Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45316 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-Ch8
- 9-Ch9
- 10-Ch10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-Ch19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-Ch22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-CH25
- 26-CH26
- 27-CH27
- 28-CH28
- 29-CH29
- 30-CH30
- 31-CH31
- 32-CH32
- 33-CH33
- 34-CH34
- 35-CH35
- 36-CH36
- 37-CH37
- 38-CH38
- 39-CH39
- 40-CH40
- 41-Ch41
- 42-Ch42
- 43-Ch43
- 44-Ch44
- 45-Ch45
- 46-Ch46
- 47-Ch47
- 48-Ch48
- 49-Ch49
- 50-Ch50 *End Part 1*
- 51-Ch51
- 52-Ch52
- 53-Ch53
- 54-Ch54
- 55-Ch55
- 56-CH56
- 57-CH57
- 58-CH58
- 59-CH59
- 60-CH60
- 61-CH61
- 62-CH62
- 63-CH63
- 64-CH64
- 65-CH65
- 66-CH66
- 67-CH67 *New 6/6/2015*
- 68-CH68
- 69-CH69
- 23
- 24
- 25
^___^ La, I think some people will be happy with this one. ~pokes for reviews~
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

CH24

Sucked into the floo network, his already battered body jolted against loose bricks until he was in such a daze it took a few minutes to realize he had stopped and was laying curled up on the parlor floor at Grimmauld Place. He moved to sit up but stopped when his limbs protested. His hiss of pain was halted by a sudden sneezing fit that left him doubled over, clutching his aching ribs. From this angle he had a good view of the thick layer of dust covering the wooden floor and—
Harry frowned, collecting his strength enough to inspect the still moist blood on the floor. He followed the streaked wood until his eyes fell upon a shadowed form crumpled on the floor. Oh Hell! With a flash of understanding, he realized that he must have slammed into this person when he had arrived unexpectedly through the floo. He didn’t seem to be moving… What if he had killed him? Shit. Ignoring his aching body, Harry crawled over to the form swathed in dark robes with hopes of helping the unfortunate person. Thick heavy hands covered in rough calluses and stained permanently with blood halted him. There was something off about it… Who the hell was he?
Hastily digging into his pocket, he scrambled for his wand and drew himself up to his knees. The voices were hushed, curious as he was, as he clumsily moved towards the man who was emanating a sickly aura of cruelty and death. Hesitantly, he leaned over to peer into the shadows hiding the man’s face. Movement from the darkness caught his attention and with a gasp he instinctively turned, crouching low to make himself a smaller target.
Frozen, his breath caught in his throat. For a long moment he stared at the wraithlike being who was watching him guardedly in return. Blinking, Harry tentatively looked away, choosing instead to return to his earlier curiosity.
With a fresh wave of foreboding he bent over the prone form, finally able to see the horribly mangled features covered in blood. Yelping, he jumped from the unconscious man as if burned and used his legs to push himself backwards on the floor until his back was pressed against the wall. He stayed like that until his breathing calmed, as did his whirling thoughts.
He had been abandoned again. Why were his friends never there?
Dragging himself to his feet, he wearily raised his wand, ropes shooting from the tip to bind the unconscious Death Eater. Ignoring the urge to find a soft bed to crawl into and forget everything he had seen tonight, Harry turned to the shadows where a too familiar rival sat shivering; whether from cold or from fear, he knew not, but he had a feeling it was both.
Stumbling across the room, he couldn’t help but notice the way Malfoy adverted his previously intent gaze and tensed at his proximity. He couldn’t really blame him given the situations. Sinking to his knees, he reached up, ignoring the way the pale hands flinched from his touch. Fighting off the wave of weariness and the constant ache of pain that only seemed to be growing, he put all his concentration into his task. The ropes were well tied and the knots complicated and unyielding to magic. He kept silent, knowing it was all that kept the pale fae from emotionally falling apart. The rope give a little under his fingers and he focused on the spot, pulling tenaciously. Accidentally his finger brushed against the raw skin of Draco’s wrist but the boy gave no sign of feeling it.
