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Before You	By : VSBree Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6294 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights are reserved to J.K. Rowling and company. I am not receiving compensation for this fiction.

Chapter List
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A/N: I have the best fans in the world! Thanks for the great reviews!
Chapter Ten: What A Mother Wants
*
The door creaked open, causing Harry to startle and jolt up from his chair. Draco walked slowly from the room, face red and swollen from crying. It was a face that made Harry’s heart break. Biting his lip, he walked forward and cradled the other wizard’s hand in his face—too afraid to ask about Lady Malfoy.
“They have stabilized her for now,” the other wizard stated softly. “For how long, I am not sure. I need to brew the cure.”
“I can help you,” Harry stated firmly.
Draco’s regarded him reproachfully. “You are dismal at potions, Harry. You would only bugger it up.”
Harry smiled despite himself. “It’s the thought that counts?”
“Certainly not,” Draco stated but was smiling despite the coldness of his words. “Well, maybe in other ways. Shall we away to my laboratory?”
“Shall we away? Is this some sort of historical film I find myself in?”
“Oh do shut up, Potter,” Draco said with a widening smile before pulling Harry tightly into an embrace.
As soon as they were inside the potion’s laboratory, Draco immediately set out to begin preparing the necessary ingredients for the first day of brewing. As he explained along the way, the first day would contain the most time-consuming brewing, and the following two weeks would be a mild brew with added spells and enchantments.
Honestly, all of it sounded like jargon that Harry couldn’t hope to comprehend. So, not wanting to appear rude as Draco went into way too much detail, Harry listened as if enraptured by it; he was enraptured, just not about what Draco was saying—more so about what he looked like while saying it.
Taking a seat, Harry watched his companion brew with enthusiasm. Draco was probably thankful for the distraction. While they hadn’t talked about Lady Malfoy since the incident earlier, Harry was sure that Draco was worrying over it. They didn’t know how long her condition would hold.
What he had seen of her, she was in dire condition. Her hair had gone almost entirely white; her face and body had whittled away to practically nothing. She was sallow and emaciated to a degree that made Harry’s stomach turn. The proud woman of six years ago was no longer the woman she was today, and her son had to witness the entire transformation through the years.
Harry had attempted to help but had gotten his hand smacked, mouth kissed, and bum pushed into a seat far—very, very far—from where the cauldron was brewing.
Hours ticked by, causing Harry’s once straight posture to slouch and weigh down with exhaustion. He had nodded off a time or two, but each time he found Draco in much of the same position over the cauldron.
“If you are tired, go on ahead to bed,” Draco said without looking back at Harry.
Harry wiped the tired tears from his eyes. “What about you?”
“I still have a few hours of brewing before I can take a break,” Draco stated as he tossed a bit more of his ingredient in.
“Then I’ll stay,” Harry said firmly, locking his arms across his chest.
“Go to bed, Harry.”
“Nope,” Harry returned defiantly.
Draco glanced back at him with a small glare. “I do not need you in here. Go to bed.”
Harry pressed his finger contemplatively to his lips. “Hm, nope.”
“You are bloody stubborn,” Draco groaned as he turned fully around to face Harry with the extent of his glare. “What do you hope to accomplish by sitting, snoring, and drooling in my laboratory?”
“I don’t drool!” Draco’s mouth quirked. “Or snore,” Harry added with a glare of his own. “I sleep like an angel.”
“Were Gryffindors always this modest?”
Harry’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t help the little smile tugging at his lips. “Says the Slytherin…” Harry sighed before saying, “I just want to do something for you. No matter how small. You said you wanted me here, so here I am.”
Draco pondered for a moment before sighing to himself. Turning the putrid potion a few more times, Draco set the ladle aside before walking briskly towards Harry. Harry was pulled up by his shoulders, driven hard into the wall beside him, and ravished within an inch of his life.
After being completely stiff against the touch, Harry finally relaxed and encircled the taller wizard’s neck with his arms. He returned the kiss with just as much passionate need as Draco was exerting. The blonde wizard pried his mouth open with a tongue, nibbled sporadically at his lower lip, and groaned heatedly into his mouth.
Then his Slytherin pulled away, smirking as he did with triumph. “Off to bed then.”
Harry gaped at him openly. “Wha—“
“The potion needs tending to now. Off to bed with you,” Draco shooed him with a wave of his hand.
