Ch.3

"There better be a damn good reason for you to be dragging me over here," Blaise Zabini drawled once he came through the Floo network into Malfoy manor.

Blaise had been in the middle of the deep sleep of the afternoon nap when one of the family house-elves came and woke him. Still highly groggy and a tad bit annoyed, Blaise entered in on Draco, pacing from wall to wall of the living room. His blonde friend looked like a downright mess, his face showing his stress, his clothes slightly dirty, and his hair disheveled. Gray eyes snapped over to him at the sound of his voice. His eyes were rimmed with red.

He quickly approached the dark-skinned boy.

"What-"

Draco grabbed Blaise's wrist and led him out of the room and towards the main staircase. Blaise stopped in his tracks at the bottom of the steps. "Draco, what's wrong?"

Draco kept his back to him, standing on the first step, and Blaise stared as the blonde's back tensed up.

"I-" He fell quiet again as his voice seemed to fail him. He tried, again and again, to get the words out, causing Blaise's concern to grow with each passing second. Seeming to give up, Draco just raised his left arm. He didn't need to pull down his sleeve for Blaise to understand. Blaise sucked in a sharp breath.

"You were marked."

The blonde head nodded stiffly in confirmation despite it not being a question. He shrunk further into himself. Blaise pulled Draco against him in response to seeing this, and Draco immediately wrapped his arms around Blaise's middle, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

Blaise was the only one who dared to make contact with Draco like this, aside from his mother. And maybe Pansy, but she didn't count, and Draco only put up with it because the Parkinson family were close with his. All Pansy wanted to do was get in Draco's pants, and in turn, the Malfoy name and status. But Draco knew that Blaise was only doing it because he wanted to, and he thought Draco needed it. That's why Draco didn't have an issue with the contact.

They stood in that embrace for several minutes of silence, which Draco was grateful for that. He didn't need to hear that everything was going to be okay when he knew-they both knew-that that wasn't true. Nowhere near true. They would just be empty, wasted words. Draco wasn't a child that needed to be lied to either.

Blaise sighed, the noise rumbling deeply in his chest. "I wish I could do something to get you out of this."

"You wouldn't be able to without risking your neutrality," Draco mumbled.

Blaise just grunted in response and rubbed the back of Draco's neck before stepping back. "I'm assuming that wasn't the only thing you needed to tell me."

Draco tensed up again, all the relaxation that Blaise had managed to pull out of him vanishing right then. He pulled at his fingers nervously.

"Um...I found something earlier," Draco started slowly.

"Okay..."

"And I may have done something really, really stupid. Like putting both mine and my family's lives at risk kind of stupid. We could be killed because of this-"

"Draco-"

"And you were the only person who I could call that wouldn't rat me out and might listen-"

"Draco!" Blaise finally cut him off. "Calm down, and get to the point. What did you find?"

"Um," Draco groaned. "Just, come on." He grabbed Blaise's hand again and started pulling him up the stairs. This time, Blaise didn't stop him.

What could Draco have possibly found that he feared for his life? Something he was so afraid of someone ratting him out for.

As they entered the hallway Draco's bedroom was on, Blaise felt the slight tingling of magic surround him, running over his skin before disappearing. Draco had set up some charms on the hall; protection charms, he guessed. It made sense. The blonde was scared out of his mind, and that in itself would make him a bit paranoid. It was just sad that Draco had to go to such measures to feel somewhat safe in his own home.

They finally stood outside of his bedroom door. Draco glanced over at Blaise, and the other Slytherin didn't think he'd ever seen Draco like this before.

"Please, just...don't freak out," Draco warned.''

Blaise had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He was supposed to be supportive here. "Drake, I highly doubt that whatever you have will put anyone's lives at risk. Nothing that the You-Know-Who would care about anyway." Blaise smirked jokingly. "What? Are you having a secret affair with the Boy-Who-Lived and sneaking him around the manor? If that's the case, then I'd have to agree with your last statement: that would be highly stupid of you."

