A late birthday present....
Saturday, June 23rd, 2007 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Rescue
Author:auntbijou
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Sometimes, even the most unlikely people can do the right thing.
Warning: Imprisonment
Words: 3,108
Disclaimer: Nope, still all belongs to JK Rowling. I just like to play with it and treat it like a writing exercise, WOOT!
A/N: A late birthday prezzie forlusiology. Sorry it took me so long!
“I don’t know how to trust you,” Harry said softly, staring up with exhausted eyes at the man leaning over him.
“I know,” he answered, his grey eyes calm and direct.
Harry blinked, then nodded. “I have no choice, really, do I?”
“Yes,” Draco Malfoy said as he slipped his hands under Harry’s thin shoulders and lifted. “There are always choices, Potter. You taught me that. If you taught me nothing else, you taught me that.” He supported the far too slight weight of his former nemesis, waiting until the other had his feet solidly under him, then with one hand still supporting him, nodded. “Do you think you can walk?”
“Not really. I haven’t eaten in… well… a long time.” He swayed uncertainly as he stood, and Malfoy caught him, holding him steady until finally, he just grabbed an arm, hauled it over his shoulder, and slipped his other arm around Harry’s waist. “Malfoy?”
“Don’t worry about it, Potter. I’ll cast a Feather-Light charm on you as soon as we’re past the magic detecting wards, though it’s not like you’re heavy,” Malfoy muttered as he began hauling Harry toward the door of the cell. A hand on his chest stopped him, and he looked down into inquisitive eyes. “Potter?”
“Why are you doing this?”
Malfoy snorted and eased through the door, not quite letting Harry’s feet touch the floor. “Wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said finally as they neared a corner, his voice so soft it was scarcely a breath stirring the hair by Harry’s ear.
Harry closed his eyes a moment, then opened them, fastening them on Malfoy’s profile as he peered around the corner, checking for guards, then turned to find his passenger staring at him. “Try me,” Harry whispered.
Malfoy smirked, then said, “Because it’s the right thing to do.” And he moved quickly and quietly around the corner, half dragging, half carrying Harry down the stone corridor, past dying torches, and dark, empty doorways. And all the while, Harry was quiet, staring at this new, and different Malfoy. Because there was something new about him. A new… resolve, it seemed. A steadiness that he’d lacked before. A focus. And he seemed more at peace with himself than Harry had ever seen him before.
The only warning Harry got was Malfoy’s slight intake of breath, and then he was pushed into the wall with Malfoy’s body in front of his, bracing him back against the stones as Malfoy stretched out his arms on either side of Harry’s body, holding him in place, and he heard Malfoy quietly murmur a Disillusionment charm. They must be past the magic detecting wards, thought Harry. He held absolutely still as a guard went silently past, having no wish to attract the creature’s attention. He was never quite certain what those guards were, having never seen past their hoods, and he didn’t really want to know, but he did know they weren’t …well… human, exactly. They weren’t Dementors… but they weren’t people as he knew it, either.
It passed, but Malfoy didn’t move, and neither did Harry. Soon, it came back, paused, head tilted as if listening intently, and then it returned to its path, moving slowly back down the corridor. When it turned the corner, Malfoy waited a few minutes longer, then turned his head slightly so that his mouth was near Harry’s ear. “We don’t have long. It was headed toward your cell.”
Harry squeezed the blond’s shoulder to let him know he’d understood, and Malfoy nodded, then slowly peeled himself away from Harry, holding him upright, and then clamped him back against his side. They moved faster now, hidden under Malfoy’s Disillusionment. Harry puzzled over that, then realized it made sense. The wards set up to detect magic were really there only to detect his magical signature, not Malfoy’s or anyone else’s. Therefore, they were keyed to detect any wandless magic Harry might use. Because it was certain that magic was used around Harry, even on Harry, and no alarms had gone off at those times. Odd he’d never thought of it before. But then, he was always… occupied at those times. He hadn’t had room to think of it, really.
