Title: Again
Author: WintersJuly ( )
Artwork: Picture by Anjali
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: here it is - my first fic and my first challenge fic :) This scribble is dedicated to Diana Sprinkle, who draw a wonderful picture that made me smile.
Dear Son,
We would like to inform you that in our decease, all the holdings of the Malfoy name will be inherited by you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, the last of the Malfoys, when you reach the age of eighteen.
Remember that a Malfoy must always have his pride if nothing else.
Your Father and Mother.
***
He sat on the floor of the owlery, two bottles of wine by his side and one in his hand. He was, quite frankly, on his way to becoming extremely drunk.
A surprised, "Malfoy." Potter was frowning down at him, his broom and a piece of paper clutched in his hands.
"Naughty Potter is out of bed." Draco slurred slightly.
"So are you, Malfoy."
"But I've got a sound reason."
Incredulous look from green eyes. "What then?"
"I'm getting systematically drunk. What does it look like, Potter?" Draco was quite pleased to find that he could still answer as usual, even while drunk.
"You're what?"
"I never knew you had a hearing problem, Potter."
"Shut up, Malfoy, I don't."
He laughed softly.
A long, puzzled stare from Potter. "What are you laughing about?"
"You."
"Why?"
"Come here and I'll tell you."
Potter shuffled closer, instinctively clutching his bloom and the now very crumpled up piece of paper. Draco grinned.
He pulled Potter down to his level and pressed his lips almost close enough to Potter's ear to touch it and whispered, very softly, "I'm laughing at you because..."Potter waited with baited breath.
"...because you're such a git." Potter blinked at him and Draco shoved Potter back and smirked triumphantly. He raised one hand, and clutched in his long fingers was the little crumpled piece of paper.
"Give that back, Malfoy!"
"Whatever for, Potter? Let me have a... little... peek."
"No!" Potter lunged forward clumsily and Draco batted him aside with one hand and unfolded the paper.
Dear Sirius,
I hope you're okay now, I know Pig is a bit... hyperactive for an owl, but you gave him to Ron in the first place. Ron says he hates Pig but I know he loves him to bits. And thanks for the card, I never knew the coral reefs were so nice. I've never been there. The Dursleys went once when I was nine but they wouldn't let me come because they said the plane ticket cost too much.
School's been okay. Hermione's studying for the Newts already though, and she making me and Ron study with her even though we told her Newts weren't for another six months.
And don't worry about me, the sleeping draughts Snape brews work really well. They taste really bad though. I bet he makes them taste bad on purpose.
And you're really coming? I mean really coming here? With Remus? In two months? Neat. Hope you and Buckbeak aren't living off rats anymore though. Just to be sure, I sent some galleons along too.
Harry
"Well, well. Writing to a mass murderer."
"He's innocent!"
Draco smirked. Potter was just so easy to bait. "I know he's innocent, but they," he pointed to the Hogwarts castle, "don't. So... what if, this gets into their hands... that he's coming to Hogwarts... with the werewolf. I wonder Potter, how would they react?"
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me," he smirked.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Come here."
"No."
"I will tell, you know."
Potter moved to Draco's side reluctantly. And to Draco, the starry sky must have been brighter than he'd thought because he had a headache and his stomach grumbled in protest of the content being steadily pumped into it and he'd must have been very, very drunk because the first thing that he told Potter he wanted was -
"I want us to start again."
***
"This is weird, Malfoy. We can't start again."
"Yes, we can," said Draco, with the confidence of the aristocratic.
Of course he was lying a bit but Potter, no - must call him Harry now, didn't need to know that. Perhaps their friendship could have never began and could never be mended. Not with everything in between them. And Draco wasn't so sure why he had asked Potter for something like this. But oh well, a Malfoy never takes anything back so he'll have to live through it.
"Malfoy, six years of hate can't just go out the window."
"Yes it can."
"You're bloody crazy."
"I am perfectly sane, thank you very much. Why can't this work?"
Potter flailed his hands around. "Well - I don't know, it just won't."
"It will, or everyone will know of the godfather coming in two months. Well then, what's you're favourite colour?"
Potter muttered.
"What did you say?" Draco demanded.
"I said blue," he said surly.
"Isn't that grand? Mine is green. So what is your favourite food?"
"Pizza," Potter muttered petulantly.
"Ah, I love pasta myself. What team do you go for?"
"In Quidditch?"
Draco threw up his hands in exasperation. "What else, Potter?"
"Sorry."
"You don't look it but I'll pass over that."
"Well I don't know any teams - "
"I can't believe you don't know any, Potter, isn't Quidditch your favourite sport? You are quite pathetic sometimes. Any hobbies?"
"Um... playing Quidditch, um... Malfoy this sounds more like Snape questioning me, you know. "
"Shut up Potter. Well I like to piss you, Weasel and the Mudblood off, and I like to - "
Harry punched Malfoy in the nose.
***
"Supposed friends don't go punching other people in the nose." Draco scowled, tentatively feeling his newly healed nose.
"It. was. completely. your. fault."
Draco noticed Potter had skillfully avoided saying he was anything to Draco.
"Shut up, Potter. I will beat you into the ground so hard you'll - "
Harry laughed. "With those scrawny arms of yours?"
Draco lunged at him.
***
"Malfoy?"
"What Potter, you annoying sod?" Draco scowled. No one called his manly arms scrawny and got away with it.
"Why don't we not hit each other," Harry suggested.
