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The Power Of Love	By : Marblez Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5431 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I will not make any profit from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 7
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Jealousy.

The three stepped through the fireplace to their house in Godric's Hollow, ducking to get out as ever, the house just a little way down from the ruins of his parents house. When he had been married to Draco they'd lived in a little house in Devon but after the Divorce he couldn't bear to be reminded every day. For a month Harry had lived with Teddy and Jason at Grimmauld Place but as it was still being used as the Order's Headquarters it was at times a little crowded. He'd decided quickly it wasn't the place to raise his children, it wasn't the place to get over Draco as everyone trod on eggshells around him. So he'd moved to Godric's Hollow, buying a little cottage and finding a little piece.

"I'll check the messages!" Teddy said calmly, going to the phone that was also connected to the fireplace, lifting it from the cradle and pressing the button for the messages. Hermione had come up with the technique of leaving messages by firecall but had not wanted the credit for it, instead choosing to sell to a worthy company. "Monica fire called about you're appointment this month, something about having to change it due to someone more needy coming up. And can I just say that someone more needy than you must be really, really needy."

"Oi!" Harry laughed loudly as he and Jason headed up the stairs to deposit Jason's shopping in his little room. It was traditional English cottage despite being magical, the rooms were small, the ceilings low, the staircase winding and uneven, the doors and windows too small for even Harry. The cottage was heated by two magical fires, one in the kitchen, one in the sitting room. Harry loved his little cottage.

Now the Monica that Teddy had spoken of was Harry's therapist, the same one that Hermione had all but forced him to start seeing nine years ago. Monica was a very patient woman. Harry had been the last person to admit that he was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, the war had been long over. Hearing him claim this Hermione had given him a lengthy explanation on PTSD, on how it came about, on how it could be treated and on how she believed he should see a Doctor about it. So he'd gone to a Doctor and been sent to a Therapist almost immediately in a hush, hush affair. No one wanted it a widely known fact that the saviour of the wizarding world was suffering PTSD.

At first Harry had been reluctant to go and had always taken his children with him, something that was rather unusual given the circumstances but then Hermione had insisted that he leave the boys with her and go alone. It was all Hermione's doing really, everything always was. He and Monica had talked about many things, the war, his friends, his parents but he always refused to talk about Draco and what had happened. Monica accepted this for the first year when Harry visited her every day for an hour in the afternoons but by the time she'd lessened his sessions to every other day she began to push the subject,

"We need to talk about your husband and your marriage Harry."

"No."

"Bottling things up is the worst thing you can do."

"It has nothing to do with this."

"It has everything to do with this Harry."

"No it doesn't! This is because of the war, because of Voldemort!"

"Did you love Draco, Harry?"

"…"

"Please answer me Harry, I'm trying to help."

"I did love Draco."

"Do you still love Draco?"

"I-I…I don't kno-"

"Why did you Divorce?"

"We quarrelled, all the time, about everything and anything and I said things and he said things and…"

"Harry. Harry look at me. Calm down Harry."

"…and I don't know why…I don't know…I loved him so, more than anything in all the world, I loved him…"

"Harry! Look at me! Stop talking, take deep breaths and look at me."

"M-Monica?"

"Yes that's it Harry. Deep breathes. Now let me do some talking. You loved Draco and yet things spiralled out of control. I believe this was the beginning of your current condition. I've told you about the symptoms of PTSD and one of them is increased irritability, arguments would come out of no where. When you married Draco you loved him, everything was alright wasn't it?"

"Yes…"

"Did you have nightmares? Flashbacks of the war that you couldn't stop thinking about? Did you feel depressed? Like the world was pressing down on your shoulders once more?"

"We've talked about this…this is how I felt in the war…"

"I'm asking if you felt this way in your marriage Harry."

"Not…not at first…"

"But you did?"

"Yes. Yes I did. I had so many nightmares and I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to those I'd seen die before me. I saw blood on my hands night and day. I hated myself for letting them all die. And I hated Draco for trying to convince me that I was worth living. Food began to make me feel sick. Sex made me want to stab myself with a thousand knives. And my children, my beautiful children made me want to throw myself off a cliff. I brought them into a world of hate!"

"Harry. That's enough Harry. Look at me again Harry."

"No one understood. No one. I couldn't understand, how could he? How could he claim that it would be alright? How could he want to leave the safety of our house and work somewhere else! How could he trust someone with our children! They needed care…they needed…"

"Harry! Stop!"

He hadn't stopped, he'd carried on. His mind had slipped back to what he had been thinking and feeling two years before, he'd begun to shake, tears streaming down his face. It had only stopped when he'd run out of energy and out of things to say and then she'd held him as he'd cried and cried. And then once he was done and was sipping from a glass of water she'd slowly gone through everything that he'd said, using her abilities as a therapist to help him see the truth. With Monica's help Harry improved greatly over the years and his sessions with her lessened as he did so. Now it was only an hour a month that he spoke to the wonderful woman and she was classed as his friend rather than just his therapist.

But one thing that was out of Harry control were the stories that had spread about Draco and the Divorce, that made Draco out to be the bad guy. One that Harry had heard early on was that Draco had actually stolen Kai away in the middle of the night rather than it being the courts decision. After coming to terms with the fact that their Divorce had been mostly his fault, or rather the fault of his condition Harry had begun to argue the stories, to try and put them right. Most people put his arguments down to him being such a nice guy though and didn't take them seriously.

"Clive called too. Asks if he can come round for dinner tonight," Teddy said after listening to the second message, "Shall I call him back?"

