Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 8
- 9
- 10
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: As always, thanks to both Jamie and Sevfan. Bertie’s Every Flavor Beans are on the way this time! Also, don’t expect the levity to last.

Chapter Nine – Actors Must Learn Their Lines

“Malfoy,” a voice whispered, breaking Draco’s concentration from his Arithmancy studies. He brought his head up and cocked an eyebrow at the distraction. Of course it was Potter, looking absolutely ridiculous and charming in his hospital garments. He was standing in the doorway of his room, looking around to see if there was anyone coming. They weren’t. Draco was all alone with Potter, for a change.

Intrigued, Draco closed his book and gave the other teen a smirk before standing and joining him. He bit back a yelp of surprise as he was yanked back into the Gryffindor’s room. “Unhand me, Potter,” he snarled, shaking the offending black-haired man’s hands from his robes. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I thought you were going to call me Harry?”

The blond blinked in surprise at the look of hurt in Potter’s green eyes. He had to fight back a feeling of extreme guilt before he could reply. “I do believe that you were going to call me by my proper name as well. However, since you set the precedence by calling me by my surname, I only returned the favor.”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned. “Can’t you speak less ‘pompous git’ and more ‘regular bloke’?”

Draco felt a small smile threatening to show and didn’t fight it. “What did you want, Harry?” He tasted the other teen’s name on his tongue. It was like victory.

“You have to get me out of here,” Harry said lowly. “I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I’m about to start climbing the walls, without magic.”

“And you want me to orchestrate a breakout? Isn’t that Granger’s forté? Or do you require a blind dragon again?”

“No, just a blond one, if you could stop being such a berk.”

Draco snorted at the joke. “Well done, Harry. Your wit certainly has improved.”

“Malfoy…”

“Listen, Harry, I’m not sure what you want me to do.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Besides, I’m not entirely sure that I would be able to assist you, unless you had your Invisibility Cloak with you.”

“No,” the other teen growled. “It’s at my home, with my stupid house elf.”

“House elf? Moving up in the world, are we?” he teased. The look on Harry’s face, however, was not amused. “Why not just call it then? Surely, your house elf would have no problem coming into the hospital and assisting its master?”

“Oh, I’m sure Kreacher would come running the second I called him, especially with you standing there.” Draco said nothing, waiting for the other teen to elaborate. “He used to belong to my godfather, so he’s a Black house elf. He’s also responsible for Sirius’s death… along with your mother and that bitch Bellatrix.”

The almost animalistic way Harry snarled his aunt’s name made Draco take a step back, dropping his hands to his side and readying his wand. “I was unaware of that, Potter,” he whispered calmly. “You seem to have forgiven my mother for her part.”

“She was just doing what she could to protect you and Lucius,” the black-haired boy answered, seeming almost normal again. However, Draco wasn’t stepping closer to him unless he had to do so. “I don’t blame her, not really. Sirius was being stupid and not paying attention while dueling with Bellatrix. He…” Green eyes slid shut and Potter’s whole body seemed to go rigid.

“You don’t have to continue if it’s difficult,” Draco said in a moment of sympathy. He was pinned where he stood when Harry’s green eyes shot open and carefully examined him, as if he was an interesting potion ingredient or a rare animal species.

“You know, for a second there, I was almost convinced that you might be a normal bloke.”

“Well, allow me to abuse you of that notion. There is nothing remotely mundane about my personage.”

“Ugh, again with that pompous git talk… Look, are you going to help me or not?”

“As I said, I’m not sure what I could do to assist you. Perhaps if you gave me some time to think, I could consult with my mother and we could come up with a plan...” Draco trailed off purposely, waiting for Potter’s temper to flair. When the other teen merely stood there, silently contemplating Draco’s words, the blond breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Perhaps things could progress well after all. If I can just get Mother to not pull any more stupid stunts like with the reporters again. That could have been much uglier…’

“Alright, I guess another day won’t kill me,” Harry said after a prolonged silence.

“Have you spoken to your Healer? Surely you’ve been told something.”

“Yeah, she said that she’s come up with nothing physically wrong with me, except for the bump on my head and some stress on my liver and kidneys…”

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. ‘We’re only eighteen. What could Potter have done to strain his organs so much that the Healer was cautioning him?’ “Why is that?”

“Um, something about surviving the Killing Curse twice putting strain on all my internal organs and that drinking heavily has only exacerbated the problems.”

