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Draconic Recall	By : VividRain Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1960 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
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Draconic Recall

It was with customary stealth that Harry snuck down to the kitchen, feeling decidedly young again. He loved these little traditions that he kept up in memory of soft red hair and a kind smile. It was what preserved her memory in his mind far more then any photograph or tombstone could.
His cane, a mahogany stick topped with jade, tapped out a soothing rhythm on old beloved stone floors. Hogwart's would always be his home and every echo of familiar walls was a reminder of that. He thought of his students all safe in their beds with little anxiety past exams and petty quarrels and smiled. No one had believed that they would live to see peace again in his last year as a student here, but this generation of Gryffindors was the first who could not remember the War.
Everyone knew of Harry's eccentric late night walks by now, at least anyone who mattered. But for old time sake he made an effort of quiet, walking in the shadows and carefully muffling the sound of his cane. The kitchen beckoned cheerily, the light still on, some house elf undoubtedly working over time. Harry would have to shoo the poor thing out so he could get to his secret stash, but no matter. He walked in, thinking little more then of some excuse to send the elf away.
"Really Potter." A familiar drawl snapped his attention to the preparation table in the middle of the giant kitchen. Sitting in a tall stool and sipping at a cup of tea was Professor Snape, a slight sneer on his lips. "I would have thought you'd grown out of sneaking around the halls."
"Oh do shut up, Sev." Harry shot back. He placed an affectionate kiss on the glowering face, before heading to his hidden cupboard under the frying panes. Excellent, it was still there. He returned to the table with a box of muggle cookies and a large glass of milk.
"Indulging your sweet tooth, Potter?" Snape sneered, but not until after he tak taken one of the cookies and bitten into it himself. They clasped free hands, entwining their fingers.
"It's Ginny's birthday." His voice lowered a little in reverence.
"Of course, how could I forget."
Snape's mere presence suggested that he had not at all forgotten. It was a courtesy he extended to Harry to be present on days of memory, just as Harry was there for his. They never acknowledged it, but it had long since passed into tradition. The two of them occasionally shared more then that, a relationship that had changed so many times that it had been inevitable to be on again off again lovers.
They sat in silence as Harry indulged in this tradition, remembering the way Ginny had giggled the first time they had celebrated her birthday with stolen milk and cookies. They had been children still at the time and delighted by such things. After the War, it was what remained with them as a memory of simpler times.
"You bought her roses—the last time." Harry said suddenly, remembering the last birthday wif wife had celebrated. "One white, one pink and one red."
"Yes. You got her some of that insufferable music she was so fond of."
"Country!" Harry said with a shudder, though sometimes, especially after she was gone, he would listen to a song or two. The sound was Ginny. "And Draco bought her that hideous green necklace that somehow looked good on her."
"He had an eye for fine things." Sev said lightly, before looking away.
Silence fell between them, old and companionable, but thick with memories and sorrow. So much lay between them besides the wood of the table. The enmity of far away school days, the later harsh working relationship during the war and the strange love they shared were a part of it, but those were the only the surface layers. There was Ginny's body in a puddle of blood the day she was mugged and beaten to death and Draco, who had taken ten long years to die.
"Hey, Potter! Cripple Race!" Draco yelled the challenge with malicious glee as Harry exited his classroom. He rolled his eyes at the blonde's antics, but fell in next to him.
In the battle against Voldemort, Harry's leg had been shattered and later, painstakingly healed. It had been too little too late; he was left with a severe limp, his right leg almost entirely useless. A small price to pay for the final victory. Far less then Draco had suffered. For his betrayal against the Dark Lord, he had been left with a blood curse. Originally, the curse had been meant to cut the brain's contact with the body one limb and sense at a time over a period of days or weeks, but Voldemort had twisted it, forcing it to extend over long years. Every October 5 Draco would wake up screaming, something else robbed from him in the night. At the time, only a year had passed since the war, so Draco's only loss the use of one leg to mid-thigh. No cure could be found.
"No challenge, I can run your arse into the ground any day." Harry sneered, aware that his students were watching. Not proper decorum at all for a DADA teacher. Ever since the war, Harry had stopped caring about what was proper. Better to bring a smile to the pre-aged faces of these children. n yon your dreams, Potter! To the end of the hall and back?"
"Done. Ready, set—."
But Draco was already off, bastard Slytherin that he was and gamely, Harry followed. It should have been a pathetic sight; the two crippled young men limping like lunatics down a long hallway. Instead, it was just amusing and a little exhilarating with the kids cheering them on. Draco loved competition and Harry never failed to indulge him, not any more.
