Twisted chapter two

Harry blinked in surprise. "er...what?"

"I just said an English word. Stay. Don't tell me you couldn't understand the ever so complex meaning behind that word?" Harry could almost see the other boy rolling his eyes behind those closed lids.

"Oh. Okay" and he sat down beside him.

Silence hung uncomfortably between them. Unable to bear it any longer, Harry asked,

"What do you want?"

"I don't know."

He threw up his arm in exasperation. What does Malfoy wants from him? The blond did not seem to want to talk any more than he did. Yet, his fingers gripped Harry's robes tighter than ever. What was he supposed to do with him now? Sure, Harry could handle a sarcastic, mocking Malfoy. He was too used to that anyway. But now, Malfoy was lying in front of him in a semi-conscious state, probably not even sure of what he is saying himself. How the heck was Harry supposed to deal with him? Comfort him? That would feel so awkward, and harry doubt Draco would appreciate that kind of pitying. Oh Merlin, how on earth did he manage to land himself in such a situation? Harry growled in irritation.

"What, Potter?" Malfoy snapped almost immediately to Harry growl.

"Oh, absolutely nothing." Harry retorted back. "Just wondering what the hell am I supposed to do with you. Considering the fact you didn't want me to find someone who could actually save you. Perhaps I should have left you bleeding away. Save the awkwardness at least!"

"Then why didn't you!"

The question took Harry by surprise completely. Of all the insults he braced himself to receive, he certainly did not expect this one.

"I..."

"Just kill me already, Potter."

"What?" Harry's response was immediate and automatic. He stared horrified at Malfoy. Honestly, of all things to say, that?

"Do I have to repeat every sentence I say?" Malfoy muttered irritably. "I requested you to kill me."

"Just what kind of bloody request was that?"

"The one and only I'll ever beg of the famous Boy Who Lived"

"No." Harry said simply. "No. That's crazy. You can forget it."

"Why do you even care? You're right, should have left me bleeding to death." Malfoy said bitterly. "I'll be dead eventually anyway. If you don't kill me, he will. And if I get to choose, I'd rather die by your hands."

Harry continued to glare at Draco. Something inside him had changed. Even thought his usual sneering and mocking was extremely unbearable to Harry, but his current state was ten times worse than the worst insult Malfoy had ever thrown at him. Draco seemed to have lost the will to live. what had Voldemort done to him! All of sudden Harry felt the familiar wave of disgust and hatred he felt Voldemort well inside him. Another person, he thought, ruined by him.

"Look Malfoy, as much as I hate you for being such a prat all those years, I do not wish you dead. True enough, I wished for you to fall off your broom during Quidditch so you can break a couple of bones-"

"That's real cheerful to know."

"-but that's about it! Whatever you said, whatever you did, I never wanted you dead."

"Bloody Gryffindor spirit..." Malfoy muttered under his breath. "Fine then, if you are not going to do it, I shall just find some way to finish off me myself. I'm positive Weasel would be more than glad to fulfil my wish."

"Malfoy!" Harry snapped sharply.

The tone of Harry's voice irked him very much. It's e exact same tone Harry used whenever Malfoy laughed at him. He had always responded to that tone with smirks and sneers. But somehow, he could not bring himself to do that now. Clenching his jaws, he tried to stagger up. Unfortunately, he was overcome by a wave of nausea, causing him to black out momentarily.

Shit-!he thought in panic as his legs gave way underneath him.

However, instead of the painful hard bump he was expecting on the head, he was caught by a pair of steady strong hands. All of sudden when he fell in contact with Harry, a weird sensation shot through his body as he felt his memory being pulled out from him.

Suddenly, Harry was no longer in Hogwarts, he was falling, falling into the Malfoy Manor. Draco's ghostly pale figure, illuminated with sweat, kneeling in front of Voldemort, who was asking him if he is sure he wanted the Dark Mark. Draco's face contorted in pain as Voldemort deliberately and slowly marked him on the arm. He could not cry, he could not scream. No. Screaming and crying would mean weakness. Weakness would mean death. No. He had to endure the pain in silence. The scene was fading, it switches to a writhing Draco on the floor. Voldemort was using the Cruciatus spell on him. Still, Draco did not utter a sound. Voldemort grabbed him in a vice-like grip, ordering to kill Dumblrdore.

