Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

To Find The Missing Lifeline	By : EvilConcubine Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 37353 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
20. Care For The Living, Peace To The Dead

     To everyone's frustration Weasley's flying car cut out. Two hours of searching for Draco appeared to be fruitless. The compass was leading them in some roundabout ways, but the direction finally became clearer as soon as they found themselves in the Muggle World. The compass wasn't shining even a tiny bit, which meant Draco was far away. Everyone approved Hermione's offer to go by taxi. The driver wasn't particularly pleased that these strange nervous-looking people couldn't specify the address, looking at 'some fancy device', only telling him where he had to turn and hurried him all the time, making him break the traffic rules several times. Eventually, the compass started to shine with the very bright pale-blue light. Harry's heart was beating heavily in his chest. They were close, very close. When the light became so bright that it was hard to see anything at all, they asked the driver to stop the car and got out of it in the street, which looked almost deserted, not including some cars passing by. The Muggle World felt oddly alien to Harry, and it was a little hard for him to believe that he'd spent more than a half of his life here. It was already dark and it made the light of the compass look especially intense. Quickly the four people followed the dark-blue pointer, but then Harry stopped abruptly in the middle of the street, because the pointer had turned back. He turned around confusedly, studying the surroundings. There was nothing in the place the compass indicated, just an empty street and some houses that were too far away to hope that Draco was kept in one of them. Harry wanted to scream and pull out his hair. There was nothing and no one there.

"So?" Ron asked, looking at his paled friend and put his hand on the strained shoulder supportively.

"I don't understand... He should be here somewhere," Harry said quietly, feeling the way the hope was slowly leaving him treacherously. Ron's hand squeezed his shoulder hard enough to hurt and sober him up a little. Harry blamed himself for not letting Snape perform a tracking ritual with Draco's blood. What if that would have been more helpful? He expected the man to blame him aloud for his enormous self-assurance and foolishness.

"Underground then?" Severus offered, instead.

"Maybe," Harry gasped quietly, looking down. He ran to the bus station, where the map of the area was, and found the nearest underground station. Fortunately, it wasn't far away, and soon the searching party was there. But the station was under reconstruction, so, at first, it seemed a little problematic to get in, however, surprisingly, it didn't take much of an effort. Quickly and easily they stupefied and obliviated the security guards, and, without wasting any more time, descended the unmoving escalator. There was no one there: no more guards, no workers; the fact that the station was closed actually acted in their favour. Harry approached the edge of the poorly illuminated platform. The compass pointed to the right and Harry was going to move that way, hoping that the tunnels weren't twisting so much that it was actually the wrong tunnel, and the one they had to enter was the one on the other side of the station. Another doubt that tormented his mind was that they weren't in the right place at all. Weren't they wasting time, looking for Draco here? How could he be here? Why would the abductors, whoever they were, have taken him to the Muggle World and to the underground? Outwardly he didn't show his doubts and readily jumped down on a track. The others followed him.

"Don't step over there... and over there," Hermione pointed when Ron helped her to move down. "The third and fourth rails are powered. Well... Just keep off the rails," she warned, in case someone of her companions was unfamiliar with the dangers of the Tube.

     They moved quickly into the dark tunnel. The compass wasn't shining too bright, but its light was enough to illuminate the way. Harry's heart and thoughts were with Draco. 'God, please, let him be okay. He's my life. Don't let them hurt him. I'll do anything... Just let him be okay. Oh, please, God,' he thought non-stop. Even if he was going to get into a trap, he didn't care. The very thought of losing Draco was making his heart stop and grow cold. They'd just found each other again, they loved each other, they'd been making plans, they'd become a family, and now, once again, someone wanted to ruin it. 'I won't let them. Draco, hold on... Wherever you are, whatever is happening to you right now, hold on.'

     Following the compass, eventually, they turned to the left from the main tunnel. There was the other one that obviously wasn't in use for a long time. The rails were rusted fast and there were some old, torn wires near the walls. Anxiety and hope rose in Harry when the compass was shining in its brightest, but the hope shattered as soon as the pointer turned back again, just like it had happened in the street somewhere above them.

"Fuck..." he whispered and stopped. Draco was somewhere close; alone, scared, probably injured, and it broke Harry's heart that he didn't know how to get to him. The others were looking around, catching their breath after a long run. Already on the verge of a breakdown, Harry noticed something on the wall not far off. He came closer quickly and saw magical symbols, written on the wall, half-erased from time. The hope made his heart beat faster. No one left anything like that in the Muggle World without a reason.

"Here!" he called. When everyone approached, Snape immediately started to cast some spells on the wall. After several of them the secret door revealed itself. For Harry it seemed just a little strange and awkward that he and Snape were working together; and yet, it felt right, like it had had to be from the very start, since they'd met years ago. The door absorbed his attention for a few moments. It was an old, dusty, large and heavy, double-wing door, made of steel with an unremarkable ornament. It opened itself in front of them, disturbing all the dust. It was just another portal to the Wizarding World, like hundreds of the other portals, but it seemed strange why couldn't they get there from the Wizarding World and had been forced to run in circles. They entered and found themselves in some kind of a half-ruined dungeon. The door closed behind them and disappeared.

"I have to send another patronus to my dad to make them find this place sooner," Ron muttered. He knew his father and several Aurors were already on their way. Harry nodded absently, half-listening to his friend. 'He's here... He has to be here,' Harry thought fervently, looking at the dark-blue pointer. Oh, gods, every second of delay could be another second of Draco's fear, pain and, Merlin knew, what else. The thought whipped him on more than effectively.

     Draco was writhing on the floor in pain. It hurt a lot, but it felt different from what Lucius and the Dark Lord had been doing to him. When they had tortured him, the pain had been unspeakable, extraordinary, making him feel torn apart both physically and mentally; his very soul had been damaged and hurt beyond belief. And it had been hard for him to believe that anyone could live through that. Now it wasn't like that. The fact that he was still able to think, even if his thoughts were a mess, was a proof of it. He'd had enough in his past to compare. He knew this pain and he remembered that he'd wondered sometimes if he would have ever been able to forget. He didn't know if the woman wasn't really experienced in using exactly this spell or she was a skilful torturer, who decided to increase the pain gradually, to prevent her victim from fainting or from having the pain shock too soon. He tried to retreat into himself, tried not to hear his own cries, but no one could simply abstract away from the Cruciatus curse. But the other pain was much stronger: he knew that she was killing his son. If only Draco could take all the damage, he would willingly accept the pain with every cell of his body. He was ready to endure a lot more than this if he knew that he alone was suffering. But, as long as the child was a part of him, it was impossible to disconnect him from it. The thought that his son was in pain made him feel even more miserable. Not immediately he felt through the pain, caused by the torture, that his heart began to hurt - a familiar and frightening feeling, too. No, it was nothing... The most terrible thing was the feeling of his baby curling into a tight ball, probably, in some kind of attempt to defend himself or simply because of pain. Draco sobbed at this desperately. At the same time Medea had already broken his barriers and entered his mind. She looked through some memories.

