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Title: Hey There Draco Chapter 9
Chapter Title: TBD
Author: Ruby13b
Summary: Set in the summer after 5th year. Harry and Draco are thrown together by chance and what starts as morbid curiosity turns into an adventure that neither of them will ever forget.
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Possible Violence
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am owned by no one.
Author's Note: I know I'm a loser for not updating for so long, I do have every intention of finishing the story. Thanks to all of the people reading this story. Thanks to M.

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

It was four o’clock in the morning.  Harry was spending yet another morning pouring over books with Draco, in the library hidden in the drawing room. The rustle of paper, the opening and closing of books and an occasional cough from Draco were the only sounds that cut through the silence of the secluded room. Harry’s heart leaped with every turn of the page. It was possible that he could find something on the next page, or on the next page, or on the next page. But with every page turned, and every book set aside, Harry’s spirits began to fall. There was a part of him which started to wonder if he ought to give up. What if it really was hopeless? Would he ever be able to find enough information to be satisfied?

Draco coughed again. Harry looked over at him, a pang of guilt jabbing at his insides. Was he really even being fair to Draco? Was Draco just being dragged along in this crusade of his? Why did he stay?

Draco looked up at him, giving him a questioning look. “Is there something I can do for you?” Draco asked.

Harry opened his mouth, but no words came out. Draco seemed to understand, though. He closed his book with a sigh and motioned Harry to come sit next to him on the floor. Harry did, hesitating for a moment before laying his head in Draco’s lap. Draco tentatively stroked Harry’s head.  Even now, even though he felt so lost, confused and empty, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to cry. This plan of his wasn’t going accordingly. Why had he been so certain it was going to be easy? Why did nothing ever turn out like it should?

“It’s so hard,” Harry mumbled into Draco’s knees. “Who could have imagined it would be so hard?” Harry’s head was pounding, and he was having a hard time hearing himself think. Draco’s lips were moving but Harry couldn’t hear what he had said. “What?”

“I said, should we call it quits for now?” Draco asked patiently. “Go back to bed?”

Harry didn’t want to sleep. There was too much he had to do. Sleeping was a waste of his time. There would be plenty of time to sleep when he was dead. Then again, what they were doing now was a waste of time. This whole thing was a waste of time! Harry could feel the agitation growing within him. Harry’s hand clutched at the loose material of Draco’s pajama bottoms. He was so angry, angrier than ever, and he didn’t know why! This place, this house, everyone around him, irritated him. He needed out! He wanted to get away from everything. Draco coughed again, and Harry immediately softened, releasing his clutch on Draco’s pajamas. Harry flipped over so that he was on his back, face to face with Draco. He reached his hand up and lightly touched the bruise on Draco’s cheek. Draco’s eyes fluttered shut and he bit his bottom lip. Harry let his hand fall away from Draco’s face.

“I am very tired,” Harry admitted. Even saying that, Harry didn’t want to move. It would take too much effort to go all the way back upstairs. Somehow Draco knew that Harry wasn’t going to leave for he shifted Harry over onto the ground and laid down next to him, his head on Harry’s chest. Harry encircled Draco in his arms, reveling in how good it felt just to have someone to hold onto. Draco laced their fingers together, holding on tightly. He didn’t let go.

“We’ll make it through this,” Draco murmured, saying words he didn’t believe himself in hopes it would help.

Harry actually chuckled a little at this. It was so obvious that Draco was trying to make him feel better. “I appreciate your effort,” Harry told him honestly, “but we both know I was a prat to even think I could bring Sirius back.”

Draco nodded. “I know, but it’s nice to dream.”

Harry closed his eyes, nuzzling his face into Draco’s silky blond hair. Harry couldn’t believe what a comfort Draco was to him. He always seemed to have an answer to everything. How did he always know everything? Then… “Hang on,” Harry said, his eyes flashing open. “How did you know I wanted to resurrect Sirius?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Back when we were first talking about Necromancy, you asked me why I was going so far for Sirius. I hadn’t said anything about Sirius. How did you know?”

