The Phoenix Follies: All Around Me Are Familiar Faces

His eyes had opened without preamble and suddenly, he was gone. There was no pain, no confusion; he was only aware again. And he was angry again, but he kept it back. At least, he did until he had escaped the house and started into the dark gardens. His eyes took in the landscape, wanting some idea of where they were. Really, Snape…How cliché is living on the moors?

He wasn't sure what he would be do now. Moodily, he kicked at the ground, spattering dirt about. Well, perhaps it was time he did it himself. But first…

His anger began to rip the plants around him, flower petals and leaves flying about violently. Soil rocketed away from him in thick clods as if running from death itself.

He was going to get that fucking bastard for taking advantage of his weakness.

Draco was hungry, but he couldn't force himself to leave his bedroom. Sitting on the bed, he was reminded of the sleeping boy once more. An image entered his mind; Harry's arched body, screaming in pain…

Draco growled at himself.

"I refuse to obsess over Harry Potter," he muttered vehemently. "I am Draco Malfoy and Malfoys do not obsess."

Nodding to himself, he set his head on his palm and look out the window. When would the other boy wake up?

The wolf's sense of smell was quite a bit more heightened than Rylia's. The Verifel felt useless, trailing behind Remus. Beside her, Snape seemed the same. Every few moments, Remus would pause for another whiff of air before continuing on.

Then, he stopped. They were in the garden. The plants were torn apart. Remus looked around worriedly.

"Harry did this," he murmured in a lost tone, wringing his hands. "He's… so angry…"

"I can smell it," Rylia whispered. Her ears flattened. "It's so strong here…"

"He may be disoriented," said Snape quietly. "We must find him quickly."

There he was. His lips pulled back into a snarl as he thought about the bastard's manipulations. He wasn't a fool, after all. He knew exactly what the other had wanted from him. Now, he wanted nothing more than to rip the son of a bitch to pieces. Already, the wallpaper was beginning to curl with his anger, that red hot feeling coursing through his entire body. There was nothing that could stop him now. Nothing. Just like before. There was nothing to stand in his way.

The other didn't even notice when he entered the room; not until the door was slammed shut, at least. Then, the blond head jerked up and gray eyes stared at him in surprise. He resisted the urge to grin wickedly. This would be very enjoyable.

"Harry…"

Green eyes filled with hate at being addressed so intimately.

"Hello, Malfoy." His voice sounded dead even to him.

Draco stared at the change. The black haired boy's face was dark and angry, as if a storm resided under the pale flesh. Even the scar on his forehead looked angry, a shining silver bolt framed in long, black hair. But those eyes…Those emerald eyes were the worst of it all. Draco could see the vile intentions behind them, as he had seen so often in his father's gray depths.

"Harry-"

The other boy threw up a hand to silence him and Draco was surprised when he obeyed.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry hissed. "I don't want to hear your voice."

After a pause, the green eyed boy approached the bed. Draco watched him without moving. It seemed the boy would attack and kill him if he moved at all. By the way Harry's magic was saturating the entire room, he was sure he didn't stand a chance. Harry glared at him harshly and his fists clinched tight at his sides.

"You bastard," the boy finally choked out, voice enraged. He leaned over Draco, bracing himself on one arm as he climbed up over him. Draco noted the movements in silence. Almost nose to nose, Harry's lip lifted in a snarl. "Thought you could get me when I was weak, didn't you? When I didn't know to look out for you?"

The voice was dripping with dangerous intent. Draco didn't know what to do to ensure his safety. The boy was going to kill him, one way or another.

"I bet you fucking laughed," he continued quietly. The blond opened his mouth to speak but a surprisingly strong hand whipped out and struck him across the face. "Don't you DARE talk to me! I'm not finished, damn it!"

'He's insane,' Draco thought dazedly. The hit had rattled his brain a bit and made him dizzy. How could such a thin, fragile looking person have so much strength? 'He's gone off the deep end…'

Pain streaked over his scalp as Harry grabbed a tight handhold of hair and pulled Draco's head back painfully. He opened silver eyes to meet emerald, body unresponsive with fear.