Blaise had meant it as a joke, trying to ease some of Draco's tenseness and lighten the mood a bit. He expected Draco to pull a disgusted face at him at the very idea of him sleeping with Potter of all people. But Draco cringed back at his words. Blaise's face went blank.

"That-That isn't it, right?"

Draco swallowed thickly and raised his wand to take down the locking and protection charms on the door. He would set them back up later. Draco swung open the door to his room and stepped to the side to allow Blaise entry instead of voicing any answers. Maybe if Draco kept to the hallway while Blaise went inside, he'd have a better chance at stopping the other boy if he chose to storm off.

Draco snorted bitterly, ignoring the confused look Blaise was giving him. As if that would work. Blaise exceeded Draco in both height and weight. If Blaise wanted to leave, he wasn't going to be stopped. Maybe through some spellwork, Draco could prevent him from leaving, but he'd rather not hex his possibly only friend; thank you very much.

Blaise hesitantly stepped into the room. Instinctively, his wand slipped into his hand, though it was still hidden by the sleeve of the robed he'd pulled on in his haste to get over here. It wasn't like he didn't trust Draco because he did. As much of an irrational prat, he was sometimes; his heart was in the right place—most of the time. Draco was acting so out of the ordinary, even for someone shaken up from receiving the Dark Mark. Blaise had heard stories of the experiences. Blaise didn't want to take any chances.

He would just chalk it up to Draco being traumatized. A lot had gone down in just one morning, it seemed. Even if he'd taken the mark willingly, the experience itself would have some kind of effect on him.

Draco's bedroom was like it always had been; extravagant, that of a pureblood heir. Everything was tidy and clean due to the work of the house-elves. Blaise would have thought it was a guest bedroom, based on the near lack of personal items or decorations. Draco's school trunk and supplies sat against one of the far walls, neat and barely noticeable.

Blaise had spent many nights in the room over the years. Lord and Lady Malfoy had given him one of the guest bedrooms to stay in whenever he came by, and though the gesture and offer were appreciated, it ultimately went untouched in favor of Draco's room.

The visits had lessened at the end of their fourth year, however. With You-Know-Who's return that year, Malfoy manor became a hotspot for the Death Eater meetings. So the usual visits moved locations to the Zabinis' Villa home. Blaise and his mother were more than happy to provide an escape for Draco when he needed it.

He glanced over his shoulder at the door. Draco stood just outside of it, slightly off to the side, peeking in. A dark eyebrow rose at him, and Blaise turned back to scan the room properly.

Dark eyes landed on the bed, spotting a human-sized lump beneath the covers. Blaise crept forward until he stood beside the person on the bed. The dark wood of his wand dug sharply into the palm of his hand as his grip tightened.

He didn't need to...it was clear the face he was looking upon. But he had to be sure.

Blaise brushed the boy's hair aside and away from his forehead, and there it was. That lightning bolt scar.

"What the fuck," he said aloud.

He didn't hear Draco finally enter the room, nor the door closing, but the blonde appeared suddenly at his side. Blaise couldn't tear his eyes away from the form on the bed.

"Where did you find him?" Blaise asked in a whisper as if scared to wake the sleeping Potter. "How..."

"I don't know, okay," Draco said. "I don't know how he could have gotten into the woods, but he did. And now he's here."

"Because you brought him here." Blaise looked at Draco questioningly. "Why? I thought you hated Potter. Unless I was right about you two sneaking around."

This time, Draco did pull a disgusted face. "Merlin, no. I wouldn't go for Potter if he were the last thing on earth. And I do hate him. Trust me. I've been evaluating my sanity for the past few hours. But..."

Draco groaned, covering his face with his hands and moving them up to grip his hair in distress. Blaise remained silent, knowing that badgering Draco would only make his emotions skyrocket and make him lash out. He was indeed like a young child sometimes when expressing his feelings or what was on his mind. He was either closed off, confident even or a total mess.

Blaise took Draco by the elbow and steered him to site on the edge of the bed, near the bottom. The bed was big enough for both of them to sit without disturbing Potter. Blaise sat next to him, his gaze going back and forth between his friend and the Gryffindor.