After a kiss like that, Harry was more than a little physically frustrated. He readjusted himself in his pants as they had grown painfully tight. “But—“
“Sleep well, Harry,” Draco said nonchalantly though his eyes said otherwise. Draco was clearly doing it on purpose.
Harry’s body tightened. He would’ve—be it any other time—taken Draco by the hem of his shirt and forced him to finish what he started; however, this wasn’t just some other time. Draco was brewing the cure for his mother. Harry could hardly argue when he knew how much Draco needed to focus on it.
Turning on his heels, he left the smirking Slytherin to his potion.
*
Harry was led inside a room that he never thought he would venture into alone.
Earlier that evening, a small house-elf had come to his room to ask that he come to Lady Malfoy’s bed chambers as she was asking for him. Harry wasn’t quite sure how or why she knew that he was there, but deciding that it was better left to ask another time, he had followed the little elf back to the room where his heart first broke.
“Pardon my intrusion…” Harry stated softly as he entered.
“Come,” a small, winded voice called to him from the bed. “Come and sit beside me, Harry Potter.”
Harry did as he was told, taking care to do it as quietly as he could. The woman, Narcissa Malfoy, was a scant image of herself, but her strong eyes and aristocratic air had remained intact even despite being bedridden.
“My, how you have grown,” she murmured before a small smile tugged at her mouth. “My Draco tells me that you have come to have a rather…close relationship. Is that not true?”
Harry hesitated. “Uh, yes, ma’am.”
Her smile was gentle as she nodded. “I understand that you must have your misgivings in being connected with our family after all that has transpired. I am also aware of your intention to remain in the muggle world. However, it is my deepest wish that you remain by Draco’s side. I hope you do not think me imprudent for saying so.”
“No,” Harry said with a smile of his own. “I’m truly honored to have you say so. I realize I’m probably not what you expected in terms of a partner for your son, but I will do my best to show you that I am capable of being by his side, Lady Malfoy.”
“Narcissa,” she implored before coughing softly. “And you will have to forgive me for saying so, but I wonder why it is that you speak so ill of yourself? You should be more confident in your value, Harry. You are truly a great wizard, and I know my son is undoubtedly fond of you.”
Harry felt the heat creep into his cheeks. “Um, thank you, Lady—I mean, Narcissa.”
“Your gratitude is unnecessary. Rather, I feel that it should be I that is thankful,” she said in a soft, rasping voice. “Draco mentioned your helping him find the cure. No doubt, it was involuntarily done at first,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes. “I am sure my Draco works tirelessly to brew it, but I must be honest with you, Harry.”
Harry’s heart began to pound at the serious gaze she now fixed on him.
“I will not be cured by it,” she stated evenly. Harry’s heart stopped at the finite words. “My illness is incurable. I must ask that when I do pass, you remain by his side. My Draco…he will blame himself, but this book he was sent out for, it was never to cure my ailment, I’m afraid.”
Harry’s body had become impossibly stiff. “What…but…the Healers…”
“My Draco is rather stubborn you see,” she said with a wispy laugh. “He did not accept my fate, and so I created this small untruth so that he might live easier over the years.”
Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He wanted to scream, to cry, and to deny that it was the truth, but Narcissa Malfoy’s eyes never faltered. This was the truth.
“That’s…how could you give him false hope?!” Harry found himself arguing loudly. “He won’t understand. He will blame himself for not getting the cure in time.”
“He will not,” she stated firmly. “I will be revealing the truth to him. However, I needed to speak with you first. He will be very angry when I do, and I fear of what may occur to him should it become too much. I do not have much time, Harry. Will you stay by his side?” There was a collection of tears now in her eyes as she implored him.
Though angry, Harry could never possibly refuse her. “I will. I promise,” he stated, voice cracking as his own emotions became too much. “Please…I…this will break his heart.”
“He will overcome this, Harry. My Draco is strong—stronger still with you by his side.”
There was a knock at the door before Draco came inside. He froze at the door when he realized that Harry was there.
“What is Harry doing here, mother?”
“Come and sit beside me, dearest. Harry, may I speak with my son privately?”
Harry looked at her and then to Draco who seemed perplexed by the intensity of the exchange. Harry feared his voice would give him away if he spoke, so he nodded and left the room. Sitting down on the chair outside the door for the second time since coming here, Harry waited for the inevitable.
