the rope.
Potter met his gaze and Draco visibly winced. Here it comes.
"Why are you holding hands with Malfoy?"
Potter frowned down at their hands. Granger moved back to give him space. "I don't know."
Draco's eyebrows must have been in his hair. He loosened his grip but Potter held fast, still frowning at their hands. "Let go, Potter," Draco hissed and Potter did, yanking his hand away as if it was scorching hot.
"I think Harry needs to get back together with Ginny," Granger whispered. Weasley nodded, eyes still on them. Draco wished they would mind their own business.
"So, why's Malfoy here anyway?" Granger asked.
"He was look--"
"I can speak for myself, Potter," Draco snapped.
Potter raised his eyebrows and nodded.
"I came to find you sorry lot but you idiots didn't set up camp in the originally planned space so Potter got us lost."
Always ready to defend his friend, Weasley jumped in. "Harry doesn't have anything to do with you getting lost."
Draco's blood boiled. Weasley had to be the daftest person he'd ever met, and this was coming from someone who was friends with Crabbe and Goyle.
"It doesn't matter," Potter injected before Draco could form his lips around a scathing remark. Sourly, Draco crossed his arms, liking the way Potter's arm had to bend with him and appreciating the way Potter's body heat felt against him even more. Then he noticed Granger giving him a dirty look and decided that was by far the best reaction.
"Draco was --"
Once again, Draco interrupted. Potter seemed intent on being a twat. "Draco?"
"Well, yeah," Potter flustered, turning his wrist against Draco's chest like he wanted to squirm away, but he didn't. "I though -- since we -- um."
Weasley and Granger were staring in confusion at him. Draco was glaring but he wasn't sure why. Did he care if the Order knew he had shot his load because of Potter?
Well, one thing for sure was that he didn't want word getting out that he'd been turned on by Potter relieving himself. That would be almost as embarrassing as the time it had suddenly become public knowledge that his grandfather liked to fuck house-elves.
His mother liked to say the Malfoys were a bunch of kinky freaks (she reasoned that she's a Black by blood). Draco didn't like to think about it because he didn't want to know what his parents got up to that made her say so in the first place.
Luckily for Potter, and possibly Draco because he didn't have to contemplate the matter any longer, Lupin entered the tent, book in hand.
"I believe I found something. Come here, you two." He curled a finger and Potter pulled Draco over to the werewolf.
Lupin's fingers wrapped around their wrists, pulling them in front of him. Draco resisted shivering away. "Uro Apsolvo Dilabor," he chanted, waving his wand in a strange pattern over their palms.
The small rope fell to the tent floor, burning red before turning a burnt brown.
Draco cocked his head and offered a nod amongst Potter's gleeful thanks.
Lupin shrugged off Potter's gratitude and said, "We're having a quick meeting about the wand so you three," -- he looked away from Potter to spare Weasley and Granger a look -- "come along."
Draco crossed his arms and tapped his foot in anger but no one seemed to notice because they all headed out of the tent. "I helped."
Weasley and Potter halted, turning to face him.
"So?" Weasley said simply.
But Potter jerked his head towards the tent entrance. Draco followed a few steps behind them in bemusement. It was that simple?
It wasn't.
Before they got to the tent with voices spilling out of it, Potter wrenched away from his angry friends and grabbed Draco's forearm, pulling him around to the side.
They stood there for the longest time. Just when Draco was about to shove Potter against the tent, because he wanted to know what Muggle tents did when that happened (wizard ones were like running into a brick wall), Potter waved his wand and muttered a spell.
"So no one can hear us. All they'll hear is buzzing," he explained.
Draco nodded. He didn't particularly care. Well, he did, but if Potter didn't get to the point soon he'd...do nothing. He frowned. What was there for him to do when Potter's little crew was stationed behind the tent wall?
"Look," Potter started, and then sighed heavily. His hands stretched between them and hovered over Draco's wrist, as if he was afraid to touch him after they'd been tied together for so long. Not that he'd held any qualms against peeing on him.
And suddenly Draco understood. He smiled, laughter almost issuing forth. Potter, being the silly Gryffindor sod he was, assumed that their mistake back by the bush had meant something. It was to be expected, especially after Draco himself had felt warm feelings when holding Potter's hand. But that was all to do with the aftermath of sex. Poor Potter, who'd probably never shagged anyone before, didn't know that.
