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Here But For the Grace of Merlin	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21620 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. We make nothing from this piece of fanfiction, and suing would be pointless, unless you like lint and bad skin!

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Warnings: Angst, OOC, DH spoilers (minus Epilogue), language, violence, self-harm, drinking, slash, smut, non-con, BDSM

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, and Warner Bros and some other stupid companies. I make nothing from this piece of fanfiction, and suing would be pointless, unless you like lint and bad skin!

Author’s Notes: Many, many thanks to my new beta, Jamie, for all her help with getting this chapter and the last few of The End Shall Come into shape. Luvre! And as always, thanks to Sevfan!

Chapter Five - …Harry and Draco…

Draco crossed his arms before his chest and moved to lean casually against the door frame as he took in the room’s occupant. Potter, though bedridden, still had an air of command that hadn’t left him since the moment he sprang miraculously back up from the dead. Those unforgettable green eyes blazed behind the new glasses with a fire that sent a trickle of delight slowly through his body. That is, until Potter closed them and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry about your father, Malfoy.”

The blond eyed the other teen freely, trying desperately to figure out what his game was. “Thank you, Potter. I’m sorry that you’re here, I suppose,” he said uncomfortably. “If I remember correctly, you were never too fond of being hospitalized.”

He could have sworn that the black-haired teen muttered something along the lines of ‘too many questions’, but he was soon too busy being speared by expressive eyes to care. “Not really, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“And just what is?”

“Who attacked you tonight?” Potter’s voice was cold, as if belonging to someone much older than their eighteen years, a warrior ready for battle, evidently.

“The Lestrange brothers, Travers, Macnair and Avery,” Draco answered after a moment’s contemplation. “They have been apprehended by the Aurors.”

“After you and your parents probably caught the Death Eaters for them,” Potter said sarcastically.

Draco could feel the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile before he was able to shove his amusement down to a very small, cramped part of his mind for perusal later. “Indubitably.”

He wasn’t prepared for Potter’s laugh – a dark, rich thing that pulled something close to lust to the surface of Draco’s mind – and he had to turn his head to the side to hide most of the blush he could feel spreading across his face. This new Potter was nothing like the boy he’d gone to school with, if their brief conversation was anything to go by. “Sorry, Malfoy, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just that I’ve never heard that word used outside of the occasional blip on the telly.”

“The what?” His uncontrollable libido was crushed under his curiosity – ‘unlike sixth and seventh year when it was fear crushing out what was normal from you’, Draco’s mind supplied, – and he moved closer to the reclining boy in his bed.

“Telly, it’s a Muggle thing,” Potter said offhand, as if Draco couldn’t possibly care. And, truthfully, he might not have if this was the same Potter. But, it wasn’t and he was definitely curious, about many things.

“That’s what I gathered, since it was nothing that I’ve heard about before now,” Draco drawled, pulling back into his cool façade before he gave too much of himself away. It was obviously the wrong thing to do, though, for Potter’s face snapped shut faster than a Hungarian Horntail’s maw.

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

‘Yes, what do you want, Draco?’ The blond scowled, his mask becoming truth as his curiosity dwindled to a tiny trickle. “You asked about me, Potter.” If his voice was a bit snappish, well, that was to be expected, right? “The question is what do you want, Potter?”

“I was merely making conversation with your mother.” Draco decided to let that go. He’d heard the way the other man had used his first name, something neither of them had actually permitted to happen in the seven years of their acquaintance. “But, do you know what’s wrong with Lucius?”

“As if you care,” Draco snapped, tired of being nice to Potter. “There’s nothing for you to do, Chosen One, so just enjoy your bed rest and interrogation from the Aurors.”

“Look here, you pain in the arse, don’t you know how to be polite?!”

“Oh, yes, in fact, I have impeccable manners. I just choose not to use them when they aren’t needed.”

“Fuck you, Malfoy.”

“In your wildest dreams, maybe, Potter,” Draco drawled. Potter blushed and the blond’s eyes widened. ‘Dear sweet Merlin, you’ve got to be kidding.’

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Narcissa looked into the small, round window that showed the inside of her husband’s room. She could see his long, white-blond hair fanning out around his head while Healers, mediwitches and mediwizards surrounded the bed, but they blocked his familiar, handsome face. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she had her wand out before she’d completely turned around. It was only Healer Mindwillow standing there, a blank look on his face. “Healer,” she said coolly.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” he replied. “While I understand that you and your family were the victims of an attack this evening, I have to ask that you please put your wand away.”