His heart was breaking.
*
The moment that Harry knew Draco had been told, the entire floor shook. The door flew open, cracking and tearing from its hinges as Draco stormed into the corridor. His face was red, eyes trailing tears, and jaw grinding with rage. Harry had never seen Draco this angry; at least not since their re-acquaintance.
Draco reared on Harry. “Did she tell you?”
“I—“
“She did, didn’t she? That she is dying. That there is no hope of a cure. That all this time I spent looking for a book, I could have spent beside her!” Draco breathed heavily before focusing on Harry.
“Draco—“
“She lied to me. For years! She allowed me to believe…” Draco trailed off as his voice cracked with emotion. “She…there is no hope,” he said finally, anger melting into pure despair as he attempted to flee down the corridor.
Harry was immediately grabbing him and swiftly pulling Draco tightly against himself, wrapping his arms securely around the much larger wizard. “You have every right to be angry,” he told him firmly into his backside. “You should be angry. However, don’t let this become the reason you turn away from her. Be angry, but be there for her. She needs you now more than ever.”
Harry felt Draco fight his hold, so he secured his arms tighter around the other wizard. “I don’t want you to regret any choices made here in anger. Please, Draco.” Harry could feel the subtle tremors in Draco’s body; he knew that his companion was holding back all sorts of emotions.
However, Harry knew that if he allowed Draco to walk away now, the other wizard would one day regret it. Harry pleaded the other wizard again. “Please, Draco. Go speak with her. You need to hear what she has to say, and then you need to say what is in your heart.”
Draco was starting to slowly relax in Harry’s embrace, no longer fighting it and simply allowing Harry to hold him. After what felt like hours, Draco finally turned and regarded Harry with a calmer face. “Will you come?”
Harry smiled gently. “Of course.”
Narcissa watched the two of them as they re-entered the room—after fixing the broken door Draco had taken out his rage on. Her face was pale, and there was evidence that she had been crying much like Draco. Draco sat beside her and took her hand in his.
“Why did you lie to me?”
Narcissa sighed softly. “So that you could live your life, dearest. When I became ill, you remained ever-faithfully beside me. You never ventured outside in worry that I would worsen while you were away. I could not bear to watch you waste away your youth beside me.”
Harry felt fingers lace with his own. Looking down, he saw that Draco had taken his hand and held it firmly with his own.
“I would not have—“
Narcissa chuckled in a soft musical way. “You would have, dearest. I do not regret for forcing you to live your life; it allowed you to meet Harry,” she passed her glance over to Harry before returning it to Draco. “However, I do regret ever hurting you with it, my Draco. Mothers will do whatever they must for their children.”
Harry watched the exchange, feeling a bit out of place there.
“I want you to live your life, however you see fit. Do not suffer yourself any longer over me, my love.” Her hand pressed against Draco’s cheek. “That is my sincerest wish for you.” She wiped away the tear that coursed from Draco’s eye. “Know that I am proud of you, and your choice in partner. You have become such a fine man.”
Harry felt his own eyes hot with tears. Looking down, he desperately fought to keep them from falling.
That night, after they had spent another two hours in conversation, Lady Narcissa Malfoy passed away quietly in her sleep.
*
Attending the funeral without a polyjuice potion would have been out of the question since that is the last place Harry wanted to draw attention to himself. He had spent all morning going back and forth on whether or not to use a potion and be there merely to support Draco.
Draco had not cried once since the night he was told about his mother’s lie. Harry could see the grief, hear it when Draco spoke, and comprehend it with Draco’s lack of appetite and inability to find any reason to converse with Harry.
Harry understood, however. He had lost many close loved ones. He remained silently beside Draco; he never strayed and never pried. He knew that at the moment, no words could possibly comfort the grieving man. So, he offered small touches. Entwining his fingers with Draco’s; pressing chaste, gentle kisses to his lover’s cheek; embracing the other wizard when the grief deepened on the taller wizard’s face.
Dakin had rang him earlier the day of the funeral. Harry had told the other wizard about Lady Malfoy’s passing, and it was the first time that Dakin had expressed genuine regard for Draco. He asked Harry to look after him and told Harry that he would continue to mind the shop however long he needed him to.