"Where are your parents, Drake?" Blaise asked. He didn't see them at all when he'd come through or on the way to the bedroom. Lady Malfoy would have at least come to see who had come through the Floo.

"They're at the Notts'," Draco muttered, low enough that Blaise had to lean forward to hear him properly. "They're having a meeting there." Blaise didn't have to ask who they were.

Blaise whistled lowly. "Well, you lucked out there," he chuckled. Then, he sighed. "Didn't know that Nott had already chosen aside. So quickly too."

Draco snorted. "Hardly. I almost got caught when I was carrying him in." The blonde paused. "I thought the Notts were always with the Dark Lord."

Blaise shook his head. "Mother said that during the first war, they were neutral at first. It was quite a while before they went completely with You-Know-Who." He shrugged. "I just assumed they would do a similar thing this time around, if not stay completely neutral. They hadn't said anything about it."

"I doubt you can just change sides that easily, even if it is just back to being neutral. Lord Nott is one of the marked, I think. Also, Theo barely talks in the first place; of course, you wouldn't have heard anything."

"He does when you get to know him." Blaise would have to inform his mother of the Notts' status. He asked Draco the same question as before.

"I couldn't just leave him there. Or turn him in," Draco sighed, staring off at the wall. "That would be worse, I think. You should have seen him, Blaise. Someone...someone beat the absolute shit out of him."

Both boys looked at Potter. He looked cleaned up; Draco's work, no doubt. But you could still tell that the boy had many injuries.

"Death Eaters?" Blaise asked.

"I don't think so. He'd be long dead. And we'd have heard about it."

"Potter is known for escaping the more impossible situations."

Whether those rumors of Potter's yearly adventures were trued or not (and Blaise was leaning more on the true side), Potter was a formidable foe. The Gryffindor had a fiery temper on him. That was one of the reasons why Blaise never participated in Draco and the other Slytherins' bullying.

Not that he ever paid Potter much mind, even though it was hard to avoid hearing about him constantly. Blaise simply never cared. His family was neutral, and they would remain that way.

"As...stupidly brave as this was," Blaise said, "you can't keep him here."

"I know," Draco said. "But I don't have anywhere else to take him. I can't take him on foot, and I don't want to test using magical travel while he's still healing."

Blaise nodded in understanding. It was way too easy to splinch yourself through apparation, even more so with the side-along apparation. Potter would have to be conscious for it, anyways, and he doubted the Gryffindor would be waking up anytime soon. Blaise wasn't sure about the Floo network.

"How long will it take him to heal?"

The blonde shrugged as he stood abruptly and started to pace again. From the bed to fireplace, then back again, repeating.

"Who knows," he said. "Based on how infected his wounds are, longer than the time we have right now. Hell, Potter will probably take even longer, just to spite me."

Blaise chuckled at the last remark, quickly shutting up when Draco glared at him. Draco continued. "I patched him up the best I could and was planning on keeping a close eye on them. But I don't know how long, even with my help. I've never dealt with anything like this before."

They fell into a brief silence until Blaise broke it. "And you need my help."

It wasn't a question. Blaise kept his face neutral, a perfected poker face, as Draco paused in his pacing. He bit his lip harshly.

"...I know this is a lot to ask for. This doesn't have to involve you whatsoever; I hate that I'm evening attempting to ask." He sucked in a breath, and pleading gray eyes met dark brown. "You're the only person I can trust."

Blaise didn't respond to that. Instead, he asked, "What exactly is making you want to help Potter?"

"I told you already," Draco snapped. "Someone beat the shit out of him. I couldn't just leave him." He grimaced. "Even you can admit that I'm not that cruel to do that."

"But there's more to it," Blaise insisted bluntly. "You're as Slytherin as they come, Draco. There's something else. Something you'd have to be hoping to get out of this. Something you believe is worth risking you and your parents' safety."

Draco stared at Blaise before looking away, unable to keep the hurt from flashing on his face. "Is it that hard to believe that I can do something good?" He tried to keep a joking tone in his voice, but it was wavering, and the look in his eyes said otherwise.

Blaise sighed. "You know what I mean."

