ATtD Ch36
“…Potter…”
Harry gasped, the vision shattering. He blinked, peering drowsily through the darkness to where Draco was calling his name. “What’s wrong?”
“Your claws!” Draco hissed, twitching with each movement Harry inadvertently made.
Following his arm, Harry was surprised to find his nails had indeed made an appearance and were digging into Draco’s smooth stomach. Long red scratches, some oozing blood, decorated the pale flesh liberally. “Sorry. It was a nightmare… sorry.” He immediately withdrew his claws back to innocent looking nails. “Here… let me heal it. I’m really sorry Malfoy… I didn’t realize…” Gods, he couldn’t even sleep without hurting someone. Malfoy wouldn’t have even been put at risk if he hadn’t forced him to stay.
“It’s fine Potter; just make it stop!” Draco whimpered. “…I don’t do pain well- Oh hell… what are you…? Gods…” He trailed off with a weak moan.
Dismissing the hands tangling in his hair, Harry continued lapping at the wounds; the natural enzymes in his saliva quickly knitted the torn flesh back together. He really felt horrible about hurting Malfoy. He had promised himself he would keep control and yet already a simple nightmare had destroyed it- His nose twitched, the scent of blood and something he didn’t recognize pooling heat through him in a way he had only noticed when waking from vague dreams filled with the heated press of flesh. Sliding his hand over Draco’s flat stomach, that smelled far too interesting than it should, he checked to make sure no scars remained. “How’s it feel?”
“…Malfoy?”
When Draco still refused to answer, he pulled himself up on his arms and crawled up the boy’s shuddering form. Malfoy really didn’t handle pain well at all; he was shaking like a leaf. “I have nightmares a lot. I see things… things that shouldn’t be seen by anyone… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Mouth gasping soft pants, Draco managed to open his eyes and focus on the glowing green. “Go back to sleep, Potter… before I’m forced to kill you.”
“I, uh… alright.” Harry sighed tiredly, sinking back down. Nuzzling into Draco’s side, he made sure he kept his hands from the Slytherin’s form this time. Still, it took him longer than normal to fall back asleep. Draco’s breathing wouldn’t calm and, between the guilt and the curious smell, his mind refused to stop its crazed running for a long time.
*******
It wouldn’t stop. He had told himself to calm down, but his body refused to obey, and now his eyes were shining like bloody bonfires. Thankfully, it did help him find the door in the darkness. Scrambling silently to his feet, Draco walked awkwardly to the door and opened it. A shifting of cloth made him glance back. Shit. “Bathroom.” He mumbled, waiting for the flash of understanding in the green eyes before he fled out the door.
Gods damn Potter.
He walked as fast as he dared to his bedroom and than locked himself into the bathroom. Placing the seat down, he sprawled out on the toilet, whimpering at the way his pants pinched at his skin. Who the fuck licked like that? A normal person would have cast a damn healing spell, but nooo, not that idiot. With shaky hands, he pulled his shirt up to check where the wounds should be but, surprisingly, were gone.
Dear gods, he had actually intended on healing him. Was Potter that bloody naïve, pawing at him like that? He had done a good job at it; not even a scratch remained. Touching the healed skin, he let out a long, uneven breath. Alright… this wasn’t going to go away. Swallowing thickly, he carefully unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Bloody… Thank goodness for cleaning spells. He peeled his boxers from where they were sticking, gasping at the sensation when it caught on his cock. “Hell.” Fucking Potter. Here he was, forced to wank in the bathroom like a degenerate, just because the idiot couldn’t keep his bloody claws to himself.
…Damn, that sounded crazy even to him.