Harry flicked his gaze to the boy’s face inches from his own. Malfoy had shut his eyes as if to will reality away. This close, Harry could see the dried tears that streaked his fair face and small red spots where blood had splattered on his chin and cheek. Fresh bruises were starting to appear under the streaks of dust, marring the bright flesh. He noted with some relief that Malfoy had stopped shaking uncontrollably, although a random tremor still rocked him ever so often.
He turned back up to where his fingers still tirelessly pulled at the heavy rope. Another slip and he gained more leeway, although it still wasn’t much. The voices were starting to buzz again; he was running out of time. Still working, he shifted so his arms rested against the wall and released some of the ache.
The pain was building again. Like the inescapable waves of the ocean, Harry could feel it approaching, eager to break and drag him into hell again. Breathing deeply, he remained steady, determined to free the bound wrists before he was lost to the pain. The rope became the center of all his focus; the smell, the tight loops, the way the splintery fibers bit into his raw fingers and caught at his broken nails. His hands were slippery with sweat and numb with pain.
Pain.
He clenched his teeth, tearing at the ropes frantically. He could feel Malfoy shift below him. Hot air forced in calm intervals now ghosted over his neck and chin. He must have opened his eyes because Harry could feel the weight of them as he fought to preserve his focus. He wanted to calm Draco, reassure him that he wouldn’t fail, but when he opened his mouth the words were caught in his throat. Instead, a low gurgled whimper broke free. He hissed, redoubling his efforts, but his hands were shaking and the rope kept slipping from his grasp. It was burning, slicing through him.
With a cry he pulled away, stumbling to the ground in a heap. “Shit, shit, shit…” He cursed through gritted teeth, doing everything to keep his wits. Shuddering as he felt his organs shift; he hastily grabbed his hand-me-down T-shirt and yanked it over his head. With shaking hands, he carefully wrapped it around Draco’s narrow form, glad for once that Dudley’s cast offs were so large, for the shirt offered the pale boy a fair amount of coverage.
He met the frightened grey gaze. Forcing his throat to work, he managed a few broken words. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “It-it will be all right… j-just hold on.” Pain twisted his legs and he cried out. Gasping for breath, he grasped blindly for his wand on the gritty floor.
“P-Potter?” Draco cried softly, desperation clear in his voice. Opening his eyes, Harry caught the glint of fresh tears dripping from his sharp chin. He raised his wand, hand shaking. “Be strong.” He murmured, voice surprisingly steady as he found focus in the clouded grey. With a complicated wave and swish he cast the Fisus Protego charm, encasing the frightened boy in a magical shield. It was unique in the fact that both the one the charm was cast on, and the one who cast it, could break through the spell.
Doubling over, Harry thrust his shaking arm forward through the shield and left his wand resting in Malfoy’s lap, offering the boy some degree of defense and preserving the wand from falling into Death Eaters’ hands. With his last bit of strength he threw himself towards the fire, suffocating it with his hands and ash. Yes, it would prevent help from coming, but it would also keep Death Eaters from flooing in as well.
Unable to resist the roar of pain any longer, he sank to the floor, head resting on the dusty surface. His eyes were once again drawn to Draco’s teary grey. He saw fear and concern but also an inner strength burning in those depths.
It’ll be ok.
He wasn’t sure if he had spoken it aloud, or merely thought it, but Draco nodded at him and had made as to speak, but Harry couldn’t hear over his own screams of agony. His vision dimmed. The world had contracted down to every point of pain that sang in his body. He could feel it shifting, changing, breaking then mending… but into something different, strange. The concept of time was lost to him. He begged for the blackness of sleep, or even unconsciousness, but it never came. The voices called him back adamantly each time he was on the brink. He was aware of every cell and every cell was ablaze.
Through it all he felt the familiar gaze upon him. During the intervals, when he was left lungs burning for air as the pain faded for an instant, he desperately tried to find something to pull him out of the merciless cycle; something to anchor him to reality. He couldn’t see him, but he could feel the constant weight of those frightened eyes reaching for him, and he clung to that connection. With the mental equivalent of a child clutching his most trusted toy, Harry pulled comfort from Draco’s presence.