Blaise did believe, deep down, that Draco had the capability of doing something good for someone else just for the hell of it, not expecting anything in return. He'd seen it in their past interactions, but that had been after the blonde learned that he couldn't achieve Blaise's friendship through the typical means he'd been taught.

Blaise understood. It was easier to conform than face whatever social consequences were dealt out for not doing so. With growing up in that way, Draco rarely did anything without a motive. That's how most pureblood children were raised.

"Are you hoping that Potter will feel like he owes you for saving him?"

Draco's gaze snapped back to him, and he swallowed thickly. Blaise had hit the mark.

"A life debt. Yes." Draco went on to continue in a hasty attempt to explain himself. "He's the chosen one. If he dies, there will be no other chance for the Dark Lord to be defeated for good. If I can maybe get him back to whoever he needs to be with, Dumbledore or the Weasleys or whatever, maybe they could help me somehow-"

Blaise stood and approached Draco while he was rambling, and the blonde jolted when hands landed on his shoulders.

"Calm down. Breath. I just need to get the whole picture."

Draco snapped his mouth shut and nodded numbly, letting Blaise's rumbling voice wash over him. The other boy sighed, and Draco found himself in his arms again, leaning against his chest. Draco ducked his head a bit to tuck his head under Blaise's chin.

"You can't keep him here."

Draco grunted. "Nowhere else to take 'im," he grumbled.

Blaise thought for a moment. "Maybe we can bring him through to floo to my home. I can talk to my mother."

"I don't want you to risk your neutrality if someone catches you," Draco stated firmly.

"No one but us will know," came the reassuring reply. "No one comes by the Villa like that, anyway."

Draco didn't respond.

"What will you do if your parents come up here?" Blaise demanded softly yet still firm. "Even I could feel those words, Draco. They aren't subtle, and they will ask questions. What will you do when You-Know-Who himself is here for one of those meetings? You can't keep Potter here."

Draco's shoulders drooped, going slack in what Blaise recognized as defeat. Blaise asked Draco if he would like to speak with his mother.

Draco shook his head. "My mother asked me not to leave the manor."

"It's not like you're not already breaking the rules," Blaise commented.

"I'm already on thin ice. Besides, I'm not sure when they'll be back, and I don't want them coming up here looking for me and find Potter."

Blaise nodded. "You're right. I'll explain everything to her as quickly as I can. We'll come up with something."

Draco gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. After setting the spells back upon the door again, he and Blaise returned to the living room. Blaise disappeared into the flames, and the manor around Draco fell into a gloomy, deafening silence. Draco stood staring at the now empty fireplace, unsure of what he was supposed to do now.

That had worked out smoothly. Too smoothly. A bubble of dread began to form tight within his chest.

What if Blaise and his mother ratted him out? Despite everything Blaise had said and done that stated otherwise. Blaise had called out 'Zabini Villa' to the floo, but what would stop him from just going over to Nott manor right after?

Draco glanced nervously around the room as if the Dark Lord would appear in a cloud of smoke in the corner. It didn't seem totally out of the realm of possibility. What if the Dark Lord had death eaters watching the manor, already creeping through it while Draco was unaware?

The idea made Draco's blood run cold, and he bolted back upstairs. Once behind his mediocre at best protections, he called Mipsey to his room. He demanded that she look through the manor for any people besides himself and, of course, the other house-elves.

Draco managed to strip out of the dirty shirt he was still wearing, and he stumbled over and sunk to the floor next to his bed. It may be Potter, but being close to someone breathing, helped a bit.

------------------------------------------

Falling asleep as he did was probably not in his best interest, considering the circumstances.

Draco blinked sluggishly, confused for a moment by the sudden darkness of the room. He reached up blindly to flick on the lamp on the nightstand, covering the room in a dusty, white glow.

The fireplace had burned out, and the night was midway fallen. Draco couldn't bring himself to panic over the fact he'd allowed himself to sleep for such a long time. His body needed it, and it had helped somewhat, feeling calmer. If you could call it 'calm.' It was better than how he had been earlier, though. His body felt as numb as his mind did. His legs felt like static from sitting in one position for so long. Draco groaned, gripping the edge of the bed for balance as blood rushed back into his legs.

