Drop to Hold You

What the fuck was that? Draco was back in his bed, thinking. He couldn't understand what was up with Potter. He had startled him in the hallway, but Potter... he almost seemed like he was expecting to run into him. He seemed concerned. Draco scoffed at himself, but it was nice to entertain the thought that someone cared. He wondered if the stupid Golden Boy would still care if he knew what Draco was about to do. The thought turned his stomach, he felt something in him run cold. He squeezed his eyes shut against the feeling like he was gripping tight to hold on to himself. He knew that if he stayed like this, sleep would come. Eventually, it did. Draco woke the next morning feeling okay. His disdain from last night was a distant memory, and his stomach felt horribly empty. He rose and carefully undressed and walked into his personal bathroom. He took his time washing his face, and taking a hot shower. The water relaxed his muscles, and when he was done, he dressed and opted not to go to breakfast. He stayed in his room reading. He had sneaked some muggle books with him, without his father noticing. He was currently in the middle of "1984" by George Orwell. The premise was frightening from a distance, but it was almost a comforting thought, a mindless existence. It thrilled him that there was even the possibility, but then, wasn't serving the Dark Lord almost the same? No, he shook the thought, that wasn't mindless. Just sharing a like mind.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, they had a reading assignment about the origin of the Unforgivable curses. It was a huge chapter out of a heavy set of books. The covers were so laden with dust they were almost unreadable. Snape stayed seated behind his desk with a smug look on his face. Close to the bell, he looked up, his slow voice leaking through the room. "Mr. Malfoy," he drawled. Draco quickly stopped working and snapped his head up, like an American soldier snapping to attention.

"Sir?" he addressed the teacher.

"I'd like for you to remain here after class, if I'm not," he paused, "imposing on your prior engagements." Draco nodded, and went back to work until the bell, he worked through it and didn't pack his things until all the students had shuffled out. (Much to Harry's pleasure, that included Ivan, who didn't even wait for Malfoy.)

"Sir?" Draco said once his things were in his bag, he looked around to check for emptiness and then walked up to the desk.

"Yes, Draco," he began. "How is your little project coming a long?" he asked. Draco fumbled, groping for words. He had yet to begin. Severus' lips curled at his struggle before he actually laughed at the boy.

"You snot," Draco muttered, laughing as he hopped up to sit on Severus' desk. If any other student happened to wander in, this would be a sight to see. He felt relieved that he and Severus were so close, and that he was the only student with whom the man was close. Unbreakable vow or not, Draco knew that Severus was in this for him. It was a great comfort to the boy. He wasn't supposed to know about the vow, but Severus told him everything. He always had, ever since second year when he realized how much Draco looked up to him.

"I kept you to tell you that it should be safe to begin now, you can use the Room of Requirement because there's no sense in moving the cabinet. It will be safe there. Are you familiar?" he paused for Draco's answer, which was an affirming nod. "Once you believe it is ready, you can start transporting animals, or objects."

"Objects, probably," Draco added.

"Once you are ready, Draco. As much as everyone may be pressuring you, it is of the utmost importance that you carry out this task correctly, that you do it well rather than quickly. Am I understood?" Severus spoke slowly, allowing Draco to absorb it word by word. He had a serious look in his eyes.

"Yes, thank you, sir." Draco then enjoyed the companionable silence for a moment. "Have you ever liked someone, Severus?" he asked. Severus balked.

"That's preposterous, of course I have, boy!" he answered. Draco looked as if he was squirming uncomfortably. This was the only place he had been honest in his life, alone with Severus.

"Well, what if it isn't that I like the person and I just like how they feel about me? Like, they care for me in a way no one else does. I appreciate it, but I don't necessarily know if I.." he thought for a moment, "reciprocate." He was struggling to word it right. "Is that normal?" he asked. His face was warm, he knew it. Severus nodded before he spoke.

"As long as you aren't leading anyone on, and that you maintain your focus. But, I must say, there is nothing wrong with accepting care from someone if they're willing to give it to you." Severus' explanation seemed to satisfy Draco so he changed the subject. "You may want to accompany me this afternoon to the shop to assure that you're set to begin."

"I've already done it," Draco told him, holding up and turning a clear vial over and over in his hands, unable to tell what it was. He was struggling not to be indignant, as he felt Severus had just discredited his prior effort.

