I suck, I know.

Have a long long LONG overdue chapter that may or may not be terrible, I'll tell you when I'm a little bit more coherent.

Chapter 15 - Stray

The following morning brought with it a chill the blew through every corridor of the castle. Harry drew his cloak in closer to himself as he made the commute down to breakfast, Ron moaning at his side about his unfinished Potions essay, completely oblivious to the fact that Harry's mind was clearly elsewhere.

Draco had finished his explanation somewhat abruptly the night before, standing suddenly from his perch next to Harry and fleeing from the Hospital Wing just as Madam Pomfrey had bustled back into earshot. Harry was sure he had been crying, though he was still struggling to recall the details of Draco's tale, let alone the look on the other boy's face as he had told it.

Harry wasn't even sure when he would get to speak to Draco again, if at all. Perhaps Draco would consider his explanation enough, the be all and end all of their friendship, and some kind of closure to a case that Harry really didn't seem capable of leaving alone.

It was weird, though. Something just didn't seem to sit right in Harry's stomach as he thought of Draco's words, his detached description of his father and the feeble tone he had taken towards the very end.

"'Stand by your house, Draco' he told me, 'Don't stray, Draco.' It's like he knew I was going to come find you, and that maybe I wouldn't want-"

Want what?

He'd bolted before Harry had even had the chance to ask, sputtering out a rough apology before disappearing through the double doors, leaving Harry behind, caked in blood and completely confused. What wouldn't Draco want?

His feet felt heavy as he descended the marble staircase, Ron tugging at his own hair and clearly distraught, though for what reason Harry didn't know any more, eyes wide as he slouched his way down the stairs. All around him, sleepy students dawdled in through the doors to the Great Hall, the smell of bacon wafting out and making Harry's mouth water.

His stomach rumbled eagerly as he entered the Hall, averting his eyes from the Slytherin table and heading instead for the mountains of food awaiting him at the Gryffindor table. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Draco, more that he didn't want to see the smug looks on every other Slytherin's face, basking in the glow of having one of their students punch the famous Harry Potter in the face, and walk away alive and well.

He wouldn't doubt that the word had spread through the other houses, seeing as Pansy Parkinson was the biggest loud mouth in just about all of Hogwarts. He ducks his head and walks just the slightest bit faster, before finally falling into the seat next to an unfortunate looking Neville, studying a rather odd red orb.

"Hey, Harry," the boy greeted distractedly, rubbing a hand to his forehead and squinting hard at the little glass ball.

"Morning." He immediately occupied himself with picking up several rashers of bacon and dumping them onto his plate, poking at the meat half-heartedly with his fork. Food was still a bit of a sore spot for Harry, even though he had been in this place more than long enough to settle into the 'eat what you want' routine, it still felt strange to take such large servings for only himself. Where was Dudley to swipe it away from him?

Crabbe and Goyle are a little like Dudley, he supposed, especially since one of them had managed to break Harry's nose last night. They're about as stupid as Dudley, too, if their blank expressions are anything to go by.

He propped his chin in his hand, looking away from the food being shifted around on his plate and over to the two boys, who sure enough, were fully engrossed by the food in front of them and little else. His eyes lingered there for a moment, before finally settling on Draco.

An uncharacteristically dishevelled Draco.

He looked as though he hadn't slept a wink, dark circles bruised beneath those pretty eyes and his hair sticking up at strange angles, hand cupped around one pale cheek as the other pushed around his food in much the same way as Harry. Then, just like that, his eyes have flicked up from the table, to stare straight across the Hall at Harry, who really can't look much better.

The hold the eye contact for far longer than necessary, Draco's brow furrowing significantly and his lips falling into a frown as they stare and stare, not daring to look away for a second, until Harry is nudged sharply in the ribs. He hissed in protest, turning to glare at Ron who ignored the look completely, waving a hunk of bacon in front of his face happily.

"This stuff is excellent," he gushed, "I could eat only this for the rest of my life."

