Scared Potter? (Drarry fanfiction)

Chapter 22 - Treasure

The chances of finding Draco wandering through the Dungeons appeared to be small, and since his faithful companion wasn't at his side, it caused even more suspense about his presence in Hogwarts. Could there be a possibility of him being gone already? Did he make his leave without telling anyone? It was hard to say so: his father being a true ass, and way to vulnerable for anyone's opinion. Lucius Malfoy was a man of honour, it would be most awkward if anyone knew about his son's bad business – especially since Harry knew more of it. Though Harry would hardly claim himself as a gay person, he couldn't call himself bisexual either. Never did love occur in his life: unless his failing love for Cho, ending into heartbreak and misunderstandings. They were just friends now: if just because he couldn't afford love. Not during his circumstances. Cho was a wonderful girl, most truly, but too vulnerable. Harry would experience more death, grieve and pain during the trails of his life, and Cho couldn't be a part of it. Not even if he really wanted to. Besides, as said, it was all over now. And for all Harry knew, he was a desperate fellow in need of sexual business – no feelings applied. However, what it was with Draco, he had no clue. Draco had been the one to kiss him, multiple times, and showed his frustrations in a strange way. It caused Harry off guard, and served him sleepless nights with endless rows of questions: unanswered still.

After having about an hour spend in his dorms, reading the advanced potion book to be at least a bit of productive, he decided to go on for a run again. Hermione and Ron were still out of sight. His fellow Gryffindors were scattered around the castle, reading, chatting, laughing and whatnot – but no piece for him. Not only did the found it hard to play of joy – knowing his two best friends were nacking on the other side of the door – but also was his head filled with questions. Where was Draco? Why did he have to leave? What was going on between them? His textbook remained resting under his elbow – his head leaning into his palm. He was daydreaming. There was nothing to put him to his homework right now. He sighed deeply, slamming the book close with great effort as he got up from his chair. There was one small opportunity of finding Draco, if he was still around. And that would be the room of requirements, where he could remain hidden and undisturbed. Great exhaustion hit him as he made his first steps. Seamus waved at him, showing his care as he stumbled; yet Harry waved it away. Smiling gratefully, he made his way towards the door. His feet were heavy – almost swollen it seemed, and for a moment he considered going to sleep already. After a slow turn, scanning the common room, seeing all those pretty faces having fun, he decided not to go to bed just yet. Not because he was afraid he would be held awake by the noise, but also because he wanted to find the same joy as they did. Wondering where his "former" friends would be, he made his leave.

He didn't need to go far. The entrance to the room of Requirements was located at the left corridor. Walking closer, he did his former ritual, and the door opened in a flash – as if it was open already. Harry could hear a radio play as he got in. Music echoed among the endless piles of stuff. Someone had to be in here, and when Harry thought of the one thing (or more like person) he thought of Draco, and what happened the other day. Harry flinched as a crowd of woodpeckers rushed through the air – almost attacking him on the head – and he grasped for a vase he almost knocked over doing so. This place was a mess full of forgotten and hidden stuff. Filled with treasures. And Harry searched for his own lost treasure. "Malfoy," he called as he wandered through the "halls" of junk – his voice still low, as if he had to stay quiet in case anyone else peeked around. Maybe, if Malfoy was around, he wasn't alone. Who knew about his business here? Though the music appeared to come closer, a genre containing dramatic piano riffs and crying breaths of violin (something not to Harry's taste), he still couldn't find the source. "Malfoy," he hissed through his teeth, almost annoyed now – his head spinning by nervousness and headache caused by the terrible taste of music. "Where the fuck are you, man?"

The music stopped. Harry flinched at the sudden silence, and put his senses to work – scanning for a sound. "Potter."

It was obvious. Draco appeared from behind a corner, and seemed to be pretty beaten up. Harry cocked his head, surprised by his finding, and raised his brows – his question stuck to the back of his tongue.

"What happened to you?"

Draco batted his eyes, holding his arm as if he was afraid it was about to fall off. He shrugged, his lips pressed into a sour line – as if his mommy told him he couldn't get another cookie right before dinner. "Dude, tell me. What happened to you?"

Draco stood there, standing with a black eye and a chipped lower lip. Strange, how it appalled him – knowing he wasn't the cause of it. "Come on, tell me." His voice became raw. "Was it your dad?"

"Don't pretend like you care," Draco snarled. "You know how he is. You were right."

"About what?"

Draco didn't answer. He simply flicked his tongue across his front teeth, and stared at his feet. It was obvious he was ashamed for his bruises. His father beat him to shit, and Harry wondered if this was the actual first time. "That's sick," Harry continued, scratching the back of his head. He expected Lucius to be a difficult father, but not like this. He always presumed him as a coward, and his mother as overly protective. Basically, he thought they were just a couple of spoiled brats. Draco in particular. And there he stood; the blonde, skinny Slytherin student – comparable to a smashed potato.