Draco shrugged. “He just seemed like the most obvious person. Who else do you know who has died?”

Harry thought about it for a moment. Of course, there had been his parents. But he didn’t even remember them, and it had been so long ago. Then there was Cedric. Harry felt extremely guilty that he hadn’t thought of him before that moment. Cedric hadn’t exactly been his friend, but shouldn’t Harry try to bring him back as well? No, if he was going to revive anyone it was going to be Sirius. Harry couldn’t believe how selfish he was being, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“You’re very perceptive,” Harry murmured.

“I am Slytherin,” Draco said, as if that explained everything.

A few moments passed where neither of them said anything. Then Harry finally said, “Let’s go back upstairs. We’re not going to find anything.”

“Right,” Draco said, sitting up and rubbing his head. “But before we do, there’s something I want to show you.”

Harry’s heart did a flip in his chest. “What is it?” he asked quickly. “Did you find something? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” The irritation that Harry had been able to stamp out before rose to the surface. Really, why the hell hadn’t Draco said something?

“Don’t get excited,” Draco said crossly. He apparently didn’t like Harry’s tone. “It’s nothing too credible. It’s just, well, here, look.” Draco picked up the book that he had been looking through earlier and opened it to a page he had marked. Harry looked over his shoulder, frowning a little. “There,” Draco said, pointing to a spot on the page.

Harry peered closer, squinting his sleep-deprived eyes to read:

The Book of Secrets

“The Book of Secrets?” he questioned. “What is The Book of Secrets?”

“I’m not sure,” Draco said, sighing and setting the book aside. “But I keep seeing it over and over again.”

“So you think there might be a connection between this Book of Secrets and Necromancy?”

“I’m not sure,” Draco repeated. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s definitely something we’ll want to look into, though.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel a little let down. It was something, but it wasn’t enough. That was always the problem. So close, yet not close enough. Seeing the answers but being not able to understand. He wanted to understand. No, not wanted, needed to understand. Why was it that he could never find what he needed to know?!

Harry sighed and raised his head. He started when he realized that Draco was looking directly at him, his eyes narrowed.

“What?” Harry asked self-consciously.

“Just now you were wearing a dangerous look on your face,” Draco said. “I didn’t like it.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized. What else could he say?

“Never mind,” Draco said, turning away. “Let’s just go.”

Harry nodded and pulled himself up to his feet, swaying a little at the unexpected vertigo. Shaking his head to clear it and checking to make sure Draco was ready, Harry left the library. He closed the library door firmly behind them. It would very inconvenient if anyone else discovered its existence. That would only make everything more complicated, and Harry certainly knew that things were about as complicated as he could handle at the moment. Then again, when had Harry Potter’s life not been complicated?

As quietly as possible, Harry and Draco crept back up the stairs and into the hallway. However, instead of going back into their bedroom, Draco paused at the door, looking down the opposite end.

“What are you waiting for?” Harry hissed at him from the doorway. “Get in here!”

Draco made no sign that he had even heard Harry and continued to stare. He put his hand over his mouth, his brow furrowed. He appeared to be deep in thought and Harry could feel himself becoming nervous.  Draco then removed his hand from his mouth and, with nothing else, began walking down the hallway. Harry only watched, bewildered, for a moment before following after him. Draco stopped at the opposite end, which just so happened to be directly in front of the staircase to the top floor. He once again raised his hand to his mouth and stared up the staircase into the darkness.

“What is actually up there?” Draco asked in a hushed voice.

“I have no idea,” Harry answered. And frankly, he didn’t want to know. “Can we go now?”

But Draco didn’t move and Harry didn’t like the direction this was headed. “Right,” Draco said. “I’m going up.” He put his hand on the railing and was about to ascend when Harry caught him by his other hand.

“Have you gone mental?” Harry hissed. “We’re not allowed.”

“Do you always do what you’re told?” Draco said challengingly.