"His death or your family's. Choose wisely, Draco." the lipless mouth hissed to Draco. Voldemort's red eyes boring into Draco's greys. Draco collapsed onto the floor once more, in pain and submission-

"NO!" Harry yelled, staggering away from Draco, gasping loudly. The other boy collapsed on the floor, eyes wide in shock and horror.

"W-what was that, Potter?" Draco rasped shakily. "You-"

"No, no! Snape had been teaching me Occlumency. he had been diving into my memories for half a year now. It-it sorry I slipped out, I didn't- I wasn't doing that on purpose I swear. Oh Merlin...I..." Harry spluttered out incoherently, fearing the other boy's response. He, Malfoy's most hated person in this world, had dived into perhaps one of his darkest memories. However much he wanted to protest, he could not find the words to defend himself. Filled with a mixture of fear, shock and disbelief at the treatment Draco received and the tasked forced upon him by Voldemort, Harry could only stand there shakily looking down at the cowering boy. He steeled himself apprehensively to receive a series of insults and yellings from Draco. But it never come. Instead, Draco was sobbing.

Sobbing. In front of Harry Potter.

"T-That's it then, Potter." Malfoy choked out between sobs. "Go tell you precious little friends about what I am plotting and save the world again! Laugh it among yourselves yeah? Laugh about what a pathetic fool I was. Perhaps I could have a nice trip to Azkaban, hoping to receive a Dementor Kiss and-"

He could not continue.

"It hurts, Potter. It always hurt! It has been hurting ever since you pushed that hand away from me back then upon our first meeting. How did it end up the way it is now today? IT HURTS!" he yelled, not even aware of what he was saying.

And neither did Harry understand what he was doing then. Perhaps he never will, or perhaps it was just instinct. But whatever the reason was, he never regretted it. Not then, not now, not ever. Before he could stop himself, he impulsively drew Draco into a tight embrace.

It felt good whenever Hermione and Hagrid hugged him. The feeling they left was as though he would be safe no matter the severity of the situation, as though everything would be okay, even when they are not. To him, that illusion was all he need to keep him going. People had been comforting and supporting him all him life. Without them, even the Chosen One would not have been able to make it so far. Harry had always wanted to return the favour. Draco had looked so terrified then, so vulnerable and scared, and Harry decided that even if he is Draco Malfoy, he deserved some comfort.

"I'm sorry, Draco." he murmured softly.

Draco was taken aback by Harry's action. Part of him was screaming that this was wrong. He should not let Harry Potter, Voldemort's no.1 victim, his six-year long rival, the boy who had humiliated him in every way, hug him! Yet, he could not find the will for his hands to push Harry away. That was the closet human contact he had since god knows how long. His parents would never hug him, and even if they did, it's probably just manners and shows. This one...felt so sincere.

It felt so warm, so safe, and so comfortable.

At that spilt moment, Draco broke down, that barrier he had built around himself ever since he was burdened with the task of murder dissolved in an instant. Forgetting about Voldemort, his parents, or even Harry, he returned the hug, clinging onto his rival's back as though he would never let go. He cried. When was the last time he cried? He could not remember. But crying felt so good, as though all the pent up fear and frustration he had been bottling up was released like a steam. There he was, in the moonlit abandoned toilet, crying into Harry's shoulder without a single thought of the consequences. For a while, nothing in the world mattered.

Harry stood quietly as he let the blond boy cry to his heart content. His mind was not working logically, he decided. Everything seem so surrealistic to him, from Draco's flashback to his outburst of emotions. Just how long had he been keeping this to himself? Harry wondered. He guiltily admitted that even his situation had been better off than Draco's. At least Ron and Hermione had been there to support him when he was breaking down. Harry could trust them. But Draco...Harry could not imagine him confiding in his Slytherin housemates. Besides, judging by his outburst, he definitely had not.

The thought only made Harry tighten his hug around Draco more protectively. Damn it, he thought, forget about Malfoy. He is Draco, just Draco. Tonight, he had seen the real emotions of him, beyond that well-practiced mask of scorn and mockery that was so familiar to Harry. Tonight, standing there in the place where he almost killed someone (or so he thought, but the wound was not as serious as it looked actually), holding a terrified young Death eater who apparently regretted becoming what he was. Tonight, he won over Draco Malfoy again.

Strangely enough, there is no rivalry this time.