“Of course.” She didn’t trust this man. He was the only Healer she’d ever met that gave her the distinct impression that he didn’t care whether his patients lived or died. “Can you tell me what my husband’s condition is?”

“Well, after talking to Aurors Gillyroot and Beetstring, I’m almost certain of the spell used on Mr. Malfoy.” She allowed herself a moment of relief, but it was short lived as the man continued. “However, I am uncertain how Mr. Travers managed to miscast a Bedazzling Hex.”

“A Bedazzling Hex?” she asked, floored by the former Death Eater’s incompetence.

“Yes, that is what the Aurors found after examining the man’s wand.” The Healer sighed impatiently. “I am going to consult with a Curse Breaker from Gringotts to see if they have any suggestions.”

“How soon do you think it will be before something can be done to help him?”

“Depending on if the Curse Breaker can help or not, I can’t really say.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her mind travelling a mile a minute. “Oh, do you know who is in charge of Mr. Potter’s case?”

Mindwillow blinked, obviously thrown by the random question. If only he knew what she had in mind, then he might be hesitant to answer her seemingly innocuous questions. “I believe it is Healer Sharpe. She should be around. It’s her day for rounds. Did you need something with her?”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” Narcissa answered with a genuine smile. She now had someone to talk to about Potter’s care. Oh, things were looking up; if one overlooked the care her husband was receiving at this time, that is. She hadn’t.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco just started at the Boy Who Lived, his mouth shaped into a little ‘o’ of surprise. Potter was refusing to look him in the face, and the former Slytherin Prince was at a loss for words. However, he didn’t have long to stand there alone with the other teen, because just then a team of Aurors breezed in. The taller of the two – a giant of a man with black hair and dead blue eyes – glared at Draco before growling, “Leave, Malfoy.”

The other, a petite blonde woman with doe-brown eyes, sighed. “Be nice, Carter. Malfoy’s just here to see his friend.”

“Weren’t friends from what I hear, Cobb,” Carter shot back.

“That’s beside the point. We’re here to talk to Mr. Potter about the situation that landed him here in the hospital,” the woman said cheerfully.

“Well, I won’t keep you from your very important job,” Draco drawled, rolling his eyes and making Harry’s lips twitch up into a small smile that make Draco’s heart lurch. “Potter, I suppose I’ll see you again, in the papers, no doubt.”

“No doubt,” the black-haired teen answered, still sounding amused. Draco had nearly turned to leave when Potter’s voice called out to him. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow in return. “Would you thank your mother for her visit?”

“Certainly, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear you have manners as well.” When out in the hall, Draco took a moment to lean against the wall. His mind was reeling. Perfect Potter was attracted to him. It was a bit more than he was prepared to deal with.

And information that he was inclined to use to his benefit.

Now, he just had to figure out what his mother had planned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Just as he was about to go searching for his mother, she walked around a corner down the hall, an enigmatic smile on her lips. He watched her as she made her way to him, that eerie smile still gracing her normally serene face. “Mother?”

“Ah, Draco, how was Mr. Potter when you left?”

“Dealing with the Aurors regarding his accident,” he answered.

“You don’t sound particularly happy about that. Did the two of you argue?” she asked in the tone that demanded a reply.

“Actually, there’s the rub… We were nearly civil to one another.”

“I’m proud of you, my son, for doing so,” she said, standing on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. “Now, I have spoken to Healer Mindwillow again. They finally know what spell Travers miscast.”

“What was it?” He needed to know so that later he could find someone to sneak into Azkaban and kill the stupid fool later.

“A Bedazzling Hex, of all things.”

Draco blinked, at a loss for words for the second time in the last hour. “Really?”

“So it would appear,” Narcissa said, her tone a dangerous and icy. “Mindwillow says that he must talk to a Curse Breaker from Gringotts for assistance in removing it.”

“Hm,” was all Draco said as he turned his attention to the door his father was behind. “Does he know why it reacted as a stroke would have?”

“He didn’t say anything about that, sadly.”

“Ah, yes, Mother, Potter says thank you for visiting with him.” His statement brought that enigmatic smile back to his mother’s face again. ‘She is plotting trouble. I wish Father was well enough to make her tell what she is thinking.’

“Well, it was certainly no hardship to spend a few moments speaking to the man who saved my family from Azkaban,” she replied happily.

‘Oh, dear Merlin, I think I know what it is now,’ he thought. “Mother, what do you have going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing that need worry you, my dear son.”

Oh, yes, because that always helped…

TBC

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Here But For the Grace of Merlin