Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45317 -:- 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
- 62
- 63
- 64
AN: Hello dearies (I feel old today), how’s life? This chapter was written… hell, it had to have been a year ago. And I really haven’t written much since then. I’ve tried to edit it as much as possible, but I know it still has a lot of issues, but whatever. It’s time to get things done and if I’m tripping over the little things nothing will get written.
I think once I get a stable job, and stable living arrangement writing will be easier for me. Too much emotional turmoil translates into writers’ block, I guess. Funny, since it used to be artists’ block. Anyways, I won’t be getting to comments this round, although maybe next. I know, I’m a bitch, but it just takes too much out of me even when you all have such wonderful and supportive things to say. I’m trying.
Hopefully your eyes are fresher than mine when it comes to this chapter. I just so wanted to let you all see this part; it disappoints me it didn’t come out as nice as I wanted.
Oh, and not to be a total tool, but feel free to check out my art at http://chimaerachan.deviantart.com I’m taking commissions and could honestly use the money. I don’t usually self promote, but yeah…
~Vox

CH63
Draco awoke, his vision filled with spots. Familiar scents reached him… comforting… He yawned widely, pushing his shoulder against the nearest body. “Gah, Weasleys. I thought you had teacher stuff this week.”
Fred peered over. “Brought it with us. Figured you’d need a guard for the weekend since the kiddies will be coming for Harry.”
That seemed reasonable enough. Draco gave another yawn, and rolled to the opposite side. “You’re squishing me.”
“That’s ‘cause you make cute noises when you’re squished.” George stretched lazily and scooted over to give Draco more room. “I don’t want to get up…” he grumbled when Fred peeked over Draco’s shoulder inquiringly. “He’s so warm.”
“Mmmm…” Fred agreed, resting his head on Draco’s chest. “But we should get up.”
“I dun wanna…”
“Come on, before you fall asleep again. It’s not like before…” Fred paused to yawn. “We actually have work to do.”
Tired of listening to the two convince themselves to get out of his bed, Draco wiggled his way free of the covers and sat up, cradling his hands close to his torso. “I’ve got to piss.” His eyes traveled to the divider curtain that someone had left cracked open. Stretching his foot out, he curved his toes and moved the curtain a little further open, hoping to catch sight of Harry. Instead he was met with the majority of the Gryffindor house.
“Morning, Malfoy! How’re you feeling?”
Draco dropped the curtain abruptly, blocking the crowd from his view. “Did you know they were out there?”
“Yep.”
“Pomfrey wouldn’t let the whole lot in without a few responsible adults to make sure they behaved.”
Draco nodded, remembering he was in the midst of the two newest Potions professors. “You know I hate you, right?”
“Mmhmm,” the twins answered back uncaringly. “Feel like calling Thomas? He’s our boy in charge since the Golden Trio are either sleeping or weeping.”
A rebuke was on the tip of Draco’s tongue, but he held it back. No, he was not a messenger boy, but the twins had done a lot for him, so he supposed he could do this for them. He stretched his foot out again, opening the curtain wide. Now the whole group was staring at him.
“Jesus, Malfoy; when did you start glowing? You’re fucking hot.” A very loud, very stupid seventh year Gryffindor by the name of Edward Cage decided to say what everyone there was thinking.
Draco scowled. “George.”
“Cage, that’s twenty inches on tact, and why you will never get a chance with a catch like Draco, on my desk by tonight,” George called from his place on the mattress, refusing to move even when handing out punishment. “Dean! You’re supposed to be keeping behavior like that in check. Get yer arse over here.”
“Another ten inches for swearing while in the domain of the great lady, Poppy. Make it on respect,” Fred added to Cage’s punishment with a bored sigh.
“Before you say another word, I have way too much homework this weekend for an essay, so please feel free to prank me, and make it quick.” Dean slipped through the dividing curtain with a resigned look on his face. They weren’t cruel, well, unselfish, enough to take points from their housemates, so the twins were giving out loads of pointless essays. Not to mention horribly cruel punishments like transfiguring students, or worse, using them as guinea pigs for some of their more volatile pranks while in the privacy of their classroom.