"Well, you could go to Potions and watch Slughorn fawn over Potter, I'm fine with that as well," Severus teased. It made Draco smile, and he agreed to go along.
***

"It seems Mr. Malfoy isn't here, doesn't it, Mr. Valerii?" Professor Slughorn said loudly, leaning over Ivan's desk.

"It does, sir," he responded dryly. Harry could tell he didn't enjoy Slughorn's over the top personality.

"Well, this potion requires partners because Murtlaps aren't as easy to come by as one may think," Professor Slughorn said, Ivan looked at him expectantly. "Why don't you come work with our newest, Mr. Potter? I'm sure he'll appreciate your skill," he suggested. Harry gave a helpless look at Ron, then moved down to the seat next to Ivan. "Very well, then. You may begin." He flicked his wand and the ingredients flew from his desk to each of the pairs' desks. Harry gave Ivan a tight smile.

"Hello," he said, setting up the small cauldron. Ivan was reading over the page in the book.

"Hi, Harry." Ivan spoke with a slight Russian accent, it surprised Harry for some reason. "I've heard a lot of great things about you."

"Funny, the last time I heard that was from someone who pals around with Draco too," Harry said, but gave Ivan a grin.

"He doesn't say much about you at all. All of them are pretty consumed with themselves," Ivan explained as he started to carefully add pickling ingredients to the cauldron Harry was stirring.

"That's Slytherin for you," Harry told him. He nodded.

"I think the only reason I was sorted in was because I'm a pureblood. I'm nothing like any of the people I grew up with, sadly," Ivan said. Harry nodded.

"I know how that feels, definitely." The cauldron looked as though it would bubble over and Ivan lessened the flame, took over stirring so Harry could start separating the tentacles from the Murlap.

"They're nice people. At Durmstrang there are nice people as well. I think Draco is just refreshed for someone to not see him for his reputation." Harry nodded to that, smirking. Sometimes it didn't seem like he and Draco were that different. The conversation got lighter, and the rest of the class just went along. After they had packed up to leave, Harry said bye to Ivan.

"See you at tryouts, if not before!" he said, Ivan waved at him, and left to amble down the hall under the sour glares of his fellow Slytherins. At five he went to the Great Hall to eat. He joined Draco near their usual spot. He was already halfway through his meal.

"Hey, Ivan," Draco said after a sip of pumpkin juice. "How was Potions?"

"I worked with Harry, we made something with Murlaps," Ivan said. Draco almost choked on his drink. He felt like a stone just dropped in his stomach. He didn't know why anger started crawling up his body, curling his toes and reddening his ears. "Nice man, he is."

"You stay away from him, Ivan." Draco tried to keep his voice level, alarms were going off all over his body. Why was he feeling this way? "Just don't talk to him, don't look at him. Don't anything that has to do with him," Draco said quickly and quietly. Ivan could see in those silvery eyes that something wasn't right. He was about to defend himself but shrunk back.

"I didn't know it was that way, drook," he apologized. Draco kind of withered, he hadn't known it was that way either. Draco kept mostly to himself until that night in the Slytherin dungeon. He had sat in the common room bantering with Crabbe and Goyle, then helping them a bit with Potions. He didn't talk to them much because they weren't in N.E.W.T. level classes this year. Draco was in his personal room, reading his muggle book. Ivan knocked softly, then opened the door. He jumped, trying to hide the book, but then he realized it was just his friend. "Draco?"

"You can come in," he said, shutting his book and laying it down. He sat up, folding his legs under him so Ivan could sit on the other end of his bed as opposed to the empty one.

"I wanted to apologize a bit for earlier, but Slytherins don't really apologize. At least, that is what someone else told me," he said. Draco smirked.

"Don't hang around third years and you won't hear things like that," Draco told him, and Ivan knew he was forgiven. "Speaking of, why are you with sixth years?" he asked. Ivan shrugged.

"Because I'm smart." It was the only explanation Draco needed, but he continued. "School is different over there, and most people are stupid. Years here and done by age, but classes still, by intelligence. So they put me in sixth year classes, and told me to room with third years."

"Makes enough sense. You can take that bed, if you'd like," Draco gestured towards it. "It's empty."

"Thanks, Draco," he said. Draco didn't like being thanked.