"Indeed, destiny is a fickle thing," she chuckled and even stopped the torture. "Did Lucius really think that the Dark Lord would have become his relative? Oh, you poor thing, Draco. What a cruel father Lucius was. Loyal to our Lord, I'm sure; albeit he overestimated his own importance. And he would have certainly lost his mind completely if he only knew that, instead of the Dark Lord, he has become related to Harry Potter. If he was still alive, he would have died from shame and disgrace."

     She was playing with his mind. Torturing his body, she also made him hear the baby's crying, driving Draco crazy and making him scream insanely, even if he knew that the crying wasn't real. There was no name to such cruelty. She got bored soon though, so she left his mind alone. In a little while he felt that his baby stopped moving and Draco decided that everything was over. They both were doomed. He was still losing blood from his injured arms, and he knew it wouldn't take long for him to faint and die. 'I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you. I tried...' he thought mournfully, feeling no movements inside. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that his little one wasn't in that excruciating agony anymore, but it didn't work. The feeling of emptiness seemed to be swallowing him up. He thought that he would have never been healed anyway after everything that had been done to him, after everything that had been lost. And then his baby had been a hope, a light of his life, but now it was gone, too, and he had nothing left, nothing at all. He'd seen the nightmares where the Death Eaters killed him and his child, but he'd never truly believed that it could have really happened to them. Just when he'd thought that everything had been fine, that he'd been happy and finally enjoyed his life, it was taken away from him. He would never see his baby, never hold him in his arms... He would never see Harry again. He didn't know why he was still trying to stay conscious as best as he could. It was already pointless.

     Harry and his companions quickly found the right way in this seemingly endless dungeon. Very soon they reached the heavy door with the faint light coming from under it. Harry closed the compass, so it stopped shining, and held the wand in his hand firmly. All of them moved quietly to the door. It was Ron, who pushed it to open. There was a corridor with the other doors or just the doorways without doors. They heard the voices from one of the rooms. Two men were talking to each other:

"...No, it's not the case. It wasn't them to blame," one man said.

"I know," the other one replied. There was a pause in their talk, but they didn't seem to be aware of the intrusion. Meanwhile, Severus was dispelling the wards he'd detected and Harry with his two friends were dealing with a magical trap that they'd found, scanning their surroundings. By the type of the wards Severus already knew that they were against the Death Eaters, and he wasn't surprised at all; what was more, he'd been almost sure about it before receiving the evidence; even from the very beginning.

"I'm going to be late for work. I wonder when Medea's going to finish here. She said it wouldn't take long."

"I don't know why she needs all of us. I think we can make it without you, so go. Say your wife hello."

"I will."

     When the man, who suspected nothing, was leaving the room Harry and the others were ready to fight. Severus quickly put the powerful silencing spell on the area not to alert the other enemies, in case there were a lot of them. The Death Eater didn't have a chance even to take the wand in his hand. He was hit with body-bind spell that Harry had cast. His heavy body fell on the stone floor. The four intruders broke in the room. The other man had a better reaction and shielded himself, which helped him to avoid several spells, but he was outnumbered and the attack was too unexpected, so he joined his companion on the floor. They both were also paralysed with the dark spell, which Snape had cast, because he knew that there were ways to disentangle from the binding spells. His spell made both bodies look unhealthily ossified and their skin was covered with some kind of hoarfrost. The group moved on, quickly and quietly. Somehow the enemies already knew about the intrusion, so they were met by eight Death Eaters that literally appeared out of nowhere. Harry noticed that one of them ran away somewhere. The others attacked. The fight was desperate. Some spell burned Harry's arm, but all he could think about was Draco, so he dashed into the battle at breakneck speed. He had an advantage - the Death Eaters feared him after he'd destroyed their Lord once and for all. He was a powerful enemy, and not many were ready to challenge him. Snape also had some weighty advantages, being well-versed about their weak points and being an outstanding duellist. Harry injured one of the attackers gravely. The wounded man looked at Harry with dread and quickly disapparated. Two other joined him soon, preferring to escape before it wasn't too late. Harry's heart skipped a beat when he thought that someone could disapparate with Draco and they would have to search for him somewhere else. The Death Eaters... The other thing that caused pain was the bitter realisation that they'd captured Draco because of him. They needed Harry and they knew where it hurt most. However, he thought that their trap was lame so far. 'Draco, we're almost there. Hold on.' He looked around. His companions had already taken care of the other attackers. Three were lying on the floor unconscious and the other one was moaning in pain. Severus grabbed his shirt collar, set him up on his feet and shook him abruptly, making him gasp.

"Where's your hostage? Is he alive? Where is he?" he demanded. There was such a deep threat in his seemingly calm voice that the young Death Eater looked back at him like a mouse at the snake, feeling cold all over. He lifted his shaking hand and pointed the finger in the same direction where one of them had run, and that meant that they were now expected for sure. Severus paralysed the young enemy and let him fall on the floor freely.

"I wanted to finish it quickly, but you chose this," Medea said, giving Draco another break after the Cruciatus. 'Liar... You're enjoying killing me slowly, even if it wasn't planned. You'll cause Harry even more pain like this, and you're thrilled by the thought that he'll find out that I was dying slowly and painfully,' he thought very weakly, too exhausted and damaged to think clearly. He wasn't even reacting at the physical pain properly anymore, because the misery was stronger. Actually, he didn't care what she was doing or saying. He couldn't even see her, lying on his side with his back turned on her. Instead, he remembered the way he'd wanted his child to die, even wishing him death, when he'd found out about pregnancy. How could anyone even think about such things? He found it relieving that his mind was already fading and numbing because of the grief, pain and loss of blood. He wanted to stop feeling and stop thinking what a deathblow it would be to Harry to find him and their baby dead. Soon it was going to end for him. It was then when he heard the concerned voice of a man, and the torture stopped again. Medea's voice was furious. Draco couldn't understand what they were talking about (he didn't really care anyway). All he understood was that the man was one of her lackeys, who tried to warn her about something.

"...You were supposed to ward the entrance properly!" Draco heard her exclaiming angrily.

"We weren't supposed to stay here this long," the man tried to make excuses. They were talking about something else, but Draco could hardly understand them.