Feeling generous, and wanting it dealt with as soon as possible, Draco (with some difficulty) turned his smile sympathetic. "No worries, Potter. It didn't mean a thing back there. It was just...the heat of the moment. A mistake. That's all. It's not like you had actual feelings for me. You're not a virgin, are you?" He couldn't help the snort that followed his question.
Potter's expression sobered him quickly. "What are you talking about?" A blush coated his face but by the way his jaw was set and fists curled it looked more from anger than embarrassment. "Oh."
Draco smirked. "Yes."
Potter crossed his arms stubbornly. "Well, if that's want you want to tell yourself. I wasn't even thinking about it," he said, almost making it sound like an accusation.
Draco flushed. "I'm not telling myself that. I'm telling you before any silly notions enter your head."
"Why the fuck would I get notions like that?"
"I don't know! You're Harry Potter, king of daftness."
"At least I don't get turned on by someone pissing."
Draco widened his eyes and raised his hands in mocking. "Big deal. You're the only one who knows."
"I could tell."
"But you won't," Draco replied smugly. "You're part of the whole thing too."
"Maybe I don't care if they know."
"Obviously. You're the one trusting your mentor's killer."
Potter's mouth fell open. "You mean Snape? What about yourself? You had a hand in his death. Not to mention you nearly killed Ron and Katie Bell. At least Snape is helping us, has a bargaining tool. What do you have? Nothing! What have you done? Again, nothing! All you are is a nosey, annoying prat who's not worth keeping around."
He'd walked right into that one but it didn't matter. He had been wrong before. "Then why don't you kick me out? Let me fend for myself, huh, if that's how you feel? Because I'd sooner do that than be stuck with a bunch of Neanderthals like you lot!"
Potter's face fell. "I'm sorry." He moved forward, latching onto Draco's wrist this time, but Draco was too fired up.
"Don't touch me!" He jerked away, stumbling and falling against the tent. It gave way under him but Potter waved his wand and Draco was once again standing, the tent still in tact behind him, though he noticed the voices had quieted. He was rather glad Potter had put up that silencing spell.
"You're not useless." Potter pulled him close, crushing Draco's struggling body against him. The utter bastard. "And if you leave I'll fucking track you down and bring you back."
Fuming, Draco brought his knee up and jabbed Potter in the crotch. He stood and surveyed his work as Potter collapsed at his feet. It actually felt wonderful, powerful to have someone rolling at his feet like that. A far distant part of his mind told him he was absolutely brutal for having hit another bloke in such a sensitive area but he was mad and it didn't take much to quell that little voice.
"And why would you bring me back? Because you want to get me naked next time?"
Potter glared up at him, tears brimming in his eyes. "Can't you think of anything else? Not everything revolves around that."
"Obviously," Draco scorned. "It only happened not that long ago."
The leaves crunched as Potter stood, hands snug around his stomach.
"But that's not why you'd want to, ay? No. Because the fact that I'm bloody sexy and make you achingly hard," -- he grabbed Potter's cock roughly, ignoring Potter's cry of pain. He rubbed it, surprised to feel it hardening under his fingers -- "isn't a good enough reason to put me back under safety," he said, using Potter's previous words against him.
"No," Draco continued, eyes glittering as he leaned closer, lips brushing over Potter's as he spat, "The only reason you took me in was because Dumbledore was going to. And that's the only reason you'd go after me. I heard you reassuring Weasley and Granger after you'd vouched for me and I thought 'Potter's not that stupid. He must have some alternative motive.' But that's not the case, is it? You're just a backstabbing idiot!"
"My god, I hate you!" Potter wailed, kissing him brutally.
To say Draco was surprised was an understatement. He was so surprised there was no word for it; none that he knew anyway. He just kissed Potter back as brutally and it was as if they were trying to bruise each other's lips because it wasn't even really a kiss. They were mashing their faces together, doing damage.
And Potter sounded really funny when he was mewling like that. Draco chuckled. Then he full out laughed. Trust Potter to make this whole situation insane and incomprehensible.