“We should give you fifty inches just for your tongue, Thomas. Luckily, we like you. You’re plucky.” George rolled over, throwing his legs across Draco’s knees. “And because of that, you get the honor of helping Malfoy to the loo.”
Dean just nodded, glad to be free of any stupid punishment besides the current one he was being subjected to “Do you need a chair or something, Malfoy?”
Head tilted critically, Draco stared up at the boy. Dean Thomas had never really been one to cause trouble with the Slytherins, but he had been known for sticking up like a normal lion when his friends were provoked, if not a bit more cautiously. Harry had spoken highly of the boy, a responsible sort in his mind compared to his Finnigan friend. “Do you hate me?”
“The only person I hate is Voldemort,” Dean said simply, hardly fazed by the odd question.
“…Wanna shag me?”
“Who doesn’t? I have no problem keeping my hands to myself, if that’s your problem.”
“You damn well better,” George growled sleepily. Draco was satisfied though, and soon was escorted to the bathroom by Dean. He had gotten walking down well since last week, and hardly tottered from the pain, but he was still a bit off when his arms couldn’t keep his balance properly. His current morning pain potions were still strong, and shadows jumped out at Draco while he moved along. That half of these shadows were classmates was more alarming than the tilting floor.
“I will eat your face off,” Draco promised when Cage pushed to get a closer look at him. Dean carefully placed himself between Draco and the crowd, startled by just why the Slytherin needed an escort.
“Uh, just give a knock when you’re ready to come out. I’ll watch the door.” Dean left Draco to his business, shielding the door before returning to his dorm mates. Most of them continued to stare at the door even though Draco was now out of sight. When Neville had mentioned that Draco had gone Veela, Dean hadn’t imagined anything worse than Fleur Delacour. The way his friends were acting around the Slytherin was very unsettling, not to mention stupid.
Dean turned when he heard the curtains around Draco’s bed shift, and Fred’s fiery head popped out through the opening. “Hey Thomas, smack them around a bit.”
He couldn’t help but wonder what made Fred think that he, one person among a sea of thirty of his peers, had any sort of authority in the group. He wasn’t a prefect, he wasn’t necessarily intimidating… sure he was tall, but in a beanpole-ish way… “—Andrew! You did not just try to take down my shield!” Disregarding the twins’ obvious mistake, Dean set about tackling the seventh year before he could scurry away. “Patil, don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re a girl!” Patil squeaked and quickly put her wand away.
“Bloody—what the hell is wrong with them?” Gasping for air, Dean pulled a feisty fourth year by the name of Tory from his shoulders and rapped him warningly on the back of his head. “They’re insane.”
“Yeah, that’s Draco’s fault, really.” George pushed the curtains open, smoothing his tousled hair back in place. “Apparently his allure hits everyone differently. Some go nuts, others barely notice. We’re lucky he’s not trying at the moment; he can get pretty convincing when he wants.”
“On your right, Thomas,” Fred mumbled sleepily right before another student ran for the bathroom door.
Cursing, Dean followed. At least with Seamus he had been able to predict his hyperactive movements. This was like trying to stop the ocean. “I want some sort of compensation for all this,” he insisted after a bony knee made contact with his gut.
The twins nodded to themselves, watching Dean wrestle with his friends until Draco was finally ready. Flushed skin glistening from his shower, and his thin robe clinging to the wet spots he had missed, Draco had everyone’s attention the moment he opened the door.
“…You all disgust me.” Unsteadily stomping out of the doorway, Draco hobbled around the group and hid back behind his curtains and the protective wards Madame Pomfrey had charmed in the fabric to keep his powers from escaping. Slowly the other students came back to themselves, a low chatter rising as they realized just how they had been acting.
“Gods, he’s sexy when he does that.”
“Nothing beats that sneer of his,” Fred agreed. “Okay kiddies, are you all good and rightfully embarrassed with yourselves?” he asked the blushing students. “Good. And now we can expect you to hold back your complaints when we tell you that you’re going to be helping us this weekend.”