*******

He wasn’t sure when it started but the pain was fading again. Harry knew it would return, but like before, he had some time until then. But… something was wrong, he realized dully. The boy was afraid and angry and… there was someone else… someone of death and cruelty. The man was awake.
In his pained state he hadn’t thought of disarming the bound man, but now he wished he had. Magical ropes weren’t as much of a deterrent to a wizard compared to a normal muggle. The world was slowly coming back into focus. With every physical sense returning, he found it difficult to remain holding onto Draco’s presence. He could hear Macnair taunting Draco, threatening him. The world was getting brighter so Harry’s eyes could focus on the smug Death Eater leering down at the angry fae behind the shield. He couldn’t help the surge of grim satisfaction that he had thought to give Draco his shirt.
Huh… apparently threatening Narcissa Malfoy wasn’t a good idea because all fear had suddenly left Malfoy to be replaced with murderous rage. My, where had he learned all those eloquent curses? No, it didn’t seem likely Macnair would be getting Harry’s wand, or free run of Grimmauld Place, anytime soon at all. In fact, he was rather impressed with Draco’s show of courage. It was no secret that Malfoy was a coward, always backing the stronger side no matter how cruel their intentions were. He rarely initiated anything without his cronies there to back him up since the mere mention of pain tended to send the delicate boy running.
Obviously, something must have changed. Draco was definitely the dragon Voldemort had sent Macnair after in Harry’s vision. He must have refused Voldemort’s mark and run here for protection… but wasn’t he a little young yet? Maybe it had to do with his father’s imprisonment. What the hell could Draco have done to piss Voldemort off bad enough? If it wasn’t for the boy’s obvious fear and sincere behavior he might have considered it to be a trap after all. Malfoy had practically bit off half of Macnair’s cheek before he had even arrived and his tears and bruises were real. The thought was strangely heart warming. Not that he wouldn’t have saved the boy if he hadn’t… it was just nice to know he had the guts. Harry let his eyes fall shut and began to shift on the floor, releasing a low, deliberate moan.
Macnair and Draco both fell silent and turned to stare at Harry’s sleeping form. Harry gave another muffled whimper, his back arching off the ground while his hands streaked heavily on the dusty floor. By the furious way Draco was cursing, it had not gone unnoticed. Another point for Malfoy.
“Don’t you fucking touch him!” Draco roared, pulling unceasingly at his bonds and glaring piercing red eyes at Macnair’s back. Unfortunately the collar wrapped around his neck dulled the effect to only an annoying twinge.
Macnair laughed nastily as he walked towards Harry’s writhing body. He had thought the boy dead after the hours of unceasing screaming but it looked like he still had some life left in him. Enough to satisfy him anyways, since the Malfoy brat was being so uncooperative. If he played it right, he could use this as leverage to get the boy to drop his infuriating shield and allow him to be keyed into the wards. Potter and his wand were just an unexpected, yet very attractive, bonus. Hell, he’d have his reward long before he brought the treasures before his Master.
And what a treasure it was. Macnair drank in the sight of the boy-who-lived. His golden skin was littered with full-blossomed bruises and cuts. Unlike the Malfoy boy, who had only just gotten his first taste of pain, Potter’s form revealed an almost daily torture fest. Whoever had gotten their hands on him had left a beautiful picture of tears and screams behind.
He circled the sleeping boy, taking in his slender form. The too large jeans were riding low on his form, revealing taunt abs and sharp hipbones that swayed upward with each ragged breath. A moan pulled his attention up, pausing on darkened nipples before stopping at bruised, parted lips. Thick lashes swept the curves of his cheeks and soft hair fell disheveled in a dark halo, completing the exquisite site. A fallen angel and he would be the one to break him… drown him in his own blood… but not before he had personally marked every inch of his untouched skin with his own hands. The images sent shivers of desire through him and unheedingly he stepped forward.