     Harry's heart nearly stopped when they entered the chamber and saw Draco on the floor. His body was trembling painfully, but he was making no sound, and he looked badly injured. There was blood. Harry couldn't see his face as Draco was lying with his back turned to the entrance, and he wasn't sure he would be able to endure the look of the beloved face right now. It didn't look like reality to him anymore; it was more like a nightmare. Forgetting the caution, the four of them hurried to the shaking body on the floor. Once they all were inside, they heard the sounds of apparition behind their backs. Quickly they turned around, ready to fight. There, in the corridor, were several Death Eaters. Even if the dungeon wasn't illuminated well enough, Harry quickly recognised Medea Levington among them, because the investigators had showed him her photographs, asking if he had ever seen her before. She was the one to whom Ginny had paid to bewitch him.

     Although Medea had opposed the idea of confronting Harry Potter in the open fight, after what had happened to their Lord, and preferred the other ideas how to put him into grave, her Lord ordered her to fight, which meant he put a lot of trust in her skills! Oh, she wanted Harry Potter dead! She couldn't just leave, even if she'd planned to. Now she saw her archenemy and just couldn't retreat. What was so special about him? He was only a young man, even if he was a living legend; he was mortal. It was just a young man in front of her, desperate and grieving for his dying lover and their child. All right, he could supposedly fight The Unforgivables. So what? There were plenty of other spells and he couldn't fight all of them. She would do her best to please her Lord, who wasn't pleased with her, because her previous plans had failed. She was going to prove that she was worthy of his gift. Her head was half-healed after Draco's hit, she had already taken care of it, though she hadn't had enough time, but she was ready to fight.

     The battle had started immediately, and, no matter how desperately Harry wanted to be by Draco's side, he was forced to fight for him first. Hermione gave him a look of understanding and kneeled behind Draco's back to cover him. She failed to disapparate with him to some safe place because of the wards or something else that she couldn't see, so she was now on the way of any accident curse; or, if anyone decided to hurt the blond again deliberately, she would shield him; of course, if they wouldn't cast the Unforgivables or some other spells her magical shields couldn't block. Nevertheless, she picked the moment to spell the bandages on Draco's hands and forearms, wondering if there were other injuries she could take care of, but couldn't see. It wasn't a proper healing, but it would stop the blood loss for the time. She also quickly covered him with her long overcoat, feeling how cold his skin was. Meanwhile, her companions had broken out of the chamber, where the enemies had intended to trap them, into the wide corridor, to have more space to fight and not to feel cornered. But Hermione stayed in the chamber with Draco. She was covering her friends and ex-professor as best as she could, though she couldn't see well from her point. She knew it was important; it was vital for Harry to be sure that Draco was protected. Without relaxing her attention, she was rubbing the blonde's shoulder very gently and soothingly, almost afraid to touch him, as she knew the way the entire body hurt after the Cruciatus; sometimes even the gentle air flow on the skin seemed to be enough to irritate the damaged nerves. And it was obvious to her that Draco had been tortured with that gruesome curse. But, touching him like this, she prevented him from losing the contact with reality completely. In fact, Draco felt pain as if it was somewhere in the background. Mostly he just felt cold and emptiness.

"Harry..." he whispered hoarsely and miserably. Hermione heard him even though the battle was deafening and the floor vibrated under her knees and feet. He could only hear her soothing words close to his ear, the words he could hardly distinguish.

     Notwithstanding the fact that Harry and the others were outnumbered, somehow only four or five Death Eaters were notable among the others, and they seemed truly dangerous. Ron and Harry covered and supported each other, making quite a good team. It was more instinctively than consciously. And Severus had his own tactics. It looked like he entertained himself by bewildering the minds of the enemies or filling them with pain, or showing the remarkable dexterity, making them hurt and kill each other with curses that they cast at him. He didn't care that several other Death Eaters apparated there to help the others. He was ruthless and wanted to take vengeance for Draco. They had to pay; they all had to pay dearly for every drop of Draco's blood they had shed, for every second of pain they had caused, for every second of fear. He could tell that Harry wanted the same as he saw his ex-student (and a curse of his life) fighting like a mad, wounded lion. Three of them knew that Medea was the one they had to stop in the first place, because she was obviously a leader. But the woman was hiding behind the backs of the other Death Eaters so far. She even had someone under the Imperius curse to use him as a human shield. She was only attacking Harry and no one else. The Death Eaters were thinning out gradually, and soon she would be left without her cannon fodder. But she finally found Harry Potter's weak point. Oh, yes, she found it! How hadn't she come to this idea sooner? Almost easily, finding only some weak resistance, she pushed her mind into his. Suddenly Harry's mind was flooded by some torn fragments of thoughts. He became disoriented, but he knew what it meant. He felt someone else in his mind, which appeared to be unguarded, allowing the intrusion.

"Idiot, your barriers! She's a Legilimens," he heard the familiar scolding, but it seemed so distant.

'For a legend you have quite an ordinary mind. Almost. Strong and yet, defenceless,' she 'said' inside of his mind. She made him vulnerable, as he couldn't pay attention to the fight anymore. But neither could she, it seemed.

'Get the fuck out of my head!' Harry was 'screaming' furiously inside of his own mind, where she tried to trap him, cutting him off the reality completely. He couldn't close his mind and cast her out of it, no matter how hard he tried. He felt bitter. He could have avoided all of it, maybe even the influence that had been driving him crazy for months, if only he had really tried to master the Occlumency when he had had a chance. Even if it had been a real pain in the neck to deal with Snape, he hadn't been better himself. At worst, he could have tried to find someone else to teach him, even if there weren't really many people with such skills. But no! He'd allowed some slut to separate him and Draco, hurting his beloved so badly and robbing them of their time and happiness; he'd allowed her to almost ruin his mind... If only his mind had been trained to block any attempts to meddle into it, perhaps, he would have been able to avoid all of the misery and pain that he and Draco had endured lately. Perhaps, Ginny wouldn't have been involved in the crime by a sly woman, who had probably taken advantage of the silly girl.

'Goodness, are you really that naive? It was she, who found me. I was just looking for an opportunity to get closer to you. She made it all so easy for me. It was just a lucky coincidence; she was so desperate, looking for someone like me; she even asked some of her friends if they knew anyone with such kind of abilities,' the woman 'said'. Her 'voice' was hypnotising in his head, and he felt himself relaxing. 'All I had to do was give her the address through one of them, and she ran to me sooner than I expected. Foolish girl was so in love, or, very likely, obsessed. How could I refuse to help her? I was even honest with her, so she knew about the risks; she even knew it was a crime, but that didn't stop her. She didn't want to believe that your heroic heart already belonged to someone else, so the result of my work wouldn't have been exactly what she wanted. It was so amusing to see your degradation. You were going crazy slowly. Or you would have just drunk yourself to death, eventually. It would have made a good article in the papers. How sad, it didn't work.' Harry half-felt that someone brought his body down on the ground. He thought that it was, most definitely, Ron, who tried to protect him. And then he heard a distant scream, and he knew it was Ron's. But Harry couldn't help his friend, no matter how hard he tried to tear himself out of the trap. He felt that Medea was repulsed, as she was looking through some of his memories. In passing she watched Harry killing her master. But Harry felt she was quite interested, looking at his memories of the horcruxes. Her 'voice' continued, nevertheless: 'I must confess, I was afraid to fight you, but now I see that you're nothing special. You couldn't even protect people you loved. Right now, in the middle of a fight, you're helpless, and your friends are trying to protect you. Then can it really be true that you destroyed the Dark Lord by accident? Were you just ridiculously lucky? I shouldn't have waited that long then. I'm so disappointed. But it's an honour to kill you anyway. My Lord wants me to. What reason do you have to live now? Your lover and your child are, most assuredly, already dead after all I did to them. You're not going to outlive such a misery, I can feel it...'