“No, I don’t. And it almost always gets me into trouble,” Harry retorted.

“Then you’ll be no worse off then when you started,” Draco said simply. “Now, come on.”

Draco yanked at Harry’s hand, urging him up the stairs. Harry begrudgingly allowed Draco to lead him along, wincing with every step. He had the most horrible feeling that something dreadful was about to happen to them. These feelings never meant anything good. Even so, Harry and Draco proceeded up the stairs.

At the top of the stairway, there was only a single door. It appeared to be ordinary enough, but Harry of all people knew nothing was ever as it seemed. Draco looked at Harry and Harry looked back at Draco. Well, they had come this far, Harry reasoned to himself, they might as well go the rest of the way.

Hand shaking, Harry reached for the doorknob. Draco gulped as Harry turned the knob slowly and eased the door open. Nothing happened, and Draco let out a sigh of relief. Harry did as well. He had been so afraid something would pop out at them from behind the door. With Harry leading the way, they entered the room. Nothing in the room in general struck Harry as being odd. For all intents and purposes it was nothing more than an ordinary attic. Why was this room off limits?

Draco closed the door behind them and turned around, surveying the room.

“Well,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his head with the tips of his fingers, “there’s nothing up here. Can we go now?”

Draco ignored him, however, and stepped further into the room. It was dark, as it was still early in the morning, and the only light in the room was streaming faintly through a single small window above them. Boxes upon boxes were heaped haphazardly all around, casting ominous shadows in every direction. Harry shivered and moved closer to Draco. He had never been one for skulking about in sketchy places. Hell, he even hated going down to the dungeons for Potions class. Then again, that could just be because he disliked Snape so much. Harry shook his head wildly in a desperate attempt to clear the unwanted image of the Potions Master from his mind. Snape was about the last person Harry wanted to think about at that moment.

“There must be something up here,” Draco muttered, more to himself than to Harry, but Harry heard him anyway.

“Maybe they just don’t want anyone causing trouble up here,” Harry offered weakly. Again, Draco ignored him. Harry sighed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to leave this place until Draco was satisfied, so he might as well get comfortable.

Suddenly, from the depths of the shadows there was movement. Draco was startled, bumped into Harry and together they toppled over onto the floor. With a jolt, Harry realized that he didn’t have his wand, didn’t have a weapon of any kind. That was a problem. This situation was a problem. He knew there was a reason they weren’t allowed up here, and now they were going to die.

Draco, on the other hand, wasn’t thinking such morbid thoughts. After regaining his composure from the initial shock, he had grabbed the closest object to him that could be used as a weapon. The object just so happened to be a long, silver candlestick holder, and he was now readying it as if holding a club. He looked at Harry, who was still on the ground, and shook his head. Harry caught Draco’s eye, blushed, and pulled himself up off of the floor, snatching a dusty bottle on his way. He mirrored Draco and gave him a curt nod. In one quick motion, Harry and Draco sprang into the darkness, surrounding the creature lurking there.

Kreacher is exactly what it happened to be. Or who, really. The ancient house-elf looked even more bedraggled than the last time Harry had seen him. The filthy cloth covering his lower regions was, if possible, even filthier than before. His eyes were wild and bloodshot and he was thin. Very, very thin.

“Harry,” Draco said in a panicked whisper, “what is this thing?”

“Kreacher,” Harry growled. He had forgotten about the house-elf entirely. In an instant everything began flooding back. What the house-elf had done and who in turn had suffered because of that. Before Harry realized what he was doing, he had dropped the dusty bottle and seized Kreacher by the throat, began squeezing tightly. He could hear Draco shout something, but his voice sounded faint and distant. Kreacher’s eyes were bulging out of his head.