Malfoy was slowing, and Harry tried to wonder what was going to happen now, but what little energy he’d had left had been used up in just the act of trying to remain upright, and to shuffle his feet with the idea of reducing Malfoy’s burden. He knew he should care, should even be worried, but… it was nearly impossible. The arm around his waist tightened, and then he felt Malfoy’s other hand on his chest, steadying him as Malfoy leaned forward again, taking a careful look and listen before venturing out. “Okay, Potter,” he said softly, the hand on his chest pressing a little harder, “Now comes the hard part.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He turned so he was facing Harry, still holding him up, and those eyes on his were fierce, fiercer than they’d ever been before, but where once they had burned with anger, jealousy, and hate, now, he saw determination, and purpose. “We’re standing at the side door used for Very Important Visitors,” and Harry could hear the capital letters along with the sneer in Malfoy’s voice. “It leads directly outside. However, all the entrances and exits to this place are keyed to detect you should you try to escape. We suspect this one will be, too. If it is, an alarm will go off, and every guard in this place will converge on this spot. We suspect that they have two Dementors in reserve, just for you, and they’ll automatically give you the Kiss, should they catch us. And me, too, most likely.”
Harry couldn’t suppress his shudder. He hadn’t seen a Dementor since he’d been imprisoned here, when he was threatened and told that should he try to escape, or leave, he’d get the Kiss, no questions asked. Not that he’d had the energy to even try. Not after what had been done to him. He hadn’t thought anyone had cared, at that point. “Malfoy… I’m glad you tried, but… just leave me here. Don’t risk yourself…”
“Shut up, you prat,” hissed Malfoy angrily. “Stop being so god-damned noble! This is wrong, and we haven’t gone through all of this just to let you give up, so shut the fuck up and listen for once, you stupid Gryffindork!”
“No, go ahead and tell me how you really feel, Malfoy,” said Harry, trying not to grin, though he had no idea why. “Don’t hold back.”
He could feel the patented Malfoy glare even in the dark. “Listen to me,” he heard Malfoy say with enforced patience in his voice. “We are going to go through that fucking door. An alarm will most likely go off. We will not stop. I will drag your bloody bones away from this door and I will sprint with your idiotic carcass across my shoulders to a blasted tree stump that is in the opposite direction from the dock, which is where all the other blithering idiots in this place will expect us to go. Once we are there, we will be outside the anti-apparition wards around this prison, and I will pull out the god-damned portkey Granger made for us, and get us the hell out of here!! Can you wrap your feeble, wasted mind around that, Potter, or do I have to repeat myself??”
Harry stared at him. “You’re going to run?? While carrying me?”
“Yes, Potter,” said Malfoy with some exasperation as he pulled off his cloak and began folding it.
“But, Malfoy…”
“Look,” the Slytherin said, turning to look at Potter as he twisted the ends of the cloak, “for one thing, you’ve lost a lot of weight. You have no idea how light you are. Probably blow away if I breathe too hard around you. For another, if I can run fifty meters with Weasley’s long bones over my shoulders without collapsing, I can surely run from here to that bloody stump with your scrawny arse in the same place! But if it worries you that much, I can still cast that feather-light charm on you. Would that make you happy?”
Harry blinked in the face of Malfoy’s obvious exasperation, but he could sense the worry that fueled it. “Malfoy…”
Malfoy put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, staring into his eyes. “I know… I know you don’t… trust me,” he said slowly. “I’ve never really done anything to earn that sort of trust from you, have I? All that’s ever been between us has been anger. Anger and my jealousy. I regret that now, you have no idea how much. And one of these days, we will have to sit down and talk about that, but now is not that time, Potter. Now is the time to make sure that we will have that chance to sit down and talk about it. Do you understand?”
Harry, staring into Malfoy’s face, swallowed hard. He really had no choice. It was either go to this uncertain future with Malfoy, or return to continue rotting in his cell. He closed his eyes, knowing that once again, he was going to have to trust his luck. It had let him down lately, but maybe… just maybe, the tide was slowly turning. He opened his eyes. “Yes. Let’s do it. Full steam ahead…”
“And damn the torpedoes,” finished Malfoy.
