Afraid to Find

Title: Afraid to Find

Keywords: Harry, Draco, Hermione. Harry/Hermione. Flangst.

Spoilers: 1-6

Rating: PG-13

Dedication: For Kaze. For the constant support and pretty much being my other half. And do I really need a reason to love on you?

Word Count: 1, 802

He’s surprised at how easy it is for him to fight this war. Hagrid says he’s a natural at leading people. Just like his parents. (And he always wants to say that he still doesn’t think Dumbledore’s sacrifice was worth it, he can’t ever fill those shoes, he can’t ever be that powerful).

But he’s doing it—he’s left school and tracked down Horcruxes and he’s taken the fight straight to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. If Dumbledore taught him anything, it’s that it’s his choice. The prophecy will only have meaning if he gives it meaning.

“Move out of the way, Draco.”

Draco Malfoy folds his arms over his chest, his chin raised and his eyes defiant. Behind him stands his old gang from school. There’s Crabbe and Goyle and others Harry doesn’t recognize.

“No.”

Harry sets his jaw. “Malfoy, I’m warning you—”

“What?” Malfoy says, spittle flying out of his mouth and spraying at Harry’s feet. “You’re outnumbered, Potter. You don’t have the stones.”

Harry draws himself up to his full-height and takes two steps forward. He takes no notice of the goons standing behind Draco.

“Do you know what I did to get here, Malfoy?”

Harry watches as Draco bites down on his bottom lip. His posture is tense.

“I tortured your father.” Harry lets that sink in. “Lucius Malfoy sold you all out, including your Lord. Trust me, Draco. I have the stones.”

Draco swallows. “You’re stupid, Potter. That’s what you are. This is suicide. You can’t walk in here and fry us all with your eyeballs. It doesn’t work like that.”

Harry takes another step closer. His voice is quiet. “Let me past, Malfoy.”

Draco moves forward until he’s breathing into Harry’s face. They stare at each other in silence. Draco is taller by several inches.

“Hand it over,” Draco says.

“Malfoy, don’t do this—”

“Potter, shut your trap and give me your fucking wand! You’re not leaving this place alive. You might as well make it as painless as possible on yourself.”

Harry glances over Draco’s shoulder where his followers are clustered. “We both know this isn’t the life you want. Let me go, Malfoy. The Order can hide you.”

Malfoy laughs. “This—from the boy who tortured my father. Keep your wet dreams to yourself, Potter.” Malfoy’s lips twist into a sneer. “You have five seconds to disarm yourself.”

When Harry hands over his wand, he’s calm. Draco’s face is pale and sweat is glistening along his brow.

Harry waits.

“You’ve changed, Potter.”

“Yeah, I reckon I have.”

Draco twirls Harry’s wand around in his hand, his forehead creasing as he thinks. “Do you know how to make the Cruciatus curse as painful as possible? Do you know how to keep your victim hopeful, just hopeful enough so they keep screaming? Have you mastered that?”

“Dunno, Malfoy. Have you?”

“Yeah, Potter. I have.”

“That’s bloody fantastic for you, then.” Harry shrugs. “So are you gonna torture me or not, Malfoy? Bit boring to sit around here and gab at you all day, to be honest.”

“You know what the trouble is with you, Potter?”

“What’s that, Malfoy?”

“No one knows how to break you.” Draco begins to pace, Harry’s wand still clenched in his fist. “Embarrassing, isn’t it? The Dark Lord can’t seem to bloody well go and off you. That, or you’re just the luckiest prat the world’s ever seen.”

Harry isn’t impressed. “Do you have a point?”

“Yeah, Potter, I do.” Draco stops his pacing and turns to face him. “The point is, no one’s figured it out yet. What they’ve got to do to take the fight out of you. Because that’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’re still here. Torturing you won’t do it, it has to be more than that—deeper than that.”

Harry shifts. “I’m honored you think so highly of me.”

Draco scoffs. “It’s not about that. You don’t look out for yourself, Potter. That’s always been your biggest weakness. You care. How many people have to die before you give up?”

Harry drops his voice. “Careful, Malfoy.”

There’s a gleam of triumph in Draco’s eyes. “Yes, that’s it, Potter. Your Achilles heel. You care too much.”

“Fantastic deduction, Malfoy. Gold stars all around. Will you please give me my fucking wand back now?”

“How about the youngest Weaselbit, eh?” Draco smiles. “Could you stand to watch her tortured until her bones broke? Bet she wouldn’t make such an agile little Quidditch player then.”

Harry grinds his teeth together and doesn’t say anything.

Draco raises his eyebrows and leans back, thinking. “And Ronald Weasley—bet he’d put up a fight. Always was willing to follow you stupidly into battle, wasn’t he? He’ll be the first to go, the stupid oaf. At least Gin-Gin has some fire in her.”