Draco had been preening his appearance in the mirror for nearly an hour. He was dressed in his best black suit for the funeral processions. Harry would usually take this opportunity to ogle Draco’s features and physique; but currently, the pure grief-ridden face of his lover stalled any thoughts other than concern and worry.
“I can come along,” Harry offered after mulling over his decision. “I’m sure I can use someone mundane wizard to join you at the funeral.”
“No need,” Draco quipped before fixing his tie.
“But—“
“Have you thought of returning?” Draco interrupted, glancing at Harry through the mirror’s reflection.
Harry was startled by the sudden question. “What do you mean?”
“You should. I think it best if we spent some time apart while I sort the estate,” Draco stated evenly after fixing a bit of his hair. “You should return to your home.”
“Draco,” Harry breathed, suddenly finding it very difficult to catch his breath. “I want to stay.”
Draco turned towards him, face removed of any emotion. “I think it best if we parted for a while.”
Harry swallowed around the lump growing in his throat. “Why?”
“I need time to myself,” Draco responded coolly. “You should return home while I am away at the funeral.”
Harry’s heart clenched. The sudden feeling of dizziness coming over him as he sorted through his thoughts. “You mean, you want me to go?”
“You never intended to return here,” Draco offered simply. “It was my selfish desire that brought you here. I think it is for the best that you return to your life over there.”
Harry wanted to shout, wanted to scream at Draco that it wasn’t like that. He had come of his own free will. He wanted to stay and support Draco. The sudden rejection was starting to make his chest burn with heat. His stomach tightened as he fought back tears.
“Do you really want me to go?” Harry stared at Draco.
“Yes,” Draco stated firmly.
Harry’s heart dropped, and his hands began to tremble as he watched Draco. The other wizard remained expressionless, betraying nothing. Harry had promised to stay beside Draco; however, he could never force himself on the other wizard either. If Draco didn’t want him here, then he shouldn’t push to stay.
Harry’s voice trembled as he asked once more: “Is that really what you want?”
Draco’s face stiffened. Jaw working, Draco replied, “Yes.”
Nodding and swallowing around the burning in his throat and chest, Harry nodded and left the room. He gathered his things, leaving nothing, and returned to Ireland.
*
It had been a little over four weeks since his return. Harry had barely slept, had no appetite, and had very little energy to converse with Dakin. His large friend was starting to worry, coming at all hours to check on him.
Draco hadn’t answered any phone calls or any owls that Harry sent. It was clear that Draco meant to sever their connection; and as that reality hit, so did the despair. Harry sat on his sofa, focusing on a singular spot on his wall.
He was startled by the sudden pounding at his door. Dakin stormed inside, eyes glaring into Harry’s.
“Alright. That’s enough,” the older wizard said, helping Harry out of his seat and pushing him towards his bedroom. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”
“Dakin—“
“No excuses. I’m bloody tired of all this moping,” Dakin growled, deciding that if Harry didn’t dress, he would dress him instead. He yanked Harry’s shirt up and over his head, then set to his trousers before Harry finally reacted.
“Hey!” Harry yelped, attempting to pull away.
“Take off your bloody trousers!” Dakin growled, yanking at Harry’s trousers as if the very sight of them offended him. “You are too bloody skinny already! How is it that you are even skinnier than before? This is bloody ridiculous!” Dakin continued to curse as he successfully dropped Harry’s trousers despite him fighting it.
“Dakin! S-stop!” Harry cried as the other wizard lifted him bodily, slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and proceeded into the bedroom to choose a clean outfit.
Cursing when there were none, Dakin pulled the wand from his jacket and cleaned a pair of clothes. “Making me do magic…” the bulky wizard grumbled angrily before throwing Harry onto the bed and tossing the clothes at him. “Dress. Now. If you don’t, then I will do it for you.”
“Okay!” Harry stated quickly before pulling on his clean shirt and trousers. “Where are you taking me?”
“Out,” the other wizard clipped angrily. “Come on. Hurry up.”
Harry grumbled before finishing the zip and following Dakin out of the house to the older wizard’s beaten down truck. “How about we take my car?”
“No,” Dakin responded curtly before forcing Harry into the passenger side of the car. “Buckle up, Harry. It’s a long ride.”
“Wait, wha—“ he was cut off by Dakin peeling out, car jerking right to left before straightening.