Harry blinked. “You… you’ve heard that?”
If Harry wasn’t sure it had been a trick of the light, he could have sworn Malfoy was blushing. He mumbled something about, “Granger made me read the damn book,” and then was wrapping his oddly folded cloak around Harry’s too thin frame. He understood it a moment later when Malfoy bent and lifted Harry across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He used the cloak, which seemed to have been specially made for the purpose, to tie Harry into place. “Don’t worry,” he heard Malfoy say when he thought to himself that this could end badly if Malfoy needed to drop him suddenly, and had to fumble with the ties. “It’s made to undo quickly at a word.” Malfoy shifted him, and he heard him say, “Minime gravis.”
He felt his body grow lighter, and found himself clutching at Draco’s shoulder to keep himself from floating away. The cloak tightened around him, and suddenly, he felt oddly comforted. “Ready, Potter?”
“Yeah,” he said uncertainly.
Malfoy’s hand tightened on his thigh, and he felt the shoulders under him tense. “Scared, Potter?”
The memory that stirred made his lips curve in a small smile. “You wish,” he whispered, and felt Malfoy’s hand pat his thigh.
“Then let’s go.”
It was a mad dash to freedom. Malfoy literally launched himself out of the cave-like hollow that had been carved around the door they’d been huddled in, and had actually made five long strides before the high-pitched wailing of an alarm sounded. Malfoy didn’t hesitate, he kept sprinting toward his goal, hands tight on Harry’s legs and arms, holding Harry securely against his body. If not for the feather-light charm, Harry would have been horribly jarred by the run, but he hardly felt it, though when he looked back, he could see shapes bleeding from the fortress like ants bursting from a disturbed mound. The stump was drawing closer, Malfoy’s long legs eating ground with surprising speed, and Harry found himself praying to whatever deity would listen, let him make it, please, just let him make it, let him get there, please, please…
Coldness seeping into his bones, making him shudder, and he didn’t have to look up to know the Dementors were speeding toward them.
“Don’t do it, Potter,” he heard Malfoy hiss.
“What?”
“Shut it, shut it, shut it!” Malfoy chanted, and then he was stopping. They were at the stump, and Harry wriggled, thinking to get down, but a quick, “Stay still,” made him freeze. He saw a Dementor swoop to the ground and then began moving slowly toward them. It was in no hurry, thinking there would be plenty of time, evidently. He could already hear his mother screaming faintly…
“Ah, got it,” he heard Draco say, and then he was grasping Harry’s hand, opening it before slapping his hand against Harry’s palm, something between their palms, something smooth, flat, and round, and Harry just had time to turn his head to look at Malfoy before he felt that jerk behind his navel that meant freedom, and hope, and everything else Harry had forgot to feel in far too long. It was all too much, and the last thing he saw was the surprised look in Malfoy’s eyes before everything spun into darkness.
There was wetness on his fingers. And on his palm. He twitched with annoyance. Up until now, his cell had always been dry. Cold, true, but still, it had been dry, and he’d taken comfort from that. Then he thought perhaps they’d upgraded him a bit, because he no longer felt his hard, thin pallet underneath him, but something infinitely softer. With much warmer blankets… blankets plural, rather than the single thin one he’d been using for what seemed forever. All in all, though, he thought he’d prefer his thin pallet with the single blanket in his formerly dry cell to this more luxurious one if it was going to be wet.
Then the dampness moved, and he realized it was a face he was feeling. Someone had pressed a wet face into his hand, and he could feel hands gripping that hand, he felt hair moving across his fingers, and then he heard someone say, “Thank Merlin! I thought I’d killed you!”