'Then I'll come back from the dead to find you! I swear, I will. It was you all the time... You ruined our lives. I'm going to kill you, bitch, no matter what it takes!!!'

'Go ahead. What are you waiting for?' the unimpressed 'voice' replied. It was then when he gathered all his will and started to push against her mind. And, at the same time, he felt another intrusion, this time, somehow a familiar one - Snape's. Together they pushed Medea's mind out of Harry's. In addition, Snape caused her some mental damage. Harry felt it. And then he was free and aware of what was happening around. He knew it had only been seconds he had spent in his own head. He was on the ground. Ron was close to him, writhing in pain under the Cruciatus. Harry, no matter how much his head hurt, didn't have time to pity himself, he jumped to his feet and hit the one who tormented his friend with the curse. He also realised that Ron had probably taken the Cruciatus upon himself to protect Harry. Now it was his turn to defend his friend, who was trying to collect himself, sitting on the ground and trembling in pain. However, Ron quickly returned into the fight. And they were winning. One of the Death Eaters had already disapparated, and the other one followed. Only four of them remained, including Medea, who was holding her head in her hands after the damage Severus had caused. Harry stupefied the one she used as a human shield. She was unprotected now. The fight began between them one-on-one. Medea couldn't lose. Her Lord ordered her to kill Harry Potter and she couldn't fail him. Harry couldn't lose. He despised the bitch for everything she'd done to them, for everything she'd done to Draco. He didn't even know if Draco was still alive... The pain he felt was so great and deep that it threatened to consume him, but, instead, he wreaked all of it on the bitch. If she'd taken away the meaning of his life, which Draco and their baby had become, he didn't have to be cautious anymore, he had to destroy her, even if it meant losing his own life. She was agile and quick, but so was Harry. Soon she started to weaken under the fire of his green, piercing eyes and his desperate attacks. She was wounded with many kinds of curses, including Sectumsempra, and it put her on her knees. She was losing blood profusely. Harry was breathing heavily and gave himself a little break; however, he noticed that she tore the earring out of her earlobe. He realised that the earring was a portkey. She tried to disapparate! No, there was no way he would let this monster escape! He wounded her hand, and the earring fell on the ground and rolled away. When he saw her trying to pick up her wand, probably for the last desperate attack as if she was a cornered rat, he didn't let her. Growling in rage, he grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. He wanted her to pay. She had to pay. He felt his magic coming out of his very being, like a part of his soul, and trying to break through her eyes. The power was devastating and murderously vindictive. At first it looked like an eye-fight he knew he just couldn't lose, but he felt that it was more than that. She had to suffer. He saw her eyes widened in shock before he felt himself pushing through those eyes. He heard the scraps of her last thoughts: 'Not just a young man... Underestimated...' The unbelievable agony lasted only a second. And then her mind broke down. At first he didn't know what he'd done, but soon he realised that he'd just shattered her mind, like a glass under the great pressure, breaking through all of her exceptionally strong barriers. He did it wandlessly and wordlessly, just directing his power straight into her mind. And he also knew that she was now as good as a vegetable. The one, who'd made Draco and him suffer so much, was just a drooling nonentity now. Maybe Snape, who had caused her some damage, while she'd been in Harry's mind, weakened her. Harry didn't know. She kept sitting on the floor in her now eternal catatonic immobility and indifference. Two of the Death Eaters escaped. One of them was seriously injured by Snape. Many other were immobilised or unconscious, some were dead. Wasting no time, Harry and his companions moved into the chamber to Draco. Medea had been wrong, Draco was alive. Ron sat down on the floor in the middle of the chamber and tried to recover his breath. At the same time he was cautious and held his wand in his hand, in case someone would apparate and try to attack again. Hermione hurried to him, leaving Draco under the care of Harry and their ex-professor.

     When Draco saw Harry and Severus kneeling next to him with his hazy eyes, he sat up with great efforts and pain. Severus was about to say that it was better for him not to move, but the violently trembling boy grabbed the man's robes in the front with his injured, but bandaged hands, as if holding on to his dear life. Seeing Draco shocked, sitting in the puddle of his own blood was more than enough to make Harry's mind swim. It was unthinkable and bloodcurdling sight.

"He's dead... He's not moving... I knew they wouldn't leave me alone... Now they've taken... everything from me... I want to go home! Please, take me home..." Draco whispered desolately, forcing out every word and clinging onto a man. He was choking on his sobs, but he was so shocked, that tears couldn't escape; his eyes were dry, though red. He didn't want anyone to see him; he wanted to hide, even if his only option now was Severus' robes. He wanted to hide and to be left alone, like a dying animal. Harry was pressing himself to the blonde's back, holding him with both arms, and weeping violently, unable to make a sound though, and feeling very much like he was sitting on the ruins of his own world, desperately holding in his arms the last that still remained. Meanwhile, Severus scanned Draco quickly.

"Draco, he's not dead. His heart is beating. But... Are these contractions?" he asked in the process of examination, trying to stay calm. Someone had to.

"I don't know... Home!" Draco cried out in the end, shuddering with his entire body. Severus' spell revealed the chain with a shackle around Draco's ankle, which wouldn't let them disapparate with him, and he removed it.

"Right, go. We'll take care of everything. Father and his men are going to be here anytime soon," Ron assured. Hermione squeezed his hand with her own, weeping, as she couldn't look at the scene that was happening in front of her.

"We're going to disapparate," Severus warned Draco quietly. "Hold on to me. Deep breaths. Potter, hold him still."

     The apparition was hard for Draco, irritating his aching nerves. They apparated very close to their home.

"Take him upstairs, I'm going to firecall Pomfrey," Snape commanded. Harry picked up half-conscious Draco in his arms, hardly feeling his weight. Once they entered the house, he brought the blond into the bedroom and put him down very carefully. He put his hand on Draco's belly, but, unconsciously, the blond pushed it away with his very weak, trembling hand. Madam Pomfrey and Snape entered the room very soon. The woman looked upset. Obviously, Snape had already explained her the situation.