Spreading his legs wider, he shifted to a more comfortable position and wrapped his hand around his aching prick. Damn, he had waited too long; it practically hurt… Fucking Potter. He fished out his wand and cast a lubrication spell to help ease some of the discomfort. “Oh gods…” Head thrown back, he let his eyes fall shut and gave all his focus to the hot, tight sensation moving around his cock. …Why had he been angry again? Because it just had to be that idiot… with those freaky eyes that branded… Gods, that tongue of his should be outlawed. Unconsciously, his free hand began to reenact the motions of Harry’s odd healing technique over his sensitive abdomen. He was coming before he knew it. Wound so tight, his orgasm was ripped from his body, leaving his shaking and feeling far from satisfied.
He was going to have to kill himself; there was nothing else to it. No, wait… he always had denial. Denial had been his greatest asset during the years. Yeah, that could work. Let’s be serious, no matter how fucking hot the bastard was now, it was still scrawny, messy haired Scarhead that would risk his life over a stupid Remembrall… gods, but he was hot. That tongue of his just got him thinking of those pouty lips, and beautiful, predatory face framed with that sexy, mess of hair that felt like silk from what he remembered… Could you Avada Kedavra yourself? Here he had been laughing at the twins who had to deal with his Veela attractiveness. Karma was a bitch.
He frowned, casting a cleaning charm and making himself presentable. He had gotten used to being the one desired; he had never had to deal with this new feeling. When you live with the knowledge that you can only sleep with one person for your entire life, you learn to squelch that little flame before you get yourself in deep shit. Not that it meant anything… it was just his Veela being annoying. It could have been anyone. There was nothing wrong with lusting…even if it was Potter- Yeah, there was, because it was fucking Potter!
It didn’t matter. He was going to get past this. The twins had managed to get along with him. Even though he was well aware that, if Voldemort hadn’t been ready to kill them, they would have been in his robes in an instant. And it wasn’t like it was completely twenty-four seven… he’d just have to stop looking at the git. Potter wasn’t going to be all clingy forever and it wasn’t like the boy liked him in that way…
Speaking of which, he was probably waiting. Doing a final sweep of the bathroom, he unlocked the door and shuffled out down the hall. He was too nice; that was his problem. Potter had to go and save his life and now he had to deal with all the baggage that went along with being stuck with the Golden Boy. Bloody karma…
Glowing green eyes greeted him from the darkness of the closet and he almost stepped back into the safety of the hall. Be cool, damn it. It’s not like he knew anything.
“You alright?” Harry asked quietly.
“Not really.” Draco shut the door behind him and plopped down on the pillow. “How do you feel? Is the foreign magic gone? Any headaches or irrational fear of something disrupting your energy?”
“I feel better now.” Harry lay down on his side and continued to watch Draco. “I think you help. Your energy… I noticed when I first got here that it took away the bad energy clinging from the shit that happened earlier… I’m sorry about hurting you. Really, really sorry.”
Draco snorted, rolling his eyes at Harry’s distressed face. “You scratched me. Get over it. I have.”
Harry sat up with a frown. “I could have killed you. Listen; just… let’s forget this. I don’t want to hurt you. I get bad nightmares; that last one was tame compared to the horrors I’ve woken up from. I don’t want to be responsible for inadvertently gutting you while I’m taking a nap.”
Huh… that could make things easy. …Gods, the idiot looked so pathetic, though. How could he really think he could kill him in his sleep? Idiot. “Are you done?”
“Huh?” Harry blinked, biting his lip nervously. “Err, yeah. I guess.”
“Good.” Draco sighed, leaning heavily against the idiot with the pathetic green eyes that showed no signs of gold, thank you gods. “You’re not going to kill me. You haven’t yet, and it’s been days, and you’ve woken with screams that have sent my blood curdling… Plus, you wouldn’t have the guts. You’re a very nice person, Potter, and, as loathe as I am to admit it, I respect you and find your energy comforting as well. As long as you want to cling I’ll be here for you, and not just because you saved my life.”
There, he had admitted it. It hadn’t killed him to… only sent his stomach flipping… Dear gods… alright, just breath. Breathe. “That said; we are going to forget any of this ever happened and, if you ever mention what I just said to anyone, I will be forced to kill you. Understand?” Draco glared until Harry nodded hesitantly. “Good. Did you want to go back to sleep now or are you going to sulk and worry if you’re truly evil instead?” He drawled teasingly, hoping to lighten the awkward mood.