"Gee Potter, what a brilliant idea. Wasn't that what I trying to do in the first place by becoming friends?"
"Malfoy, you don't have any friends, not if you make friends like that."
Draco was silent.
***
"You know he's coming, Malfoy?"
"Do you?" Draco asked.
"Did your Death Eaters tell you?"
"What do you think?"
"Stop answering me in questions, Malfoy," Harry said irritably.
"Stop asking them."
"Malfoy..."
"A deal, Potter."
"What?"
"If you don't ask about my family, I won't ask about Voldemort. Deal?"
"Deal."
***
"You know Father used to say 'A Malfoy is only a Malfoy when he has his pride'."
"Used to?"
"He's dead, Potter."
"Oh." A pause. "Sorry."
Draco smiled bitterly. "Don't pretend that you even care one way or the other."
"I don't. But I know what it's like to not have parents."
"...thanks."
***
"Potter?" Draco drawled.
"Yeah?"
"What do the mudblo - Granger and Weasel ("It's not Weasel.") whatever Potter, think about you and me?"
"Well..."
"They don't know, do they?" Draco guessed shrewdly.
Harry shook his head.
"You ever plan on telling them?"
Harry shrugged.
"They won't like it, will they?"
"Ron hates your guts," Harry said.
"I know."
***
"When's Black coming, Harry?"
"Today!"
Draco smiled indulgently. "How long is he staying?"
Harry fell silent. "I don't know."
***
"They punched you, didn't they?"
"Sod off, Potter."
"Back to Potter now, Draco?"
"Go away."
"Why don't you go to Madam Pomfrey? She'll fix you up."
Draco snorted. "As if. She'll say it was my fault for getting into a fight. She's as biased as the rest of you."
"You didn't start it?"
"No!" Draco scowled.
"So Ron and Seamus hit you first?"
"What you think I am? As if a Malfoy would do something so plebian as hit someone physically."
"Should have guessed," Harry muttered. "I am going to kill those two."
"With knives and hooks?" Draco asked hopefully.
"With my bare hands," Harry answered grimly.
***
"Did you get in trouble?"
"A week of detention with McGonagall."
"Harry you stupid git."
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Do you have to hit me so hard?"
"That was for being a stupid reckless hero, and that is for being an idiot and that one was for being you."
"Shut up, Draco." Harry said, rubbing his arm.
Draco laughed.
***
Draco sat on Harry's bed, flipping through the pages of his photo album.
"Is that your dad and Black?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Yes." Harry said cautiously. "What about them?"
"I never knew under that shaggy hair that Black could be hot."
Harry stared at him. "Did you just call my godfather hot?"
"Well he is."
"Eww." A pause. "I never knew you were gay."
"I didn't either, until last year."
Harry furrowed his brow. "How do you know?"
Draco shrugged. "I guessed I looked at some boy and decided that he did it for me better than girls."
"That's all?"
"Well no. There was the 'God do I like boys or girls?' stage and the 'Oh Merlin I really do like boys, what in the world do I do,' stage and the, 'oh well, I can't do anything about it so deal with it,' stage."
"I bet you, the boy you looked at was me."
"As if." Draco scoffed, his cheeks very red.
***
Draco lay heavily against Harry's shoulder, eyes drooping close, drunk and almost passed out.
"I can't believe you drank that much," Harry said, struggling to hold Draco up.
"Harry?"
"Yes, Draco, what is it?"
"It hurts." Draco said plaintively.
"What hurts?"
Draco sniffed, and pointed at his chest.
"Why?"
Tears made their way down his pale cheeks, and Draco clutched onto Harry's arm, and buried his head in Harry's neck.
"They left me."
Harry held him close. "I won't leave you, Draco."
***
"Will you join them?"
"Who?"
"The Death Eaters."
"Does it look like I want to die?"
Harry frowned. "Well, no."
"So does that answer your question?"
"...no."
"You should know that Death Eaters... die very fast. Either from the aurors, from each other, or from Voldemort. I don't want to die from something I only partly believe in. I've talked to him, Voldemort. And you know what, he's insane, Harry. Completely. And he killed my parents."
"So what you were saying was that you wouldn't join him."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, Harry."
"Oh."
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Draco said fondly.
"What?"
He smiled. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
***
"Tired, Harry."
"Yes, yes, I'm taking you to bed." Harry guided Draco to his room, careful to stay under the invisibility cloak.
He dropped Draco on his enormous, green sheeted bed.
"There. That's the last time I baby sit you." He turned to leave.
A whisper. "Don't go, Harry."
Harry sighed. "I won't, Draco. I'll be here."
***
Draco woke with the sound of heavy breathing and a weight in his arms. Harry had crawled into bed with him, and had curled up against him like a kitten. Draco smiled, and kissed him on the forehead.
***
"Can I?"
"Yes, Harry. People don't usually ask you know."
"But - I've never - "
"Never, Harry?"
"Never." Harry fidgeted.
"That's so like you. Innocent, sweet Harry Potter."
"Oh shut up, Draco."
"Gladly. Let me show you how instead."
Draco grabbed hold of Harry and kissed him.
***
"Do you know Mother loved Autumn leaves, Harry?"
Harry entwined their fingers tightly. "No. Why?"
"Because they can fly wherever they want, and no one can do anything about it."
"Oh."
"Do you know why I hated them?"
"No."
Draco caught a falling leave in his flat palm. And he studied it for a moment, head tilted to a side. His hand closed partly over it, about to crush it, but he paused. And let it fly away in the breeze.
"Because they died."