A collective groan went through the room. Dean sighed; he never caught a break. “Is this mandatory?”
“Only for those who can’t fight Malfoy’s allure. Madame Pomfrey would like us to round the students up that are old enough to be affected by Veelas, and have them brew their own repellant. That means half of you will be helping us set up the classroom, and getting things in order, and the other half will be going out and posting these fliers on each House’s bulletin board, and spreading the word. We expect to see everyone in the Potions classroom at three this afternoon.” George ignored the groans sent in response and added to Dean, “Neville will be helping us for extra credit, so you’re going to have to help tutor Zabini today. He’ll be around later tonight to make sure the plan he left will be followed.”
“Wait—what about my homework?!”
“Bring it with you. Neville seems to think Zabini is smart enough to not even need the help, so you probably won’t be doing much work. Be there by noon—don’t give me that look. It’s your own fault for being such a smarty-pants.”
Dean kept his mouth shut, his glare answer enough. By the look of things he was going to end up spending his whole Sunday trying to get all his homework done. And really, now he had to tutor a Slytherin? The way Neville complained on the way out and back, Zabini was a nightmare of a pupil.
“That’s a good lad. Try to stay out of trouble now.” George gave a condescending pat to Dean’s shoulder, ignoring the growl that answered him. “Ready, Draco?”
There was a rustle of curtains and Draco’s grumpy face came into view. “Go bugger yourself. I’m not going.”
“Oh, don’t be that way. We’ll have fun, lots of it. We can pick on the kiddies, and we’ll even let you be the first to use our new—”
“No.”
“Come on, Drake. You need the fresh air. And really, you’ve been getting pretty nasty being isolated like this. Zabini won’t tell it to your face, but he’s tired of listening to you bitch all the time.” Fred smiled beckoningly. “You’ll really like our new prank.”
“Go suck on a—”
“Mr. Malfoy!” Draco jumped, turning his head to find Madame Pomfrey looming in the doorway. He paled and hid behind his curtains.
Poppy sighed, setting her sights on Fred and George. “I want him back in top form. Use those status spells you learned, and if any yellow spots start jumping up, bring him back immediately. And don’t let him eat too much of the sweets, for that matter.”
“Well, I think we have to worry more about getting him out the door at the moment,” George said, pointing to the drawn curtains.
“Oh, he’ll be going, don’t you worry about that.” Poppy made a pinching motion with her fingers to emphasize her point. The curtains shook, and if one could see behind them, they would find Draco sneering quite rudely.
“…Fine, I’ll go! But if I die, it’s on your negligent head, you old bat!”
*******
“Well, this was unexpected,” George said cheerfully.
“Not by me,” Draco reminded, his eyes darting around the Great Hall.
“Yes, but you’re a pessimist. A hippogriff could come charging in here, pin you to the wall, and peck your ears off, and you could still say ‘I told you so’ with the attitude you’ve been sporting.”
“…And yet, I’d still be right.” Draco’s tone was dulled by his tense posture. One of the Great Hall walls had collapsed while being repaired that day. No one had been hurt, but it had cut the space for students to eat in half. Draco was currently packed in with the Gryffindor third years, the twins flanking him on the bench to keep curious, or negative attention away. The worst part was that with the close quarters, they couldn’t even do the prank they had promised for fear of trampling mobs of students.
“Come on, eat up and we’ll take you for a walk. We didn’t really expect too much when you’re in such a mood. Although it’s always entertaining to watch you tear into the lot.”
A little girl staring avidly at Draco squeaked when the boy looked her way. “I do believe you’re going to have to catch a few of the younger years. I’m apparently quite attractive.”
“Would you like a medal? We could get you a medal. World’s Sexiest Prat; it could sparkle and everything.”
“Now be nice,” Fred admonished. “Universe’s Sexiest Prat seems more appropriate. I mean really, that hair, those legs, that ass…”
“And now the joke has gone to far,” Draco said with a bored sigh, calmly picking up the maple syrup and drowning his pancakes. The twins made a grab for the plate, but his fierce glare kept them at bay. He primly handed the bottle over, proving that he had no intention of adding more, and dug in.