“Errr… sleep, I guess.” Harry whispered, too confused to decide if he should be embarrassed or worried that Draco had guessed exactly what he was thinking. “…Do you think I’m that… truly, um, evil?”
Gods, what had he done to deserve this? …Oh yeah… Shaking the irrelevant passed misdeeds from his mind, Draco tilted his head up and to the side. “Right in the eyes, Potter. Only chance you’ll get.”
Harry stared hesitantly into the silver. Sighing, he looked away. “…Forget it. I don’t want to know.”
“Coward.”
“What the-fuck off!” Harry snapped back, eyes flashing warningly.
“I just call it like I see it, Potter. What, too afraid to look me in the eyes? Or is it the truth you don’t want to see…?” Draco smiled sweetly.
Growling, Harry grabbed Draco’s silver hair in frustration and locked their gaze. “I’m not afraid of you!”
“Prove it.” He growled back, the light shining from his eyes bright enough to light up the other boy’s face inches from his own. “Ask me.”
“Fine!” Harry hissed, his buried rage at the whole situation boiling to the surface. “Do you think I’m evil, a monster, capable of tearing you apart on the slightest bloody whim? Do you think I’m going to kill you because I can’t control this insane power inside me? Am I capable of destroying the fucking world?! They hurt me! They hurt me bad, and part of me wants to make them all pay! When I step into that school, surrounded by all of my would-be friends, am I going to kill them? Torture them? Make them suffer the same way they made me? Do you think I’m bloody evil now?!” He stopped; breathing heavily with his fingers too tight in Draco’s hair, but neither seemed to notice.
“No.” Draco said calmly, his gaze never wavering.
“See-wait… no?” Harry furrowed his brows in confusion. “Whaddya mean, no?”
“No, I don’t think you’re evil. No, I don’t think you’re going to destroy the world, or kill me by accident, or your friends, etcetera.” He carefully extracted Harry’s hand from his hair and held it between his two, gently trailing his fingers over his knuckles. “You’re not a monster, Potter. You’re just damaged, and confused, and too nice for your own good. Evil people don’t get damaged; they don’t feel anything. You have to stop doing this to yourself.”
Harry gulped, his emotions running across his face as quickly as they came. “I… I don’t think I can. I can’t-it’s just what you think, it’s not true!” Harry gasped out, trying to pull away. “You don’t know! You don’t know what goes on inside my head. …You don’t know what I’ve seen!”
Hands firmly holding Harry in place, Draco kept his tone even. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t know what’s goes on in my head or all the horrors I’ve seen, either. You still care what I think. You still cared enough to save me. You still cling to me like a damn child. And I still believe, no matter how fucked up you are, that you’ll do what you think is right.” He sighed as Harry relaxed a bit, but his eyes were still wild with doubt and would need more convincing.
“Listen, you don’t have to be bloody perfect to be a good person; I’m a good person… don’t make that face. I’m also selfish, vain, arrogant, downright mean at times, and I enjoy exploiting people’s insecurities against them just to see that twinge of pain on their faces. That’s just the shit I play at. I’m capable of evil and, if my power wasn’t sealed, I could do a lot of bad things to this world… but I won’t. It’s all choices and situations, and no, you never really know if you’ll do the right thing, but it doesn’t keep you from going on and living, just the same. That’s what matters.”
Harry shook his head blindly but his hysteria had faded. “It’s not the same… I’m not- I think I hate them. Really, truly hate them. They abandoned me; they all deserted me and left me to die. I thought that I could forgive them but, but it hurts so much. It’s not right; it’s not fair that it all has to be dumped on me. Is it so bad to ask for one person to care? They were supposed to care.”
Draco took a long breath and sat up straighter. It seemed drastic measures were in order. “I’ll make a deal with you, Potter, a pact. Do you know what a Wizard’s Pact is?”
