Break
Somehow, in the short time he had been gone, the manor had gotten bigger and scary. Once he would giggle and hide in the many rooms, playing outside and sneaking between walls. The manor was his home, there was always music playing and his mother and father were always there to catch him when he climbed too high in the trees out back.
Now he sat on the other end of the long dinner table, eating in deafening wordlessness, chewing the only sound despite there being two people in the room.
His father had not greeted him, in fact this was their first interaction since he arrived yesterday. Narcissa was still in Paris and had no idea her son was home. Draco had left LuLu at Hogwarts out of fear that his father would hurt her somehow, but Lucius had barely acknowledged him the past day. It was almost nice…
“I understand that mistake of an existence, Hagrid, has not been punished for the wound he inflicted on your arm…”
Lucius’s voice echoes in the dinner hall, loud and unwelcome. Draco gulps, they’re playing a game tonight. “He has,” Draco begins carefully, “Strangely, some are convinced the wound did not come from the Hippogriff.”
“Strange indeed. I’ll simply have to take care of that, won’t I?”
Draco stiffens. “What do you mean? There is nothing to take care of.”
“The creature hurt you, that is unacceptable! It must be put down immediately-”
“ You hurt me!” Draco retorts before he can stop himself, his father calmly puts down his fork and knife.
The distance between them couldn’t give him time to prepare even if he could see into the future. One second Lucius is 30 chairs away from him, and the next Draco is being held by his throat against the wall.
“ I hurt you?! No, you insolent fool! I make you strong! I purge the weakness that has poisoned you and I will see that filthy animal dead!”
Draco struggles against his hold, “Buckbeak hasn’t done anything wrong! He’s innocent-”
Lucius glares at him and suddenly he can’t speak anymore, like his air pipes are clogging. His father has him in some type of hold by his wand, he can’t even blink.
“Oh, son, all innocents die eventually.”
Then he’s moving, suspended by nothing. Lucius takes him to a familiar room where the air is colder than the snow falling outside. His wand is removed and put right by the window, a taunt no doubt, because then Draco is stripped to a thin t-shirt and shorts, and thrown into the room with ten Dementors. He’s too busy screaming to hear it lock.
----------
So far, Harry Potter is having a weird Christmas break. Ron and Hermione had drug him to see Hagrid on the second day, which had been a disaster that somehow resulted in them going to the library- a place he was hoping to avoid on break. It’s for a good cause though, and midway through his book a small white ball of fluff had hopped onto his lap and begun purring.
“Um?”
Hermione and Ron looked over at the white kitten in his lap, Ron moving to pet it within a second while Hermione frowned.
“Harry, why is Draco Malfoy’s Kneazle so taken with you?”
Ron recoils, “This adorable thing is Malfoy’s?! ”
“I think her name is LuLu?” Harry gets a meow in return as the thing curls back in his lap, still purring.
Hermione puts her books down, “Harry. Do you know anything about Kneazles?”
Harry shakes his head ‘no’, Ron, apparently over his animosity or lured by the cute noises the thing makes, joins him in petting her. Hermione doesn't like it one bit.
“Listen to me, both of you. This is very weird. Kneazles are known for their magical abilities. They protect their owners, are extremely loyal, and, this is the weird part you both need to listen to!”
Ron and Harry look up from LuLu at her soft yell, not liking her expression.
“Kneazles only like people who are good for their owner. Like how Crookshanks likes the two of you, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, my parents, and Dumbledore. Do you understand? LuLu is Malfoy’s Kneazle, she shouldn’t like us!”
They don’t point out that during her speech she had inched closer and began lightly brushing her thumb across a perky white ear. LuLu gives her a questioning look, and then a single lick on her hand.
“See?!” Hermione takes a second to control her voice, “LuLu gave me a kiss, she’s purring in your lap! That isn’t natural; we’re Malfoy’s enemies, aren’t we? He hates us!”
Ron shrugs, “Maybe she just wants to spend time with people who aren’t crazy.”
LuLu stands and glares at him for the remark, only calming once Harry picks her up and rubs between her ears. “Probably shouldn’t insult her owner in front of her….”
“Whatever, she is adorable and sweet, but I’m willing to bet my little Crookshanks won’t like her, plus we have work to do.”
Harry does put the cat down...on his lap that is. He absently pets her and wonders what Malfoy is up to right now. He’d been forced home, which sucked for him because break would’ve been the perfect time to corner the blonde and force him to fess up. Not actually hating Malfoy was weirder than...well everything.
Hating Malfoy had been a part of him since first year, but how could he hate him when he knew more now? He had seen his face in the infirmary...that wasn’t something someone could fake. LuLu liking him makes more sense than he can share with his friends right now. He can’t, not until he has all the facts, which he won’t have until Malfoy decides to share with him, and who knows when that would be.