Harry felt Draco’s arm surrounding him, pulling him off of the house-elf. Harry held on as tightly as he could, but Draco appeared to have tapped into some unknown strength and he managed to drag Harry off. Harry stumbled backwards, lost his balance entirely, and fell onto the ground, taking Draco down with him and landing on top of him. Breathing heavily, Harry attempted to get up, but he was stopped by Draco tugging at his sleeve. Draco had unshed tears in his widened eyes, and the hand he had on Harry was shaking. Harry looked back over at Kreacher. The house-elf had curled himself into a ball on the floor and was rocking back and forth.

“Draco,” Harry said quickly. He had to explain this. “This house-elf helped murder Sirius.”

Draco’s eyes widened even more. “What are you talking about? It’s just a house-elf.”

“He was passing information to Voldemort.” Harry suddenly stopped. He looked at Draco and his eyes darkened. “But you already know that, don’t you Draco?”

Draco seemed confused. “How could I? I’ve never seen this house-elf before in my life.”

“Kreacher went to your mother,” Harry said. He could feel himself growing angrier by the minute. “It was after Christmas. I know you’ve seen him. You were probably giving him orders to spy on us, weren’t you?”

“Harry, no!” Draco exclaimed. “I wasn’t involved in any of that. I was at Hogwarts. I was with you.”

“You weren’t with me,” Harry said somewhat nastily.

Draco winced. “You know what I mean.”

“You can’t deny that it was your family, though,” Harry said darkly. “Your mother and father. You had to have known what they were doing.”

Draco winced again. “Yes,” Draco admitted quietly. “But…”

“But what, Draco?” Harry cut in. “What?”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Draco muttered, looking away.

Harry snorted. “Oh, no,” he said sarcastically. “What would I know about Voldemort?”

“You don’t know what it’s like on the inside!” Draco snapped. “The things they do. What they would have done to my mother if she hadn’t done what she’d done! You have no idea what they’re capable of. What they do to people who disobey them. What they would do to me if they found me.” Draco’s eyes wandered and he raised his hand to the bruise on his cheek, his fingers ghosting over the mark. He dropped his hand from his face and his eyes snapped back to Harry. “Don’t presume that you know so much.”

Harry didn’t entirely understand and he was still angry, but he didn’t who he was angry at. He couldn’t be angry at Draco. Draco was as much a victim in all of this as he was. He was still angry at Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, but perhaps they truly had no other options. Harry was, of course, angry at the Death Eaters and Voldemort, but that was a given. Then there was Kreacher, but the house-elf might not have been so bad if Sirius had been nicer to him. Sirius. Harry was having a hard time admitting to himself just how angry he was at Sirius for being so stupid. Sirius should have been wiser, he shouldn’t have acted so rashly, but that could be said for Harry as well. The person Harry was truly the angriest with was himself.

“Draco,” Harry said slowly. “Answer one question for me.” Draco nodded. “How can I trust you? How do I know this just isn’t one big scheme?”

Draco shook his head. “There’s nothing in the world that I can say or do to make you trust me,” he said.

Harry nodded. Draco was right. There really was nothing Draco could do. There was nothing Harry could do either, for that matter, to make Draco trust him.

“This is just brilliant, isn’t it?” Harry said, trying to smile. “There’s nothing that either of us can do to make us trust the other person.”

Draco sighed and scooted closer to Harry. He gingerly laid his hand on Harry’s knee. “There are still things we can do, though,” Draco said shyly. He leaned in and kissed Harry on the side of the mouth. Harry pulled Draco closer, kissing him again. How could one person make him this crazy? Make him feel so much? Draco had always been able to make him feel, and Harry supposed that was all right.

“Draco, I…” Harry started. But Draco cut him off.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Draco said. “I’m sorry we came up here.”

Harry was rather sorry they had come to the attic, too. Though somehow, he strangely felt closer to Draco now. There was still so much about him that Harry didn’t know. And Harry knew there was still a lot that Draco wasn’t telling him, but he didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Taking Draco’s hand, Harry left the room, glancing one last time at the quivering Kreacher on the floor and closing the door behind them. Harry resolved to never set foot in that room again, more so for his own sanity than anything else.