“…No, not really.” Harry whispered glumly.
“It’s a promise between wizards, that once spoken, is magically written into the Book of Pacts. If you break the promise you’ll be cursed, possibly even killed, equivalent to what type of promise you made. I can’t save you from going evil, Potter; that’s a choice you make, and honestly, I don’t think you ever will. But I promise, on a Wizard’s Pact, that I will save you and the world from yourself if you lose your soul to evil. Whatever it takes, I will find the power to stop you.” He gave Harry’s hand an extra squeeze, sealing the pact.
“Malfoy… you can’t-you can’t make a promise like that.” Harry had shaken out of his shock to gape in horror. “Take it back. Can you take it back? You don’t know what you’re getting yourself in to. I’m mad powerful and really not that well in the head!”
Draco nodded calmly. “I’m aware. It doesn’t matter, though, because I know I’ll never have to deliver. You won’t go bad, I just pledged my life to the fact. I suggest you don’t prove me wrong. I will make sure you suffer for it if you do, Potter.”
Harry remained silent, looking out into the darkness while he let Draco’s words sink in. He sighed, turning to watch his hands tremble in Draco’s. “…I’m afraid. I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid before in my whole life.”
Gods, how could he just turn his insides around like that? It was like all of Potter’s pain was just flowing into him through their linked hands. “I know, but you don’t have to be anymore. I won’t let you fall.”
“You’ll really save me from myself?” Harry whispered desperately. “Really?”
“Really.” Potter had been hurt, bad. People had trampled him, torn at him until he was here, broken without anything left to hide behind. Hurting Potter was like kicking a puppy. He sighed when Harry began to make soft hiccupping sobs. Without hesitating he pulled pathetic, broken Scarhead into his arms and let him cry it out. He wanted to be indifferent but at some point during the week that easy, apathetic feeling had disappeared when it came to the erratic Gryffindor. …Liar. He had never been able to be indifferent when it came to Harry.
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Harry gasped, the vision shattering. He blinked, peering drowsily through the darkness to where Draco was calling his name. “What’s wrong?”
“Your claws!” Draco hissed, twitching with each movement Harry inadvertently made.
Following his arm, Harry was surprised to find his nails had indeed made an appearance and were digging into Draco’s smooth stomach. Long red scratches, some oozing blood, decorated the pale flesh liberally. “Sorry. It was a nightmare… sorry.” He immediately withdrew his claws back to innocent looking nails. “Here… let me heal it. I’m really sorry Malfoy… I didn’t realize…” Gods, he couldn’t even sleep without hurting someone. Malfoy wouldn’t have even been put at risk if he hadn’t forced him to stay.
“It’s fine Potter; just make it stop!” Draco whimpered. “…I don’t do pain well- Oh hell… what are you…? Gods…” He trailed off with a weak moan.
Dismissing the hands tangling in his hair, Harry continued lapping at the wounds; the natural enzymes in his saliva quickly knitted the torn flesh back together. He really felt horrible about hurting Malfoy. He had promised himself he would keep control and yet already a simple nightmare had destroyed it- His nose twitched, the scent of blood and something he didn’t recognize pooling heat through him in a way he had only noticed when waking from vague dreams filled with the heated press of flesh. Sliding his hand over Draco’s flat stomach, that smelled far too interesting than it should, he checked to make sure no scars remained. “How’s it feel?”
“…Malfoy?”
When Draco still refused to answer, he pulled himself up on his arms and crawled up the boy’s shuddering form. Malfoy really didn’t handle pain well at all; he was shaking like a leaf. “I have nightmares a lot. I see things… things that shouldn’t be seen by anyone… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Mouth gasping soft pants, Draco managed to open his eyes and focus on the glowing green. “Go back to sleep, Potter… before I’m forced to kill you.”