"Yes, tell him that's fine. Now Jason, let's get you packed for Hogwarts," Harry said cheerfully, leading his excited son up the windy stairs to the little bedroom that was Jason's at the top of the stairs. Thankfully there had been no need to buy Jason a trunk when they were out shopping that day, Jason had agreed to use Harry's old trunk. Actually he'd asked if he could use it. "Now I'll pack your trunk if you do the bag you'll be taking on the train. You'll need a set of robes to change into on the train in their and whatever you want to take with you to entertain yourself with."

"Ok dad," Jason nodded as both of them dropped the shopping onto Jason's bed, a bed covered in a quilt cover put together by Mrs Weasley as a Christmas present. It was an…interesting quilt, to put it nicely. Together they moved around Jason's room, packing things away, finding things that Jason barely remembered that he had hidden away in the nooks and crannies of his bedroom. They also discovered a half eaten mouldy pizza.

"Jason…"

"Sorry. I forgot it was under there," Jason apologized, taking the box from his dad, "I'll go put it in the wheelie bin outside." Harry nodded as his son left the room, running down the stairs far too fast as he always did. Harry was folding up some of Jason's clothes and listening to the front door open at the same time, a small smile on his face at all of his sons energy.

"Not so fast Jason!" Harry shouted calmly, not even raising his head. Too used to it. At least Jason didn't slam the door into the kitchen's inside wall like he usually did. There was a mark on the wall now no matter how many times Harry spelled it away, it always came back.

"Sorry dad! Oh hi Clive, he's upstairs in my room," Jason's voice was as cheerful as always and Harry straightened up as he heard his boyfriend climbing the stairs. Clive had come as a surprise to most people, that Harry would be willing to risk another boyfriend after everything that had supposedly happened with Draco. Things between them weren't at the serious, serious stage yet but it had gone well passed the casual fling stage.

"Hey babe, looking good," Clive said appreciatively as he walked up to Harry and gave him a hello kiss, arms wrapping around Harry's trim waist.

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself toady," Harry smiled and happily allowed Clive to kiss him again.

"Court day."

"Oh," Clive was a Wizarding Lawyer, a good one too, "How did it go?"

"Innocent."

"That's wonderful," this time Harry kissed him, knowing how hard Clive had been working to prove that the young witch didn't murder her family, "Who did it?"

"Her boyfriend. Thought without them to hold her back she'd run away with him. Bit of a nut case if you ask me," Clive pulled away from Harry slightly, "Did you get everything that the boys needed?"

"We did and we got a few things were expecting, like sorting out the past," Harry picked up the shirt he'd folded before Clive arrived and gently placed it in the trunk, "It feels good to clear everything out at last."

"What do you mean?" Clive asked with a frown.

"We bumped into Jason's other father and his children," Harry put the last shirt in the trunk and moved to the bag of books on the bed, putting them carefully into one corner of the trunk.

"Malfoy?!?" Clive physically recoiled, "You talked to him."

"Clive I've told you, it wasn't like the stories said. He was not bad to me or the children, if anything he was too good," Harry and Clive had had this talk many a time and Harry didn't even look up from his packing.

"What did you talk about?" Clive asked, his voice sounding slightly tense.

"We cleared the air, I explained what happened to me and he explained what happened to him," Harry shrugged, "It's ok. We just cleared the air."

"It's not ok!" Clive snapped, "Do you want to get back with him? Is that it? Is that why you wanted to 'clear the air', so you can jump into his bed again?!?" Harry turned to stare in shock at Clive whose face was slightly red around the edges.

"What?" Harry was completely shocked.

"Am I not good enough for you? Do you really want to go back to him?! Answer me Harry!" Clive had grabbed Harry by his upper arms and was shaking him now. Harry's eyes widened even more in shock.

"Clive! I don't want Draco! I'm with you! Why are you like this all of a sudden? We only talked because our sons have a right to know each other. There's nothing more Clive, I promise," Harry said with a frown. "What's wrong with you?" Clive seemed to visibly snap back into his normal state of mind, releasing Harry's arms and taking a step back suddenly.

"I'm sorry Harry, I don't…I mean…I'm just so jealous," Clive admitted quietly, "I don't want to loose you Harry."

"When have I ever given you the idea that you're going to?" Harry asked.

"You haven't…it's just that you're you and I'm just me and you could have anyone and…" Clive sighed and looked at his feet, "You always say that looking back he was perfect and I'm far from perfect."

"Clive. I don't want Draco. I'm with you. Now lets forget all about this and enjoy an evening together," Harry spoke calmly, leaning forwards to give Clive a kiss. "I've just got to finish this packing and then I'm gonna get started on tea. Pasta Carbonara with Garlic bread. Ice cream for pudding."

"That sounds great…I'm sorry for the way I reacted," Clive moved forwards again but this time it was to hug Harry gently, "I'll make it up to you," Harry smiled softly into Clive's shoulder.

"Well then you can start with helping me pack up Jason's stuff because it sounds like he's got a bit distracted downstairs," Harry referred of course to the two sets of young male laughter and the sound a comedy show on the television. "I'm finding it happens a lot. I don't envy his teachers with his attention span." Both men chuckled softly.

"What can I do?"

"His pyjama's actually. He'll need three sets."

"He sleeps in pyjama's?"

"Not yet, just a t-shirt and his boxers but I remember how cold it was at Hogwarts. It was the only place I ever wore pyjama's and I think it'll be the same for him too." Clive nodded in silent understanding and set about his task as Harry returned to the shirts and t-shirts he had been folding up.

A/N There we go, another update (at long last. Sorry for the delay.) Hope you liked it. Next chapter: 'The Meeting.'
- 7
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- 9
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The Power Of Love