How Are You, Really? (Drarry)

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Mirror of Erised

            Harry heard Draco get up quietly and leave the room. Glancing at the watch the Weasley's had given him for his seventeenth birthday, which was softly illuminated by some magic, he found it was half-past midnight. Groaning, Harry stood and threw the invisibility cloak over himself. If he hadn't promised Ron, he wouldn't be doing this.

But a small voice in the back of his head insisted he was still curious. It had seemed off that Draco had taken to pacing the hallways yet hadn't been caught. As silently as he could, Harry followed Draco down the staircase and out of the portrait hole, which stayed open on its own for just an extra moment.

This time the man seemed to have a location in mind tonight as his footsteps didn't falter. By the time they reached the seventh floor, adrenaline was pumping through Harry. Instinctually he knew where they were going. Draco's footsteps didn't falter, yet Harry's mind was thrown into the past, back to sixth year when Death Eaters erupted out of the doors, and to several months ago, when the cursed fire nearly killed them, almost killed Draco. Was the room even still there?

Harry stood back, watching Draco pace three times in front of the wall, muttering to himself. A door suddenly materialized, and Draco entered, leaving it propped open just enough for Harry to slip through. He silently closed the door behind him, not wanting any company.

They were in a study, the walls lined with shelves of books. A large desk sat in the middle of the room, and behind it hung... the Mirror of Erised. Draco sat in the desk chair, turning it around to stare into the mirror's depths.

Harry stood to the side, watching Draco, sure he was going to do something, anything else. But he didn't. He sat there, staring into the mirror until his shoulders started to shake and he hunched in on himself.

"Why are you here, Harry?"

Harry yelled in surprise, the cloak slipping off his head.

"How long have you known I was here?" Harry asked dumbly.

"Since the beginning."

The extra moment of time in the portrait hole and the propped open door suddenly made a lot more sense.

"Oh."

"So, why are you here?" Draco asked, wiping his eyes and turning to look at the other man's floating head.

"Well, I just... Ron... you see," Harry stuttered.

Draco frowned, his eyes sad. "You still don't trust me, do you."

It wasn't a question but a statement.

"That's not true – I trust -,"

"Then, why are you here?" Draco snapped. He looked close to tears again.

"I was curious," Harry mumbled, finding that there was truth in his words. He was curious about the man sitting in front of him.

Draco laughed harshly. "Curious. What a Gryffindor thing to say. Curious about someone else's life and their secrets."

"What do you see?" Harry asked, trying to change the topic.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Draco snapped angrily.

"I would," Harry whispered, moving closer to the desk. He took off the cloak and draped it over his arm.

"Well, that's private."

"Why were you crying?"

"That's private too," Draco murmured, turning away from Harry and back to the mirror. After a moment, he added, "I found this mirror sixth year. I came here every day, in between all my efforts to fix the cabinet. Although most of the time, I only half-heartedly worked on the cabinet. But this mirror – I came every day to visit."

"People have gone mad looking into it," Harry whispered. "You know what it does, right?"

"Of course, Harry," Draco scoffed. "It shows me the thing I want most in the world. The thing I crave above all else."

Harry stepped closer until he was standing next to Draco. They both stared into the mirror. Harry frowned. "Something's wrong, all I see is our reflection."

Draco was silent for a heartbeat and then agreed. "Yea, something must be wrong with it. There's no way that's right." Sadness laced his words again.

Harry turned to him, feeling the need to clarify something. "I do trust you, Draco. I promise."

Draco smiled a small smile, nothing more than a quick upturn of his mouth before it was gone. "You mean that, Potter?"

Harry nodded. "I thought we were beyond last names."

Draco smirked, looking much more like his usual self. "Some habits die hard."

Harry took in the room. "Where are we?"

"My safe haven."

"You come here often?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. "Almost every night. I can't study in the library, so this has become my spot. It has every book I need, and no one is here to hex me."

Harry frowned. He hated how often Draco was still attacked, even with Harry's obvious friendship with him. "If you studied with us..."

"No, it wouldn't work, trust me. Even the Golden Boy can't protect me all the time. It's better if I just come here to study."

"But why the middle of the night?"

Draco shrugged. "Can't sleep, remember?"

"Oh, yea..."

Draco pulled his backpack out of his pocket and placed it on the desk before growing it back to its normal size. "If you don't mind, Harry, I have a lot of work to do."

Surprising himself, Harry asked, "Can I stay?"

Draco blinked at him. "I guess. The armchair in the corner over there is the comfiest one in the room."

Harry nodded. The two fell into a comfortable silence as Draco studied, and Harry read a potion's book that looked particularly helpful. At some point, Harry must have fallen asleep because he found himself being shaken awake by Draco. "Let's go, Harry. It's almost three." Harry stared up into Draco's silver eyes, so close to his own. They were their own little mirrors.

Groaning, Harry stood and stretched. "That chair really is comfy," he muttered under his breath.

Draco caught the comment and laughed. "Let's go, Wonder Boy."