“I, uh… alright.” Harry sighed tiredly, sinking back down. Nuzzling into Draco’s side, he made sure he kept his hands from the Slytherin’s form this time. Still, it took him longer than normal to fall back asleep. Draco’s breathing wouldn’t calm and, between the guilt and the curious smell, his mind refused to stop its crazed running for a long time.
*******
It wouldn’t stop. He had told himself to calm down, but his body refused to obey, and now his eyes were shining like bloody bonfires. Thankfully, it did help him find the door in the darkness. Scrambling silently to his feet, Draco walked awkwardly to the door and opened it. A shifting of cloth made him glance back. Shit. “Bathroom.” He mumbled, waiting for the flash of understanding in the green eyes before he fled out the door.
Gods damn Potter.
He walked as fast as he dared to his bedroom and than locked himself into the bathroom. Placing the seat down, he sprawled out on the toilet, whimpering at the way his pants pinched at his skin. Who the fuck licked like that? A normal person would have cast a damn healing spell, but nooo, not that idiot. With shaky hands, he pulled his shirt up to check where the wounds should be but, surprisingly, were gone.
Dear gods, he had actually intended on healing him. Was Potter that bloody naïve, pawing at him like that? He had done a good job at it; not even a scratch remained. Touching the healed skin, he let out a long, uneven breath. Alright… this wasn’t going to go away. Swallowing thickly, he carefully unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Bloody… Thank goodness for cleaning spells. He peeled his boxers from where they were sticking, gasping at the sensation when it caught on his cock. “Hell.” Fucking Potter. Here he was, forced to wank in the bathroom like a degenerate, just because the idiot couldn’t keep his bloody claws to himself.
…Damn, that sounded crazy even to him.
Spreading his legs wider, he shifted to a more comfortable position and wrapped his hand around his aching prick. Damn, he had waited too long; it practically hurt… Fucking Potter. He fished out his wand and cast a lubrication spell to help ease some of the discomfort. “Oh gods…” Head thrown back, he let his eyes fall shut and gave all his focus to the hot, tight sensation moving around his cock. …Why had he been angry again? Because it just had to be that idiot… with those freaky eyes that branded… Gods, that tongue of his should be outlawed. Unconsciously, his free hand began to reenact the motions of Harry’s odd healing technique over his sensitive abdomen. He was coming before he knew it. Wound so tight, his orgasm was ripped from his body, leaving his shaking and feeling far from satisfied.
He was going to have to kill himself; there was nothing else to it. No, wait… he always had denial. Denial had been his greatest asset during the years. Yeah, that could work. Let’s be serious, no matter how fucking hot the bastard was now, it was still scrawny, messy haired Scarhead that would risk his life over a stupid Remembrall… gods, but he was hot. That tongue of his just got him thinking of those pouty lips, and beautiful, predatory face framed with that sexy, mess of hair that felt like silk from what he remembered… Could you Avada Kedavra yourself? Here he had been laughing at the twins who had to deal with his Veela attractiveness. Karma was a bitch.
He frowned, casting a cleaning charm and making himself presentable. He had gotten used to being the one desired; he had never had to deal with this new feeling. When you live with the knowledge that you can only sleep with one person for your entire life, you learn to squelch that little flame before you get yourself in deep shit. Not that it meant anything… it was just his Veela being annoying. It could have been anyone. There was nothing wrong with lusting…even if it was Potter- Yeah, there was, because it was fucking Potter!
It didn’t matter. He was going to get past this. The twins had managed to get along with him. Even though he was well aware that, if Voldemort hadn’t been ready to kill them, they would have been in his robes in an instant. And it wasn’t like it was completely twenty-four seven… he’d just have to stop looking at the git. Potter wasn’t going to be all clingy forever and it wasn’t like the boy liked him in that way…
Speaking of which, he was probably waiting. Doing a final sweep of the bathroom, he unlocked the door and shuffled out down the hall. He was too nice; that was his problem. Potter had to go and save his life and now he had to deal with all the baggage that went along with being stuck with the Golden Boy. Bloody karma…
Glowing green eyes greeted him from the darkness of the closet and he almost stepped back into the safety of the hall. Be cool, damn it. It’s not like he knew anything.
