Third Place - Drama

(Monday thru Wednesday)

Harry seemed to fall into his new routine fairly quickly. By Wednesday, I could be assured that he would go with Dobby without tears. He would hug my neck and kiss my cheek and trot away holding hands with the house-elf after breakfast. I would see him again at lunchtime, pictures firmly in hand for me to peruse. He seemed to be taking my �on-a-whim� suggestion of drawing to heart. Not a meal went by for those three days that I hadn�t a handful of parchment to look through before we could begin to eat.

I was genuinely surprised at his skill. I don�t have a clue where he learned to draw. Longbottom and Ginny said he�d never shown any interest in it before. Weasel snorted and shrugged, which I took to mean �why no, Draco old chap, I haven�t any idea where he learned to draw so well, and as his best friend in the whole world, I�m sure I would have known if he were somehow interested in learning to draw.�

Or it could have been �piss off, you wanker�.

Granted, the drawings weren�t of sellable quality, like those his dorm mate Thomas drew, but they were easily recognizable and correctly colored. Granger assured me that this fact alone was remarkable in as much as most young children will color according to which color pleases them best and not which represents the actual object. I had an art tutor. I wouldn�t know.

What was most remarkable to me, and to the others after I graciously pointed it out, was that Harry was drawing things that he shouldn�t have been able to remember. The first day, he handed me a picture of Remus Lupin. Lupin was smiling brightly and waving. His hair was in girlish ringlets but the cardigan sweater was a dead giveaway; as was the addition of a moon and stars in the left hand corner.

Harry also handed me a picture of himself standing next to a huge black dog. I thought he had just decided to draw typical child things until Granger gasped and snatched the picture from my hands. She began mumbling �Snuggles! It�s Snuggles!� which I found very odd as the dog certainly didn�t look snuggly to me. He looked like a bloody Grim. Granger apparently didn�t appreciate the voicing of my opinion were her glare to mean anything.

Weasel snatched the paper from Granger�s hands (I was slightly amused that she didn�t like it any better than I had) and gaped at it until I was sure a string of drool was going to fall at any moment. He nodded and grinned at Granger. "It is Snuffles!" he agreed. Ah. Snuffles, rather. As if that were somehow any better than Snuggles.

Harry preened under the Weasel and Granger�s crooning for all of about ten minutes, after which, he began edging away from them. Not that I blamed him. Their questions were taking an urgent turn, and when Harry wasn�t able to answer any of them, he began to get upset. We took dinner at the Slytherin table to get away from them. I think Ginny slapped some sense into them during our absence, however, as Weasel was sullen through the whole of the meal and Granger looked on the verge of tears...again.

The second day went better. His pictures were of simple things like Quidditch and Crookshanks and Hedwig. He also drew a caricature of Pansy that had Crabbe choking on his sandwich and sniggering into his pumpkin juice. Harry had drawn her with huge knockers and a positive haystack of blonde hair. Pansy just thanked a proud Harry and bestowed a kiss on his cheek, bending down so that her actual knockers were exposed to Crabbe�s suddenly wide eyes. When she sat back up, she adjusted them slightly and smirked at Crabbe�s gaping mouth.

Pansy and Millicent exchanged significant looks and I wasn�t all that surprised to find out later that Crabbe�s bed had been plastered with duplicates of Harry�s drawing. Harry was thrilled that Crabbe had taken such a liking to his Pansy pictures and made a point to draw several more just for him. I had truly started to look forward to the art presentation before meals.

And then, Wednesday evening, Dobby accompanied Harry to the Gryffindor table. He had a worried look on his small face and Harry looked sulky. Harry plopped down onto the bench and began to shovel food onto his plate, ignoring my questioning look. Dobby produced the expected drawings, holding them out to me in a shaking hand. I thanked him and took them, frowning in concern at Harry�s stiffened back.

I began to thumb through them. Cornish Pixies...me on a broom...what I can only assume is The Burrow from the abundance of redheaded figures on the front lawn...and a picture that made my blood run cold. My eyes shot up to meet Dobby�s and he nodded sadly before vanishing soundlessly. I turned my attention to Harry who was studiously avoiding me.

"Harry?" I said quietly.

He flinched and shoved another bite into his mouth.

"Harry, I�d like to talk to you about this picture," I continued.