     Wasting no time, she approached Draco and looked into his eyes, lifting his eyelids with her fingertips, and then started to cast the scanning spells. She examined him thoroughly to reveal even the slightest damage. When she finished with the scanning and healing spells, she gave him some potions, forcing him to swallow them with the help of the spell. She tended all his wounds carefully. Together she and Harry changed his clothes into pyjamas, after she'd cleaned his body. And, in the end, they turned him on his side and covered him with the warm blanket.

"He's back... The Dark Lord is back..." he moaned weakly, without opening his eyes. His very pale and purplish lips hardly moved as he tried to say something else, but soon gave up. Harry and Severus exchanged glances. Harry squeezed the blonde's hand very gently. It was cold, so he pulled the blanket up to Draco's neck, hiding both cold hands under it.

"Let him rest and keep him warm," Pomfrey said. Three of them left the room.

"So?" Severus asked her. She sighed.

"Shock, mild heart attack... Right now he's also experiencing the aftermaths of the blood loss and Cruciatus. There's nerve damage. Fortunately, there's no threat to his life now, but I have to watch him closely, at the very least, for a week. He'll be sleeping for some time, he needs it."

"And the baby?" Harry asked quietly, almost interrupting her.

"The damage is minor. In fact, Draco has taken most of the damage. Baby's nervous system has, thankfully, withstood the torture, and there's no brain damage. But, of course, it was an ordeal for him, too. They both need to be checked all the time to prevent any possible complications."

"Draco had contractions," Severus said.

"False contractions," she corrected. "I subdued them, just in case. They were certainly induced by Cruciatus, but he wasn't in labour, at any rate. I'll be back in two hours to see how he responds to healing and to give him some more potions. Firecall me anytime, in case you notice anything suspicious in his state."

"Thank you," Harry whispered and returned to the bedroom. He took a shower quickly and changed his clothes, doing everything automatically. Then he lay behind Draco's back and wrapped his arms around him carefully. The blond was sleeping, but Harry couldn't stop concentrating on his every breath, so afraid to lose him that the painful anxiety inside seemed to never let him go. It was too much...

     Draco had been sleeping for more than twelve hours already. At first his sleep had been deep and calm, but then, time and again, he was writhing slightly or calling his mother quietly, but heartbrokenly in his sleep. It saddened Harry to no end. Every time it was happening, he was caressing his hair soothingly or taking Draco's hand in his and pressed it against the blonde's belly, so Draco could feel the baby, even if he could feel him inside anyway, so Harry wasn't quite sure why he was doing it. Sometimes Draco was shivering slightly or his muscles tensed uncontrollably. Madam Pomfrey, who'd visited several times already, said that it was typical after what he'd endured.

    When, once again, sleeping Draco called his mum, Harry, who hadn't slept and eaten for a long time in addition, finally broke down and sobbed into the pillow for hours.

     The awakening was slow; it took time to open his eyes and see where he was. He was home, in his bed... Harry's arms were holding him tightly and possessively, making it almost impossible to move. In fact, he was literally wrapped up in Harry. When Draco tried to turn to face him, the arms tightened even more. Still, he managed to turn, even if it caused him pain to move. He scrutinised his sleeping lover's red, swollen eyelids and his still wet eyelashes. Suddenly the eyes, that had shed so many tears not long ago, opened, and they looked startled at first. But then Harry sighed. He couldn't even pay attention that his arm, that was under the blond, had fallen asleep.

"Draco..." he whispered. The blond couldn't answer. Instead, he buried his face in Harry's neck. It was a relief to feel baby's movement inside. Severus had been right, saying that the child was alive. He hadn't said it only to comfort Draco with lies. His son had survived... Draco didn't want to think about what had happened; he wasn't ready. His mind was still a little dim, his body was aching, so he decided that it was best to let himself rest and save all questions and concerns for later, for his own and baby's good. Harry's warmth and closeness made him fall asleep again.

     Madam Pomfrey visited several times a day to examine and heal Draco, who was apathetic and suffered from neuralgia silently, or just asleep.

"You may feel a little strange," she told him once. She had already been there in the room as he awoke. Indeed, something felt wrong about his child. "I turned your baby for the time, to unburden your lungs and ribs. He lies in a sideways position; horizontally, in other words. Don't worry about it; I'll be able to turn him head down. Do you feel comfortable like this?"

"More or less..." he replied. Every time she visited, he was afraid that she would recommend cutting the baby out from him, as he was too weak to carry him any longer. But she never told anything like that. Instead, she did her best to heal him, to make it possible for him to bear at full term. It was comforting, no matter what.

     Both Draco and Harry had withdrawn into themselves after what had happened. In a few days, however, it became better. Draco was even eating almost normally, even if he had to force himself. But Harry couldn't calm down, never forgetting that the tragedy had happened because of him. It tormented him every day, every time he was looking at Draco. He and their baby had survived, but it had been a close call. Harry had never wanted anyone to get involved in his troubles, but people he loved always suffered because of him. He couldn't keep silence about it any longer. Draco seemed to feel and look better, so Harry decided to tell him what he'd been holding back for a week.

"You were right. You were right, Draco," he said quietly when he thought, he'd picked the right moment. "And I was stubborn. All I wanted was to be with you, to be happy, to make you happy, to have a family. And look what..." he sounded like he choked on his words, so he fell silent for a few moments. "I was selfish and... self-asserted when I thought that I could protect you. What a high-flown statement... I failed you. I thought I was free of the curse, but it seems I'll never be free from another one..."

"Harry, no..."

"It's my curse: people I love always suffer... or die." Harry tried to keep his voice cold. "I can't let it happen to you. Not to you... Maybe it would be better for you if I left," he said, still quietly, and lowered his eyes in sorrow.

"What?!" Draco exclaimed with panic, fear and anger in his eyes. The hurt was almost physical, though it could still have been the aftermaths of the damage.

"No, no! Listen to me. Please. I don't know how to live without you, but putting your life in danger is worse. We don't know how many 'medeas' are still out there. I don't know... It's both selfish to leave and to stay. So... I leave it up to you. I want you to do what is best for you and for the baby." A tear ran down his face.

"Fuck you, Harry!" the blond fired up, nearly crying. "You seemed to be so determined to be with me and now you're going to leave me at the very first difficulties! I won't let you treat me like this, even if the Dark Lord is still alive! You can't just come back whenever you want and then just leave again! I won't let you..."

"Tell me, what would you do if you were me?" Harry asked, realising that he'd just been cruel. He didn't want to make Draco end up with the breakdown. He lost heart.