“You alright?” Harry asked quietly.
“Not really.” Draco shut the door behind him and plopped down on the pillow. “How do you feel? Is the foreign magic gone? Any headaches or irrational fear of something disrupting your energy?”
“I feel better now.” Harry lay down on his side and continued to watch Draco. “I think you help. Your energy… I noticed when I first got here that it took away the bad energy clinging from the shit that happened earlier… I’m sorry about hurting you. Really, really sorry.”
Draco snorted, rolling his eyes at Harry’s distressed face. “You scratched me. Get over it. I have.”
Harry sat up with a frown. “I could have killed you. Listen; just… let’s forget this. I don’t want to hurt you. I get bad nightmares; that last one was tame compared to the horrors I’ve woken up from. I don’t want to be responsible for inadvertently gutting you while I’m taking a nap.”
Huh… that could make things easy. …Gods, the idiot looked so pathetic, though. How could he really think he could kill him in his sleep? Idiot. “Are you done?”
“Huh?” Harry blinked, biting his lip nervously. “Err, yeah. I guess.”
“Good.” Draco sighed, leaning heavily against the idiot with the pathetic green eyes that showed no signs of gold, thank you gods. “You’re not going to kill me. You haven’t yet, and it’s been days, and you’ve woken with screams that have sent my blood curdling… Plus, you wouldn’t have the guts. You’re a very nice person, Potter, and, as loathe as I am to admit it, I respect you and find your energy comforting as well. As long as you want to cling I’ll be here for you, and not just because you saved my life.”
There, he had admitted it. It hadn’t killed him to… only sent his stomach flipping… Dear gods… alright, just breath. Breathe. “That said; we are going to forget any of this ever happened and, if you ever mention what I just said to anyone, I will be forced to kill you. Understand?” Draco glared until Harry nodded hesitantly. “Good. Did you want to go back to sleep now or are you going to sulk and worry if you’re truly evil instead?” He drawled teasingly, hoping to lighten the awkward mood.
“Errr… sleep, I guess.” Harry whispered, too confused to decide if he should be embarrassed or worried that Draco had guessed exactly what he was thinking. “…Do you think I’m that… truly, um, evil?”
Gods, what had he done to deserve this? …Oh yeah… Shaking the irrelevant passed misdeeds from his mind, Draco tilted his head up and to the side. “Right in the eyes, Potter. Only chance you’ll get.”
Harry stared hesitantly into the silver. Sighing, he looked away. “…Forget it. I don’t want to know.”
“Coward.”
“What the-fuck off!” Harry snapped back, eyes flashing warningly.
“I just call it like I see it, Potter. What, too afraid to look me in the eyes? Or is it the truth you don’t want to see…?” Draco smiled sweetly.
Growling, Harry grabbed Draco’s silver hair in frustration and locked their gaze. “I’m not afraid of you!”
“Prove it.” He growled back, the light shining from his eyes bright enough to light up the other boy’s face inches from his own. “Ask me.”
“Fine!” Harry hissed, his buried rage at the whole situation boiling to the surface. “Do you think I’m evil, a monster, capable of tearing you apart on the slightest bloody whim? Do you think I’m going to kill you because I can’t control this insane power inside me? Am I capable of destroying the fucking world?! They hurt me! They hurt me bad, and part of me wants to make them all pay! When I step into that school, surrounded by all of my would-be friends, am I going to kill them? Torture them? Make them suffer the same way they made me? Do you think I’m bloody evil now?!” He stopped; breathing heavily with his fingers too tight in Draco’s hair, but neither seemed to notice.
“No.” Draco said calmly, his gaze never wavering.
“See-wait… no?” Harry furrowed his brows in confusion. “Whaddya mean, no?”