“That’s… no, I don’t care how hot you are, that’s still pretty gross.” Fred wrinkled his nose, while George leaned in to see just how much Draco had flooded his plate. “How can you eat that? Even we have limits.”
Draco ignored them, keeping the fork in his mouth to suck the access syrup from between the prongs. He had watched Potter go through the same ritual every morning when Dobby had served pancakes at Grimmauld’s Place. Apparently sugar was needed in stabilizing a newborn’s system. At the time it had perplexed him, but as the days wore on Draco had found an intense, thoroughly confusing fixation with the syrup, and more importantly, just how the dark haired boy consumed it.
“…You’re going to get fat.”
“Fuck off.” Discarding his fork, Draco fumbled to pick up his spoon with his bandaged hand and began scooping. Hell, that was good. He let the syrup linger on his tongue, sliding it around his mouth while he wondered if Harry’s mouth would be so sweet in the morning. Probably even more so…
Feeling flushed, Draco scraped at his plate, trying to hold onto the fantasy as long as possible, his Veela mentally purring in contentment. It was the little things that kept him from cracking. Madame Pomfrey didn’t approve of the sweets, but she understood enough of why he needed the effect to back off. Chocolate bars, ice cream, and maple syrup did the trick, and heaven help him, but the memory of Harry constantly chewing on the top of his water bottle had to be saved for nighttime behind closed curtains. He would lick the stray drops on the side of the bottle so intently, tongue sliding in and over the ridges of the bottle…
Swallowing hard, Draco tried, and failed to focus on anything but the remnants of syrup on his plate. His Veela had a nasty case of oral fixation—really, everything sidetracked him. He had convinced a package of sweet cough drops from Neville, and was already planning on having one before he agreed to any walk that day. It wasn’t that hard to fake a cough; he’d been doing it so much the last few days it would be expected at this point. Draco cleared his throat. Yup, he was quite skilled at that. All he’d have to do was give his special look and he—
Hands were in his hair. Unfamiliar hands were in his hair! “Oh my fucking god, get off me!” Draco struggled to his feet and turned, pressing his back protectively to the table. He bit back a gasp. There were bodies and grabby hands everywhere!
Now very aware of his surroundings and how they had changed while he was spaced out, he gave an unmanly yelp, and kicked the closest idiot invading his space. At his yell, Fred and George were snapped out of their own entranced state to find that their guarding duties had failed. Students of all ages were crowding around their area of the table, all of them trying to get a piece of Draco—quite literally; they were pawing at his clothes, trying to take them away!
Draco had a great, painfully wrought burst of insight when someone grabbed and pulled his hair. Daydreaming without Madame Pomfrey’s charmed bed curtains was a very, very, very stupid idea.
*******
“Bloody idiot teachers… Everyone knows the twins are out of their minds, brilliant as those insane minds may be… And how dare Neville go skirting his own responsibilities for extra credit? His potions’ marks have been perfectly acceptable since Snape hasn’t been around to scare the crap out… of… him…?” Dean’s muttering trailed off as soon as he stepped into the Great Hall. The sight before him stopped him cold.
He was seeing things. A hallucination—No, a prank! That had to be it, because there was no way Draco Malfoy was standing on a table, hair mussed and shirt missing, while the whole of the school clamored to get to him.
But he was… and he wasn’t looking very pleased about it. Dean watched as Draco hissed like an alley cat and kicked out, his shoe meeting the face of an aggressive seventh year. The boy went flying back, blood spurting from his nose.
That was when Dean realized it was real. He ran towards the table, pulled out his wand, and stopped at the edge of the crowd. He wasn’t sure what to do; in the hospital ward physical attacks had been more effective than magical, and really, he was still only one person! There was no way he’d be able to restrain all these people on his own.
“You little bastard—I’m so taking a gazillion points from Ravenclaw!” Dean looked to his left behind a flurry of robes as one of the Weasley twins screeched, and wrenched himself free from the crush of bodies. “Malfoy, for the love of the gods, shut your bloody eyes!”