Potter was still in the same position he'd been in. Once he regained functionality in his body, Draco leaned over and began unbuttoning Potter's sleep shirt. He wasn't sure how often the bandages needed to be changed, and the wounds cleaned, but Draco figured the more often, the better.

Just as he was checking the bandages for any leaks or signs of needing to be changed, there was a heavy-handed pounded at the door. Draco jumped back from the bed, nearly tripping over the end of the bedsheet, freezing where he stood and staring over at the door, heart racing. He hoped that he had misheard, that his ears were just playing tricks on him. But the knocking came again.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" The blonde began cursing aggressively under his breath. He really should have thought of a place to hide Potter should this exact situation occur. He picked up the dark-haired boy, practically yanking him from the bed. The blanket and sheets were sliding off the bed as Draco went into the bathroom. With no other place he could think of, Draco quickly placed Potter in the bathtub. Then he was at the door.

The knocking persisted, but Draco was still hesitant, trying to bring back a sense of calm, to look natural. He could do that. He was known for it.

Swallowing and wincing a bit as he realized his throat was dry, he let down the protection on the door. At this rate, he was going to drain himself just from protecting one stupid door magically.

The door opened only to reveal Blaise on the other side. Exhaling in exasperation, Draco looked around Blaise into the hallway, then pulled him inside.

"You scared the fuck out of me, you prat!" Draco hissed, shutting the door. "You could have at least announced it was you."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "I didn't want to attract your parents up here."

"Yes, because the loud banging wouldn't concern them enough," Draco said dryly. Then he went stiff. "They're home?"

"Yeah. I left my mum down there to keep them busy." Blaise looked towards the bed, then looked around the room.

"What did your mother say?" Draco asked, not noticing the shift. With the knowledge of his parents' return, anxiety set in more.

Blaise waved a dismissive hand at him. "She's going along with it, and she is down there to distract them so we can get Potter out unnoticed. Where is he, anyway?"

Oh. Right.

Blaise watched Draco's cheeks redden.

"Ah, I, um-he's in the bathtub."

Pale cheeks reddened even more under Blaise's blank stare, that dark eyebrow-raising slowly up his forehead again.

"You put him in the bathtub..?" He deadpanned.

"S-Shut up! I didn't know where else to put him," Draco stammered defensively. "And, again, I didn't know who was at the door either!"

"Whatever, come on. I don't know how long my mum can keep both your parents busy. You're mother; I'm not worried about. Your dad, however..."

That snapped Draco into action. Blaise went into the bathroom to grab Potter while Draco quickly threw on a clean shirt and pants, tripping a bit as he went out the door.

"I'll go through first," Blaise was explaining quietly as they went down the hallway towards the stairs. "You go ask your parents if you can come over, that way it gives me more time. They should be in the parlor still."

"And you'll be able to use the floor, okay?" Draco asked.

"I should be," Blaise said, adjusting Potter slightly in his arms. "Mum and I tested it ourselves when we flooed over. You're mum and dad weren't here for long before that, though."

Draco stepped ahead of them and peered around the corner. There was no one in the entrance hall. He held a hand out, signaling for Blaise to stay put. The parlor was right by the entrance hall, and the living room with the floor network was down the opposite corridor. He could hear voices coming from the parlor now that he was at the bottom of the stairs, recognizing Lady Zabini's raspier low voice and his mother's. He didn't hear a hint of his father, though he could just have nothing to say, especially since it was their mother's talking.

"Women's talk," as his father called it. Just gossip and idle chatter. The memory of him telling Draco that had him rolling his eyes. Sexism at its finest.

Draco moved back into Blaise's line of sight. He was about to give Blaise a thumbs up to come down when-

"Draco."

Draco let out a scream of fright, jumping as he whirled around to face his father, who had appeared out of nowhere. He hoped Blaise hadn't moved to come down yet. Conversation halted in the parlor, and a second later, two heads popped out.

"What's wrong?" Narcissa asked, looking worriedly between her husband and son.