Potter pulled back and there was an odd grin on his face. "You're not going to run back to Voldemort, are you?"
The question was so far out there that it just seemed right. Draco shook his head. "I'm not an idiot like you."
Potter nodded, twisted his hands, and nodded again. "We're looking for Horcruxes. Can I trust you?"
"Only an idiot would say something first and then ask about trust," Draco pointed out because it was true and if that was how Potter worked his little crew of followers could all be Death Eaters in disguise. Except Draco would know about at least one of them, then.
"So I'm an idiot. We've decided that." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "They're all going to call me an idiot when they find out I'm telling you everything."
Potter surveyed him and Draco stayed silent because he really wanted to know. Plus there were so many things that wanted to fall out of his mouth and none of them would get him any closer to finding out the truth.
Potter took a deep breath. "Voldemort made seven Horcruxes. We've found four. There's still two. The last one is himself. Horcruxes are parts of his soul that he implanted into an object or living thing. He can't be killed unless all bits of his soul are destroyed. Get it?"
Draco blinked. And blinked some more. Potter was shite at explaining. He'd have to read up on it sometime. Or get Granger to explain. As much as he hated her and her Mudblood-ness, she was smart. "So, let me get this straight. The Dark Lord put his soul in objects --"
"And Nagini."
"--And you are going around destroying bits of his soul so that he is not immortal. Then you will kill him. And that wand contains a part of his soul. Correct?"
Potter smiled. "Yep."
"You're suicidal," Draco decided, throwing his hands up in the air. He didn't particularly care if Potter was suicidal and he already gathered as much anyway, if Potter's actions back behind that tree when the Dark Lord wasn't two metres behind them said anything.
But Potter was going to bring him along for the ride.
"Want to join my team?"
A tanned hand was thrust out in Draco's vision. He stared at it for the longest time, eyeing the scraps and creases. The gesture hit the sentimental part of him that was recalling that day on the train when Potter had refused his hand, but he let go of that notion and grasped Potter's hand.
It wasn't even a fair deal, really.
If Draco refused now, he'd be offered a bed in Azkaban. When Potter had refused his hand all those years ago, he was offered the friendship of Ron Weasley. Then again, Draco would rather the bed in Azkaban than friends with Weasley.
"Coming, Harry?" someone called.
Potter removed the silencing spell and, still holding Draco's hand, led him to the tent flap. He let go the moment they reached it and Draco realised that Potter had never made him promise his trust, but he didn't say anything, just followed Potter in and prepared himself for the uproar.
"That's Malfoy," Lovegood stated, twirling the tip of her wand in a cup of tea. Draco raised his eyebrows and surveyed the group. Potter really knew how to pick them. Besides the ones he already knew about there were the Weasley twins, who probably harmed more than helped, and Neville Longbottom. Adding Lovegood and Longbottom to a crew had to be about the stupidest idea ever. So of course Potter would do it.
Everyone had looked up at Lovegood's words. Weasley and Granger were whispering harshly to each other.
"Why'd you bring him?" one of the twins asked.
"Because you know we're talking about things he doesn't know," the other added.
"And what were you two talking about?"
"Because someone tried to knock the tent down," the other finished.
Draco gave them a dirty look.
The first one smirked and Draco was glad to see it didn't work nearly as well as when he did it. Something about the multitude of freckles, he decided. "Giving him what he deserves?"
Draco laughed. Everyone stared at him. It was funny, though. He had been the one to kick Potter in the balls. What had Potter done to him in return? Kiss him.
Potter mumbled something unintelligible then raised his head to them. "Dra-Malfoy is part of our group now. I told him about the Horcruxes."
"Oh, Harry," Granger moaned, dropping her head to Weasley's shoulder. Weasley's face was turning an alarming shade of red.
Lupin seemed torn between chastising Potter and getting the meeting underway. He shuffled his feet for the longest time before speaking. "I hope you trust him fully."
Potter bit his lip and gave Draco a side-long look, as if he was remembering Draco had never promised that he could be trusted. "Yeah, I trust him."
Weasley slammed his fists on the table they were all sitting around. "But why? Does this have something to do with the fact that you two were holding hands?" he accused.
Draco was amused. Was this how Potter's little crew always ran their meetings? No wonder they had set up camp in the wrong spot.