“They are shut! They’re not even glowing!” Draco shouted from his perch while trying to avoid the hands grasping for his ankles. He stumbled back, and Dean started, watching the dangerous movement with his heart in his throat. The world slowed. Malfoy’s eyes widened in horror as he began to tilt backwards, tipping past the point of no return, and then falling into the crowd. An instant later he was gone, pulled under in a sea of arms and bodies.
A jaw knocked into Dean’s shoulder, effectively waking him from his motionless stance. He began fighting through the crowd, hoping he’d reach Draco before something horrible happened to the boy. Behind him a strange cry rose up, starting as a soft whine and quickly growing into a storm of wild wind. He only had a moment to glance over his shoulder and see a hunched figure before the world spun wildly and threw him across the room.
“…What the…?” Dean opened his eyes, looking blearily around. There was a strange weight pressing on his chest and keeping him from taking deep breaths. Looking down he found his feet dangling above the ground of the Great Hall, his heels pressed tight against the wall. Turning in the bonds, he tried to see who had done this, only to find that everyone else in the room was in the same predicament.
“Draco—Draco!” Fred struggled against the magical bonds. In the middle of the room Draco was bent over gasping for breath, a dark figure standing over him.
Blinking madly, it took Draco a wild moment to realize that he was no longer being assaulted. His shoulder was killing him, and the dull pain he had been feeling from the Spear had intensified closer to the screaming pain of before. His head wasn’t letting him forget, his pulse concentrated in the wounds like a knife. His whole body felt like it was going to shake apart, and if his heart didn’t slow down soon he was all ready to pass out.
“…Malfoy… I’m feeling really sick here…”
Gasping, Draco jumped and fell on his butt. He used his legs to turn. Harry’s eyes were a glittering, unfocused light in his pale face, dark shadows wrapping and supporting the boy in a way his legs couldn’t handle in his weakened state.
Draco stared up in disbelief, something inside of him welling painfully at the sight of Harry awake.
“Y-You look it,” Draco finally spoke, focusing his remaining energy so he could pull himself from the ground. In reply, Harry crouched over, grasping his stomach and then covering his head with his hands. He remained hovering over the table for support while dizzying waves of pain shook his bandaged frame. Draco rested to the left of him on the bench, his arm rubbing up and down Harry’s bare back while the boy collected himself.
Harry turned, stumbling forward and nearly falling over Draco. “I don’t feel good… really don’t…”
“Harry!” Fred shouted from his strained position on the side of the wall once he recognized his friend. Harry looked up around blearily but didn’t seem to see anyone. “Damn, can anyone move?” There was only silence as the students continued to stare transfixed at Draco. Finally Dean wiggled into a better position. “The teachers always come by around mid meal, so someone will show up eventually.
“Thomas, thank the gods. I think George is hurt. Can you tell if anyone else is unaffected by this spell?”
Dean looked around as much as his pinned form could allow. He noticed a few knocked out students, but no one seemed lucid, or mobile. “Let’s just hope no one shows up who can’t handle Malfoy’s allure.”
“Damn, we’re going to need a hell of a lot more of that potion.” Fred looked over to George’s unconscious form and then to Harry. The boy was pretty beat up, but at least he was awake. Draco was obviously thinking the same thing as he was nearly crushed when Harry fell against him.
“Sorry, Malfoy,” Harry muttered, unable to find the strength to actually move.
A lump formed in Draco’s throat, and without complaint he let Harry wrap his arms around his waist and settle his upper body against his while kneeling on the ground. “It was you, right? You stopped them from hurting me.”
Harry didn’t answer, weariness pulling him down too heavily. Draco held tighter, looking out in wonder at all the students Harry held in his power. Yehl or Zunseht would be there soon… Draco’s body began to shake with deep tremors again.
He didn’t know why he was still freaking out. Only that he had been very scared, and nearly torn to pieces, and it was so good to have Harry back alive, truly alive.
It had been his mantra; Harry was going to be fine. But it wasn’t until Harry was there, actually in front of him, that Draco knew that it was true.
