Just like Brothers

Chapter 109

Draco wasn't expecting his comfortable, familiar house, but he definitely wasn't expecting whatever hellhole 12 Grimmauld Place was.

"Where the fuck are we?" Draco scoffed, fanning dust away from his face.

"Language." Severus chided. "Run along and find Harry, he's around here somewhere."

"Where are you off too then?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"We've got a meeting." Sirius sighed, "it probably won't be over until well after midnight."

"If you're hungry, there's Cocoa Puffs in the kitchen." Severus said.

"Wait—" Draco tried but the two of them had already ducked into a door to their left.

"Bloody hell." Draco swore as he stood in the entryway, he figured the staircase would be the best place to start.

"Harry!" He hollered, "Harold!"

"Up here." Harry's voice sounded from another floor or so above.

Draco took the stairs two at a time and spotted Harry's head peeking out a door.

"You absolute arsehole!" Draco scowled, "I haven't heard from you in weeks! We thought you were dead! A note would've sufficed!"

"Sorry." Harry drawled, "it's not like I was traumatized or anything."

Draco rolled his eyes but pulled him in for a hug. "I suppose I'm glad you're okay."

"Gee, thanks." Harry scoffed, but hugged him back nonetheless. "Come on, I have a ton to tell you."

He opened the door wider to what was clearly his room.

It was much more lived it and less musky and abandoned as the rest of the house Draco had seen thus far.

"Your room is the one over." Harry explained, "the Weasley's are moving in next week...you're sharing with the twins."

"Brilliant." Draco grinned, "I love the twins."

"I know." Harry said, "figured you'd prefer them over Ron."

"You figured correctly," Draco said, sprawling out on Harry's bed, "where are we?"

"It's Sirius's house," Harry said, "the one he was raised in."

"Well it's a shithole." Draco said.

"It is." Harry nodded.

"Why're we here then?"

"Something called the Order of the Phoenix," Harry explained, "we're fighting Voldemort."

"He's really back?" Draco's voice was small, he squeezed his eyes shut, knowing the answer yet still unprepared to hear it.

"He's back." Harry sighed, "I've got a nasty scar to prove it."

"You mean you've got two now?" Draco sat up quickly to look at Harry's forehead.

"No," Harry rolled his eyes, holding out his forearm, "don't reckon this one is cursed but with my luck...who knows?"

"So we're stuck here? All summer?"

"Looks that way."

"Well shit, that sucks," Draco groaned, "who else lives here?"

"Remus and Sirius full time," Harry explained, "Severus goes back and forth between here and home...the Weasley's are coming like I said, and a couple others come through here and there, I even met the real Moody."

"He's out of the hospital?"

Harry nodded. "Just wait until you meet him, I'm surprised they even got him to the hospital."

"You really haven't left this house the entire time?" Draco asked, "this is so not going to be good for my mental health."

"I left once," Harry said, "I had a meeting with the Minister to give my statement. He gave my my winnings."

"The thousand galleons?" Draco's eyes widened. Among all the commotion, he hadn't realized Harry had actually won the Triwizard Tournament.

"Yeah, Cedric's parents were there too, I tried—I tried to give them the money but they refused. I don't want it."

"You can put it into savings?"

Harry shook his head again, "no, I don't want it at all, I don't deserve it. I was thinking of giving it to the twins to open their joke shop."

Draco's expression softened, "I think that's a brilliant idea Harry."

Harry nodded, some of the tension easing on his face, "Dumbledore said he's having a press conference...to tell everyone Voldemort back."

"Will you have to go?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head, "they haven't said it in so many words but I reckon I'm not allowed to go anywhere anymore, and I suppose you as well by extension."

"Not even Diagon Alley?" Draco whined.

Harry shrugged.

"We're on house arrest?"

Harry shrugged again.

"You are utterly useless Harry Potter." Draco scoffed, "been here for weeks and haven't even asked the most important questions."

"Nobody really talks to me," Harry said quietly, "they're all busy dealing with the shite I caused."

"Shut the fuck up," Draco rolled his eyes, "if I'm in solitary confinement with you all summer I'm not listening to your shite about everything bad in the world being your fault. It's not."

"But—"

Draco held up his hand. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"Well, no."

"Therefore anything that happened as a direct result of that, is not your fault, that includes Voldemort—and Cedric."

"I told him to take the cup." Harry snapped. "He wouldn't have been in the graveyard if I hadn't have convinced him to take the cup with me."

Draco stared at him, blinking. "Do you not hear yourself?"

Harry gave him a look.

"No, really," Draco crossed his arms, "do you not comprehend the words that come out of your mouth?"

"Oh bugger off man."

"No." Draco refused. "Harry, you wanted to take the cup together, yes?"

"Yes, it was stupid, I know."

"If it was stupid it was stupidly noble," Draco countered. "Harry, that was a good thing, a kind thing. Not many people would've done that when faced with that glory...I know I wouldn't have. You are a good person who terrible things have happened to. It is not your fault."

Harry didn't say anything, just stared at the wall with a blank expression in his eyes.

"Cedric knew the risks." Draco continued, "people have died in the tournament before—he knew the risks and he willingly entered. He chose to take the cup with you, what happened was a terrible thing...but he made the choice Harry, you didn't get one. If it's anyones fault, besides Voldemort himself, it's the adults that failed you—that had you compete in the first place. There is no reason you should have been put in that position in the first place, you're only fourteen."

Harry's lip trembled and his eyes began to water.

He wiped at his face furiously, trying to blink away the tears.

Draco frowned and leaned over to pull Harry into a hug.

That seemed to be his breaking point because the next thing Draco heard was a loud sob.

Draco was unsure what to do. He wasn't the best at comforting people—especially Harry who never let himself cry in front of others.

"This was not your fault." Draco mumbled over and over, holding his brother as he cried.

It was not his fault.