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Hey There Draco Chapter One
Title: Hey There Draco
Chapter Title: Hey There Draco
Author: Ruby13b
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Summary: Set in the summer after 5th year.
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Possibly Violence, and something else that I am forgetting.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am owned by no one.

This is a Harry/Draco fanfiction. Meaning boy/boy. If you don't like don't read! You have been warned!

Harry Potter stepped back from Remus Lupin’s embrace, grinning. It had been two very long, very painful weeks at the Dursleys’, and finally he was being swept away to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

The Dursleys were being as unpleasant as ever and Harry was more than eager to leave their company, though Harry wasn’t sure he was ready to return to No. 12 Grimmauld Place. The death of his godfather, Sirius, had left a hole in Harry’s heart that he couldn’t understand. There were times that Harry had convinced himself Sirius wasn’t really gone. Harry kept expecting to turn around to see Sirius standing in front of him, wearing that goofy lopsided smile that he wore when he was truly happy. A part of Harry was always disappointed when Sirius wasn’t there.

Lupin smiled at Harry sadly. The werewolf looked more bedraggled than Harry remembered him being. The circles under his eyes were darker and his clothes appeared to be more tattered and worn. Harry wondered just how much Lupin was feeling the loss of Sirius. Judging on Lupin’s appearance, Harry was willing to bet that it was a lot.

After a quick goodbye to the Dursleys, who barely acknowledged him leaving, Harry found himself being ushered into the backyard by Lupin.

“How are we getting there?” Harry asked.

“Side-along Apparation ,” Lupin answered. Harry grimaced. He hated Apparating. “Harry,” Lupin began. But Harry cut him off.

“I’m fine,” he said, faking the best smile that he could. He really was a faker. “Really, Professor, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Lupin nodded and Harry could tell that he didn’t believe him for a second. “All right, Harry,” Lupin said. “But if you need to talk to someone, you know I’m always available.”

“Thank you,” Harry told him sincerely. He knew that Professor Lupin meant well, but this wasn’t the kind of thing that talking about would make any better. Dead was still dead, no matter how many words you put in between.

Lupin nodded again and put his arm around Harry’s shoulder. Harry braced himself for the uncomfortable swoop and whoosh as they Apparated into the street in front of No. 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry let his eyes wander up the side of the house, taking in how tall it was. He had never noticed before.

Lupin was pushing him inside. Harry caught one final look at the street and felt the final tingle of the night air before the door was roughly shut.

Harry heard sounds from down the hall, which were most likely coming from the kitchen. His stomach growled and he realized that he hadn’t had anything to eat since early that morning. Harry hoped Mrs. Weasley was making something good.

Lupin led Harry down the hall in the direction of the kitchen, but he stopped before entering.

Harry gave him an inquisitive look. “Is something wrong?” he asked. Though he knew he needn’t have bothered. Something was always wrong. That was just how life was when you were Harry Potter.

Lupin shook his head before saying, “I forgot to mention something to you earlier, Harry. I don’t think you’re going to like it, but we have another guest in the house.”

Harry cocked his head. He knew that the Weasleys were there, along with Hermione and whatever Order members that happened to be around. Harry didn’t see how one more person staying there had anything to do with him. He couldn’t care less who it was. Well, maybe if it was Snape…

“All right,” Harry said.

Lupin looked very uncomfortable. “Harry, the person who is here is…” Lupin was cut off by a voice behind him on the staircase.

“Well, look who decided to show up.”

Harry spun around to see Draco Malfoy, Slytherin’s prince, standing elegantly on the staircase.

“Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed. “What in the world are you doing here?”

“Believe me, Potter, this wasn’t my first choice,” Draco sneered.

Harry glared at Draco before widening his eyes in shock when he actually looked the flaxen haired boy over. In spite of his elegant stance, Harry couldn’t help but notice that there was a rather large bruise on Draco’s left cheek. And when he looked closer, Harry could see a purple mark on Draco’s neck, as if someone had grabbed him and held on too tightly. And even though Harry couldn’t see, he would’ve bet anything that Draco’s arms and legs were bruised as well.

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry’s less than discreet way of staring at him.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” Harry said. “What happened to you? You look like shit.”

Draco stiffened before he answered. “That,” he said coolly, “is none of your concern.” And with no other words, Draco turned on his heel and marched back up the stairs. Moments later, the sound of a door being slammed shut echoed down the stairs.

“Git,” Harry muttered. He didn’t even know why he had tried. Draco Malfoy was…well…Draco Malfoy. “What happened to him?” he asked, turning to Lupin.