It was the smile that gave him pause, a dark twist to the lush lips. The lashes fluttered to reveal laughing green eyes. He thought to step back, to draw his wand, but it was too late. The speed was beyond human when an arm shot out and hand wrapped tightly around his leg… too tight. He could feel the strength in the fragile looking fingers that sunk deep into the flesh of his leg. In horrified shock, he stared as his flesh split and the fingers tore through tendons and muscles, blood and flesh oozing from his leg. A twist of the wrist caused his leg to collapse, bone piercing through his skin where the hand had snapped it in half. Terror stricken, he found his voice as the pain seeped its way to his shock addled brain.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Oh god— Please! PLEAAAS—!”
Annoyed by the babbling screams, Harry pushed Macnair away, sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening crack. The noise immediately ceased.
Sighing, Harry fell back down again. The weariness was approaching, heralding him towards sleep. He allowed himself a few minutes of rest before his mind started filling with questions. Where the hell was the Order? He couldn’t sense anyone else in the house… had they gone to Privet Drive already? The wards must have alerted them of a problem. The Ministry knew he had used underage magic in a muggle residence; someone must have investigated by now. If anything, someone must have noticed the houses collapsing, right?
He had ordered Dudley to stay in the house. If it had fallen like the others…
There was no point thinking about it until he was sure. Yehl may have saved them. Yehl may have died… So many dead. He bit his lip hard and turned to his more pressing problem: Malfoy.
To be perfectly honest, he was worried the boy was terrified beyond rational thought after what Harry had just done. He had just… with his bare hands… He could have been stepping on an ant for all it had taken. For some reason the possibility of being a source of fear sent a pain through him that was beyond anything he had felt that week. He closed his eyes and focused on the other’s ragged breathing. Not until the breathing had calmed for a full five minutes, did Harry sit up again.
He stared at his bloodied hand for some time before decidedly wiping it on the floor. The dust was a welcome substitute. Draco’s eyes were piercing into him but he refused to acknowledge the other yet. Instead he got unsteadily to his feet. He felt odd, off balanced. He was too far away from the ground, he realized, as he looked down. So that’s what they meant by growing pains. After a few shaky steps, his tired knees gave out and he fell with a curse. Damn, Vernon had spent a lot of his time beating him. Undaunted, he crawled the rest of the way to Macnair’s body. He was relieved to see he was breathing, albeit shallowly. Not that he cared himself; personally he felt the Death Eater deserved nothing better than a slow, painful death. It might keep others from freaking out too much if he hadn’t actually killed him… specifically a silver haired fae who had yet to stop staring at him silently.
Quickly, Harry searched the layers of rumpled clothes until he found the two wands they concealed. Immediately he snapped the large oak wand that resonated malice; ironically the core held a hippogriff’s tail hair. He threw the pieces into the cold fire hearth and slowly searched the items on the brick shelf built into the wall. An empty picture frame caught his eye and he turned it to find the script H. Nest was already shining in red. So the Order had gone for him. Warmth spread through him and a smile threatened to break loose. He chided himself at the involuntary feeling. If they had been there in the first place, Aunt Petunia wouldn’t be on the brink of death. …And Malfoy would have been forced to face Macnair alone.
He placed the frame back down and slowly made his way over to Draco. At the edge of the shield he stopped and sat. If he wished, he could have passed through the barrier or just as easily removed it, but he preferred to leave the decision to Malfoy. It was the least he could do.
They sat in silence; Harry with his head bowed low, staring at his hands that held Malfoy’s wand, and Draco staring blatantly at Harry as he tried to read something in his form. Eventually Draco seemed satisfied in what he found and spoke.
“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”
Surprised by the question, Harry finally met his gaze. He flinched at Draco’s audible gasp when their eyes met, and looked away before the boy could see the pain in his. Licking his lips, he tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse squeak. His throat felt raw and sharp, like each deep breath was sandpaper to the sensitive flesh. He chanced a glance at Draco then quickly looked away. There was something new shining in those grey depths and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. It didn’t seem like utter disgust and fear… but best not to chance it. Stealing himself, he nodded in affirmation to Draco’s question.