"Fucking bastard," Harry snarled. "No one will ever hurt me again, got it? No one! I'm sick of this! People trying to manipulate me the littlest they can! Vernon! Dumbledore! And now YOU! I thought…I thought.."

Draco watched the change from insane rage to all encompassing sorrow. Harry's shoulders shook with more than just pain and anger. His eyes dulled from the vivid green to almost black. The grip on his hair slackened.

"I thought…you had some class.." Harry looked away for a moment before glaring at the other boy again, but his anger was only a mask. "I never thought you'd go so far to beat me!"

"Would you just shut the hell up a moment, Potter?" Draco growled out. Now that the fire was gone in the other's heart, Draco easily pulled his hair free but didn't push the other away. "I wasn't trying to manipulate you."

"Like hell!" The fragile boy was quickly losing himself, dull eyes shining. Even in the throws of one of his fits, Draco had never seen him look so broken. "There's no way you'd ever touch me without wanting to hurt me. You fucking hate me…"

"Damn it, Potter! I don't hate you!" Draco sighed and looked out the window, brows tight between his eyes. "I used to. Disliked you, yes. You spurned my friendship. But that stopped a long time ago. I need you, Potter. You're my…rival. You make me challenge myself. I have to be better than you, stronger, smarter…"

"I put your father in Azkaban," whispered Harry. The blond boy turned as the other sat back on his heels, legs straddling his midsection. His head had fallen limply on his chest, hands laying on the comforter. "I killed your parents. I got the clipping in the Prophet…It's in my journal…I highlighted it…"

"Why?" the blond murmured. Harry's shoulders shrugged.

"I recorded everyone that died…"

"You're guilty?"

"It's my fault."

The words were choked out a moment before a droplet fell and soaked into Draco's shirt. Another followed, and then another and another. Gently, the blond touched the green eyed boy's chin before pushing his head up to see. Tears fell freely from those broken green eyes. Draco was amazed at the transformation from hate to sorrow. Without another thought, he pulled the boy into his arms tightly. Harry's body shook with every breath, but he made not a sound. Draco could feel the tears soaking into his shoulder.

"He should have killed me…"

"Voldemort?" asked the larger boy quietly. There was a slight nod before Harry buried his face in Draco's shirt.

"He had the wand…he said the spell…" The boy's words were fragmented and slow. "He said the spell…but I'm still alive…and more people died that day…more people…I have to add them to the journal…I have to remember them…I…It's my fault…"

Harry froze suddenly. Draco was about to ask him what was the matter when the black haired boy viciously shoved him away and jumped from the bed. His eyes were wild and dark, and his magic began to stream copiously from him once more.

"Don't! Don't you dare!" cried the boy frantically, backing up to the other wall. "I won't fall for it again! Not now! I know you! I fucking KNOW you! Not again, damn it!"

"Harry, calm down!" Draco slowly slipped off the bed and lifted his hands, unarmed. "I won't hurt you, Harry, just-"

"STOP CALLING ME HARRY!"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. The ceiling over their heads was cracking and the wall paper peeling back, as if running from Harry's lithe frame. The boy was shaking, his hands tightly holding his own arms tight enough to break his own skin.

And at that second, that most worst of seconds, the door swung open to slam at the wall. Everything happening in that next second. Rylia ducked past and sprinted towards her ward with worry. Remus and Severus dashed inside the room with dual cries of the boy's name. Ron rushed after them and completed the picture. And then, with eyes like a cornered animal, Harry screamed.

The sheer power of the boy's magic flung Rylia back into her master and both went tumbling. Remus lasted a moment longer, but still went skidding back. Ron didn't even make it all the way into the room before he was slammed back into the frame and on through the hallway. Draco hit the wall and slumped.

The scream died. Harry collapsed into a boneless heap.

Seconds, minutes, perhaps hours later, Snape pulled his body to sit up. The house was still and quiet. The Potions Master checked Rylia, happy to find her alive. The others were only unconscious as well and there were no major injuries. Then, he approached the other boy.

Harry was motionless. There was no pull of magic at all. It was as if he had used everything he had. Snape knelt by the boy and checked him over. Like the others, no injuries. Gently, he turned the boy onto his back and stared at his pale face. There were tear marks down his cheeks. With a heavy sigh, Snape got up and started cleaning up.