"I just startled Draco by accident," the bastard said, smirking in unhidden amusement that had Draco glaring.

Yeah, you would find this funny, fucking stalker. You're worse than Severus.

"I'll send him in there in a moment," his father continued, waving the two women off.

"Alright..." his mother said, sounding unsure. She looked around. "Where's Blaise, sweetheart?" She asked Draco.

"He went off looking for you."

"Bathroom."

She hummed, nodding, then ducked back into the parlor. Draco caught Lady Zabini's eyes as she went to follow. She was a gorgeous woman; one wouldn't think she was the older one between her and his mother. She had the same dark skin shade as Blaise and slightly lighter brown eyes with a golden hue. Draco gave her a slight nod, and she smirked.

He and his father were alone again, the two women's voices picking up their previous conversation quickly. His father was staring at him, and Draco had to stop himself from shifting nervously under his gaze.

Draco, in no way, wished to be around his father right then, much less speak to him. He knew he wouldn't be getting an apology, not that he expected one.

His father's form looked intact, with no shakiness, which told Draco he had been spared from any torturing the Dark Lord may have dished out that afternoon. Draco didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed.

He guessed it was a good thing at the end of the day. He'd hate for his mother to have to see that, tho he was sure she'd witnessed worse things before. It was a dark thought, but she and his father were probably used to it at this point. Could you even truly get used to it? It seemed like a level of desensitization that should be beyond the reach of man.

His father leaned down towards him, bringing Draco out of his thoughts. He flinched back from the sudden closeness.

"Some items are missing from our medical stock," his father said, getting straight to his point. "Know anything about that?" His voice was low, Draco assumed so that they wouldn't be overheard.

"Why were you in the storerooms?" Draco asked instead of answering. It was a genuine question, at least. His father rarely went down there himself. He had the house-elves to bring him things. Draco looked up and down his father's body and raised an eyebrow, challenging. "Hurt?"

The chuckle that rang near his ear was dark and chilling. "Of course not, not that it would be any of your concern. Now," Gray eyes narrowed, "what did you take?"

"Why do you care?" Draco snapped, taking a step back. He was stopped by the feeling of a wand tip pressing against his throat suddenly.

Draco froze, eyes widening at the blatant threat. His father didn't have to voice it to get the message across. What the hell? Over their fucking medical stock? He couldn't be serious!

But he was. Oh, he definitely was. Cursing his son, he wasn't above that. He wasn't above striking him as he did; would cursing him be any different?

Draco swallowed an action that felt weird and restricted with the wand pressed against his airway.

"I fell earlier, remember?" He finally said. "I guess I scratched myself a bit, a bruise or two. I was going to take a dreamless sleep but never got around to it. You can have it back if it's that big of a deal to you."

Draco didn't have a way to explain the missing blood replenisher or the Wiggenweld potion. He just prayed to whatever higher being that it wasn't one of the ones his father had noticed gone.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there. The heat of his father's glare and wand made Draco tremble in fear. He looked like he had a curse at the tip of his tongue, ready to whip out and send the young Malfoy to the floor.

Draco was tempted to glance up the stairs to see if Blaise was still there. Was he right around the corner watching all of this go down? Or had he gone off to hide until his father was gone? But he didn't dare. He didn't want his father's attention on anyone but him.

The wand pressed further against his throat, Draco's breath hitching. Then he was released roughly, his father stepping away and putting his wand back into his robes. He sighed as if he was tired and what had just occurred hadn't happened. He sneered down at Draco.

"Times are different, Draco. It's time you learned how to not make things difficult for yourself."

Draco bristled, unable to keep the outright disbelief off his face as his father walked past him to the stairs. His fists balled up at his side, wanting to take a swing at the back of the older Malfoy's head now that his back was turned. That was when Draco noticed his father limping. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. And clearly, it hurt his father enough to have to hold onto the banister.

Draco smirked at the sight, stepping to the side to look for Blaise. His father reached the top of the stairs and turned around the other corner to his office, Draco assumed. He waited a few seconds before going up the stairs himself, two at a time. He peered down the hall to make sure his father was actually gone before looking for Blaise.