He uttered a grunt and actually turned his back to me. I narrowed my eyes. Fine. Two can play that game. "Granger," I said loudly, not taking my eyes from Harry�s back. I saw him flinch again and his knuckles whiten around his fork.

"Yes, Draco?" she returned, curiosity in her voice.

"I�d like you to take a look at something." I handed the picture stack over to her, last picture on top. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. That, of course, garnered the attention of the rest of the Gryffindorks and in another moment Weasel, Ginny and Neville were crowded around Granger staring in horror at the picture.

Harry turned to glare at me with all the force he could muster at my betrayal. I just raised an eyebrow at him. He tried to hold onto his anger. I could see him wavering between his glare and the tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes. With a sigh I cocked my body sideways a bit and held my arms open. He launched into them with enough force to knock me into Thomas, sitting on the other side of me.

I held Harry, rocking him gently as I watched the Gryffindor crew stare in distress at the parchment. Not that I blamed them. I found it rather distressing myself. Harry had drawn something no one had ever seen...and yet everyone could identify it.

A naked Harry lay on a stone floor. His hair stood out starkly black against the grey color used for the stone. His eyes were green scribbles over a red slash of a mouth and under a red zigzag of a lightning bolt. His body was sexless, a peach colored blob save for the slashing red marks in places I knew the real Harry still had silvery scars.

Picture Harry was lying up against the wall facing an upright figure in black. The figure wore a cloak with a hood. The only distinguishing mark about him was the long hank of blonde hair that lay against the black of the material. He was holding a wand; a very familiar wand. It was the black of Harry�s hair except where pale fingers gripped the light grey of a snakehead.

The figure...the man...Lucius pointed the wand at Harry and a pale red line was drawn, connecting the wand and encircling Harry. Even had I not been aware of the colors of the Unforgivable curses, I would have known what this was. It was Harry�s nightmare. It was the story of a Malfoy�s sin. It was Lucius casting Crucio over and over again.

Eventually, I calmed Harry enough to peel him from my side. I wound up bribing him to get him to finish his dinner, and directly after we headed for the pitch for a bit. I really thought that the memory at dinner might have been buried by the hours of soaring through the sky. I was wrong. The overcast sky finally gave in and it began to rain. We darted around in the drops for a few minutes longer, but the drops began coming down more quickly and the temperature seemed to drop suddenly. So, I hurried us indoors.

Harry giggled the whole way, evading my grasp as I tried to flip his hood up to keep his head dry. I gave up and just pulled my own up, wondering if I�d ever loved the rain like Harry seemed to. We made it to the shelter of the main hallway and shoved the door closed behind us, our chests heaving with gasps and laughter. Harry grinned up at me and shook his head like a dog, wetting me down even further.

I squirmed away and cast a Drying Charm on myself, feeling immediately better. With the words of the spell on my lips again, I turned to cast the same charm on Harry. The last thing he needed was to get sick. But the giggling Harry of a moment ago was gone. Harry sat shoved up against the door, his eyes wide in terror...staring at me.

"What?" I demanded. "What�s wrong?" I turned to glance behind me. Nothing. I turned back to Harry. Tears were beginning to seep from his eyes, mixing with the rainwater on his face. "What is it, Harry? Tell me!" I ordered, feeling the beginnings of panic.

"Please," Harry whispered. "Please, no more. I�ll do whatever you want. Just no more."

"Harry, you�re scaring me," I said, beginning to move closer to him.

"No!" he shrieked, scrabbling away. "I�ll be good! I promise. I�ll do anything you ask. Please!"

I froze.

And looked at the situation from an outside angle. From outside the crying, terrified boy against the wall. From outside the panicking, terrified boy somehow causing it. And I remembered just why we had been outside in the first place. Because of a man. A blonde haired man in a black hooded cloak. Holding a wand that was pointed at a boy cowering on the ground.

I literally threw my wand away. I would have to Accio it later as I had no idea where I sent it. My cloak came off next, so fast that the frog closure ripped from the neckpiece and clinked across the floor. I threw myself next. Into a crouch, a harmless crouch, with my hands out in a pleading gesture as I tried as hard as I�d ever tried anything before to look harmless.