"We were tied together!" Potter shouted to the interested group at large. "Look, I trust him and I already told him so unless you're going to Obliviate him it's too late."
Some of them looked like they'd much rather Obliviate him. A twin even pulled his wand out.
"We trust Harry, right?" Longbottom hesitated. "So, if Harry trusts Malfoy he should be all right."
"Thank you, Neville," Harry said, surprised. Draco was too. "C'mon." He grabbed Draco's wrist and tugged him to the table. Lovegood pulled her wand out of her tea and conjured a garishly red chair with moth holes. He didn't know if it was because she was voicing her opinion on him or she was just odd. Probably both.
He made Harry sit in the moth-ridden chair and he grabbed the normal one.
The meeting was rather boring. Draco was more interested in trailing his pointer finger in circles over the table, clicking his nails against it. Halfway through, Potter's hand landed on his, silencing him, but it stayed there much too long to not be noticed. And it was noticed. How Potter ignored all the questioning looks was beyond him.
All they did was try to locate where the wand was on their large map. Eventually they had narrowed it down to an eight kilometre wide area and immediately set off, Potter in the lead with Weasley and Granger, once again leaving Draco to suffer at the hands of people who Potter had angered with his choices.
One twin grinned at him, the other walking in step beside him so that he was surrounded by red and freckles. Ugh. "George. You remember me? I helped Harry beat you up back in your fifth year."
"Yeah. And you got suspended from Quidditch. Notice I didn't?"
George curled his fists and raised them but Fred was laughing. "I never did get to beat you up. Reckon I might still get to."
Draco braced himself, ready to kick them in the balls too because now that he'd done it on the person he tolerated most in the Order, it would be nothing to do on everyone else. Moody especially could use a swift kick there.
"Hey," Longbottom interrupted. "Harry'll get mad."
Draco sneered at him. He didn't need a near-squib's help.
Then Lovegood waltzed over, completing the worst moment of Draco's day. Maybe. It was hard to top being tied to a suicidal bastard whose idea of a good strategy was jumping out in front of the Dark Lord.
"Not to mention," she said, pointing to different rocks on the ground, "that fighting in the woods brings out halusedus and you don't want them."
"Why not?" George asked, humouring her.
Draco walked faster, out of the Weasley sandwich, which brought too many disturbing images to mind and he'd have to bash his head against one of those stones and hope a halusedus came out and ate his toes, because that's what Lovegood was saying. Though how losing his toes would help his brain he didn't know.
"I hate your friends," he voiced the moment he had passed Lupin and shoved Weasley out of the way to walk next to Potter.
"And we hate you," Weasley growled, shoving him back. For the next fifteen minutes they kept shoving. There was nothing else to do. And Weasley let lose this little girlish squeal every five pushes so it was quite funny.
Lupin sighed in irritation and Granger gave him a sympathetic look. Draco almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Perhaps if he was someone he liked and not a werewolf he would have actually sympathized with him because he was the only adult in the little group. As much as Granger liked to pretend to be, she wasn't.
"We're almost there," Potter informed them. Draco looked around but he didn't recognize anything. It was all trees and briers and dirt. Though they had located their blasted trail so they were at least heading in the right direction.
"Good," said Lupin. He motioned for everyone to move together. "Now, they already know we are coming and I'm positive they are still there. So I --"
"How do they know?" Longbottom interrupted.
"Malfoy's Dark Mark," Potter said, hand closing over Draco's Mark through his shirt. Draco glanced at him but Potter didn't acknowledge him except for rubbing his thumb over the Mark softly.
Longbottom flushed. The Weasley twins were eyeing Draco in a way he didn't understand but knew boded ill.
"Yes." Lupin waved his hand at them. "So make sure your wand is out, defensive spells in --"
"Defensive?" Draco scoffed. Potter's hand fell away from him. "Offensive is better."
Lupin raised his eyebrows and Draco fell silent, glaring off into the darkness. He thought it plain stupid to go out when it was so dark but the moon was high and everyone else had argued they had to do it soon. Not that they had really argued. No one had listened to what Draco said. But that was to be expected.
"Get spells in your mind," Lupin continued. "And try to get to the Horcrux but watch yourself more. There's probably a lot of Death Eaters there now."
