I Need You
Title: I Need You
Author: sugareey (aka ME)
Rating: PG
Pairing: H/D
Word Count: 1,201
Summary: no matter who you are, you'll always need someone.
Disclaimer: not mine. however, it is my duty to manipulate the characters.
Warning: post hbp. this is from the determination series.
A/N: none that i see. it's been a while since i've updated though. this is continued from I Pity You. it would be best to read previous parts. cheers!
*edit* totally irrelevant but: "they're so cute when they're stupid!"
-comment made by Xpyromania05X. yeah...she's refering to harry and cedric. i'll refer it to draco as well. *pets them all*
When he stared at the front door, he couldn’t make himself go through it. He owned nothing here, so it shouldn’t have been so hard. But there was something in his mind that made him reconsider his decision. If he walked out, there was no turning back. He would be running from both sides. Deep down, he knew he might survive. That scared him. Was he making the right choice? No one was stopping him. He had hardly stayed here for a day and yet he felt attached. He was on pureblood property. He would be safe on estate that belonged to the people who gave him the blood running through his veins.
He refused to admit that Harry was right. He was a coward. Was he running because he could? Just like Karkaroff and Regulus. But there was a difference, right? Karkaroff simply ran for it, Snape had told him. Regulus secretly rebelled against Voldemort by stealing a part of his soul, only to destroy it. Still, they both got in too deep. They were too late. If it was too late for him as well…
Draco kept gazing at the door, telling himself to open it. Maybe he should leave this world all together. He could learn to live as a Muggle and maybe even travel. France, Italy, Spain. Those would be nice places to visit. He laughed hollowly. That was the easy way out. His father would have wanted better of him. Father. It was Lucius who raised Draco to be an aristocrat. Whatever he told him was supposed to be right. And Draco believed him. Malfoys were strong, powerful, good-looking and wealthy. They had a name to live for. They would all die, knowing they met those standards. But did Malfoys really know right from wrong? Did they care about what happened to the rest of the world?
Malfoys weren’t supposed to think such thoughts. They weren’t supposed to feel empathetic or ask questions. They got what they wanted, just like a pureblood should. Draco must be different if he thought otherwise. He couldn’t help but feel the stress, grief, fear and pain the war inflicted. He didn’t think it would be this hard to please both his family and Voldemort. He hadn’t seriously thought about making choices now. And he fucked everything up, not once but twice. Or was it three times?
Sighing, Draco exasperatedly leaned against the door. What was he doing? He couldn’t run, hide, kill or do anything. He knew he brought this on himself, but that didn’t stop him from blaming Voldemort. If the bloody bastard didn’t exist, things would be normal. Draco closed his eyes, trying to forget about his worries. He could feel himself trembling. He was oblivious that Harry was watching him from the next room.
Harry actually thought Draco had left already. Their row at breakfast had pissed himoff so much that he couldn’t take it anymore. Perhaps the Daily Prophet labeled Harry as the Chosen One, but no one really knew what happened at the Department of Mysteries. They didn’t know what the prophecy said about his fate, apart from Ron and Hermione. They didn’t know because they didn’t care. Even though his friends and the Order were right behind him, they didn’t understand. He was the only one who knew the true story about the boy named Tom Riddle.
Refocusing his attention on Draco, he felt guilty. Telling a Death Eater to get himself killed wasn’t wise. But was Draco a Death Eater? Would he go back to them? Harry remembered pitying Draco when he saw him Disapparate with the other Death Eaters just before term ended. Draco was thrown into this mess just like him. It wasn’t Draco’s fault. Harry knew how Lucius was. Lucius wanted Draco to be like him. But Harry had seen fear in those gray eyes. This wasn’t what Draco wanted. It was when Harry walked closer toward the door that Draco saw him. They locked eyes.
“Potter.”
“Malfoy.”
Draco glared at Harry as he stood up again. He brushed off the dust from his wrinkled robes.
“I’ll be on my way then.”
He nodded at Harry before turning to open the door. With one foot over the threshold, Draco could feel his confidence diminish. He couldn’t do this. As much as he tried to leave this depressing place, he didn’t want to. Empty. That was what Grimmauld Place was. That was what he was. But he had freedom here. He didn’t have any obligations. Draco spun around, facing Harry. He couldn’t read his expression. Maybe he was angry, determined, nervous or even shocked. But there was no fear. Harry never seemed to show fear. Typical Gryffindor. If Harry wasn’t scared, why should Draco be? Shouldn’t he stand up to his beliefs for once?