"Why don't you go on and let me get to bed?" he said, a little snappy. Ivan didn't care, he noticed the way Draco operated and saw no sense in being offended. He gathered his things and moved them up to his new room, as quietly as he could so he didn't disturb Draco's reading. He left him alone until he had turned off the light. He could tell Draco wasn't asleep.

"Draco?" he said into the darkness.

"What?" he asked, voice soft with tiredness.

"Why did it bother you so much about Harry today?" Ivan asked, he heard Draco's bed creak. Draco grimaced, this wasn't his idea of good bedtime conversation.

"Because POTTER," he enuncuated, "is a git. Just stay away." His voice faltered.

"Have you always been such a bad liar?" Ivan asked.

"No I'm actually very cunning when I'm not at my wit's end, you fuck." Draco's retort wasn't ideal, but he wasn't on his game. Processing all the information from Borgin today, he was stressed and didn't care about what a git Ivan was being.

"It's okay if you have something with him, I just want to know, Draco-" he was just naturally a curious person.

"Look, you listen to me, right fucking now. Potter means nothing to me!" he shouted, and then he slammed the door as he left. He sat outside the dungeon for a moment, unsure of where to go, but he took a deep breath and decided there was only one way to drown out his emotions, work to help the wizard that was killing them. He made his way to the Room of Requirement.
***

Harry had seen that Ivan was in the same room as Draco, and it made his stomach warm. He didn't like it, he wanted to be in that room, watching Draco sleep, hearing him. He was giving in to his growing infatuation with the boy, seeing it harmless as he couldn't act on it. He fell asleep looking at that little blip on the map. When he woke up in the middle of the night needing to pee, he noticed that Draco was out walking again. He smiled a bit to himself, and after he went to the bathroom, he made his way down the steps to go out the door. He ran into Hermione on the way out.

"Where were you going?" she asked. Harry stumbled to make up an excuse. "Were you going to see someone?"

"Not, er, exactly." He stammered. She gave him a knowing look.

"I've just talked to Dumbledore, and I need to tell you something," she said, and they went to sit on the couches. Harry sat on the edge of the couch, anxious, he didn't want to miss Draco.

"What is it Hermione?" he asked, his voice coming out quickly.

"Well, I overheard Snape this morning talking to Draco about something. I couldn't really make it out from the other side of the door. He told me he is well aware of what Mr. Malfoy is doing but I have a really bad feeling about this," she went on.

"So what are you trying to say?" Harry asked.

"Harry, Malfoy is up to something. Something bad." She looked seriously afraid.

"If Dumbledore knows about it, it can't be that bad," Harry reasoned. She looked away.

"I just don't feel comfortable. I know he and Snape left the castle this afternoon, and now that Snape is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Something very strange is going on," she said. "I think you should talk to Malfoy." Harry rolled his eyes.

"That's one of the last things I want to do," he said, and he wasn't sure if he meant it or not.

"Harry, I know you two dislike each other, but now is not the time to-" Harry cut her off.

"That isn't why." His voice was flat. Hermione looked at him, waiting. "I'm starting to feel like I did before," he began, but realized that wasn't sufficient. He tried again. "I've been thinking about him, and I just... get really attached and I really, er, I... I don't know. I feel like I can't stand to be around him. Looking at him hurts, but when I'm not looking at him, I want to. I can't..." Harry couldn't explain it any better. "When I first saw Cedric,"-Hermione let slip a muffled 'I knew it!- " I thought he was cute, but really quickly, I got so... addicted to him. Downright addicted, Hermione. All that time I was supposed to be preparing, I was with him. That's why everything was so last minute, I was always with him. But, with Draco, it's like it's worse." Hermione was looking at him, listening.

"You've been holding this in for a really long time, Harry. It stands to reason your feelings would be really strong." They were quiet. "Were you going out to see him?" she asked.

"Well, it wasn't planned. I saw on the map that he was out of the dungeon, so I just was..." He stopped when he realized how pathetic that sounded. "I'll look into it, okay?" he assured her. She nodded.

"Thanks, Harry." Her smile was genuine, and then she got a look of mischief on her face. "Ron told me he had a curious dream about you and Seamus." Harry blushed.

"I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about," he said. Hermione smirked at him.

"Ron said he always figured Seamus was queer, but it's good you like blokes because you'll make a better wingman," Hermione was laughing at what Ron had said.

"Like he needs it, I've seen you two." Harry winked at her.

"Go to bed, Harry," was all she had to say about it.