A/N: Alright, so I had a huuuuuge desire to write a ton for this story...but I didn't get too far...only one chapter more. Still, you're welcome to it...sorry to my other fans, eagerly awaiting 30 Ways to Piss Off Dobby...I'm stuck on that one. I still say finals should be illegal. xP Anyways, don't kill me yet? Will it pacify you to hear that I have some more humor and another story in the works? (Here's a hint: it's a Harry Potter fanfic titled "The Son of Mine Enemy". Five points to your House of choice if you can guess what kind of fanfic it is. :) Refavoment!
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“Come on, Harry, you’ve got to eat more than that,” Hermione urged him. “You just escaped Pomfrey’s clutches two days ago!”
Harry grimaced, poking at the food on his plate. The food did not look appetizing at all, with the grease just oozing from the meat, and the butter glistening on the potato. “I’m not hungry,” he complained. “I just haven’t had much of an appetite lately!”
“You’ve never had much of an appetite, mate,” Ron butted in unhelpfully. Draco, who had moved with Pansy and Blaise to sit with the Gryffindors at mealtimes after receiving a few threats and hostile glares from his own Housemates, watched the proceedings with silent curiosity, and exchanged a confused glance with Pansy and Blaise.
“If he’s not hungry, maybe you should just let him be?” Pansy offered, sparing Draco the withering look Hermione shot her.
“It’s not healthy! He eats less than I do, and I’m a girl!” Hermione huffed.
“Thank you for cluing us in as to your gender,” Draco said dryly, while Ron held in a snort. Hermione’s lips twitched, but she kept her stern look up.
“I’m serious. Harry, you can’t only eat that much!”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll eat. Now stop pestering me?” he grumbled, taking a wad of potatoes and shoving it in his mouth. “Happy?”
Hermione wrinkled her nose at his food-filled smirk, but nodded. “There you go. Keep eating.”
Soon enough, the matter of Harry eating was left behind, as the six chatted amicably, the Gryffindors ignoring the strange looks given them, and the Slytherins ignoring the glares from their House. As they stood to leave, Harry moved off.
“I have to use the loo…I’ll meet you guys by the Room?” he asked, already moving away quickly. Draco’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded, keeping his expression neutral.
“See you there!”
When he was sure Harry was far enough ahead, Draco turned to the others. “Actually, I have to use the loo as well. I’ll meet up with Harry and we’ll see you four by the Room.” Ron and Hermione waved him off, as he took off after his Inima.
He remained far enough back as Harry made his way through the corridors, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Harry wasn’t heading for the boys’ room. As the familiar, messy black mop disappeared through the door, Draco frowned. It was never a good thing when Harry went into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.
He quietly entered the bathroom, keeping the door from slamming shut, just as a loud retching sound startled him. Draco’s eyes shot up to see Moaning Myrtle, just as she floated out of a stall, glee on her features. “Oh, even more company,” she said with delight, as Draco frantically waved for her to be quiet. He whirled around, as the retching stopped, and the toilet flushed.
Harry appeared, dismayed to see Draco standing there in shock. “Look, I can explain…I wasn’t feeling well,” he tried weakly. His dismay deepened, and fear ran through him as shock changed to anger on Draco’s face. The blonde strode over to Harry, and firmly gripped his arm as Harry attempted to back away. The grip was gentle, however, but the glare was not.
“Why were you throwing up, Harry?” Draco asked in an eerily calm voice.
Harry tried for defiance. “Why should I tell you? Does it matter? Why do you care?” he argued.
He instantly regretted his harsh tone, for hurt flickered in Draco’s eyes, before it was covered up. “One, I am your Inima, and Inimae tell each other things. Two, it matters very much so, especially since this could have devastating impacts on your health. And three, you had better tell me before I hex it out of you!”
Harry wouldn’t meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Oh, I think there is. Were you forcing yourself to throw up?”
Harry’s silence told Draco that his guess was correct. “Why, Harry? Why would you make yourself throw up? You’re already too thin as it is!”
“No, I’m not! I’m fat…I don’t want to be fat…”
“Harry, that is the most ridiculous-”
“I don’t want to be fat like him!”
In an instant, Draco understood. Harry had seen the way his uncle gorged himself, and had come to the conclusion that food made one fat, and that by becoming fat, he would become his uncle. Instead of saying anything, as he had planned to, Draco simply surprised Harry by drawing him into a soothing hug.
“Why are you not lecturing me, like Hermione would?” Harry whispered, burying his face into Draco’s chest.
Draco sighed. “It wouldn’t convince you anymore than you want to be convinced,” he said. “But, Harry, listen to me.” He held Harry at arms’ length, keeping a steady gaze on Harry. “You are not fat. Far from it. In fact, you are dangerously thin. And even if you had more weight on you, it wouldn’t change the fact that you are kind, brave, and caring Harry, and my Inima. You aren’t him, and you never will be. Didn’t you once tell me that it wasn’t my fault? When I was…summoned? I tell you the same thing now. What happened in the past, happened, and you can’t change that. But you can let it go. He will never touch you again, and you will never become like him. You can’t. It isn’t in your nature.”
Harry’s eyes glistened. “I know what you’re saying makes sense but…I can’t help starving myself. I just can’t. I have this fear…this fear that one day I’ll eat too much, and wake up the next day not able to move. I just want to be me, and not have him always haunting me...and even if I don’t look like him, I won’t exactly by eye-catching enough for you. What if I get too fat for you?”