“And has she discussed a regime of potions to assist in repairing the damage?” ‘Surely the Healer would do so. Potter was the bloody Saviour after all.’

“Not yet,” Harry answered slowly. “Or maybe she did and I didn’t hear her. It’s been kinda stressful around this hellhole lately.”

“Well, if you hear about that, I could possibly brew them for you. I’m not Severus, of course, but I am a dab hand at Potions, if you’ll remember.”

That comment seemed to bring up some memory for the black-haired teen and he smiled wryly. “Yeah, when you weren’t sabotaging my own mediocre efforts, you were pretty good, Draco.” He sighed huffily. “I’ll let you know.”

The blond had to force down a noise of surprise. “Really?” Harry’s questioning look had Draco trying to answer him quickly. “You’d trust something I brewed? I was sure you’d tell me that you’d have Granger take care of it.”

“Hermione’s got enough on her plate. She’d do it if I asked, because it’s important and she loves me, but I’d rather not burden her with something like this when she’s trying to deal with her parents and Ron.”

‘So, maybe there was some merit in the reporters’ questions about him and Granger, regardless of his apparent attraction to me,’ Draco thought sourly, feeling his lips curl into a sneer. “I was under the impression that you and the Weaselette were dating and that Granger was with the Weasel.”

“She is, and I haven’t been with Ginny since the summer,” Harry shot back defensively.

His vehemence about the Weasley girl forced Draco to take a deep breath. “I see,” he said finally.

“Mr. Malfoy?” Healer Mindwillow said, his voice cutting any more conversation between the boys out. “Mr. Malfoy, I need to speak to you.” Draco sighed and stepped out into the hallway to face the bored looking Healer as he searched around the empty halls.

“You requested my presence?” Draco drawled, feeling his ire at the lazy man rise to the surface. He could hear Harry move behind him, but he didn’t care if his former rival heard what was happening. “Have you had any news about a Curse Breaker?”

“Yes and no… The only Curse Breaker that isn’t out on assignment from Gringotts is Mr. Bill Weasley. I did, however, have the opportunity to speak with the head goblin, Razzleshot, about the situation,” Mindwillow said, consulting his notes. “He said that it’s definitely something that can be corrected, but it would be a long, arduous and costly treatment.”

“And only Weasley is available?” Draco asked, feeling as if his father was about to die. “There’s no way he’d help in this case.”

“Yes, that’s what Razzleshot thought as well, but he did say that he’d try to talk to Mr. Weasley about helping.”

“Draco,” Harry said. His voice was strong and sure from his position behind Draco. The blond turned to face him, trying not to let his despair show. He must have failed because Harry came forward and placed a warm, large hand on one of his arms. “I told you that I’d talk to Bill. Do you want me to?”

Draco’s world came crashing down around his ears. It was all too much. The only person who could help his father was the man who Draco was semi-responsible for disfiguring, from a family that hated his own. What was he going to do? And there was Potter, of all people, offering to intervene on his behalf, to help a man who’d wanted him dead. His early words about Harry being justified in wishing his father far away and helpless to hurt anyone else rang in his ears and weighed heavily on his heart. They didn’t, however, keep him from nodding morosely.

“Is… is this treatment… something that has to be done here?” he whispered, feeling so young and frightened. “Or would I be able to take him home?”

“I’ll have to examine him again before I can determine that,” Mindwillow replied. “It would help if you could speak to Mr. Weasley as soon as possible, Mr. Potter.”

“I’ll get on that. Do you have an owl that I could borrow? I’d like to write Bill a letter, asking him to come to the hospital,” Harry asked nervously.

“Certainly,” the Healer answered. “If you write your letter, I’ll send it for you.”

“Thanks.” Draco was startled when Harry placed his other hand on the blond’s shoulder and turned him around. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I… I have to contact my mother,” Draco whispered. “She needs to know.”

“I can call Kreacher, if you need me to,” Harry offered with a small smile.

“No, thank you. I’d rather not have to kick any creatures right now.” His attempt at a joke made the other teen’s smile widen, and he felt a small place in his cold body warm like a stone on a sunny day.

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

Narcissa glared at the house-elf’s noisy appearance, but before she could scold it for the intrusion on her sleep, the elf squeaked. “Dippy is being very sorry for interrupting Mistress’s rest, but Master Draco is calling for you to come to the hospital. He is saying it is important and that Dippy is to be making sure you is coming as soon as can be.”