"I would probably leave," Draco nodded, trembling as he tried to take his emotions under control. He knew that if Harry left him again, he'd simply go mad with grief. "Now tell me, would you let me go in that case; if you were me?"

"Never..."

"Then stop doing this to me; I would very much appreciate that. Or leave right now if this is what you want! Leave! Run! But I want you to know that if you leave, you will never see us again. I won't allow this! This time, be sure of that, Harry!" the blond warned with the eyes full of tears. Was everything falling apart again? Had their relationship been that weak and fragile? Harry buried his face into Draco's thighs, covered with blanket, and sobbed. He knew he had no right to break now. He knew that Draco needed him to be strong now; he was supposed to be strong, but he couldn't. 'I ruin everything...'

     It got better when he'd had a good cry and Draco's soothing hand on the back of his head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to be harsh on you again," he said quietly when he was already calm.

"Don't be sorry. Just think before you say something like that next time," Draco sighed. Harry lay down under the blanket next to his love and they were just lying there in each other's arms.

"And Harry..." The blond said suddenly with calm voice.

"Huh?"

"Tomorrow tell Pomfrey about all the injuries you have, including that huge burn on your arm. Do it or I will; just to embarrass you."

"Oh... All right. It's... it's okay, it's healing already. You don't have to worry about it."

"I saw it when you were changing your clothes today, and it looks horrendous. You haven't taken care of it at all. I think it amounts to hurting yourself intentionally."

"It's not like that. I... I promise I'll take care about it."

"I hope so..."

     In the morning Harry woke up with his arm around the blonde's tummy, and the first thing he felt was baby's kicking.

"Good morning you too, little one," Harry smiled sleepily. He started to rub the side of the belly soothingly to make the baby stop his antics and let Draco sleep a little more. But the frolic didn't stop. Harry pulled the blanket down and Draco's nightshirt up carefully. At first he froze when he saw a bulge on the side of the belly. The bulge moved a little, then disappeared, but then it appeared again. Baby's foot... He'd never seen anything like this before, but now he could; probably, because Pomfrey had changed the baby's position. Harry knew that physically Draco felt much better like this, because the baby wasn't tormenting his ribs and lungs anymore with his little legs, but, on the other hand, the blond felt that it wasn't right and hoped that Pomfrey would turn the baby in the right position soon. Harry touched the foot with his fingers and it retreated, but then appeared again. Embracing Draco, he was kissing or just touching the bulge. It seemed all his purport of existence was here, in this bed. Draco was baby's home; his sanctuary, where the little one was safe (if Draco was safe), warm and loved. He was the child's source of everything he needed to live. Draco was the baby's entire world! Sometimes Harry had even been a tiny bit jealous because of their closeness, but now he really felt that he was a part of it. It was a miracle for him that he could touch his son's feet (and the baby could obviously feel it, too) through Draco's skin and muscles. He was playing with his son, who wasn't even born yet; it felt very odd and exciting. But then Draco mumbled something in his sleep, displeased that Harry was poking his side and the baby was trying to escape through that side, so he slowly turned on his other one. The baby calmed down quickly. Probably he just wanted Draco to change his position, feeling uncomfortable.

"Now I see what it was all about," Harry whispered and touched the belly with his lips.

   When there was a knocking at the door of the bedroom, Draco woke up. Harry opened the door and was a little surprised to see Ron and Snape.

"Hi, Harry. We have to talk," the redhead said.

"What is it?" Draco asked out of the room, still in bed. He didn't want to remain uninformed.

"All right. Draco deserves to hear it, too," Snape sighed. They all entered the room.

"We have some news about Medea Levington," Ron said. Draco shivered a little, hearing the name. Instinctively he pulled up the blanket a little, like a child, who'd just been told that there was a monster under his bed. "My dad is in charge with this case. Well, we found out that she wasn't just crazy. Voldemort..." The name still sounded uncomfortable. "Influenced her mind somehow. It's interesting and strange, because she was a Legilimens and Occlumens, and she was very gifted in everything about protecting, reading or ruining someone's mind."

"In other words," Snape intervened. "The Dark Lord's magic damaged her mentally and she just thought up what was missing. Her 'Lord' was just a product of her twisted mind. Levington even thought she could feel her Dark Mark; and she heard voices, saw visions. However, it was all in her head. And she also wasn't a horcrux," he assured his godson, who, as he knew, hadn't been sure about all of it, therefore concerned. "In order to prevent the Aurors from bothering you, I gained a permission of Mr Weasley Senior to correct some of her damaged memories. I destroyed everything she knew about you or your condition."

"Thank you," Draco said sincerely. "So.., there's no Dark Lord? Are you sure?" he asked. Last night he'd seen a dream about someone, knocking at the front door of their home. Draco had appeared to be alone in the entire house. The knocking had been heard throughout it; everywhere. The blond had opened the door once he'd reached it, and he'd seen the Dark Lord on the threshold. The freak had asked Draco to come with him wordlessly, just calling him with the gesture of his hand. And Draco had only been shaking his head in dread.

"We are sure," Ron answered. "And she won't do anything to you, Harry or anybody else. She's more like a plant now than a human."

"Why?" the blond asked.

"I'll tell you later," Harry promised.

"What kind of plant: something like a devil's snare or like a... camomile?" Draco asked him quietly, while Ron and Severus told something to each other on the subject of the case. Harry chuckled.

"What?" Ron asked him, interrupting his conversation with Snape.

"Nothing," Harry replied and smiled at his beloved.

     This day Severus removed the bandages from Draco's hands and forearms and it was the first time he did it while his godson was awake. Usually he preferred not to cause Draco any unnecessary distress, if it was avoidable, but he and Pomfrey had already stopped giving him calming and sleeping potions, so the man wouldn't be able to make his actions go unnoticed anyway. All the more so, the injuries were closing up quite well; they were still hurting a little, tender and they felt tightened, as well as the one across his jaw line. But they had already started to itch, and Severus warned the boy not to scratch them. He promised to make scars as undistinguished as possible. For now he just tended the injuries, as he'd usually done lately, applying the healing salve, which also lessened the itching, to Draco's relief. In the end, the man bandaged his arms again. Before leaving, he received a playful tug at his sleeve and shook his head with feign reproach. Draco had been doing it sometimes... since the second up to the fifth year of his life, to attract the man's attention to his grey eyes, which had been looking up at him almost demandingly, and then to ask or say something, when he'd been sure that the man had been listening to him very carefully; or to persuade him to lift him up in his arms. It seemed Draco hadn't forgotten about it. The youth gave the older wizard a small smile to confirm that, indeed, he hadn't.

     Draco's mood became even better, appreciably, when he got Goyle's letter. As promised, there were plenty of wedding pictures, and his friend looked a little too serious, but the letter itself consisted of only one sentence:

'Hello, Draco,

     The wedding cake was the only fun.'

