'Get away from him,' said a sharp voice, cold and irritable, cutting through the gray fog in Harry's brain. 'Right now.'
Harry opened his eyes (he hadn't even realized they were closed, but they were) in time to see Rhysenn take a step back and turn around, her dark braids swinging. 'Oh dear,' she exclaimed, sounding like a little girl deprived of a birthday treat. 'Draco.'
Harry dragged his gaze up and away from Rhysenn. He was not surprised at all to see Draco standing a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, looking very annoyed indeed. His light gray eyes were fixed on Rhysenn.
'Honestly,' he said. 'Have you no shame?'
She smiled. 'Are you jealous?'
'No,' he said shortly. 'Just short on patience.'
'I was only having a little fun,' Rhysenn said cheerfully, flouncing towards Draco with her skirt swinging. This was a great relief to Harry, who found her continued proximity unnerving at best. 'I was looking for you. I wanted to thank you. You saved my life.'
Draco gave her an irritated look. 'It was a reflex,' he said. 'Anyway, I thought you were immortal.'
'I am, but I can bleed. I can feel pain. I can feel a lot of things.'
I bet she can, Harry thought irritably.
Yeah, and you were really fighting her off, Potter, Draco muttered back.
You shut up and let me deal with this.
Rhysenn's dark eyes narrowed. 'Are you two…talking in your heads? I heard you could do that, but I never thought — '
'Who told you that?' Draco snapped, looking suddenly fierce.
'It's not true,' Harry interjected — his voice came out on a gasp, but at least the dizziness in his head was fading.
Draco shot him a look, and then returned his gaze to Rhysenn. 'Why did you follow us here, Rhysenn?' he demanded. 'Did you get bored standing around in your little cage? Voldemort not pushing enough food pellets through the bars?'
The bright color in Rhysenn's cheeks vanished. 'What did you say?'
'You heard me.' Draco began to walk down the steps, and Rhysenn almost took a step back before she seemed to recollect herself. 'Call me crazy, but I think if you had a little wheel installed so you could run around in there, you wouldn't be so driven to chase teenage boys around the British Isles. You could work off some of that excess energy.'
The color had come back to her face in a flood. 'That cage does not hold me,' she hissed, his voice a flat whisper.
'I notice you don't deny you work for Voldemort,' said Draco coldly. His eyes were chips of gray ice. He looked, Harry thought, rather like his father. 'Want to tell us a little about that?'
'Who has told you these things?' she demanded. 'Where did you learn them?'
Draco shook his head. 'I'd tell you that, see, but I really don't want to.'
Rhysenn's fingers curved into claws. 'You stupid boy,' she snapped. 'The Dark Lord will destroy you, and whatever minion betrayed him to you!'
'In that case, I'll just tell him it was you, shall I?' Draco suggested equably. He cocked an eyebrow, and glanced up at the lightening sky.
'The sun's coming up,' he added, his voice deceptively soft. 'Shouldn't you…'
With a scream of rage and whirl of black hair, Rhysenn disappeared, vanishing without even the soft * pop * that usually accompanied a Disapparation.
Draco stood where he was, staring at the spot where she had disappeared.
There were no marks in the snow where her footprints should have been; it was easier to see that now, in the gathering light. The advent of the rising sun striped the far horizon with bars of rose and gold, sparkling over the icicles, over Draco's icy-colored hair.
'Hey,' said Harry uneasily. Draco's set expression was unsettling, to say the least. 'Malfoy… thanks.'
'Thanks?' Draco jerked his head up and looked at Harry as if he were the most pitiful thing he had seen in a lifetime of pitiful things. 'What was that? I never picked you for the easily-swayed-by-feminine-wiles type.'
'I'm not,' Harry replied. He wished he could be a bit more eloquent, but he was having trouble catching his breath. There was also a strange, whirling feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if he'd just been dropped from a great height.
Draco rolled his eyes. 'If I hadn't come back…'
Harry's stomach lurched. 'I had it under control,' he gasped.
'Oh, yes, that's what it looked like. Hey, with some luck, you could have drowned her in drool.'
Harry's stomach lurched again, this time as if it were trying to turn itself inside out. He took a few staggering steps, nearly crashed into a tombstone, fell to his knees, and was violently and thoroughly sick on the grass. His body shook. He'd only been this sick once before, after drinking too much. Waves of nausea coursed over him, almost painful in their intensity. Finally they subsided, and he sat back on his heels, gasping in air.
'Hey.' It was Draco's voice, much gentler now. Hands closed around Harry's upper arms, helping him up to his feet. 'Harry…what happened?'
Harry shook his head. 'I think…I need…some water.'
Quickly, Draco produced his bottle of overpriced water from a coat pocket, and handed it to Harry. Harry drank most of it, then splashed the rest on his face and hands. It helped: his mind was starting to clear, and the world was coming back into focus.
'Can you stand up on your own?' Draco asked.
Harry nodded, rubbed a sleeve across his damp face. 'I'm all right,' he said. 'Must have been all that jouncing around on the Knight Bus.'
Draco released his hold on Harry's arm, looking thoughtful. 'I don't think so. I think it was something to do with Rhysenn.'
Harry laughed shakily. 'I don't think she'd be too happy to hear that.'
'Well, she seems to have a hell of an effect on you. I thought you were going to keel over and pass out before.'
'I was trying to push her away,' Harry said.
'Yeah,' said Draco. 'Maybe you were.'
'I tried,' Harry said again. 'I tried, and I just couldn't. I wanted to, but…'
'Hey, you know, it happens to every guy,' said Draco with mock sympathy.
Harry choked. 'Oh, shut up, Malfoy.'
Draco chuckled. 'We should get out of here,' he said. 'The sky's getting light.'
'All right,' Harry said, and took a step towards him. Then he paused. 'My gloves — and the bracelet. I left them back at the — back where we were.'
Draco took hold of the back of Harry's jacket, steering while they walked back to the Potters' graves. Harry didn't mind the mild guidance; he was still a little shaky on his feet. 'Bracelet?' Draco echoed.
'My runic band — I wear it on my belt. For good luck.'
'Oh, right. That red band. Why'd you take it off?'
'No reason,' Harry said shortly, stopping to pick the bracelet and his gloves up. Draco didn't press him, as Harry knew he wouldn't. He stood quietly as Harry gave the headstones one last look. Then he took the box containing the Portkey out of his pocket, and opened it. The Portkey glimmered silver in the morning light, for it was now full morning. He turned to Draco.
'Hold on to me,' he said, and tipped the Portkey into his hand. The world upended itself, and then he was whirling away, shooting through a gray fog, Draco's hand knotted tightly into the back of his jacket.
