Title: Refuge

Rating: R

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Characters and universe owned by J.K. Rowling.

Summary: What if the reason Draco Malfoy ran to Harry Potter was because he couldn't live without him? Would a moment of indecision on Draco's part be enough to secure him Harry's protection and eventually his love?

Warnings: Slash. Magical Creature: Veela!Draco.

A/N: A HUGE HUGE thanks to the ever-patient, ever-thorough RAISINOUS FIENDLING for being the best beta ever.

Chapter One

The Second Detour

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As soon as Draco's feet hit the ground after Apparating away from Hogwarts, he doubled over and vomited. He saw Snape's sneer but the other man stayed quiet.

After a moment Snape pulled Draco up by the arm. "Come, Draco. We must hurry."

As they ran through the woods towards Snape's home, Draco couldn't help feeling that he'd lost something he'd sorely miss. He thought the sinking feeling was only fear of what the Dark Lord would do to him once he found out he had failed, but he couldn't brush away the nagging feeling that it wasn't fear at all, but tremendous loss. It couldn't possibly be for Dumbledore.

Snape threw open the door to his shabby abode and ushered Draco in, hastily bolting it shut behind them. Immediately, he barricaded the door that Draco knew led to Pettigrew's bedroom.

When Snape finally turned towards him, Draco realized he looked furious and a bit frightened.

"You have failed, Draco. You were unable to kill Dumbledore. There will be consequences."

Draco closed his eyes and nodded, trying his best to fight his tears.

Snape sighed. "You have a choice."

Draco shook his head. "No, I don't. I made my choice."

"You have a choice," Snape continued, as if he hadn't heard the interruption. "I cannot go back to Hogwarts or to the Order. My place will be with the Dark Lord. However, you must realize that he will always be waiting for you to repay your father's debt. You are more than likely going to fail."

Tears rolled down Draco's cheeks as he nodded, finally losing control of his emotions. He knew he had messed up and he certainly knew what was expected of him. Snape didn't need to remind him. He already felt as though this one night was going to ruin his life forever.

"Potter was on that balcony tonight. He will not blame you for the death. He will, I believe, forgive you for letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, but you will have to go to him as soon as you can."

Despite himself, Draco cried harder. "What are you saying? I'm n-not a spy!"

Snape shook his head. He was tired and very frustrated with Draco. "You won't be a spy. You are not coming back to the Dark Lord. I will let him know that you disappeared or died -- it does not matter. Listen, Draco, I promised your mother I would assist you in any way I could. What she did not know, and I will tell you now, is that I have not been loyal to the Dark Lord. I will go back to him but I will continue to work against him, to try to defeat him."

Draco's tears stopped, and he sat on one of the threadbare sofas. "My mother," he whispered, his voice wavering as he thought of all his mother had done to protect him. Now he was unable to save her.

"Whether or not you return to the Dark Lord, it will not affect your mother's fate. That is, if the Dark Lord has decided to kill her, you will not be able to stop him. There are many things you do not understand, Draco. Your mother and father made their choices; it is time for you to make yours. We do not have long. He will be expecting us."

Draco began to shake as he thought of his mother, and of running to Potter. He gathered his strength. "I'm not a traitor like you," he sneered, "I will go back."

Draco stood, but Snape grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. It was not anger that moved him, but fear. Draco did not understand, and they didn't have the time to debate each other. "You insolent brat, I am trying to help you! Don't you see? You will not last under the Dark Lord's service. You will be killed, if not today, then tomorrow! You cannot save your mother; you cannot do anything for anyone! You must run!"

Draco sagged against Snape, and the older man released him, letting him fall to the ground.

"Potter hates me," Draco cried. "He won't trust me. He won't help me. I'm as good as dead going to him for help."

Snape snarled in anger. "Listen to me, Draco. Potter may be the most brazen, irresponsible Gryffindor to have ever been born, but he will be more than willing to take in a reformed Death Eater. He will do what Dumbledore would have done. He will do it for the same reason Dumbledore thought your life was worth saving."

"And why was that?" asked Draco, his voice and his spirit weakening. He couldn't help thinking that Snape was wrong. Dumbledore may have offered him protection, but any protection from Potter would come at much too high a price. He would probably have to change his name and his face before Potter agreed to speak to him.

"Do you know what you are, Draco? Do you know what blood runs in your veins?" Snape asked, his fury gone. He was watching Draco carefully.

"Of course I do," said Draco proudly. "I'm a pureblood Wizard."

"You're more than that!" Snape's voice was rising again but he took a steadying breath and appraised Draco for a moment. "You are part veela."

Draco's eyes flashed. "How do you know that?" He backed away from the other man and his fear increased as he thought of what damage that information could cause him.

"Does it matter, Draco? The point is, Dumbledore knew what you were, and he knew who your soul mate is." Draco started to argue, but Snape shot his wand out to silence him. Draco tried his voice twice and failed. "Listen to me. You are part veela, and the magic in you is strong enough to have bound itself to another soul, and that soul just happens to belong to Harry Potter... but you knew this"

Draco glared at Snape. The professor's look was appraising.

"How long have you known?" Snape asked coolly.

Draco swallowed. It was painful to think of how long he had known and it was even more difficult to say it out loud. Finally, in a hoarse voice, he answered. "A year, maybe more."

"And were you planning on ignoring it? Hoping it would go away? Did you want the Dark Lord to find out?" Snape asked, approaching the fair boy once more.

"I don't know," answered Draco quietly. "I had to save my mother."

"At what price, Draco? At what price were you willing to save someone who is beyond your help?"

Draco started to argue but Snape interrupted him. "We don't have time! You cannot go back to the Dark Lord. You must go to Potter."

"HE WON'T BELIEVE ME!" Draco shouted at Snape. He was desperately trying to control his emotions. There was no use in Draco thinking Potter would save him; it would only cause him more pain in the end.