Everyone clutched their wands closer. Longbottom was staring at his, lips moving frantically as if the wand was his life. In a way it was.
Draco tried not to be scared, but he was. At least he wasn't tied to a suicidal Potter this time. No, he was in the dark where a Death Eater or the Dark Lord himself could be a mere metre away, lurking in a shadow. He was royally fucked.
Potter took the first steps, Weasley, Granger, and Lupin following closely behind. The Weasley twins moved next, circling around the cluster of trees. Draco looked at the remaining two. Longbottom met his gaze, horror showed plainly. Draco sneered and faced the trees. Knowing what was waiting there made it even worse.
"Oh-ho!"
Draco whipped around to glare at Lovegood. Something whizzed past Draco's ear, missing her because she dropped to the ground to pick up a slug.
"Watch out," Longbottom warned, shaking. Draco couldn't decide which one of them he wanted to glare at more.
Suddenly there was shouting and spells flying out of the trees. The three of them looked on in surprise. The rest had entered without them. Draco was tempted to stay outside of it all but Longbottom and Lovegood, with the damned slug in her hand, walked towards the trees and he was not going to be worse than them.
Though it didn't really matter because they all hated him anyway and why should he care what happened to them?
The moment Draco walked through a gap in the trees was the moment he expected to see his life flash before his eyes. How could he be so foolish? But he didn't. He was firing spells left and right, not sure who he was getting, but Weasley sent him a leg-locker curse so he figured he had hit him at one point.
He fell to the ground, struggling to reach his wand, but there were feet in the way. It was much too confined a spot to be duelling in. He stretched out, hissing when someone stepped on his wrist, and he was so close to his wand. He ended up grabbing someone's robes.
That someone turned out to be the Dark Lord.
"Why, what have we here?" he cackled.
Draco couldn't move. He was still clutching the Dark Lord's robes and he was going to die and he hadn't even finished school yet! He'd only ever had sex with Potter, if one could call that sex, and once with Pansy. Life hated him, he was sure. It was all one giant conspiracy against him.
"Siding with these fools?" the Dark Lord tittered, eyes turning redder. He pulled out his wand and Draco squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he should roll away, scream, do something, but he was frozen. Why wasn't anyone helping him? Or attacking the Dark Lord, at least. They had to see him.
"Avada --"
"No!" someone yelped and then a body landed on Draco, rolling him away, but not far.
His fingers had barely let go of the Dark Lord's robes when a high-pitched voice finished, "Kedavra!"
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, tucking his head against Potter's (who else would have thought to save him but the person with a saving people complex?) neck. But something splintered behind him, sending wood chips into his back.
Potter was on his feet in an instant, staring at the broken wand in his hands. "Leave!" he barked, grabbing Draco's shirt collar and tugging on him.
The Dark Lord let out a howl, pointing his wand at Potter now. Draco snatched his own wand and wobbled to his feet, shaking as badly as Longbottom had been. Potter latched onto him and Draco had the frightening notion that Potter wanted to die kissing him but he twisted them around, a loud crack filling Draco's ears.
He landed, as if in a daze, outside the doors of Grimmauld Place.
He laughed.
Other cracks followed and the rest of the group were standing around.
Someone shoved Draco into the house roughly, causing Draco to cry out because they had shoved a splinter deeper into his flesh. He rubbed at his lower back sourly as the person who had shoved him, Granger, rushed to the window, pulled the moth-eaten curtain out of the way, and peered out anxiously.
"What's she doing?" Draco inquired as he unlocked his legs.
No one paid him any attention. The rest of the Order was running to them and the ones who understood were staring at the destroyed Horcrux, shouting in glee. Draco looked at them in disgust. There went his glory.
Granger halted beside him and he resisted the impulse to move away. "I hope Voldemort didn't trace you here," she muttered, giving him a look that made it quite clear she would blame him if that was the case.
"What's it matter?" Draco asked, in the mood to argue since he had gone through all that life-threatening trouble to be pushed aside by an old wand. "It's not like the Dark Lord can see this place."
Granger huffed. "Well, obviously. And just as obviously, they can ambush when someone enters or exits Headquarters."
