Choices of the Heart

Chapter 3

Harry sat on the steps of Malfoy Manor, staring out at the dark lawn, waiting for Draco to come out. Minister Shacklebolt had been gone only a few minutes, but it was cold outside and Harry had come away from home with no jacket. He was just about to try the door to the mansion when Draco came rushing out, slamming the door behind him.

Draco had pulled woollen trousers on over his pyjama trousers and stuck his feet into shoes, but wore no socks. He had put on a shirt and was carrying a jumper in one hand. In the other hand, he had a small suitcase, which explained what had taken him so long. Harry thought he must have packed for his parents, because it was obvious he hadn't taken the time for himself; he looked a right mess. Somehow, that made Harry like him just a little bit better.

But then Draco looked up, saw Harry waiting there and came to an abrupt halt. "Potter?" he said, taking a step back. "What...? Why are you still here?"

"I'm to take you to St Mungo's," said Harry. "Kingsley asked me to. He gave me clearance to Apparate straight in."

"So what are you now, some kind of junior Auror?"

"Apparently so," said Harry, feeling just a little bit smug.

Draco stared at him hard for a second, then sneered that very familiar sneer. "Oh, well good for you," he said, and the undertone of resentment in his voice wasn't lost on Harry.

"Are you angry with me, Malfoy?" asked Harry, a bit incredulous. "I would have thought you'd be glad I came."

"I hate that you came," said Draco, "because every time I think I'm quit of you, somehow here you are again, and now we'll owe you even more than we did." He drew a shaky breath. "I can't even Apparate by myself because my wand still thinks it belongs to you."

"Which is exactly what I told you before I gave it back!"

Draco glared. "Yeah, and you've always been right about everything, haven't you?"

Harry glared back — and felt ridiculous. What he wanted more than anything was to be home and back in bed, maybe with a cup of hot cocoa, not standing here arguing with Malfoy in the middle of the night. "Let's just go," he said, still annoyed, but trying hard to rein it in. "You can shout at me about being right some other time. When your parents are not in hospital."

"Fine," said Draco, and Harry heard an odd quiver in his voice. Draco took a few steps closer to Harry, and the emotion Harry saw in his eyes was no longer anger, but panic. Then, without warning, Draco seemed to crumble, the terror and shock of the night's events finally catching up to him.

Reflex-quick, without thinking, Harry stepped forward and caught Draco before he went down. His arms went around Draco, pulling him hard against himself, supporting his weight. Draco leaned into him, his jumper and the case still clutched in his hands at his sides, and Harry felt him shivering. "All right, Malfoy?" he asked, honestly concerned.

"What if... what if she's dead," whispered Draco, his mouth by Harry's ear. "I don't want to go.... I don't want to find out she's... dead...."

Harry took a deep breath. That might have been the most honest thing Draco Malfoy had ever said to him and his hands slid up to hold Draco more gently. "I'm coming with you," he said, all of his former irritation forgotten. And then knowing he was probably giving up any chance of hot cocoa and bed tonight, he added, "And I'll stay if you like. So you won't be alone."

He felt Draco nod and gulp in a breath. Draco's arms came up around Harry, the suitcase bumping against the back of Harry's legs; his other hand, still clutching the jumper, pressed into the middle of Harry's back.

It was a second or two before Draco spoke. "Okay," he said, finally. "Go."

Concentrating hard on his two-year old memory of the hospital's reception area, Harry turned on the spot and Disapparated them both to St Mungo's.