Snape had a mug in his hand, which he shoved into Draco's as he barked, "Then make him!"

Draco's stomach dropped just as he felt the familiar pull of the Portkey at his navel. As he moved through time and space, he wished with all his might that he had never been born so that he wouldn't have to face whatever was waiting for him.

He landed on his backside on well-kept grass in the middle of a Muggle suburb. A batty looking woman came shuffling out of a nearby door to meet him. She looked around nervously before addressing him. "Don't think anyone saw you. It's dark enough, I reckon."

Draco looked at her bewilderedly. "Excuse me?"

She ignored him. Coaxing him up and leading him into the house, she said, "Never mind, never mind all that, let's just get you inside."

The house was full of cats. They meowed at him and bared their teeth at him as he looked around the dwelling. He had never been inside a Muggle house before, but this house, he could tell, was not completely ordinary. Magic lingered in the air, and although unmoving pictures littered the walls, none of the people in them looked remotely related to the woman that had shown him in.

Draco turned to see where the woman had gone off to and found her coming towards him with a tea tray. "Well, don't just stand around all day," she said, "come have a seat."

He followed her into the sitting room and took a seat on the armchair facing a box with a glass front. She handed him a cup and Draco tried to spot her wand. She had a bathrobe on, which appeared to have more than enough pockets to hide a wand in.

"May I ask who you are?" Draco implored, doing his best to be polite.

"Of course, of course. Arabella Figg, my dear. You'll be staying with me for the next couple of weeks."

Draco was affronted by this news. "I will?"

She nodded, looking anxious. "Oh yes, Dumbledore has arranged it all. Until he can find you a secure place, I'll be looking after you."

Dumbledore... "Don't you know?" Draco asked, realizing too late that there was no way she could know, as it had only just happened.

"Know what, m'dear?"

Draco shook his head. He had expected the entire world to stop when a man like Dumbledore dies. "Nothing, never mind. Do you live here alone?"

Mrs. Figg nodded, still looking anxious. "During most of the year, just keep an eye out. When Harry comes back from school, they'll be using the house to keep track of 'im."

"Potter?" Draco croaked, though he wasn't surprised. "Does he live here? Are you his aunt?"

"Oh no, no! The Dursleys live two streets down. I'm just here to keep an eye out," she repeated lamely.

Draco sipped his tea and nodded politely. It had to be past two in the morning. He felt strange sitting in Mrs. Figg's Muggle sitting room talking about Harry Potter when just hours ago he had... well, he hadn't, Snape had.

As soon as he finished his tea, Mrs. Figg stood and showed him to his room. Draco couldn't help grimacing at his new surroundings. From the pink and green floral wallpaper to the matching bedspread, it had to be one of the most revolting rooms he'd ever been in.

"Thank you," he said graciously to Mrs. Figg.

"I got your measurements from Madam Malkins and took the liberty of buying some muggle clothes for you, dear. I think you'll see that we've taken care of everything." She smiled weakly and added, "Goodnight, dear."

"Night," he replied and locked the door behind her. He threw himself down on the bed and thought he'd have a good cry before going to sleep. However, the tears never came and his brain didn't seem to be able to shut down.

No one had believed him capable of killing Dumbledore. And his precious secret, the one he had fought with all his might to keep from the Dark Lord, from Bellatrix as she taught him Occlumency -- it had been discovered! He really should have known Dumbledore would find him out.

Feeling restless, Draco stood and explored the room. Bags of Muggle clothing lay in the wardrobe; he went about hanging things and putting things in their proper order.

He found a new pair of pajamas and, with trembling fingers, removed his dirty robes and pulled on the fresh clothing. He looked at the pile of black linen lying on the floor. The Hogwart's insignia was visible and Draco kicked the clothes away, doubting he'd ever be allowed back.

He looked through the nightstand and found a book in the top drawer. It was Veela, Wizards and Soulmates by Violet Battleman. Draco quickly shut the drawer and went back to the bed. Not pulling the covers back, he sat on the edge, trying his best to sort through his thoughts.

Everyone had been prepared for this but him. Even Mrs. Figg knew he'd need a hideout for a while. He took solace in the knowledge that he could have accomplished his task if he'd wanted to. He hadn't thought twice, all year, about what would happen. It hadn't been until the moment when he had his wand on Dumbledore that he realized he could not kill the old man. He had chosen Dumbledore's life over his mother's and he knew that he would have to live with the guilt.

He couldn't help but wonder if his mother would be killed and when. Would it be a simple Avada Kedavra or would the Dark Lord torture her first? Would they rape? She was, after all, an extremely attractive pureblood. He thought of Longbottom's parents rotting in St. Mungo's. He imagined his mother in hospital gown, her hair untidy, medi-witches helping her eat and a mad glossy look in her eyes.

He didn't even notice that the tears had started again. He stopped thinking of his mother and thought of what his friends at school would think of his adventure. Crabbe and Goyle would probably think it was all really cool. Pansy would fawn over him and tell him how brave he was, letting all the Death Eaters in under Dumbledore's nose. They all thought it was going to be cool, joining the Dark Lord, and they were all wrong.

None of it had turned out the way he thought it would. He had always thought serving the Dark Lord would be an honor. He thought he'd be able to make his parents proud of him at last. After all, he'd never managed to beat Potter at Quidditch, and his grades always came up short of Granger's. Now he didn't even have a chance at being made Head Boy.

The veela thing didn't bother him so much anymore; he saw it for what it was -- a way out. He knew he was bound to Harry already; it wouldn't matter what Draco wanted or what he did.

Draco curled himself into a ball and tried to shut his eyes. The images of Dumbledore falling from the tower faded after a while, and he felt himself drifting off.