“Thought as much with all the screaming and transforming.” Draco murmured. “The same thing happened to me a few weeks ago… It changes more than the body, you know. The way I see things… perceive them, and my priorities… they all kinda got turned upside down…” He trailed off, lost in thought.
Harry stared in wonder at the silver haired boy. Malfoy actually understood what he was going through. Those veela rumors must have been true after all… he looked like one, even when weak like this. So that was what had caused such a change in the boy. This time, when Draco met his gaze, neither backed down.
“You don’t have to sit out there, you know.” Draco said after a while, his lips forming a wry grin.
Harry eyed him cautiously, searching for any sign of fear. Finding none, he gave a small smile and crawled through the barrier to kneel beside Draco.
“I gather you must have some very powerful Fae blood to be as strong as you are.” Draco spoke conversationally with an air of curiosity. Harry merely shrugged noncommittally. The Soul of Chaos’ lineage was beyond Fae, as were a few other bloods circulating in the wizard community. Since Harry had no one previous to compare to, it was best to be as vague as possible for his own safety.
Remembering Draco was still tied, he reached up to free him, but paused before his fingers made contact. Draco gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m not going to break, Potter. Stop acting like I’m going to burst into hysterics at the mere sight of you. I’m not a complete coward.” At Harry’s knowing look he rolled his eyes. “Anymore. People do change, you know.”
Suddenly that strange light was back in the grey eyes again. Harry swallowed hard, unable to look away. This of course led to the strange phenomenon of a Malfoy blushing. Trying to hide his mirth at seeing Draco huff and duck his head to hide his tinted cheeks, Harry leaned forward and started to work on the ropes. Although most of his strength had faded with weariness, he still found it to be much easier.
A breathless gasp brought his concerned gaze down to find Draco had clamped his eyes shut. Harry looked away, pulling at the ropes. “I thought you weren’t afraid?” He asked hoarsely.
“…I’m not.” Draco whispered back, his voice oddly low.
“You can’t even look at me.” Harry pulled the end of the rope through the final loop and started to unwrap it from the narrow wrists.
Draco groaned, his eyes still shut tightly. “It’s not like that.”
“Right, then what is it like?” Harry bit back, voice cracking harshly. Lies were just as bad as fear in his mind.
“Shit, don’t be like that.” Draco snapped back. “It has nothing to do with me being afraid of you. Honestly, who the fuck would be afraid of you, Potter?” Leaning forward, he rested his head on Harry’s shoulder to prove his point. “My Fae blood does things to my eyes… it’s in both our interest if I keep them shut right now.”
Harry bit his lip, feeling increasingly stupid about his insecurities. Malfoy must have had to go through a lot of this shit too. “Oh… what will happen?” He asked, unconsciously rubbing his hands over Draco’s arms and wrists to help restore the circulation. The pale hands were so cold they burned.
“Erm, best not to talk about it till they go back to normal,” Was the awkward reply murmured into his shoulder.
“Oh.” He looked away but found himself drawn back to the silvery head. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about…”
“Relax, I guess I should have believed those rumors about you being raised my muggles.” Draco yawned and rested heavily against Harry. “Did you even know you were going to transform today?”
Harry laughed, or at least tried to; it quickly turned into a coughing fit. “Ouch.” He rasped; his throat felt like it was burning. “I talked to Dumbledore before I left Hogwarts. He said that my appearance may change a bit and I should expect some discomfort.”
“Ha!” Draco gaped. “The old coot doesn’t even realize your power. The purebloods have been expecting something big from you ever since your grandfather had such a powerful exritus. By the looks of you, you’ve got a long way ahead of you. You’re as messed up as I was.” Draco shifted, sitting up and finally opening his eyes. “The more painful, the more power you posses. The transformation is your fae blood awakening and reinforcing your body. The thing is, ever since Grindelwald, no one has been able to transform like they should. Only those with the blood of certain Fae have enough power to awaken and even they are limited from their full transformation.”