*******
Yehl had easily carried Harry to his room in the hospital ward. Obsidian guarded their movements while the twins wheeled Draco back with the group. George had woken up quick enough, a small bump on his head and a much larger grudge against a certain third year the worst of his troubles. As quickly as Draco had riled up the students, Yehl had been able to return them to normal, using a powerful calming spell to get them back in control. What was more difficult was removing the spell pinning them all to the wall. Draco had been forced to wake Harry from where he had fallen asleep in his lap so the boy could free them. Harry had fallen asleep immediately after, and showed no interest in waking since.
Poppy had been furious that her two special patients had nearly gotten themselves killed by a simple breakfast outing. Draco’s shoulder had been dislocated, and new abrasions covered his skin from the assault. It was his emotional health Poppy was more concerned about. Already withdrawn and morose, the boy was a shaking wreck and now jumped at everything that moved. Harry was even worse off. Although he didn’t have the physical symptoms of trauma, he had used the majority of his slowly restored energy to push the students off of Draco, and set back his healing process significantly. She was monitoring him closely, making sure he didn’t fall back into his earlier comatose state. Thankfully, he was stable, if not horrifically weak.
The no visitors’ rule was back in effect. Draco was no longer allowed to have meals in the Great Hall until the Veela repellent potions were completed, consumed, and thoroughly tested, and Poppy had doubled her mothering over the young Slytherin, hoping to draw him out of his mood before he regressed further into melancholy.
“We can still wheel you around for a bit. As long as you stay seated, Pomfrey has no problem with it,” George reminded with a false sense of cheer once Poppy had gone off to finish up her paperwork about the event.
Draco shook his head, sitting back in his designated spot at Harry’s bedside. “I think it would be better to stay here. He…” Draco raised his eyes to the twin faces across Harry’s bed. “He wouldn’t have pushed himself if I hadn’t left. Until he’s well, I’m not leaving the ward again.”
“How about we wheel you about the ward then? I’m sure Zabini would be happy to see you.”
Draco gave a one-shoulder shrug, his attention focused on Harry. As glad as he had been to see Harry up and about, guilt was now crushing him as he realized that his carelessness had set Harry’s health back. He was a horrible Candidate, and he’d be a horrible Soul Vigil if Potter had to save him over every little thing. How could he expect to help Harry when he couldn’t even keep a bunch of half trained wizards at bay?
The idea of the handless magic floated to the front of his mind again, and this time Draco didn’t immediately dismiss it. He had to do something. There was no doubt that he was going to survive the effects of the Spear. How ridiculous it would be for him to live his remaining life as a bloody cripple. Maybe… maybe the Fae knew something. Yehl had been a great help with his mental strengthening; if she knew how to overcome this, she’d be good at teaching him. If only he knew where she was. Unless needed, the two birds never seemed to actually be there. He hadn’t even known Zunseht had left until he had failed to show up to help Harry. Zunseht hadn’t spoken much with the mortals, and Draco had gotten the impression that the being really didn’t like him much.
“Drake, you should do something. You’ve been cooped up in this room for too long, and we’re afraid you’re going to use today as an excuse to be even more grouchy.”
Turning from his thoughts, Draco gave a warm, heartfelt smile, surprising George and Fred. “He woke up. How bad off can I really get after that?”
“Uhhh… I don’t know…” George replied with a confused look. He leaned over Harry’s legs to touch Draco’s forehead. He didn’t seem to have a fever. “Do that again.”
“What?”
“That smile thing. I don’t think we’ve ever seen you smile like that,” Fred explained.
Draco couldn’t help but let his smile break free again. “Oh, bugger off. I smile all the time.”
“Not like that, you don’t. You… you’re happy!” George pointed accusingly, as if a terrible injustice had just occurred.
“Now you’re just being stupid.” Huffing, Draco ignored the two idiots and snuggled closer to Harry’s elbow. Happy didn’t describe him at all at the moment, but that fire of hope inside had been sparked and was burning strong once again. He had a goal now, and in reaching it nothing was going to stop him.
- 62
- 63
- 64
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Awakening To the Dream