Draco wanted to hit her. It made him miss Crabbe and Goyle. They would have had no qualms attacking her for him. He wondered what they ended up mixed in. Where they Death Eaters now? Or did the Dark Lord consider them to dim and young to join his ranks?
Thinking of them also made him recall Pansy, which he shouldn't have done. Pansy had always been a soft spot for him, one of the few. She had been his first and best friend, his first love, and his admirer. He had neglected her all throughout sixth year and then disappeared. He wished he could send her an owl, but it was too dangerous. There was no doubt in his mind that she would only join the Dark Lord if he singled her out because of her reaction to him being a Death Eater, but one could never be sure.
"I say we set it on fire!" one of the twins yelled.
The other chimed in with, "Start the fireplace with it!"
A steak of red bounded down the stairs, sounding like a Hippogriff, and Ginny Weasley flung herself into Potter's arms. Draco clenched his jaw. He'd forgotten about her and Potter. They weren't dating, everyone knew that because Weasley liked to grouse about it on a weekly basis, but did Potter still have feelings for her? Could he be swayed? Was he even gay?
Ron Weasley caught his gaze and held it. He raised his eyebrows and jerked his head to the still embracing Weasley girl and Potter.
Draco gave him a disdainful look and him a two finger salute. Weasley actually laughed, and Draco got the feeling that he was being laughed at.
"What's it about and how'd you get it?" Tonks asked from her position in Lupin's arms. Slowly Potter's group, which Draco refused to be categorized under except that he now knew something that the rest of the Order didn't -- ha, Moody! -- quieted.
"Oh," Mrs Weasley said. "The secret."
Girl Weasley pulled away from Potter and pouted in a way that almost made Draco feel bad for Potter. Almost. There was also the fact that Potter was grinning and her and didn't seem disgusted.
"But it's good. Very good. This," -- he held out the wand -- "brings us very close to killing Voldemort."
Draco noticed that about half of the Order shuddered and it surprised him. Why hadn't he noticed it before? How could they fight the Dark Lord if they couldn't stand to hear his name? Even Potter's sidekick, Weasley, shuddered.
Lovegood's voice originated from near the troll leg umbrella stand. "It's the last one, isn't it?"
Draco finally looked on in interest.
"Yes, yes," Granger said, distracted because Ron Weasley was intent on twisting her bush around his fingers, thereby making it worse. "Just two left."
"Don't see why Snape can't get the one," Weasley muttered, yanking a little too harshly on Granger's hair -- she grumbled and batted his hand away. "Make it look like an accident. Can't be that hard."
Potter sighed heavily, as if they always had an argument about Snape and they probably did -- Draco knew he'd have a problem with it if he cared. Hell, he had a problem with it and he didn't care.
"Look, we'll talk later," Potter ground out, apparently noticing that most of the Order was in the room now, staring intently at them.
A harsh wind suddenly blew against Draco. Mundungus Fletcher stumbled through the front door, nearly banging into Draco, who scowled and contemplated cursing him.
He absolutely hated Fletcher. Fletcher was the type of plebeian, scrub-from-the-street that everyone's parents warned them against. He belched and flatulated like it was going out of style, slept during the meetings, and generally made an arse of himself.
Sometimes Draco really didn't understand what qualified to make someone an Order member. They had quite an assortment already. A werewolf, metamorphous, insane people, wimps, idiots, thieves, even a Death Eater. Though the latter was former because from what Draco understood Potter was the only one who listened to Snape.
The only one stupid enough.
"Ay, there, what's that?" Fletcher said, stumbling forward and seizing the wand from Potter. Draco caught a strong whiff of alcohol, reminding him of the months right after his father had been sent to Azkaban. Of course, his mother didn't drink beer.
"Give that back," Potter snarled, his face going alarmingly red. Draco was rather disappointed. He'd never dragged that type of reaction out of Potter. All he had to do was grab a broken Horcrux?
Fletcher waved it around, the splinter holding it together breaking. Potter snatched the fallen half. "You made this?"
Potter held out his hand, absolutely fuming. Longbottom had somehow moved up to them and placed a hand on Potter's shoulder, calming him slightly.
"No. It's real," Ginny Weasley said, beaming at Potter.