Harry watched transfixed as the glowing silver eyes started to darken to their normal grey color. What would have happened if they hadn’t? Could they shine light like beacons until whoever was looking upon them were blinded?
“They knew from my bloodline that I’d awaken. It was probably one of the few secrets we couldn’t hide.” Draco muttered. “’Course that sent old Uncle Voldie after me. He couldn’t wait to get his bloody paws on me. I’m sure he’s quite disappointed to loose such a source of power, but it’s either his way or death, and his way is too disgusting for thought…” He broke out of his musings and gave Harry an appraising look. “And once again he’s been thwarted by the Golden Boy.” He said it flippantly but his smile was genuine.
Harry blinked, a little confused with how sociable Malfoy was being. The half-hearted dig had reminded him that most conversations with the Slytherin had been far more vicious… actually… had he ever had a real conversation with the boy before beyond the differences of purebloods and muggleborns, and Slytherins and Gryffindors? It was a little disconcerting. “Err, you know, I didn’t come to save you. I mean, when I saw you were in trouble I just had to help you— Well, I wanted to… but I didn’t come here because I thought you needed help. I didn’t even know you were here…” To increase Harry’s confusion, Draco started laughing.
“Gods man! Must you always divert praise from yourself, Potter? Face it, no matter what kind of goodie, goodie hero complex you have, I doubt you’d be stupid enough to go trying to save your school enemy while you’re in the middle of one of the most painful experiences in your life. …Actually, you probably would.” He added thoughtfully but there was no edge to his voice. “Not to mention your bumbling entrance was what knocked that bastard out in the first place. And the way you ripped his leg apart was just a side effect of the massive pain you’ve been in mixed with the immediate danger when you awoke. You were saving yourself more than anything at that moment.”
His gaze softened as he looked down. “But you did shield me, and you trusted me with your wand. And you gave me your shirt, as hideous as it is… you saved me so… well, thank you… He—” He let out a long sigh. “He wasn’t planning on killing me right off. He had orders that he could… that he could keep me… so, even if it wasn’t planned, I’m gl-glad you got here when you did.” He finished shakily, pulling absentmindedly at the hem of the shirt wrapped around him.
“Yeah, me too.” Harry whispered. By Draco’s reaction, he could only guess he had gotten there before anything too horrible had happened. The boy seemed more frightened than emotionally scarred… he didn’t want to even think what could have happened if he had decided to floo to the Ministry that night instead. “Hey…” Tears were gleaming under the silvery lashes. “It’s okay now.” Feeling rather uncomfortable about people crying around him in general, he hesitantly reached a hand out to touch Draco’s shoulder.
It was all that was needed for Draco to throw himself at the yielding arms and sob into Harry’s shoulder. “I so w-wanted to believe you. You said it would be okay, and I wanted it to be true so badly… b-but then he woke up, and he found his wand, and-and you weren’t shielded. You st-started moving in your sleep, and I just knew what he wanted, and I couldn’t do anything! …You don’t know what he would have done to you. He’s a monster, Potter. That fucking house elf drugged me and, and… gods, I woke up and he was already here… touching me—” He chocked back a frantic scream and dug his fingers into Harry’s back. “He-he… I was so scared…”
Oh gods… Malfoy was a lot braver than he could have ever imagined. He searched the boy’s bare back, picking out each mark Macnair had beaten into him. To wake up with that freak… “It’s alright now. He can’t hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore…” He let the boy shake in his arms
Draco wiped his eyes and pulled up Harry’s form. His eyes were wild as the memories played out in his mind. “He was going to… what if he had…?” He took a deep breath, glancing away. “He wanted you, Potter. I’ve seen that look enough this summer to recognize it. You went and gave me a shield and left yourself completely vulnerable when he could… hell…”
Guilt sliced through Harry. He hadn’t thought how Draco would have felt when he had baited Macnair. The boy was horror-struck. Who knows what that monster could have done to Malfoy while he had been asleep; no wonder he had been worried of the same happening to Harry. “Listen…” He gently pulled Draco’s teary face up, ignoring the strange pull his eyes caused in him. “Um, I wasn’t asleep. I’ve known what kind of freak Macnair is for a while now… I’ve seen him do horrendous things. I had to preserve my strength so I thought it would be easier to just… um, lure him over and…” Trepidation flashed in his eyes but he had to continue. “I knew exactly what I was doing when I destroyed his leg and I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. I’m sorry if I frightened you… I just wanted us to make it out alive.” He pulled away so Draco could scamper off in fear if the urge hit him.