He opened his eyes in surprise. Malfoy? Crying over him? “Tougher than I look,” he muttered. Gods, he was tired. Malfoy sat up, seemingly unashamed of the tears running down his cheeks, or of his mussed hair, and now that Harry could see him better, he could see what he’d missed before. A scar across one cheek. Lines around his eyes and mouth. Threads of silver among the gold in his hair. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere safe.” Malfoy scrubbed at his face with one hand, and coughed before reaching for a pitcher and pouring a glass of water to hand to Harry. “You’re in a somewhat fragile state, Potter. You need to be built up a bit before you’re ready to go anywhere else.”
Harry took the glass and sipped, watching Malfoy as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “What happened?”
“We made it, obviously,” Malfoy said with a small smile. “However, you collapsed, and were unconscious by the time we got here. I thought Granger was going to lose it completely, she was so upset.”
“Hermione’s here??” Harry sat up. “What about Ron? Remus? Where is everyone?”
Malfoy pressed a long hand into Harry’s chest and pushed him back down. “Calm down. Everyone’s asleep and exhausted. You’ve been out for three days, and we’ve been running ourselves ragged. The Ministry has been trying to track us down, and it wasn’t easy getting you here. Between worrying about you, and trying to keep ahead of the Aurors…” Malfoy shook his head. “Anyhow, that’s all over for now. You’re safe. We’re all safe. They won’t find us here.”
“If you’re trusting Fidelius, Malfoy…”
“We’re not.” Malfoy smirked. “We’re not even in
“But, they set wards…”
“Yes, and Granger undid them.” He tilted his head. “She’s rather brilliant, you know.”
Harry’s mouth fell open, and then the second shocking thing, more shocking than Malfoy complimenting Hermione Granger on being brilliant, happened. Draco Malfoy threw his head back and laughed. Not the malicious, derisive laughter Harry was so used to hearing from him, no, this was a full out merry peal that came from deep in his belly. There were tears running from his eyes again… laugh tears, and Harry was deeply stunned. Perhaps he wasn’t awake after all. Perhaps… perhaps his mind had finally broken, and he was still in his cell, very clearly insane.
“Oh… oh… Potter, your face!” gasped Malfoy, and he sat up to lean forward, holding his sides. “I shouldn’t have done it to you, but… I’ll have to tell her about this, you know.”
“When did you and Hermione become friends?” Other things Malfoy had said during their escape came back to him, something about carrying Weasley across his shoulders… his head spun slightly.
“When the Ministry put you in Azkaban, declaring you a danger to the public as a potential Dark Lord.” Malfoy’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Complete bollocks, Potter. You don’t have it in you to be a Dark Lord. Scrimgeour’s just afraid of you, of your popularity and the fact that you don’t respect him at all. I suspect he was afraid you were going to start asking questions.”
“I was.” Harry couldn’t help the scowl.
Malfoy nodded. “So, I went to Granger and Weasley. It wasn’t easy, but you know, we had to work together before, I figured we could do it again. When Weasley asked me why, I said…” and now, Malfoy hesitated.
“What did you say?”
Malfoy grimaced. “I said I hadn’t really had a chance to act like a friend. That I’d wanted to be your friend, but I’d never acted like it, even after I changed sides. So… this was my chance.”
“And what did he say?”
“Well, he said, ‘Don’t act like a friend, Ferret. Be one.’” Malfoy grinned at him, and Harry grinned back. Yeah, that sounded like Ron. “So, I did, we got to work, and here we are.”
“That’s not really enough of an explanation,” Harry began.
“I know, but it’s all you’re getting right now.” Malfoy got up. “I’m going to see if Dobby has anything made for you to eat. You need feeding up, Potter. You’re going to need some fortification before Granger finds out you’re awake.” He went to the door.
“Malfoy?”
The blond turned back. “Yeah, Potter?”
“Thanks.”
Malfoy smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then he slipped through the door and closed it behind him.
Harry leaned back in the bed, going through everything Malfoy had told him… and hadn’t told him. Sighing, he put off his worries for another time. Endless days of nothing in a prison cell had made him rather good at that. He closed his eyes. Perhaps, in more ways than one, this was a time for new beginnings, all the way around.