"Give it back to him," Bill Weasley said, rolling his eyes.
Draco cocked his head. He was missing something. Potter shouldn't be so angry about this.
Fletcher snorted. "This isn't real. It's just wood." He tossed it into Potter's hands.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Potter hissed, cradling the pieces of wood rather pathetically.
Fletcher shrugged. "Whatever. But I know my materials." He then shoved through them all to the basement steps.
Draco realized the front door was still open and closed it, irritated. He really hated Mundungus Fletcher. The man was a swine at the worst.
"May I see," Mr Weasley asked, holding a freckled hand out.
Surprisingly, Potter handed it over. Of course, Weasleys would be able to hold anything. Draco found himself wondering what all Ginny Weasley had held. Did the two of them ever have sex?
Mr Weasley pointed his wand at it and murmured, "Prior Incantato."
Nothing happened.
"There's nothing even in it," Lupin said, having walked over to investigate. "No hair or heartstring or anything."
A small, strangled sound fell from Potter's lips. "What do you mean?"
The spell was said again, this time by Lupin. He looked at Potter, holding the wand -- stick? -- to him "There was never a spell cast with this wand."
Granger gasped, rushing over to them.
"If it's a wand," Draco scoffed.
The majority of the Order, even the ones who didn't understand what was going on -- especially those, actually -- were giving Draco suspicious looks.
Of course, how could he forget? This all had to be his fault, right?
Potter noticed and backed up to stand next to him. Draco scowled. He didn't need Potter's help.
"I want to say something," he told the room at large. Ron Weasley buried his heavily freckled face in his hands. Granger huffed at being interrupted from talking. "Draco --"
Draco cleared his throat. He hadn't given Potter permission to use his first name. However, Potter ignored him.
"-- had went out looking for us. He helped, a lot, and I want you all to stop treating him like he's the butt of our problems. He doesn't do much of anything so it's not like you can blame him. In fact, he helped us find this...thing. So treat him like he's one of us because I trust him. And I don't want to hear that you're blaming him for stuff beyond his talents. Got it?"
Draco was appalled. Unable to say a thing. He had just been defended and insulted at the same time. By an arsehole who needed to die! Draco pursed his lips, silently plotting Harry Potter's imminent and highly painful death.
"You forgot to mention the most important part," one of the twins prompted.
"He's now part of your selected group," the other explained.
Potter shrugged and stared defiantly at the rest of the group. Everyone looked rather stunned and disappointed. Moody was glowering at Draco, as if it was his fault Potter was an idiot. He would never have trusted himself if he were in Potter's position.
Ginny Weasley was the first to speak. "But he's Malfoy! He's a Death Eater! You never paid him any attention before." Mrs Weasley elbowed her.
Flushed, Granger interrupted, shoving her face in front of Potter. "It all makes sense now!" she breathed, heels bouncing. Over her shoulder, Draco saw the Order was scandalised, no doubt thinking she was talking about Potter's abrupt trust in him.
"I mean, really, why would Voldemort leave the real one there when he knew we would be coming back for it? Huh? He's not that thick. He replaced it so that if on the off chance we got a hold of it, it wouldn't be the real thing!"
She looked much too excited for someone who'd just found out they'd gone through all that trouble for a fake Horcrux. Potter stared blankly at her and she must have realized because she let out a low moan.
"A meeting, I think," Lupin announced, pulling away from a reluctant Tonks. "Come on, you lot."
Granger grabbed Potter and he followed obediently. The rest trudged after. A twin gave Draco a threatening glance then slammed the basement door shut behind him. Fletcher exited soon after.
And Draco was left with a fuming, confused mob of people.
"Told them, but does anyone ever listen?" Fletcher mumbled, drawing attention from those remaining.
Draco took the chance to escape, though he could feel Moody's magical eye watching him. Not for the first time, he wondered if it could travel through walls and if so, how many?
He shut the door behind him and flopped onto the bed, crawling under the blankets without removing his clothes. He should have been angry for not being allowed into the meeting he was now a part of but he was dead tired and the only thing he could think of was Ginny Weasley's reaction when she would find out he was the one who stole her broom and left it behind. It created a funny image. Unfortunately, it was the image he fell asleep to.
Second Half