Lupin shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not my place to tell you that, Harry,” he said apologetically. Harry shrugged. He didn’t actually care all that much what had happened to the blond boy. Harry was just about to go into the kitchen when Lupin caught him by the shoulder. “There’s one more thing,” Lupin said quietly. Harry waited impatiently. Why did he have the feeling he wasn’t going to like what Lupin said next? “You and Draco will be sharing a room.”

Harry was stunned into stillness for a few moments before he answered. “No,” Harry said out flat. “No no, sorry, no, I refuse! I won’t!”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Lupin said. He really looked like he was sorry, too. “But we are short on space here. Everyone has to share.”

“Then why can’t I share with Ron?” Harry asked. He knew he was whining, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Ron is sharing with the twins,” Lupin told him. “And no,” Lupin said, before Harry even had a chance to open his mouth. “I won’t put Draco with Ron or the twins instead.” Harry pouted. This was truly unfair. Why was he always the one who had to suffer? “I’m sorry, Harry, but you really are the only choice. Ron is kind-hearted, but he has been known to hold a grudge. And the twins mean no harm, but I don’t trust either of them farther than I can see them. They would probably ‘on accident’ set Draco’s mattress on fire or find a way to strand him in the desert.”

Harry sighed heavily. That was true. Harry really was the best choice, the only choice, really, to room with the Slytherin. He wouldn’t do anything to Draco without being provoked.

“Fine,” Harry agreed. “I’ll do it, but I don’t have to like it.” Harry knew he was acting like a childish, spoiled brat. But he hardly ever got to act that way. It felt good once in awhile.

Lupin smiled. “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry waved him off and entered the kitchen. He was immediately caught in a motherly embrace by Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley pulled back, looking him up and down in a disapproving manner. She clicked her tongue before saying, “Don’t they ever feed you? You’re entirely too skinny! Sit down, sit down, dinner will be along in a bit. We’ll get you nice and healthy in no time.” She bustled off, leaving Harry to grin at the faces sitting around the table.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, jumping up and giving Harry a quick hug. Ron got up as well, clapping Harry on the back.

“Good to see you, mate,” Ron said.

The twins were sitting in the corner of the room. They had their heads bent over together, and were obviously finding whatever they were looking at very amusing. In unison, they looked up, saw Harry, and grinned and waved. Harry grinned and waved back, secretly hoping that whatever scheme the twins were cooking up didn’t involve him.

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down at the table. Harry looked fondly at his best friends. He had missed them, even though it had only been two weeks since they had last met. Those two weeks seemed like a lifetime to Harry.

“Can you believe the Malfoy git is here?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. “How long has he been here?”

“He arrived only a little while before you,” Hermione answered.

“Acting really strange,” Ron put in. “He hasn’t thrown any insults at us. Hardly has said two words at all. He just shut himself up in his room and hasn’t come out since.”

“I just saw him on the stairs,” Harry told them. At that, the twins looked up from their corner. Their expressions were unreadable.

“Did he say anything?” Hermione asked quietly.

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I asked about his bruises but he wouldn’t answer. And then he just left.”

“Strange,” Hermione said. “We’ve been wondering the same thing.”

“We’ve tried grilling Lupin for information,” Ron added. “He’s the one Ferret Boy arrived with, well, him and Snape, but Lupin said that it wasn’t his place to tell us.”

Harry laughed. “That’s exactly what he told me,” Harry said. He wasn’t even going to ask if they had questioned Snape about Draco.

“I do feel a little sorry for him,” Hermione admitted softly.

“I don’t,” Ron said nastily. “Whatever it was, he had it coming to him. I feel sorry for you, mate,” Ron added to Harry. “You have to share a room with Ferret Boy. That’s rough.”

“It’s only where I’m sleeping,” Harry said. “I’ll be able to avoid him the rest of the time.”

“I know if it were me, I’d be tempted to smoother him in his sleep,” Ron said.

“Which is precisely why Harry’s rooming with him and not you, Ronald,” Hermione said. “I don’t know what happened to him, but whatever it was must have been pretty bad.”

Harry privately agreed, though he didn’t know why he should care. Draco Malfoy had been nothing but trouble for Harry from the first day they had met.

Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room a moment later, setting dishes of food on the table. Harry felt his mouth begin to water as he took in the aroma. From the smell, it looked like they were having chicken pie. It had been ages since Harry had eaten Mrs. Weasley’s cooking. He wouldn’t find such good food at the Dursleys’, that was for sure.

“Ginny!” Mrs. Weasley called. “Dinner!”

“Coming!” Ginny’s voice answered from the living room.

“Fred, George,” Mrs. Weasley said, turning to the twins. “I don’t even want to know what you’re doing. Now, come and sit at the table and pretend to be normal people.”