He wasn't in the hall. "Blaise!" He hissed out.

Silence. Then a door further down the hall opened, and Blaise stepped out. He came up to Draco.

"What the hell was that?!" Blaise demanded, wide-eyed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Draco lied.

"I ducked away as soon as he started coming up the stairs," Blaise whispered. "I thought-He was really going to-"

"Let's talk about this later, yeah?" Draco stated, cutting off Blaise's astonished stuttering. Draco had no intention of bringing the topic back up tho. "Come on. He could be back soon."

They went down the stairs quickly, Draco shooing Blaise off to the living room with Potter, and he went into the parlor. His mother and Lady Zabini looked up as he entered.

"Blaise?" Lady Zabini asked casually, as she did not see her sone with the blonde.

"Um..." Draco listened out, then continued in relief when he heard the roar of the floo go off. They were gone. "He said he needed to go get something from home."

"Ah." She nodded, sipping at the cup of tea in front of her. "That reminds me, Narcissa," she said. "Would you mind if I borrowed Draco for a couple days?"

His mother blinked. "Whatever for?" She asked. Draco came up to stand next to her chair.

"Blaise came upon some old books and artifacts in the attic of our Italy home-you know how much of a history fan he is," Lady Zabini chuckled. "There are quite a few things that need to be sorted through, and we could use the extra hand."

Draco raised an impressed eyebrow as to how smoothly Lady Zabini spoke, confident in her words. He straightened out his face as his mother looked over at him.

"I don't know..."

"Please, mother," Draco spoke up then, slightly pleading. "It's just for a few days, and you know Lady Zabini wouldn't let us get hurt."

"Draco will be safe at the Villa, Narcissa," Lady Zabini agreed. She reached across the table and took his mother's hand in hers. She knew Narcissa's main worries lay with the safety of her family. "Remember what I told you," she said to her friend. "No matter our stances, you can always rely on me."

His mother sighed. "And vise versa," she said. She glanced at Draco again. "I guess a few days wouldn't hurt. You and your father need some time apart, I think, anyways."

"That's putting it lightly," Draco mumbled under his breath. "Thank you, mother." He leaned down and kissed her cheek, an action she returned warmly. It wasn't every day she received willing affection from her teen son.

"I'm going to go ahead over there," he announced. "If that's alright."

Lady Zabini waved a heavily ringed hand at him. "Go on. I'll be through in a bit as well. I'm sure your mother needs her rest."

Draco nodded and didn't stay to hear his mother's light protest. He kissed her cheek again and paused once he was in the hallway, going instead back upstairs. In his bedroom, he did a quick look over for any evidence of Potter being here. He got rid of the two empty potion vials he'd left on the nightstand and put the basket of other medical supplies he had under the sink. The house-elves would be through to clean before anyone thought to search his room, he hoped.

Once satisfied, he went back downstairs to the floo. He stumbled through into the Zabini's living room and was caught by Blaise, who was standing nearby.

"Potter?" Draco asked immediately.

"Upstairs. He's fine," Blaise said, helping Draco to his feet.

Draco gave a groan of relief and sagged against Blaise. He didn't seem to mind.

"You're mother will be through in a bit," Draco told him. "She got my mother to let me stay a couple of days. Something about needing help with some books and artifacts." Draco looked at Blaise with a straightforward question in his eyes.

"Artifacts?" Blaise echoed before understanding settled on his face. He rolled his eyes. "Oh, that. They weren't artifacts. They were diaries of my great uncle. He left them behind when he was living in Italy. Trust me, those are readings you don't want to go through. I'm traumatized."

Blaise didn't elaborate, but Draco got the picture, shuddering and making fake gagging noises. "Ugh, don't tell me about it, please."

He tried to straighten up, but his limbs were sluggish to respond, feeling very drained, suddenly.

Blaise took notice of that. "Come on; you're dead on your feet. Let's get you to bed."

Draco didn't protest. He doubted he had the energy to, even if he wanted. He allowed Draco to lead him up to his bedroom. Draco succumbed to the sleep that had been beckoning him all day before they even reached the top of the stairs.