"I wouldn't put it past you," Harry snorted in reply, glancing back at the Slytherin table, only to find Draco speaking to the boy next to him. His stomach gave another significant rumble at that moment, beckoning the food on his plate longingly, and finally drawing Harry's attention back to the task at hand.

Lessons go terribly that day.

Between Harry messing up his potion and Hermione glaring daggers at him across the room in almost every other class, he would give almost anything to just curl up in his bed by the time dinner rolls around.

Hermione would have none of that, of course.

"You have a charms essay due first thing in the morning, Harry, and I'll bet you haven't even started it."

"I'll just do it at breakfast-"

"Oh, no you won't Harry Potter-"

"Okay! Okay, I'm going to the Library, then. Don't give me that look."

He had skipped dinner to do just that, finding himself a desk toward the back of the library and yawning widely, before flipping open his Charms book with a groan. He barely made it through the introduction, though, before the soft clearing of a throat disturbed him.

His head snapped up immediately, quill slipping from his fingers as Draco stood in front of him, his own Charms book tucked beneath his arm and his bottom lip worried between his teeth.

"Hi," Harry whispered, wary of a lurking Madam Pince.

"Hi,' Draco whispered back, gesturing toward the empty chair in front of him, "Can I sit?"

Harry blinked at him, eyebrows knitted together, "Of...Of course you can."

As Draco settled himself, Harry looked back to his barely started essay, scratching at his nose and huffing in frustration. He was not going to finish this any time soon.

"Sorry for leaving so suddenly last night," Draco whispered out of nowhere, Harry looking back up to where the other boy had settled, head bowed as though he was ashamed of himself.

"It's okay," Harry settled his hands awkwardly on the desk, chewing on his own lip in some feeble attempt to keep his mouth shut.

It couldn't be more plain to Harry that Draco really didn't want to talk about whatever it was he'd almost let slip last night. What other reason would he have for bolting like that? Maybe he thought Harry wouldn't like what he was going to say?

"No, it isn't,' Draco sighed heavily, picking at the spine of his textbook, "It was rude, and I should've just finished what I was saying instead of being stupid."

"You weren't-"

"I just didn't want Madam Pomfrey to hear me, that's all," his cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, "It's not exactly something I should be saying."

"What do you mean?" Harry felt his brow crease, tilting his head to the side as Draco stared determinedly down at his book.

"When my dad..." he paused, took a deep breath, and finally looked up at Harry, "When my dad told me not to- to stray. I think that he thought... that I might not want to be a Slytherin any more." His eyes, pretty and shining as ever, looked so pained in that moment it felt like someone was ripping Harry little heart right out of his chest.

"Is that really so bad?" Harry asked carefully.

"Yes." Draco breathed, pressing one long, pale finger to his temple, "Can you imagine what he'd do to me if I ended up being a Malfoy in Gryffindor? He'd skin me alive." His eyes grew wide, the prospect of actually being skinned obviously presenting itself in his mind.

"But you're not in Gryffindor? You're in Slytherin, so you're fine."

"It wanted to put me there."

"What?"

"The hat," he swallowed thickly, tears shimmering in his eyes now and his finger digging hard into the side of his head, "It told me, that I should be in Gryffindor, and that that was where my heart truly lies." he shook his head, smiling weakly as the tears threatened to break their banks, "But I begged it, Harry, I begged it to put me in Slytherin."

"And it did..." Harry looked back down at his book, frowning slightly as Draco continued.

"Even that stupid hat was trying to tell me that I was being stupid. You were the only good thing I ever had... and I begged that stupid hat to take me away from you."

"Draco-"

All of a sudden, Draco rose from his chair, knocking it over in his haste and practically threw himself across the table, grabbing Harry around the neck and flooding Harry's body with a warmth he thought he would never feel again.

His arms rise of their own accord, and soon enough, at the back of the library, the Gryffindor and the Slytherin are hugging each other so tightly it hurt.

They say one cannot know the beauty of a sunrise, if you haven't first endured the dark.

This isn't the end, I promise. I will return far sooner this time because I hate being a horrible person.