     Draco laughed so hard that he was afraid that his baby would surely come out of his side. It was a happy sound and Harry smiled when he heard it coming out of their bedroom, while he was taking a bath.

     Surprisingly, Draco was holding quite well after what had happened. He knew that his anguish upset Harry and worried Severus as well. Only once, when no one else saw him, Draco cried, thinking what he would have done if his baby had really died. He didn't even care if he himself wasn't quite all right; at least, Pomfrey insisted that he had to stay in bed most of the time and she couldn't have said it without reason. But he followed her recommendation, allowing Harry, Severus and Florie to take care of him. He also had a fear of leaving the house, especially frightening was the thought of crossing the wards that protected it, but, since he wasn't really allowed to stay on foot more than it was very necessary, it didn't disturb him too much so far. Knowing about his fear, somehow, and trying to make his mood better, Florie made him a present; it was a crystal sphere, she'd found in the attic, which allowed seeing the house and its surroundings in miniature in real time, so he could see everything and everyone around the house, even at some distance from the wards. She, actually, succeeded to make him smile. The thing was beautiful and he also could see when Harry was coming back home, when he wasn't using floo to get home, of course. He could also see Longbottom, working in the garden, or Severus when the man was taking breaks and went out to have some air.

     At first Harry had been cancelling his Auror training, but then he'd started to visit the most important lessons, still too worried to leave Draco. Harry was deeply concerned about him, especially when the blond was calling his mother in his sleep. He knew that it didn't let Draco go, and he still suffered about the way he'd lost Narcissa. He'd even wept once in his sleep. Perhaps, it was just happening in the light of recent events. The wound was deep and the time didn't seem even to start healing it. Harry could imagine what it was like to see the mother's murder, the death of the closest person; but to spend days near her dead body, delirious with grief, as it had happened to Draco... It was unthinkably cruel. Harry had been too little when his mother had died to be able to remember it. And his parents, at least, had been buried properly. Draco's mum hadn't even been found.

     Very opportunely he discovered a handkerchief in his pocket with the old stains of Draco's blood, a handkerchief that Harry had taken away from Snape and put it into his pocket without thinking. An idea crossed his mind, but he wasn't sure if it was really a good time for it. Nevertheless, he knew it was the right thing to do. To encourage himself, he took one of the pictures from Draco's bedside table. Baby Draco was in Narcissa's arms, holding the strand of her hair in his very small, delicate hand... The blond always had her pictures close. Harry put the photograph back. It was time to do something, at last.

     Someone was firecalling, and Draco tore himself away from his late breakfast. At first he had no doubts that it was Harry (who else could firecall, using the fireplace in Draco's sitting room?), so, as quickly as he could, he approached the fireplace with his mouth still full, - the thing he hardly ever allowed himself with his love to the proper table manners. But when he reached the fireplace and answered, he saw Granger's face.

"Oh... Draco. Good afternoon. Could you let me in?" she asked. He nodded; his mouth was still too busy with chewing to answer to her greetings properly. She flooed in several seconds later when he returned at the table. He took a sip of tea to wash the food down.

"How do you feel?" she asked, finding him looking tired.

"Fine," he shrugged. "If I'm sitting or, even better, lying," he added, sighing. He showed her to the armchair in front of him, inviting her to sit down, which she did, nodding gratefully.

"Sorry for intruding," she said, feeling a little uncomfortable, as she didn't know how he felt about her presence in his home. "I just wanted to talk to Harry."

"I thought he was having lessons with your fiancé. Didn't you know?"

"No, their today's lessons start in two hours."

"Interesting," Draco narrowed his eyes, looking puzzled. Had Harry lied to him when he'd said he was going to study, leaving early this morning? Where was he then? He frowned a little, thoughtful and confused, even though he tried to keep a blank expression on his face, but Hermione quickly realised that she'd probably given Harry away somehow and made Draco worry in addition.

"Oh... Today's Thursday, isn't it?" she gasped a little, feigning a sudden realisation of something and making up a story on the way. He nodded, without looking at her. "I forgot he told me that he was going to take some additional lessons, because he missed two weeks or so. He just wants to catch up with the others. The Auror training is pretty hard," she shrugged, covertly studying Draco's expression to see if he believed her 'noble lie'. He seemingly relaxed, to her relief. She wondered where Harry really was and hoped that her lies wouldn't turn out badly. The blond seemed to be satisfied with her explanation and returned to his breakfast, which consisted of two toasts with a thin layer of honey, yoghurt in a small cut-glass bowl, sliced fruits and peppermint tea.

"Tea? Coffee? Or anything else?" he offered almost absentmindedly, not noticing that she already intended to get up, say goodbye and leave. He didn't want to be inhospitable towards Harry's friends, especially towards those that had taken part in his rescue.

"Just tea, please," she replied, changing her mind about leaving so soon. Florie quickly appeared to serve her young master's guest.

     Hermione took a sip of a wonderful-smelling tea and smiled a little, looking at Draco's belly. He didn't seem to notice, eating unhurriedly.

"Harry seems to be thrilled about the idea of having son. Though... to be honest, I think he would've been just as happy about a baby daughter," Hermione finally said. When she'd seen Draco broken, shocked, covered in blood and assured that their baby had died, she'd thought that Harry's happiness had ended (too soon after it had begun) and felt heartbroken for both of them. She was relieved to see that Draco looked mostly fine, aside from looking tired. "And what's your opinion?" she asked curiously.

"Does my opinion matter? He's a boy," Draco replied, softly looking down at his belly.

"Did you think about it when you still didn't know about your baby's gender?"

"No, not really. I didn't really care." he shrugged. But then he added: "I just think... it would be harder to raise a daughter. I suppose there are things a girl wouldn't feel comfortable to share with her father and... since there'd be no woman to talk to, she'd probably feel somehow..."

"Awkward? Deprived of something?"

"Yes."

"Umm... Not necessarily; it depends on her relationship with her father. But I think I can see your point," Hermione nodded. "So... When is the supposed date of baby's birth? Harry only says 'soon' and nothing else."

"Pomfrey thinks it's going to happen any day between the fifteenth and twenty-fifth of October."

"Soon, indeed," she said with a small smile. She noted to herself that it was already the twenty-ninth of September.

     When Draco finished his breakfast, he got up with an effort to withdraw to his bedroom.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to lie down again," he sighed.

"Of course," Hermione said understandingly, placing an empty cup on a table. "I'll firecall Harry in the evening." And with this she flooed home.

"How do you feel today?" Harry asked him the very next day, seeing that Draco seemed to be more or less all right, and didn't look as tired as usually.