He’s drawn out of his thoughts when LuLu hopes down from his lap and prances over to Crookshanks. The trio at the table watch the two cats greet each other and link tails, purring and nuzzling against each other.
Harry can’t hold his laughter at the face Hermione makes.
She, of course, gets irrationally irritated at it and storms out of the library, Ron on her heels.
“I guess it’s just the three of us, then.”
Crookshanks snorts at him, but LuLu returns to his side, gazing up at him with the bluest eyes and sweetest pur. Harry all but melts on the spot.
That’s how he finds himself with Malfoy’s Kneazle glued to his side for the next few days. He keeps looking for answers to Hagrid’s problem, hanging out with his friends who eventually stop caring who LuLu belongs to because she’s so bloody cute. On the forth morning of break, he actually wakes up to her and Hedgwing cuddling by the window and decides to visit Hagrid again after dinner and learn a little more about his sudden new creature friend.
Hagrid gives him loads of facts, so interested in the topic that he almost forgets Buckbeak’s issue. White Kneazles are apparently prestigious, and have a deeper connection once they’ve bonded. Harry had politely asked for Hagrid not to tell him what that meant. He already knew he was something different to Malfoy than the boy let on, but he wasn’t ready to figure that out quite yet.
Not with a murder out to get him, maybe next year though.
Harry had, to his dismay, picked up on some of LuLu’s mannerisms. She loves to be by fires, does not like the cold. She demands chicken when she sees it, and whines when someone tries to take off her sweater. It smells like a mix of cat and citrus spice, Harry tries not to dwell on it.
Given how very clear she made it that she hates going outside, he’s rather surprised to see her racing out of the front doors as he comes back to the castle from his late visit with Hagrid. It’s well past one in the morning, another factor that catches him off guard because she’s usually deep asleep by now. Where on Earth could she be going?
Harry knows a killer is after him, he knows Hermione is going to kick his ass for this later, but he still follows her down the hill and bloody hell is he glad he did.
He really wouldn’t have recognized him if it weren’t for LuLu meowing frantically.
Draco Malfoy walks barefoot towards the castle, wearing a thin shirt and shorts. He’s limping and when Harry starts running to him, he can see blood and bruises everywhere. The boy’s wand hangs in his hand, but he doesn’t stop moving at the same steady pace, trudging forward through the snow.
“Malfoy! What happened to you?”
Harry finally reaches him and grabs him by his shoulder, dear Merlin he can feel the other’s cold body through his gloves. He quickly shucks off his coat and throws it on the thin shoulders, lifting Malfoy’s face towards him, inspecting the right black eye.
The cuts and scrapes on the shivering boy isn’t what gets him. It’s the dead look in his eyes, like he can’t even see Harry, like he’s looking into the darkest pit of despair and can’t see a way out. And he’s still standing barefoot in the snow, LuLu frantically meowing at him.
“Okay.” Harry whispers. He has to do something and do it now. Malfoy is hurt, he clearly needs medical attention, and someone is going to have to help because Madam Pomfrey went home to visit her family.. He turns to LuLu. “Go get Dumbledore and meet me in the infirmary.”
LuLu takes off with one last look at Malfoy.
Harry watches her go, tearing off his beanie and tucking Malfoy’s head into it.
“Okay, Malfoy. You can’t feel your feet, but you can still walk, right?”
Malfoy doesn’t respond. He just stands there and looks into nothingness, so Harry grabs his arm and hauls him inside, pulling the beanie low so no one can tell who it is. Something tells him the boy wouldn’t like for the whole school to know he did, in fact, have a heart. His head races with explanations, but he knows who did this. Harry has never been an idiot, and while he may not know what happened, he sure as hell can take an educated fucking guess.
Dumbledore beats him to the infirmary and curses a storm he didn’t think the old man was capable of when he sees them.
“Quickly, get him over here, LuLu has already gone to fetch Professor Snape, I need you to get me water.”
“Water?”
“I cannot heal the wound on his arm with regular magic, I will need water and bandages. Lots of them.”
Harry watches Dumbledore force Malfoy to sit on the bed, still barely alive. He thankfully gets the boy cleaned and warm enough that his fingers aren’t blue before Snape comes in. The man freaks out at the bruises alone.
“What...the... fuck happened ?!”
“Severus! We are in the presence of children!”
Snape disregards him completely, striding over to Malfoy and lifting his chin, going over several assessments. Harry brings more bandages and warm water; Dumbledore instructs him to clean the cut on Malfoy’s arm. It’s in the same spot as his wound from Buckbeak...he washes it gently, listening closely to the conversation above him.
“I’ve seen this before, it’s the look of a prisoner from Azkaban. His father must have put him in the Dementor room again….”