“No, I don’t think you’re evil. No, I don’t think you’re going to destroy the world, or kill me by accident, or your friends, etcetera.” He carefully extracted Harry’s hand from his hair and held it between his two, gently trailing his fingers over his knuckles. “You’re not a monster, Potter. You’re just damaged, and confused, and too nice for your own good. Evil people don’t get damaged; they don’t feel anything. You have to stop doing this to yourself.”
Harry gulped, his emotions running across his face as quickly as they came. “I… I don’t think I can. I can’t-it’s just what you think, it’s not true!” Harry gasped out, trying to pull away. “You don’t know! You don’t know what goes on inside my head. …You don’t know what I’ve seen!”
Hands firmly holding Harry in place, Draco kept his tone even. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t know what’s goes on in my head or all the horrors I’ve seen, either. You still care what I think. You still cared enough to save me. You still cling to me like a damn child. And I still believe, no matter how fucked up you are, that you’ll do what you think is right.” He sighed as Harry relaxed a bit, but his eyes were still wild with doubt and would need more convincing.
“Listen, you don’t have to be bloody perfect to be a good person; I’m a good person… don’t make that face. I’m also selfish, vain, arrogant, downright mean at times, and I enjoy exploiting people’s insecurities against them just to see that twinge of pain on their faces. That’s just the shit I play at. I’m capable of evil and, if my power wasn’t sealed, I could do a lot of bad things to this world… but I won’t. It’s all choices and situations, and no, you never really know if you’ll do the right thing, but it doesn’t keep you from going on and living, just the same. That’s what matters.”
Harry shook his head blindly but his hysteria had faded. “It’s not the same… I’m not- I think I hate them. Really, truly hate them. They abandoned me; they all deserted me and left me to die. I thought that I could forgive them but, but it hurts so much. It’s not right; it’s not fair that it all has to be dumped on me. Is it so bad to ask for one person to care? They were supposed to care.”
Draco took a long breath and sat up straighter. It seemed drastic measures were in order. “I’ll make a deal with you, Potter, a pact. Do you know what a Wizard’s Pact is?”
“…No, not really.” Harry whispered glumly.
“It’s a promise between wizards, that once spoken, is magically written into the Book of Pacts. If you break the promise you’ll be cursed, possibly even killed, equivalent to what type of promise you made. I can’t save you from going evil, Potter; that’s a choice you make, and honestly, I don’t think you ever will. But I promise, on a Wizard’s Pact, that I will save you and the world from yourself if you lose your soul to evil. Whatever it takes, I will find the power to stop you.” He gave Harry’s hand an extra squeeze, sealing the pact.
“Malfoy… you can’t-you can’t make a promise like that.” Harry had shaken out of his shock to gape in horror. “Take it back. Can you take it back? You don’t know what you’re getting yourself in to. I’m mad powerful and really not that well in the head!”
Draco nodded calmly. “I’m aware. It doesn’t matter, though, because I know I’ll never have to deliver. You won’t go bad, I just pledged my life to the fact. I suggest you don’t prove me wrong. I will make sure you suffer for it if you do, Potter.”
Harry remained silent, looking out into the darkness while he let Draco’s words sink in. He sighed, turning to watch his hands tremble in Draco’s. “…I’m afraid. I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid before in my whole life.”
Gods, how could he just turn his insides around like that? It was like all of Potter’s pain was just flowing into him through their linked hands. “I know, but you don’t have to be anymore. I won’t let you fall.”
“You’ll really save me from myself?” Harry whispered desperately. “Really?”
“Really.” Potter had been hurt, bad. People had trampled him, torn at him until he was here, broken without anything left to hide behind. Hurting Potter was like kicking a puppy. He sighed when Harry began to make soft hiccupping sobs. Without hesitating he pulled pathetic, broken Scarhead into his arms and let him cry it out. He wanted to be indifferent but at some point during the week that easy, apathetic feeling had disappeared when it came to the erratic Gryffindor. …Liar. He had never been able to be indifferent when it came to Harry.
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