Still holding the door handle, Draco pulled it towards him. The door clicked shut. He was breathing erratically. Sweat clung to his fair skin. Glancing around, he knew this was where he belonged. Running a shaky hand through blond tresses, Draco closed his eyes again. He released the handle and pressed a hand on the wall for support.
“I can’t leave.”
“Then don’t.”
Draco’s eyes snapped open when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Harry with surprise. Harry smiled at him before guiding him upstairs.
“I think you’ll want a room if you’re planning to stay.”
“That would be preferable, thank you.”
Draco grinned, realizing it had been almost a year since he last did that.
I need you.
“Well, that’s something I haven’t heard before, Malfoy.”
Horrorstruck, Draco tried to pull back from Harry’s grasp. Did he just say that aloud? Did he seriously need Harry Potter to help him? He must be going mad. He stubbornly yanked Harry’s hand off of his shoulder but to no avail.
“It’s not a bad thing! No need to get all twitchy!”
Draco grunted and batted Harry away. Harry just laughed. They reached the second landing when Harry ushered Draco into a neat and prim room.
“It’s no wonder Moody turned you into a ferret. I bet you made a bloody good one.”
“Shut it, Scarhead!” mumbled Draco, irritated.
“Back to childish name calling? You’re loss is my loss, Draco.”
Draco gazed at Harry, puzzled. Had he been so exhausted not to notice how much better it sounded when Harry addressed him by his first name? He couldn’t remember him doing that. Still, it made him feel important. He chose this, he reminded himself. He was accepting Harry’s offer because he could.
“Pity, isn’t it, Harry?
It took Harry a moment to realize what Draco called him. It sounded strange to hear Draco talk to him so civilly. This he could get used to. He simply rolled his eyes and went back into the hallway.
“Tell me if you need anything, alright?”
“Sure. Or I could always get that house elf to serve my needs.”
“Don’t let Hermione hear you saying that.”
Draco raised his eyebrows but decided not to ask. It was strange to feel all this happiness in such a glum place. All he knew was that he was going to need it.
Author: sugareey (aka ME)
Rating: PG
Pairing: H/D
Word Count: 1,201
Summary: no matter who you are, you'll always need someone.
Disclaimer: not mine. however, it is my duty to manipulate the characters.
Warning: post hbp. this is from the determination series.
A/N: none that i see. it's been a while since i've updated though. this is continued from I Pity You. it would be best to read previous parts. cheers!
*edit* totally irrelevant but: "they're so cute when they're stupid!"
-comment made by Xpyromania05X. yeah...she's refering to harry and cedric. i'll refer it to draco as well. *pets them all*
When he stared at the front door, he couldn’t make himself go through it. He owned nothing here, so it shouldn’t have been so hard. But there was something in his mind that made him reconsider his decision. If he walked out, there was no turning back. He would be running from both sides. Deep down, he knew he might survive. That scared him. Was he making the right choice? No one was stopping him. He had hardly stayed here for a day and yet he felt attached. He was on pureblood property. He would be safe on estate that belonged to the people who gave him the blood running through his veins.
He refused to admit that Harry was right. He was a coward. Was he running because he could? Just like Karkaroff and Regulus. But there was a difference, right? Karkaroff simply ran for it, Snape had told him. Regulus secretly rebelled against Voldemort by stealing a part of his soul, only to destroy it. Still, they both got in too deep. They were too late. If it was too late for him as well…
Draco kept gazing at the door, telling himself to open it. Maybe he should leave this world all together. He could learn to live as a Muggle and maybe even travel. France, Italy, Spain. Those would be nice places to visit. He laughed hollowly. That was the easy way out. His father would have wanted better of him. Father. It was Lucius who raised Draco to be an aristocrat. Whatever he told him was supposed to be right. And Draco believed him. Malfoys were strong, powerful, good-looking and wealthy. They had a name to live for. They would all die, knowing they met those standards. But did Malfoys really know right from wrong? Did they care about what happened to the rest of the world?
Malfoys weren’t supposed to think such thoughts. They weren’t supposed to feel empathetic or ask questions. They got what they wanted, just like a pureblood should. Draco must be different if he thought otherwise. He couldn’t help but feel the stress, grief, fear and pain the war inflicted. He didn’t think it would be this hard to please both his family and Voldemort. He hadn’t seriously thought about making choices now. And he fucked everything up, not once but twice. Or was it three times?
