The halls were silent - completely deserted. The polar opposite of how Draco remembered them, usually full of students, milling about, talking, carrying books, huffing and puffing as they ran to classes they were late to. It was almost eerie in the wavering candlelight, the only thing that lit the dark marble castle.

The corridors of Hogwarts were all too familiar to the young Malfoy, but Harry, with his curious nature, wanted to stop every five seconds to ogle at a painting who waved at him, or follow a ghost down a random corridor, and squeaking in fear when a staircase moved. He was worse than one of the first years, worse than a mudblood even. Draco always thought it was hilarious to watch them stumble about the castle with no wits about them whatsoever. They were like that in general, mudbloods.

Draco kept a firm grip on his hand and hauled him up the stairs at a quick walk, knowing that they wouldn't be safe until they reached Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the only wizard he feared, the one solace, the only place that was truly safe was by that man's side. He was trembling for some reason, anticipation, expectation... he didn't know. His mind was in a whirlwind, overwhelmed by the fact that they were almost there. Almost safe.

"Draco," Harry whined, and the blond turned to see him gasping for breath, exhausted from climbing flight after flight of stairs. His face was red and his shoulders heaved. Despite how far he'd come, he still wasn't capable of everything, and Draco forgot that sometimes.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, moving to stand on the same step as Harry, letting the shorter boy lean on him, inwardly scolding himself for pushing Harry too far. "We'll be there soon, okay?" Draco ruffled his hair and moved to hold Harry's face in his hands. Merlin's beard, he looked adorable with his face so red. Draco leaned in to kiss his forehead, which made Harry smile, as it always did. "Come on, then. We can rest after we've seen Dumbledore."

Harry nodded, letting Draco take his hand again, leading him up the stairs at a slower pace. They reached the top floor before too long, making their was around the winding corridors to where the headmaster's office was. Draco groaned, realising with dismay that he didn't know the password to Dumbledore's office. The golden gargoyle stood still, refusing to acknowledge their plight, showing no signs of moving anytime soon. Draco smacked his fist against the gargoyle's chest, a delusional part of his exhausted mind thinking it might make some sort of difference, but nothing happened.

Holding his hand to his chest which was throbbing with pain, he turned to Harry, who was looking curiously between Draco and the statue, waiting for Draco to tell him what was going on.

"We need this statue to move, there's a passage behind it," Draco muttered. "It should open with a password, but I don't know it."

Harry looked back towards the statue, and moved towards it, placing his hand on the golden monument. Draco watched as the statue began to glow, Harry's eyes shut tightly. The sound of metal scraping across the stone floor filled the air, the statue finally stopping moving when a small space was made, just enough for them to squeeze past. Harry opened his eyes, panting with effort, hands shaking as he wiped his bleeding nose on his already bloodied sleeves. He looked exhausted, his pale and bloodstained face was twisted into a grimace, only making the numerous scars on his face stand out even more.

"Come here," Draco said softly, pulling Harry into his arms and lifting him up, carrying him. "You aren't taking another step today. I promise we can go to sleep soon."

Sleep. What a wonderful thought. Draco was so tired, fuelled only by the desperate remnants of Adrenalin lingering in his bloodstream. It has been the most exhausting week of his life so far, on the run like a fugitive, with no regular meals or bathing. His hair was thick with grease and dirt, and his clothes were still stained with blood from the danger they'd met on the way. He could hear his own footsteps dragging as he carried Harry up the spiralling staircase, sighing in relief at the wooden door ahead. He pushed it open, and stepped inside.

Dumbledore's office was completely dark and deserted, the headmaster likely down at the feast with the other teachers and the students. The blond leant against the door for a few seconds, catching sight of an armchair in a corner. He walked over to it, and set Harry down. Draco kneeled down in front of him, running a hand through Harry's dark hair, which, like his own, was filthy. His classes were cracked and his lips were chapped and bleeding in places. His eyes were half lidded, emerald irises dull and dark.

Draco let himself slip onto the ground, curling his legs beneath himself and letting his head fall into Harry's lap. How desperately he just wanted to close his eyes, drift off into sleep's dark embrace... Harry's hand on his neck woke him up slightly, the dark haired boy running his thumb over Draco's jaw. His hands were warm and gentle, and Draco couldn't help himself, fading into a calm sleep.

*

The next thing Draco was aware of was being shoved onto the floor. It wasn't a pleasant sensation to wake up to, the blond pulling himself up onto his hands and knees, blinking to try and orient himself.

A dark figure was standing in front of him - Harry, he recognised. Something was off, though. He was like an angry cat, having taken on a completely defensive stance, hands outstretched in a warning. Draco peered around Harry's shin, and saw light filtering into the office from the door, which was open. A familiar person stood in the doorway.