“Great, Malfoy, I get it—my friends are in danger. I’ve thought about it, okay? Now, will you­—”

“Or Granger,” Malfoy says loudly. Harry flinches. “She’ll get it worst, Potter. Bitch is also a Mudblood. Ever thought about what that’ll mean when they get their hands on her?”

They hear the first bang from above.

Harry spins around and grabs Malfoy by the shoulders, digging his fingers into the other boy’s skin.

“Listen to very carefully, Draco,” Harry says. “Going after them—going after her, that’s the worst mistake you can make, do you hear me? It only makes me more determined, more sure of what I have to do.”

The ceiling above them shakes and dry paint cascades down around them.

Harry’s breathing is painful. “Do you understand me?”

“It’ll break you, Potter.”

“You won’t have them.”

“Them or Granger?”

Harry’s eyes widen and he shoves Malfoy away.

“You don’t know anything,” Harry says.

The roar of a distant fight grows nearer. Malfoy drops Harry’s wand on the floor and kicks it towards him.

“Pleasure speaking with you.”

Harry bends to pick up his wand. When he straightens, Malfoy and his goons are gone. For a long time, he stares at the spot where they’d been, jumbled thoughts piling around in his mind.

That’s how the Order finds him.

He’s immediately aware of Hermione and her soft “Oh, Harry” as she throws her arms around him, her body trembling with relief.

“I was so worried,” she whispers. “It was so awful—you going down here alone. You mustn’t take these sorts of chances with yourself, you know.”

“Yeah, Hermione, I know,” he says. He avoids Ron’s eye as he hugs Hermione back.

***

The mission is a success. The Death Eaters are scattered, confused. They know the Order is beginning to outnumber them. Voldemort’s control is weakening.

Harry takes it all in, his thoughts far away.

Hermione’s been his best friend for eight years. It doesn’t make sense that it can happen like this, so quickly, so at once.

Lupin claps him on the shoulder, his lined face crinkling as he smiles.

“You parents would be so proud of you, Harry.”

“Thanks,” Harry says.

He wonders how Malfoy knew.

***

Hermione’s cut in several places and hisses at him when he offers help.

“Quit being such a baby,” he mutters.

He presses a white towel to her neck where she’s bleeding, his eyes studying her face. She frowns under his attention and shifts. She curves her arm around his backside, the palm of her hand resting flat against his spine.

She winces when he moves the towel to her cheek. “That hurts.”

“I’m being gentle.”

“Honestly, Harry. I’m not exactly injured.”

“Yes, you are.”

She rolls her eyes. “There are far more people who sustained heavier damage.”

“Damage? That’s certainly a clinically detached way to look at it.”

She huffs. “Well, why aren’t you with them?”

“I don’t care about them.”

The hand on his backside begins to move. Her thumb rubs in small circles and he’s finding it harder to concentrate.

“Ginny was with them.”

“Ginny’s not hurt, is she?”

“She might be,” Hermione says. “You haven’t checked up on her, have you?”

He doesn’t answer. He pulls the damp towel away from her cheek, pleased to see that her bleeding’s subsided. She’s right, her injuries are no more than scratches. She’s already beginning to heal.

Only one day it might be worse.

He sucks in a breath and cups her chin. The towel falls from his hand. Her eyes meet his and he knows she’s reading the emotions on his face in the same way she reads her books.

“Harry…?”

He kisses her.

***

Her hand moves over his chest in lazy patterns and her legs entwine with his. His fingers comb restlessly through her hair, splayed out on the pillow around her.

They try and talk about what’s happened between them, but get too caught up in the moment. It’s a kiss on the lips, then a kiss on the forehead, and hands moving over thighs, stomachs, buttocks.

So much of it goes unspoken. They’ve been friends for so long, they don’t need to talk about it.

He doesn’t think about the danger this puts her in. It was already there. Malfoy knew so and Harry fell upon the truth. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.

He tries to promise to keep her safe, but her lips cover his and his words are no more than a muffled breath.

***

“I need you so much.”

“Oh, Harry, don’t—”

“I do.”

“Harry—”

“I love you.”

“Harry….”

“I love you. I… I love you.”

“Oh, but… this is all so—don’t look at me like that. Well, yes, I suppose, I do… I mean, I love you, of course I do—honestly, as if there was ever any doubt.”

***

When he wakes in the morning and finds Hermione’s body pressed against his, he lies completely still. He doesn’t want to wake her.

Unwillingly, his mind drifts to Malfoy. Draco could have killed him and he didn’t. Were his words a warning?

A threat?

Harry traces his knuckles down Hermione’s bare back, his forehead creasing in thought. Draco wasn’t a killer. Harry learned that on the night Snape killed Dumbledore. Draco was not capable of murder.

A grim smile touches Harry’s lips. I have to help him, he thinks. I can’t very well do anything else. The git will never redeem himself, but he’s not evil. And so long as he’s not evil, he deserves a chance.

Harry glances down at the sleeping girl in his arms and kisses her forehead. He hopes the risk is worth it.

Malfoy’s right. He has too much to lose.

End