“That’s fine, Dippy. Bring me tea, and I’ll have Manky help me dress.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the elf replied before popping out. A few seconds later, Manky, Narcissa’s personal elf, appeared with her tea cozy sitting crookedly on her tiny frame.

“You called Manky, Mistress Narcissa?”

“Yes, Manky, I did,” Narcissa said, irritated at all the noise. “I need you to pick out a robe for me to wear to the hospital, and to do it quickly.” The elf disappeared into her large dressing closet and Dippy reappeared with a tea tray, complete with a pot of steaming liquid, cup, milk, and honey. A perfect cup was placed before her, and Narcissa sipped it delicately to avoid being burned by the hot drink while Manky brought out a set of day robes. When she was done with both the tea and getting dressed, Manky helped her dress her hair in a delicate French roll at the base of her neck and selected a silver torque and ice-blue aquamarine earrings that Lucius purchased before Draco’s birth.

While she did this, Narcissa avoided thinking about the reason her son was calling her to the hospital before she was supposed to come and relieve him. She knew that he must have news regarding his father’s condition, and that it had to be drastic for him to call her the way he did. However, she was trying very hard to calm her wildly beating heart and to stop the wild speculations that her brain was conjuring up. She’d know soon enough what was wrong, but that fact did nothing for the nervousness that was bubbling under the surface of her carefully constructed mask of serenity.

When she was done, Narcissa dismissed both elves and stowed her wand up the sleeve of her robe before making her way to the main hall so that she could Floo directly into St. Mungo’s.

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

It was an unusual group gathered outside of Lucius Malfoy’s private hospital room in St. Mungo’s that late February night. Narcissa Malfoy clutched desperately the hand of her son, Draco, while they stared stony faced as they listened to Healer Mindwillow enumerate the many things that could be done to assist Lucius until a Curse Breaker could be found who would take the case. They were joined by an equally unexpressive Harry Potter, who had ink splashed along the sleeves of his hospital garments. None appeared to like what it was that the Healer was telling them about the situation.

“As I told Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, your husband will only get better physically. The magical backlash that Healer Jacobi diagnosed him with back in June has progressed to a point where nothing we do will ever bring him back to where he was mentally before the Final Battle,” Mindwillow said as if he was speaking to idiots.

“I understand that, Healer,” Narcissa said coldly, narrowing blue eyes on the repulsive creature before her. “What I asked was if there was a way to delay the decay of his mind? So that we might have a few more months with him fairly lucid?”

“Well, I think that some Wit Sharpening potions might stave off the more serious aspects, but there is no cure for this.”

“As you have already said,” Draco sneered, feeling Harry’s hand on his back and unconsciously relaxing into the other man’s touch. “What if a Strengthening Potion was added to the Wit Sharpening potions?”

“I can’t see that they would hurt,” the Healer said, taking a step back from the group before him. “The best thing we can do for Lucius would be to have the Curse Breaker attend to him immediately.”

“I wrote to Bill already,” Harry said, keeping his voice low so only Draco and Narcissa could hear him. “I know that neither of you are crazy about the idea, but he’s good at his job. Besides, the goblins say that he’s the only one available.”

Draco watched as his mother placed a gentle hand on the former Gryffindor’s arm and gave him a fond smile. “Mr. Potter, I appreciate your assistance in this instance. If you believe that Mr. Weasley would be willing to help, I will trust you.”

“Draco?” Harry asked. It felt as if there was a world of things being asked by that one word, and the blond turned so he could fully see Harry.

“I trust you,” he whispered. His mother’s hand grasping his own tightened momentarily while Harry seemed to be utterly gobsmacked. If it hadn’t been such a dire situation, Draco would have reveled in being the one who’d put that look on the Saviour’s face, but he could hardly muster enough energy to care. He turned to face the Healer, who was still staring at the three of them with a look of fear and confusion. “If we can get Mr. Weasley to agree to help my father, would he have to stay here?”

“No, I guess not, Mr. Malfoy, but I would have your personal Healer see to him as soon as humanly possible.”

“That is doable,” Narcissa said, dismissing the Healer with a negligible nod of the head before turning to Harry. “Mr. Potter, how may we assist you?”

“You can get me the hell out of here,” he answered quickly. Draco watched as his mother gave the other teen a very warm smile.

“I believe that Draco and I can assist your freedom, as you once helped us with ours,” she said happily.

TBC

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Here But For the Grace of Merlin