Draco snorted. “You could never get fat enough to make me leave. We’re Inimae, Harry. Inimae don’t leave each other over such petty things.”
Harry was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know if I can stop…I’m so used to eating so little…and throwing up whatever extra I didn’t need.”
“Let me help you.” Green eyes met smoldering silver ones, as Draco cupped Harry’s chin in his hand. “I’ll help you win this battle…just like you helped me win mine.” Harry nodded, and Draco kissed his forehead gently. “Now, let’s go meet our friends, okay?”
“Draco?”
“Hm?”
“You can’t tell them…” Harry’s eyes were pleading.
“You know I would never. But promise me this, Harry. Tell me these things, okay? I want to help you with the past, but I can’t if you don’t tell me…”
“Only if you tell me about whatever struggles you have…”
“Deal.”
~ + ~
Hermione was beaming when Draco and Harry walked up. “I know what and where the second one is,” she whispered excitedly to Harry, who glanced over at Pansy and Blaise. They seemed to understand, and made some excuse about grabbing something from their common room and returning in a few minutes. As soon as they’d left, Hermione began to talk in a low voice.
“I couldn’t help wondering aloud what each of the treasures of the Founders were. I knew Slytherin had his locket, Gryffindor had his sword, Hufflepuff had her cup, but what did Ravenclaw have?”
Ron spoke up, his own excitement mirroring Hermione’s. “Then Pansy said, ‘You forgot Ravenclaw’s diadem’.”
“A diadem is a crown,” Hermione interrupted. “And when Pansy said that, I suddenly got this feeling: I know where it is!”
Draco could feel Harry’s overwhelming relief and excitement. “Where?” he asked, his green eyes practically glowing. Draco was glad the incident in the bathroom had been forgotten for now. He’d have to remember to get some food from the kitchens later.
“The Room of Requirement.”
Draco frowned. “I don’t remember ever seeing it there…”
“Harry, remember when you first told us about the…” She looked around furtively. “you-know-whats? There was that bookshelf in the corner? There was an old statue next to it, with some crown-like thing on its head. I think that was the diadem!”
Harry’s eyes widened. “It was there the whole time?” he asked incredulously. “We’ve got to get it and destroy it then!”
“And I think I know what the next you-know-what is,” Ron said suddenly. They all turned to look at him, startled. Ron flushed, but kept going. “Voldemort knows that having all of his…pieces separated leaves them rather vulnerable, right? Well, wouldn’t it make sense to have at least one of them close by, always within defendable distance?”
“Yeah,” Harry murmured, his brain whirling.
“What does Voldemort have that’s always with him?”
“His wand?” Harry asked. Hermione was stumped too, for once.
“Death Eaters?”
“Nagini.” Now it was Draco’s turn to be ogled by Harry and Hermione.
“Nagini,” Ron agreed. “Makes sense, right?”
“It does, actually,” Hermione murmured. “And that makes our task more difficult…how are we going to destroy Nagini?”
“First things first. The diadem needs to go,” Harry said firmly. Draco was amazed at the determination that just flowed off Harry, as he paced back and forth in front of the tapestry.
“Keep watch for Blaise and Pansy, and knock four times when you guys want in,” Harry instructed Ron, as he, Draco, and Hermione entered the Room.
Draco felt a sense of déjà vu as he entered the Room. It seemed like it was just yesterday that Harry was telling them about the Horcruxes. To know that there was one possibly in this very room…it was a strange thrill.
“There it is.” Harry’s voice was solemn, as he strode over to the statue, the likeness of whom could only be Rowena Ravenclaw. He held back from touching it, however, wary of another attack. He grimaced, then muttered, “Hang it all,” before suddenly grabbing onto the diadem.
Both Hermione and Draco had lurched forward to help him, when they realized that nothing had happened. Harry had squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of pain, and was holding the diadem at arms length. Now, he relaxed a little, and held on to the diadem with both hands. “This is scarily easy,” he muttered. “Anyone have a basilisk fang?”
“No, but I have Gryffindor’s sword,” Hermione offered. At Harry’s incredulous look, she shrugged. “I asked Dumbledore if I could borrow it for a while before we left. He just smiled mysteriously, but handed it to me without asking questions. I’d forgotten I’d had it.” With a chuckle, she reached into her pocket, and pulled out a tiny object, which she quickly enlarged to prove the sword’s existence. “I’m glad I’ve made a habit of carrying it around.”
Harry just laughed at Hermione’s insightfulness, taking the sword from her, before setting the diadem on the ground. “Here goes nothing,” he sighed, before plunging the blade downward. There was a sharp crack, and a slight explosion of air that sent the three flying backwards into the walls.
“Warn us next time?” Draco groaned, picking himself up gingerly. “These walls aren’t padded.”
“Did it work?” Hermione asked, ignoring Draco. Harry picked up the diadem, pausing for a moment, before nodding.
“It worked,” he said disbelievingly. “That was far too easy…”
“Or maybe it was one of Voldemort’s first…maybe he didn’t take precautions until later?” Hermione suggested.
“Or maybe he never expected us to find it here,” Draco offered. Harry shrugged.
“Well, we did. And now we only have Nagini and the last Horcrux.”
They grinned at each other for a moment, then looked up as Ron’s knock sounded four times. Hermione hid the diadem, as Draco let Blaise, Pansy, and Ron in. No more was said on the topic of Horcruxes for the rest of the night, nor for the rest of the week.