Chapter Seventeen: Lost souls

"And what do you think you're doing, Harry James Potter?" Draco glared at the person in front of him.

Harry blinked and shook his head.

"You looked like you were having a bad dream." He pointed out, retracting his hand so that it was hanging in the air.

Draco snorted. "Obviously, Potter, I don't need you to point that out."

"I just thought you needed some company." Harry said simply, yet sadly.

"Because I know it was what I would've wanted."

Draco stared at him speechlessly.

"And what makes you think that I would your comfort out of all the other people?"

Harry's hand twitched, and suddenly he was cupping Draco's face in his hands.

Draco blinked in shock before struggling to get away.

"Don't move." Harry's voice, somewhat commanding, stopped him. There they remained, the light washing over them as time slipped past.

"Can you really tell me you're okay when you're crying, Draco?"

..................

Crying?

He, Draco Malfoy, was..crying?

It was with a sudden shock when he realized that his face was now wet with tears that was flowing without him realizing.

He jerked his face from Harry's hands, his face burning from his touch, a scalding, burning touch.

His long pale fingers swiped furiously at his eyes, as if the intensity could somehow make his tears stop flowing.

Why now?

Why, when Harry Potter was in front of him, watching him with those eyes of his?

Why, why, why-

"Draco, Draco, stop."

He wouldn't-couldn't stop.

"Go away, Potter. Just LEAVE ME ALONE-

Draco found himself speechless when he was surrounded by a warm embrace. Struggling to get away from the warmth that he so desperately craved, so desperately wanted, he went limp when Harry only hugged him harder.

And instead of yelling or screaming at him, he only cried harder. And harder. And harder. Until he was struggling to breathe, until he couldn't see anything outside of the blurry vision of his tears.

To be honest, now he had no idea what he was crying for.

Perhaps it was his warm embrace that reminded him of what he never had, a warm and kind, loving family. Of the bare patch of skin on his arm that would have happened had he never joined. Of being surrounded with real friends instead of those who was infatuated with the idea of pureblood. Or maybe it was the thought of what he would all have had he not walk the wrong path, made the wrong choices.

He drowned in his own tears, while Harry became his sole anchor to this world.

............................................

Harry held him as tight as he could while Draco sobbed into his shoulder. Flashing back to the time when he had heard Draco crying softly in the toilet, he regretted not asking what happened. He was too caught up with his hatred, with this stubborn idea that he could never befriend someone like Draco Malfoy, a snobbish boy from Slytherin while he was from Gryffindor.

What would've happened, he wondered, if he had took his hand on the first day on the train?

Brushing his hair gently, he combed his fingers through his soft hair, letting him cry his heart out. He had no idea what anguish he must have gone through to break him down like this.

It broke his heart.

But in the end, what was he doing here, letting go of everything just to find him?

Was he mad?

Counteracting thoughts raced through his mind, causing flashes of pain in his head. He flinched slightly, making sure that he hid it well enough that Draco never noticed it.

He would hide his own pain.

If it meant others never had to worry about him.

He was afraid of these feelings in him, but he was more afraid of what would happen to Draco if he left him here, alone, suffering.

So he held on. He held on as tightly as he could, yet gentle was his embrace.

In the cosy place were two lost boys, trying to run when they were all but broken down.

........................

Headmistress McGonagall paced around the room where Dumbledore once sat, the portraits watching her every move. Some with eyes of worry, some with indifference. Yet all was waiting for her to settle on the mind blowing information she was just given.

She stopped and turned around furiously.

"You're telling me now, Silviam, that if no one is willing to stay by Malfoy's side by the end of this year, he will be exiled?"

"Well, not exactly the way you say it, but yes." Professor Silviam's mouth twitched into a sad smile.

"If the boy-who-lived, that is, Harry, chose to abandon that boy, the Ministry will exile him from the wizarding world."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" The woman exploded.

He sighed and began to massage his forehead. "You would have practically forced the two boys to bond, wouldn't you?"

Her eyebrow twitched slightly. "Well not exactly that-

"But something similar." He finished the sentence for her.

She shook her head slowly. "Kingsley won't allow this to happen..."

"There is only so much he can do. Some are quite willing to see the last Malfoy heir to disappear after what the Malfoy bloodline has committed for Voldemort."

"Then they are foolish." She spat. It was rare to see the woman so riled up as she is, but under the current circumstances it was understandable.

"Not everyone views things as gray. In their minds, everything is black and white, nothing more. I do understand where they are coming from, since their families were murdered by Draco's father." Professor Silviam let out a long breath.

"What says you, Snape? He is after all your godson."

Snape looked at them, scowling. Only a glint of his eyes showed that he was indeed, worried.

"That boy has always been complicated. There is only so much I can do in this form of mine."

Silence filled the room. The other portraits waited impatiently, as they come to a conclusion.

"I guess it all depends on Harry's choice now."

A surprise might come tomorrow! :)