"Harry, please. It�s Draco," I whispered. "I won�t hurt you. He�s not here. You�re safe. Please, Harry, come back to me."

I have no idea how long I lay there in the Great Hall, hands out in supplication, pleading to a sobbing boy who was nearly mindless with fear. But eventually, the sobs slowed. Pretty green eyes cracked open to see me...me and not my bloody father. And then he was crawling across the floor to meet me. We sat, huddled into a wet, frightened ball for Merlin knows how long.

Harry was whispering something under his breath, something I couldn�t understand, but his arms were tight around my waist. I heard a bit of movement to the side and clutched Harry a bit tighter before turning to see what it was. I met the large, sad eyes of Dobby the house-elf who was sitting a meter or so away. Under my watchful eye, he scooted forward slowly until he was close enough to touch Harry�s leg.

His small hands reached out and began gently stroking Harry�s calf as mine were stroking his back. Harry let out a long shuddering sigh and relaxed into my arms. Dobby and I sat there for a while longer. Me holding Harry. Dobby holding Harry. Harry holding me.

Oh how I hated my father.

POV�Dobby

Dobby is most surprised and honoured that Master Draco is asking him to care for the great Harry Potter. Dobby is very sad about what has happened. Harry Potter is Dobby�s friend and if Dobby could, he would do bad things to Lucius Malfoy. House-elves are not supposed to harm wizards, but Dobby would. Yes, he would. Lucius Malfoy was a very bad Wizard and Dobby is always grateful that Harry Potter has freed him from that family.

Poor Harry Potter. He is like a child, like Master Draco was many years ago, but not mean and nasty. It is very strange for Dobby to look at Harry Potter�s man body and see a child looking back. Dobby is hearing what Lavender Brown did to Harry Potter. The house-elves are all very angry about this. No one should hurt a child. We decided not to do her laundry or make up her bed or clean her room. It is a good thing for her she is gone and a good thing for Hogwarts too.

Dobby is taking good care of Harry Potter. Dobby is fixing him all of his favourite foods and playing his favourite games. Dumbledore is giving Dobby Muggle colour sticks and parchment for Harry Potter. At first, Dobby is not understanding what they are for, but when Harry Potter is seeing them he is very happy. Dobby is understanding later when Harry Potter is showing him the beautiful picture he is making.

The first day he is drawing the werewolf and hisself with a dog that was Sirius Black. Dobby is remembering seeing the dog at Hogwarts with Hermione Granger�s cat. Harry Potter grinned at Dobby and pointed to the picture. "Me and Snuffles," he said. After that, he is looking very confused and is taking another piece of parchment and starting to draw again. Dobby wishes he could help.

The next day he is making pictures of his owl and Hermione Granger�s cat and Pansy Parkinson. Dobby is thinking this picture is very good because that is how Miss Parkinson looks to a short elf. And he drew pictures of Quidditch. Mr. Harry Potter loves Quidditch.

Then Harry Potter is drawing a picture of himself and Dobby and Harry Potter is giving the picture to Dobby. Dobby is not believing that such a great wizard is giving something so wonderful. Dobby is hanging the picture above his bed. He will always keep it. It is better than a pair of socks.

On the last day, something terrible is happening. Harry Potter is making more pictures and Dobby is cleaning. Harry Potter stops Dobby to show him every new picture. He is drawing Master Draco on a broom and his Wheezy�s house and then he is quiet for a long time. Dobby is suddenly noticing that Harry Potter is not moving. Harry Potter is holding his knees to hisself and he is rocking back and forth. Dobby is not knowing what to do, then Harry Potter gets up and leaves.

That is when Dobby is seeing the picture. The terrible, terrible picture. Dobby is knowing that Master Draco must see this, but Dobby is afraid Master Draco will punish him. So Dobby is following Harry Potter to the Great Hall and is giving the pictures to Master Draco. Then Dobby is leaving quickly.

Later, Dobby is hearing Harry Potter cry and Master Draco giving comfort. He is not like his father. Dobby is trying to help too, but even house-elf magic does no good. Dobby thinks Master Malfoy loves Harry Potter. Wizards do not think house-elves know about love. Dobby does. Dobby loves Harry Potter. But not the way Master Malfoy does. Dobby�s love makes him sad. Master Malfoy�s love kills him slowly.

Retreat - Chapter 13

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