Draco’s eyes widened. “You were conscious of your actions?” He asked, voice somewhat breathless with tears. Harry nodded solemnly. He debated on explaining about his visions and his scar but decided against it. No point in freaking out Malfoy anymore than necessary.
“…You intentionally put yourself at risk, to lure over a madman, so you could attack him with a physical strength you couldn’t have been sure you had?” Draco continued with an air of disbelief and narrowed eyes.
“Well, I knew I was stronger… I was just kinda tired.” Harry spoke up, feeling the need to defend himself.
“You couldn’t even walk!” Draco yelped, smacking Harry’s shoulder. “You were in pain, screaming for hours, and you just naturally thought you could handle a fully armed wizard!”
Harry rolled his eyes, getting annoyed. All these years and he had finally figured it out. Malfoy was bipolar, plain and simple. “And what choice did I have exactly? He intended on torturing, raping, and eventually killing you. Was I supposed to take a nap and ignore it?”
“I was safe behind the shield, you idiotic Gryffindor! If anything, you were more at risk!” Draco’s voice had grown increasingly shrill with each word, his eyes paling in anger.
Harry sighed in frustration. “Malfoy!” He hissed harshly, grabbing the boy’s shoulders. “How fucking long do you think that shield would have lasted with me dead!” He watched as the anger drained from Draco to be replaced by shock and fear. “Listen,” he continued more gently. “I happen to know that Macnair has a basement full of mementos he’s kept of his victims… I didn’t have much of a time window to get that guy, I can barely stay awake now and the pain will be back soon.” His shoulders drooped as the truth of how tired he was sunk in. “You’ve been through a lot, just… let it go for now. There will be plenty of time for therapy once the Order gets here.”
Draco nodded mutely. His uncontrollable shaking had returned in full force now that his anger had left him. “I-I, I thought we were going to die. I thought I’d never see another morning… Fight with me all you want, Potter. It’s a hell of a lot better than being dead.” He turned his head to Harry and gripped his upper arm as if it was the only thing anchoring him to life.
“Here.” Harry helped Draco move his wobbly arms through the sleeves of the oversized T-shirt and pulled it down over his head. With a little shifting, it covered Draco all the way down to mid thigh. Harry eyed him with a frown. “Only you could make that shirt look fashionable.”
Draco shrugged, scrubbing his face free of any remaining tears. “All clothes look good on me.” He ignored Harry’s disbelieving snort and cast his gaze on the crippled form on the floor. “Is he likely to be waking up anytime soon?”
Harry peeked an eye open from where he was drifting off against the wall. “He won’t be waking up at all unless he gets a healer.” He said emotionlessly.
“Good,” Draco responded grimly. He leaned his back against the wall beside Harry. Heat warmed him where their sides touched and he instinctively moved closer. He didn’t care to give thought about his ease around his long time rival. As annoying as the Gryffindor could be, he could trust him to be morally upright… for the most part.
He slit an eye open and glanced back at the resting boy. The act of tearing Macnair apart hadn’t seemed to bother Potter as much as his fear of being condemned for it. He couldn’t remember Potter being so insecure, even when the whole Heir of Slytherin rumors had been circulating or that horrible incident with Diggory. In his mind he couldn’t see anything wrong with what Harry had done but to most people… Yeah, Potter would have some problems with his new situation. People expected Harry Potter to be a certain way; they wouldn’t be able to understand this change. They saw the world in black and white but Harry had just found the grays and nothing would ever be the same for him again.
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Awakening To the Dream