“I warned that bastard too,” Dakin continued to grumble to himself. “What does he do? He just drops you like some sort of toy he’s lost interest in.”
“He didn’t,” Harry argued, but Dakin ignored him.
“Then it’s up to Dakin to pick up the bloody pieces,” the other wizard continued with a ruthless laugh. “How bloody lovely.”
“His mum died. People do this when they grieve,” Harry continued to argue against his seething friend’s words. Desperately trying to convince Dakin—along with himself.
“I didn’t!” Dakin barked. “I wanted you there when dad died. I still want you even when I know it’s pointless. I’m just as bloody pathetic as you are right now.”
“Hey!”
“Well you are,” Dakin said, finally grinning. “You haven’t heard from him in over a month—the bloody bastard—and you’ve been moping around just as long. It’s enough, Harry.”
“I…” Harry couldn’t exactly argue with what Dakin was saying. However, he truly believed that Draco would come around. Sooner or later, Draco would come back to him. He hoped that it was sooner, however. “Look, everyone handles death differently. I know that he’ll come round once he’s dealt with his grief.”
“What if he never does? Are you planning to wait around for that selfish prissy boy bastard?!”
“Yes,” Harry stated simply. “This is the first time I’ve been in love, Dakin.” Dakin stiffened at Harry’s proclamation. “True love doesn’t simply fade away with a month of no contact. Draco never said that it was over between us. He wanted time apart—“
“Which is bloke code for ‘let’s end this,’” Dakin interjected hotly.
“Not necessarily,” Harry refuted. “If he wanted to end it, he would have said so. I truly believe he’ll come back.”
“If you believed that, you wouldn’t be close to crying while saying it,” Dakin pointed out with a stern face. “This is pointless. We’ll see what that bloody bastard does; but for now, you and I are going to have some fun.”
Harry sighed, pressing his forehead to the glass of the window. He didn’t want to have fun, but he knew that Dakin was just trying to get him out of the funk he was in. Deciding that arguing with Dakin was hardly productive, he simply watched as the world passed by.
He wondered absently how Draco was doing. He hoped that he was eating and sleeping at least now that he didn’t have to worry about Harry watching him. Maybe with Harry there, Draco felt he couldn’t grieve properly.
The heat and burn was back in his throat as he fought the quickly collecting tears. He wouldn’t cry. Draco hadn’t ended things. Harry wanted to trust that Draco would eventually come back to him.
*
Harry awoke the next morning cradled in Dakin’s arms after a long night of drinking with new and old friends. Pushing up and away from Dakin, Harry crawled over to his jacket and retrieved his phone to check the hour.
Twenty missed calls. From who? Harry checked his history and saw that Draco had been attempting to call him all night. His hand shook as he stood up, precariously swaying as he did. He pressed the redial and called Draco, shaking tremendously as he did.
“Took you long enough,” the deep voice growled through the phone.
Harry’s voice shook as he held the phone tightly to his ear. “It’s been a while,” Harry said with a cracking voice. The night’s activities making it hard to talk. “I…I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“Where are you?”
“Huh?”
“You were not at your home or the shop,” Draco explained in exasperation.
Harry cursed under his breath. Of course. The one night Dakin forces him to go out. “I was out.”
“Seems that you have been doing well without me,” Draco stated bitterly.
Harry shook his head but regretted it as it nearly caved in to do so. “No, I—“
“Do not bother yourself to explain,” Draco interjected hotly. “Where are you now?”
Harry looked around. He didn’t know actually. They drove around with friends all night to different pubs, and he wasn’t even sure where Dakin had taken him. “Uh, not sure, actually.”
Draco groaned in frustration. “Then who are you with?”
“Dakin.”
Draco laughed mirthlessly. “Of course you would be with the troll. Why did I even bother asking…”
“Draco,” Harry started. “You hadn’t contacted me in over a month…”
“I was sorting through some things,” Draco retorted angrily. “I do not want to say this to you over the phone. I will wait until you return. Wake up that bloody troll and come home.” The call was cut off, leaving Harry oddly mixed up inside.
After pocketing his mobile, Harry woke up Dakin to explain why they needed to leave. They set off shortly after—Dakin grumbling the entire way.
TBC…
Lots of drama in this chapter. I toyed with whether or not to kill of Draco’s mother (I hate killing characters) but ultimately, this seemed the right course for the story. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Until next time!
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Before You