“I thought we were already doing a good job pretending,” Fred mumbled, sitting down next to Harry.

“There’s always room for improvement, dearest,” George said, taking the seat next to Fred. “Hello, Harry,” George added to him. “Did you have a good stay in Hell, then?”

“I thought he had been in Purgatory,” Fred said, looking confused.

“You’re close,” Harry told the twins. “I was at the Durselys’.”

“I’m afraid it won’t get much better here,” Fred said. “Not while he who is the king of all that is Slytherin is here, at any rate.”

“What was that, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked somewhat sharply.

“Nothing, mum,” George answered for his brother. “We were just wondering where Malfoy was.”

“I should go get him,” Mrs. Weasley said, walking out of the room. She returned a moment later. Some of the color had left her face. “He’s sleeping,” she said quietly.

Nobody said a word. Even the twins were silent. Ginny entered the room to find everyone staring dejectedly at their empty plates.

“Did I miss something?” she asked. “Who died?”

“No one, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley answered. “Sit down and have some dinner.” She looked around the table as Ginny sat down next to Hermione. “Go on,” she urged. “Dig in. It’ll get cold.”

“This looks great, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, helping himself to the chicken pie.

“I want you especially to eat up, young man,” Mrs. Weasley said, going rather stern.

Harry grinned at her cheekily and took an enormous bite out of his pie. It was even better than he had remembered. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be satisfied and sat down at the head of the table. Harry looked around the table. It was only the four youngest Weasley children, Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and him. He knew that Draco was upstairs, but where was everyone else? Where had Professor Lupin gone? He had been there just a moment ago.

Swallowing hard, Harry asked, “Where is everyone?”

“Order business,” Mrs. Weasley said before blowing on a piece of chicken, taking a bite and chewing carefully.

Harry felt a sudden pang in his stomach. Order business? Shouldn’t that involve him, too?

As if reading Harry’s mind, Mrs. Weasley said, “You’ve just arrived, dear. You will be caught up with everything happening soon.” Mrs. Weasley looked like she didn’t approve of Harry ‘being caught up’, but she said nothing more.

Harry went back to his dinner. He suddenly wasn’t very hungry anymore. He continued eating, though. He didn’t want Mrs. Weasley to worry about him any more than she had already done. The Weasleys did so much for him and Harry always felt like such a burden. He hated feeling that way. But he couldn’t tell anyone how he really felt. It was like he was living a lie. Inside of him felt so different than what he portrayed on the outside. Even if he tried to explain it, no one would truly understand. In a way, Harry didn’t think that they would want to.

~~~

Harry made his way up the stairs. The bedroom that he would be sharing with Draco was the third door on the left. Ron and the twins were in the room directly across, and Hermione and Ginny were a little further down the hallway. The rest of the rooms were for Order members and for other things Harry didn’t care to think about.

Harry paused for a moment in front of his room. Sighing, he opened the door and quietly slipped in. The room was dark, and Harry had to squint to see what was in front of him. There were two twin beds on either side of the room and two small writing desks in the middle of the room pushed up against the window. The light from the waning moon shone into the room and Harry could see that Draco was already in the bed on the right. Draco suddenly sat up in his bed as if he had been shocked.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered, closing the door behind him. “Did I wake you?”

Draco lay back down. “No,” he answered. “You just surprised me.”

“Sorry,” Harry repeated. Harry changed quickly into his pajamas and got into bed. He looked over at Draco, who had the back of his hand across his forehead. “What were you doing?” Harry asked quietly.

“Staring at the ceiling,” Draco told him. There was no hostility in his voice. Draco sighed heavily.

Harry frowned at him. “Why didn’t you come to dinner?”

“I wasn’t hungry,” Draco muttered, unconsciously wrapping his arms across his stomach.

Harry peered at him intently through the darkness. “Are you alright?” he finally asked.

Draco looked for a moment like he might snap at Harry to mind his own business, but then he just said, “I don’t know, Potter, I really don’t.”

Harry paused for a moment, taking in Draco’s appearance in. He really looked like he had been through the wringer. Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him.

“Well, if you wanted to…” Harry started, but Draco cut him off.

“I don’t feel like talking anymore, Potter,” he snapped. “I want to sleep.”

“Fine!” Harry shouted. “See if I ever try to talk to you again! Good-night, Malfoy.” Harry turned on his side, facing away from Draco. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to push the thought of Draco out of his mind. Why did he even bother? Why was he even trying to care? Malfoy obviously wanted nothing to do with him. Harry had no problem ignoring him. Really. That’s what he tried to convince himself was true, at any rate.

From the other side of the room, Draco turned his head to look at Harry’s back, a single tear falling out of his eye and rolling slowly down his cheek.