Sighing, Draco exasperatedly leaned against the door. What was he doing? He couldn’t run, hide, kill or do anything. He knew he brought this on himself, but that didn’t stop him from blaming Voldemort. If the bloody bastard didn’t exist, things would be normal. Draco closed his eyes, trying to forget about his worries. He could feel himself trembling. He was oblivious that Harry was watching him from the next room.
Harry actually thought Draco had left already. Their row at breakfast had pissed himoff so much that he couldn’t take it anymore. Perhaps the Daily Prophet labeled Harry as the Chosen One, but no one really knew what happened at the Department of Mysteries. They didn’t know what the prophecy said about his fate, apart from Ron and Hermione. They didn’t know because they didn’t care. Even though his friends and the Order were right behind him, they didn’t understand. He was the only one who knew the true story about the boy named Tom Riddle.
Refocusing his attention on Draco, he felt guilty. Telling a Death Eater to get himself killed wasn’t wise. But was Draco a Death Eater? Would he go back to them? Harry remembered pitying Draco when he saw him Disapparate with the other Death Eaters just before term ended. Draco was thrown into this mess just like him. It wasn’t Draco’s fault. Harry knew how Lucius was. Lucius wanted Draco to be like him. But Harry had seen fear in those gray eyes. This wasn’t what Draco wanted. It was when Harry walked closer toward the door that Draco saw him. They locked eyes.
“Potter.”
“Malfoy.”
Draco glared at Harry as he stood up again. He brushed off the dust from his wrinkled robes.
“I’ll be on my way then.”
He nodded at Harry before turning to open the door. With one foot over the threshold, Draco could feel his confidence diminish. He couldn’t do this. As much as he tried to leave this depressing place, he didn’t want to. Empty. That was what Grimmauld Place was. That was what he was. But he had freedom here. He didn’t have any obligations. Draco spun around, facing Harry. He couldn’t read his expression. Maybe he was angry, determined, nervous or even shocked. But there was no fear. Harry never seemed to show fear. Typical Gryffindor. If Harry wasn’t scared, why should Draco be? Shouldn’t he stand up to his beliefs for once?
Still holding the door handle, Draco pulled it towards him. The door clicked shut. He was breathing erratically. Sweat clung to his fair skin. Glancing around, he knew this was where he belonged. Running a shaky hand through blond tresses, Draco closed his eyes again. He released the handle and pressed a hand on the wall for support.
“I can’t leave.”
“Then don’t.”
Draco’s eyes snapped open when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Harry with surprise. Harry smiled at him before guiding him upstairs.
“I think you’ll want a room if you’re planning to stay.”
“That would be preferable, thank you.”
Draco grinned, realizing it had been almost a year since he last did that.
I need you.
“Well, that’s something I haven’t heard before, Malfoy.”
Horrorstruck, Draco tried to pull back from Harry’s grasp. Did he just say that aloud? Did he seriously need Harry Potter to help him? He must be going mad. He stubbornly yanked Harry’s hand off of his shoulder but to no avail.
“It’s not a bad thing! No need to get all twitchy!”
Draco grunted and batted Harry away. Harry just laughed. They reached the second landing when Harry ushered Draco into a neat and prim room.
“It’s no wonder Moody turned you into a ferret. I bet you made a bloody good one.”
“Shut it, Scarhead!” mumbled Draco, irritated.
“Back to childish name calling? You’re loss is my loss, Draco.”
Draco gazed at Harry, puzzled. Had he been so exhausted not to notice how much better it sounded when Harry addressed him by his first name? He couldn’t remember him doing that. Still, it made him feel important. He chose this, he reminded himself. He was accepting Harry’s offer because he could.
“Pity, isn’t it, Harry?
It took Harry a moment to realize what Draco called him. It sounded strange to hear Draco talk to him so civilly. This he could get used to. He simply rolled his eyes and went back into the hallway.
“Tell me if you need anything, alright?”
“Sure. Or I could always get that house elf to serve my needs.”
“Don’t let Hermione hear you saying that.”
Draco raised his eyebrows but decided not to ask. It was strange to feel all this happiness in such a glum place. All he knew was that he was going to need it.