"Better," Draco replied. He took Harry's hands in his and pressed them to the sides of his own face. The brunet kissed his lover's lips, giving himself a small pause before he started to speak again:

"I have something for you."

"A present?" the blond livened up a little.

"Not quite. No... I don't want to put it like that. No," Harry shook his head.

"I'm intrigued."

"I ordered a carriage. Madam Pomfrey said it wouldn't be good for you to apparate, but she allowed me to take you to the short trip. It won't take long; just several hours."

"But where are we going?"

"You'll see. Just tell me when you're ready."

"All right, give me thirty minutes," Draco sighed, realising that there was no way he could make Harry tell him what was going on. Just in case, he put on one of his best suits, which, like most of his clothes, had been altered to a size of his pregnant body, more or less. He put on a long, warm cloak over the suit.

     Leaving the house was an ordeal for Draco. He felt fear, once he stepped over the threshold. But Harry was there with him, holding his hand and gently rubbing it between his own palms soothingly. Near the house Draco saw a covered carriage, drawn by two... thestrals. It was the first time he was seeing the winged, skeletal horses with his own eyes, even if he'd been travelling in carriages hundreds of times when he was younger. He knew that only those, who'd seen death, could see thestrals, and, Merlin knew, Draco had seen death many times and far too close to remain unscarred. Harry traced the look of Draco's eyes and rubbed his hand again. He'd always been able to see those creatures, since the first time he'd seen them on the way to Hogwarts. He helped Draco to get into the carriage. The blond sat down, wrapping himself up in his cloak to hide his belly, even if the carriage was covered.

     Soon they set out and the trip was actually pleasant. Both youths were looking at the forest, fields and houses in the distance. It seemed very peaceful, so even Draco relaxed very soon. He even dozed off for half an hour, resting his head on Harry's shoulder, as the soft rocking of the carriage made him languid.

     The way took almost three hours. Draco was a little perplexed when they stopped somewhere in the middle of the cemetery. He still didn't ask anything, especially seeing that Harry was a bit confused about the way to tell Draco whatever he had in mind, so the blond just followed him, once Harry had helped him to get out of the carriage. They approached the old dark-grey stone building with large, double-wing, black, barred door.

"Blacks' family crypts? I've been here before," Draco said. Harry didn't answer. He touched the door and it opened for them right away, because Harry was an heir of Blacks. Draco would have entered just as easily if he'd been alone, since he was Blacks' descendant. Once they were inside, they went downstairs. Harry lighted up all the braziers on the stone walls with the single move of his wand. There were two floors of the crypt, but they moved to the lower floor and turned to the left. For almost ten minutes they were walking past burial vaults of Draco's many ancestors. But Harry led Draco to one particular vault, and stopped, once they reached it. There was a massive marble coffin with the beautiful ornament on its sides. Two vases, also made of marble, beautifully decorated with amethysts and onyxes, stood on each side of the coffin and were full of fresh roses. The undying magical fire burned in the brazier, which was an elegant silver bowl and was placed on top of the coffin. And then Draco's attention was captivated by the statue of the woman near the wall right behind the head of the coffin. The woman was dressed in a long dress and her hair was loose. She was beautiful, proud, graceful; and she looked like... his mother. He lowered his gaze just to see a silver square plate on the pedestal of the statue. 'Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) 1955-1998'. Draco gasped quietly. Harry's gentle hand touched his shoulder.

"She... Is she really here?" the blond whispered in shock.

"Yes," Harry nodded.

     Together with one of his tutors and the man's friend, who specialised in such things, he had taken part in a ritual, which required blood of the closest relative of the dead one, whose body had to be found. For that purpose they used Draco's blood on a handkerchief. But Harry had decided not to make her funeral, which had taken place only a day before, known. He'd only told Snape about it. At the end of the funeral Harry had sincerely asked Narcissa's forgiveness for all their misunderstandings. She'd, in fact, only cared about her family. Who could have blamed her for that? He'd also remembered and was ashamed of himself that he'd been a little jealous, when he was younger, seeing that Draco had truly been loved and protected by his mother, - something that Harry had never had in his conscious life, because his mother had sacrificed herself when he was too young. He'd asked forgiveness for that, too, and promised Narcissa to take care of her son and grandson as best as he could.

     Funeral was something too depressing, especially in this case as they had only found her remains - bones, gnawed by animals (he wasn't sure he would ever be able to tell Draco about it, even if the blond, most definitely, suspected something like that), though they'd collected every single part that remained of her. That was the reason he hadn't told Draco about it sooner, even if he still worried and wondered if that had been the right thing to do - not to let Draco present at his mum's funeral. He also knew that he'd probably had to wait with that; the day of birth of their baby was approaching, and he didn't want to give Draco any reason to suffer, especially after what had happened not long ago; but, perhaps, it would give Draco some peace and help him, at least, to start to overcome his loss now that he had a place to visit, to revere her memory and mourn properly.

"I didn't want to upset you," he said, seeing his love's eyes full of tears.

"No... It's... It's important to me. She deserves it, she really does," the blond whispered, looking at Harry with the eternal gratitude in his eyes. A tear escaped. Tears were inevitable, Harry had known it, but it seemed to him that, in some way, it was a tear of relief. Draco's mother could finally rest in peace.

"I know. I know, Draco," Harry said and held him in his arms.

     And then he left Draco alone in his mum's burial vault for some time and went to visit Sirius'. The man's body wasn't there in the coffin, there was no body left at all, of course, but he deserved to have, at least, a memorial.

"Hi, Padfoot. It's been a long. Sorry..." Harry said. He stayed there for some time, thinking about his godfather and hoping that the man could feel that he was remembered.

     He returned to Draco. The blond was kneeling in front of Narcissa's coffin, pressing his cheek to it. He wasn't crying, but he looked thoughtful. And then he turned his face to Harry.

"Are you tired?" the brunet asked.

"A little," Draco nodded.

"Let's go home," Harry said, helping Draco to get up.

     Nothing was said on the way home, but they were holding hands and never let go until they were in the bedroom. Harry helped Draco to undress; they took a bath, ate their dinner and soon were in bed. Harry decided to lie down, too, even though it was only an early evening.

"Thank you," Draco murmured softly and drowsily, falling asleep.

"...Love you," Harry whispered and kissed the soft lips, which returned the kiss sleepily. Then he kissed the side Draco's round tummy; precisely, the place, where baby's head supposedly was.

     Draco's sleep was finally peaceful, and now Harry knew that he'd really done the right thing. He'd finally done something very worthy for his beloved one, not just uselessly dreamed about the way he could just 'take away' Draco's pain and sorrow, which was literally sewed into his soul. He couldn't sleep, thinking about it and looking at his sleeping love, gently caressing the blond hair with his fingers.
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To Find The Missing Lifeline