“ Dementor room ?! Did you know about this, Albus? You saw how he was when he came back after summer, how dare you let him return to that man!”
“He asked that I let him,” Dumbledore snaps back, wand never ceasing, “He was worried about his position, his father cannot know-”
“Damn his father!” Snape cries, “Look at what that bastard has done to him! He’s barely alive, it will take him weeks to recover-”
“But he will recover, won’t he?”
Two heads turn to him, sitting beside Malfoy closer than he would like to provide warmth. Spells could only do much when you’d been in the cold for so long. Malfoy’s arm doesn’t tremble in his grasp, and even though he had originally flinched when Harry had pressed the damp cloth on the wound, Malfoy seemed much more relaxed.
“What are you doing here?” Snape sneers. Dumbledore opens his mouth to respond, but Harry beats him to it.
“I found him. LuLu led me to him, she’s been under my feet all week, so when she started running I followed.”
“You need to leave-”
“No.” Harry doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but he leans a bit closer to the boy, “Malfoy was there for me when I was in here. He’s saved my life before, I can’t just leave him now. You know I’d just sneak back down here when the two of you fall asleep anyways.”
Snape looks ready to murder him, but Dumbledore just smiles. “He’s right, Severus. Plus, he’s being helpful.”
No one in their right mind argues with Dumbledore, not even Snape. Or Harry, for that matter, because a few hours later he finds himself sitting next to Malfoy’s bed, keeping watch and trying to talk the boy to sleep before the Headmaster comes back.
Storm-grey dead eyes stay fixed on the ceiling and because Harry is fresh out of ideas, he places LuLu on the bed and grabs his wand, hating how Malfoy flinches at the sight of it. He doesn’t do much, just mumbles a quick ‘Incendio’ and ‘Draconifors’. To his relief, Malfoy’s eyes lock onto the flying fire taking the shape of a tiny dragon.
The creature flies above him, one Harry’s become extremely familiar with on sleepless nights. He watches Malfoy tighten his arm around LuLu and slowly shut his eyes, and for a moment he almost forgets about Black. And then his stomach grumbles….fuck, he’d forgotten dinner.
----------
“You’re lucky Lupin was there to intercept you, you know it’s not safe to wonder about the school at night.”
That’s weird. Draco doesn’t remember Dumbledore being in his house.
“I know sir, but Black can’t get in and-”
Harry is here? What the fuck? Who let him in?
“It does not change the fact that Black is after you….”
Who is Black? Is he the one that brought Harry in? Once he finds out what he looks like that guy will dead as-
“But you said yourself that Hogwarts can’t be breached….please stop hiding things from me, Headmaster. You see where that’s gotten Malfoy…”
Malfoy? Is his father here? Oh fuck. Are Potter and his father in the same house? Surely that’s why Dumbledore is here. That’s got to be the reason.
“I’ll be back. Send LuLu when he wakes.”
Not good. Dumbledore can’t just leave! He can’t protect Potter right now! Or can he? Either way, he can’t sleep anymore, he has to open his eyes, and at least try to get Potter out of here safely...he can handle the torture. Harry can’t.
Draco peeks open one eye and is stunned to see that instead of the dark dungeon walls he’s grown so used to, light is streaming in. If he hasn’t gone crazy, there’s a bed beneath him and he’s warm . Like he can actually feel his fingers and toes again...amazing! A small source of heat radiates from his side...LuLu, no doubt. He’d spent one too many days in here at the beginning of the semester to forget what the infirmary looks like, if only he could piece together the bits that brought him back to these wretched sheets.
“Malfoy?”
Draco turns his head to the familiar voice and Harry Potter is there. In the chair next to his bed, looking oddly worried and relieved at the same time. Really, how many emotions could the boy have at one time? No wonder he was always such a mess.
“Please tell me you’re going to talk this time. The last few days have been really creepy.”
“I’m not the one watching other people sleep,” Draco croaks out and Merlin, he knows it’s been awhile since he’s done anything but scream but there’s no reason for talking to hurt. Wait a minute… “Days?!” He croaks again, “What do you mean days?!”
Potter hands him some water that he drowns, trying to ignore the way his stomach grumbles.
“Well, you’ve been in and out for about four days now-”
Draco lurches up and instantly the room starts to fade. Two hands grip his shoulders and oh right- Potter is speaking to him. “-should probably take it slowly. Actually, I probably need to send LuLu-”
“No!” Thank everything he doesn’t sound like a dying toad now, “Dumbledore will have questions and I frankly don’t have answers at the moment.” Draco groans, “He’ll probably rummage through my memories, dammit...Wait a minute!” he turns a sharp gaze on the scruffy boy in front of him, “Why the hell did he leave you to look after me?!”
Potter gives him a very nervous grin that makes him very anxious, “Like I said...you’ve missed a lot.”