"Professor!" Draco cried, shattering the silence as he tried to scramble to his feet, falling back onto his knees in his panic. Harry jumped, flinching violently backwards, stumbling as well and falling onto the floor.

"Mr Malfoy?" The elderly voice asked, holding up a wand and silently casting lumos. Albus Dumbledore's face was illuminated by the faint blue light, a frown of concern etched onto his wrinkled features. His sky blue eyes were narrowed behind his half moon spectacles.

"I'm sorry to break into your office, sir, but it was urgent," Draco got to his feet successfully this time, quickly moving to help Harry who was having more difficulty getting back onto his feet.

"I see." The room was suddenly lit, golden light from a glowing, floating chandelier lighting up the room. Draco gazed in awe around it. He'd never been in the headmaster's office before, and it was quite a marvel. A bright red bird that was sitting on Dumbledore's shoulder flew to a perch beside his desk, a creature Draco recognised from his textbooks. A Phoenix. Large shelves lined the walls, with books that looked older than the headmaster himself adorning them. Moving portraits littered the walls behind the man's desk, all portraits of the previous headmasters of Hogwarts. Random magical artefacts and trinkets littered the space, the decor haphazard to say the least. "And who would this be?"

Dumbledore had taken a seat behind his desk, and folded his hands neatly on it. He peered over his spectacles at Harry, who was still relying on Draco to be able to stand.

"This is Harry," Draco said softly, watching as two chairs moved across the floor to rest in front of the desk. Draco took the hint, and helped Harry over into one, letting himself collapse in the other. A shaky sigh left his lips and he tilted his head backwards, even more exhausted after his brief nap.

"Well, it is lovely to meet you, Harry. I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of this school."

Harry nodded slowly, a guarded look remaining on his face. He wrapped his arms around his chest, something he always did when he was anxious.

"Now, would you care to explain what is going on?"

"It's a long story sir," Draco chuckled. "I met Harry at the beginning of the holidays. He was a prisoner in Azkaban after muggles experimented on him. My father wanted me to nurse himself back to health, so he could be an asset to the Dark Lord. But... I couldn't," Draco's voice broke. "I couldn't let him. So we ran away, and we've been on the run for a week or so now. I hoped you'd be able to help us, seeing as you're the only person He fears."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. His gaze was curious as he watched Harry, who stared right back, as if looking away would be a surrender. "That is a very interesting story, Mr Malfoy. It must have been very difficult for both of you. But I do have a few questions."

Draco blinked tiredly and nodded. He had expected that.

"Harry, can you tell me why you were in Azkaban?" Dumbledore asked. Harry frowned, looking at Draco, who gave him an encouraging smile.

"Hurt people," Harry said under his breath.

"I see. How did you do that?"

"With my mind."

There was a brief pause. "That is very curious Harry. You see, most wizards, like Draco and I, have to say spells and use a wand to be able to do things like that. However, you are different in some way. You can almost feel it," he turned to Draco then. "Like magic in the air." Draco frowned, somewhat amused. "Forgive my curiosity." Dumbledore chuckled then. "What things can you do with your mind?"

"Make things move," Harry replied quietly.

"He blew up our dining room and... turned a death eater inside out," Draco answered, lowering his own voice.

"Hmm. I see why Voldemort would want you as an asset, Harry. But not to worry, that will never happen. Not as long as I have anything to say about it."

Draco nodded thankfully. "Please, Sir, I have one thing to ask. Is there any way to find out if my mother is still alive?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly. Tears pricked at Draco's eyes. The past week had been so exhausting he'd hardly allowed himself time to think about his mother, lest it distract and thus endanger himself and Harry. But leaving her in that place, in that mansion with those people...

"I will alert Professor Snape and ensure her safety. In the meantime, you both look like you need a bath, some food and sleep."

Draco gave a teary smile. "That would be lovely."

"The prefect bathrooms should be empty at this hour, I would think. The password is Pine Fresh. There is a room on this floor, it's to the left of the tapestry of 'The Pale Wizard', if you recall that one." Draco frowned but nodded, remembering the tapestry illustrating a man with skin and hair white as snow, one eye blind.

"Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled kindly. "I will send a house elf with some food. Tomorrow morning, though, I ask that you return here. No doubt Voldemort will be looking for you two, and we must discuss what is to be done moving forward."

*

"Pine Fresh."

The door to the prefect bathrooms swung open. Luckily their journey had been uneventful, Draco didn't know if he could handle talking to other students at this hour, or even so much as looking at them. He just needed to relax.

He and Harry stepped into the prefect bathroom, and Draco looked around curiously. He'd never been in here before - despite having searched and explored the vast majority of the castle, this was one of the few rooms he'd never managed to gain entry to. It was a large room, most noticeably with a giant pool in the middle. Towards the far end the floor was so low that Draco was sure the water would cover his head. An intricate system of pipes and taps surrounded the pool, all marked with a colour, symbol, or some other distinguishing feature. A stained glass window, picturing a mermaid slowly combing her hair allowed the moonlight to shine into the room, casting tall shadows behind the two.

The mermaid turned in interest towards them, pausing her combing for a second to observe them. Harry stared back, intrigued, but glanced away when he heard water rushing from a faucet.

Draco had turned one of the taps on, a jet of warm green water flooding from it, smelling vaguely like apples. He raised his eyebrows, and turned on the faucet next to it. A soft pink, smelling like cotton candy.

It wasn't long before he'd managed to turn on every tap in the room, each with a different colour and scent. By the time he'd finished, the pool was full of warm, bubbly water. It looked so inviting Draco was tempted just to dive in fully clothed.

Draco turned back to Harry, who'd been watching in silence. The smallest of smiles was on his face, the bright moonlight cast across his skin shadowing his scars across his cheeks, making all of them much more noticeable. But even with those scars, he still looked beautiful. Harry turned his attention back to the pool, looking at it confusedly.

The Malfoy manor had a pool, of course, but it was hardly used in the winter because of how cold it got in Wiltshire. So Harry had never seen one before. "It's like a bath, but a lot bigger," Draco explained. "So you have to stand up."

Harry gave a slow nod, watching as Draco peeled off his filthy shirt, tossing it into a corner. Merlin's beard, it felt good to rid himself of his clothes, leaving only his underwear on before stepping into the warm water. He never really noticed how much he took for granted, clean clothes, a roof over his head, a guaranteed meal, baths... after being on the run, all of it was a privilege now.

He dove under the water, relishing in the silence as the warm water flowed through his greasy hair. He stayed under till his lungs began to burn, before surfacing, shivering as the cold air washed over his face. Draco ran a hand through his hair and wiped the water from his eyes, looking around for Harry.

He was sitting on the edge, the water lapping around his shins. He looked too nervous to get fully in the water, but had a blissful expression if only from the water on his legs.

Draco swam over, Harry giving him a small smile. "Come on, it's fun. I'll teach you how to swim."

"Okay," Harry replied softly, letting Draco take his waist and pull him slowly into the water. Harry clung to Draco, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck, suddenly not so keen on learning how to swim. Draco just chuckled, nuzzling the side of Harry's face.

"Let's at least wash your hair then. We can go and find some food after that, okay?" Harry nodded eagerly. Draco had seen the way Harry's ribs poked through his skin again whilst he was sitting on the edge. It pained him to see what they'd accomplished rotting away.

Draco scooped handfuls of water over Harry's head, doing his best to wash away the dirt. It took a fair amount of scrubbing to remove the dried bloodstains from Harry's neck, and the layers of dust and dirt on his skin were even more tough. By the time Draco had managed to clean him off fully, Harry had fallen asleep, leaning his head on Draco's shoulder.

There seemed to be some sort of enchantment on the room - because as soon as Draco stepped out of the pool, Harry in his arms, both were immediately dry. It was sort of amusing to watch Harry's hair become all large and fluffy again, how it had always been before. Draco found with a smile that their clothes were clean too, no longer splattered with blood and dirt.

Clothing Harry was a bit more difficult, Draco didn't want to wake him up. He'd had an especially overwhelming day, and no doubt needed the sleep very much. Leaving the bathroom, Draco did his best to remember where the tapestry of the pale wizard was. It was on the highest floor, near Dumbledore's office. He'd never taken much notice of the tapestry before, it was alike most others in Hogwarts. It moved from time to time, but never spoke. Draco ignored the tapestry as he twisted the doorknob to the room they'd been given, looking around the room. It had two beds, one of which they wouldn't need, coffee table, a dresser and a rug. It had no windows, and looked like it had been furnished not very long ago. On the coffee table were several plates of sandwiches and a jug of pumpkin juice.

As soon as they'd finished eating, it was all Draco could do to drag them both to bed, both asleep before their heads hit the pillow.

*

His feet were bare on the hardwood floors, cold beneath them. Bits of glass stung his feet as they tore jagged holes in his flesh, glass that was already stained with blood, blood that wasn't his. The window had been blown out - no, all the windows had.

The manor was painfully silent as the boy walked the halls, searching for any sign of life. The grand chandelier was on the floor, having partially broken a hole in the floorboards. He stepped around it, and continued on. A loud crash made him turn, looking back into the dark hall from where he'd come.

A door was swinging on its hinges, continually slammed shut and blown back open by the wind flowing through the house. He walked towards it, a familiar stench filling his nostrils. He peered into the room, seeing only darkness, but able to make out a faint silhouette.

A woman was lying on a bed in the centre of the room. Her silvery white hair had been cut off and was strewn about her. She was completely naked, her skin pale, almost blue, no blood running through her veins. The blood was instead scattered around the room, soaking the sheets beneath her, forming pools around the bed.