The blonde, even with his head start, arrived at the end wall several seconds behind Harry. Not bad considering Harry's leg was only stiff where as Draco's was completely numb. But part of their friendship meant never acknowledging weakness. They were both sweaty and panting from the minor emersion.
"Ten points to Gryffindor." Harry said, smugly. "For speed against adversity."
"Fifteen points to Slytherin for graciously allowing Gryffindor to maintain its dignity." Draco returned, leaning against the wall. He looked paler then usual, the light bags under his eyes subtly deeper.
"Not getting enough beauty sleep, Drake?"
Drake meant seriousness, despite the tone, a code they had devised while Draco had played double agent.
"No." The voice was tight. "It's September—"
"Worried about it already?" There was no good way to ask, so Harry spilled it. "You can't think about it to much."
"It's not that. Well, it is, but other then. Bloody hell. Not out here. Let's go hide in the staff lounge."
Obediently, Harry followed as Draco dragged himself through the halls until they reached the relative sanctity of the lounge. It was a comfortable old room with plenty of couches and chairs that always smelled a little of mothballs. Once a year, some students were invited to take tea there and they reported back to their friends how dull it was, thus securing privacy from curious young eyes.
The two young men settled in soft chairs, near a low window that looked out over the Quidditch field. They stared at the view, mirror pangs of regret in their chest. Flying, especially the trick flying they had both excelled at, was no longer an option.
"What's this all about then?" Harry asked finally.
"It's Sev." The blonde admitted immediately. "The man is insufferable—I may wake up next month not able to—you know—and he refuses to listen to reason! He's always pushing me away when I want to talk about, feeding me excuses."
"What? I thought you convinced him already, didn't you have that huge fight over the summer to settle it all?"
"I thought we had." Draco growled out. "But then he went away on that stupid ingredient gathering trip and I couldn't go—."There had been far to much hiking, but neither of the boys said it. "And by the time he came back, school was about to start and he was the same stubborn way all over again. I think I'm going nutters! And I've got a case of blue balls you wouldn't believe—Harry?"
The other young man had turned the most alarming state of red, his fists opening and closing at his sides.
"Drake, where's Snape now?"
"Where he always is these days, in his lab."
Draco had been teaching potions this year while Snape applied himself full time to the making of several emergency potions to treat post-war injuries and traumas. When he wasn't mass-producing healing draughts, the older man looked for cures for the stranger maladies that had struck down warriors of the good side.
"All right." The Man Who Lived stood slowly. "I'm going to go have a chat with him. Go and teach your next class."
"Don't you dare hurt him!" The blonde rose quickly, trying to ignore the brief dizziness that overtook him. "I'm not some blushing virgin whose honor you must defend, Potter!"
"I never said you were. Go teach. I promise not to hurt him."
With that, Harry began the long walk down to the dungeons. He knew that Draco would do as he asked. The other man had trusted Harry to help him many times before he would do so again. True rage beat in Harry's blood and he was bizarrely grateful for it. It made him feel alive to be this angry.
Eventually he arrived at the laboratory door, knocking politely. A young fresh-faced Slytherin answered and asked him to wait in the sitting room while she fetched the Professor. Harry tapped his cane in an impatient staccato against the floor.
"Professor Potter. To what to I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Despite their years of fighting together, Snape still took greedy joy out of snarking at Harry. The younger man was in no mood.
"It's about Draco and the utterly despicable way you have been treating him! I have held my tongue for nearly a year, but I won't stand by and watch you hurt him anymore! Do you know how much he loves you? Every time you push him away, a little bit of him dies and he has to come to me to fix it. It's killing him!"
"What Mr. Malfoy and I do in our spare time is not you concern Mr. Potter."
"It's my concern when the person you're hurting is my friend! Do you know what his biggest fear about his curse is? That he might loose something before he has a chance to be with you! Not that he might never see, speak or hear again or loose all feeling in his other leg or his arms! For some bizarre reason, the only thing he's worried about is you!" Harry took a deep breath to continue, but Snape's dry tone cut into him.
"I'm well aware of Mr.Malfoy's fears, Mr. Potter. If you are so concerned about his sexual well being, then perhaps you can see to it yourself."
"You bloody git!" Harry snarled. "Is that what this all about? Denying him because you think we're shagging? In case, it slipped your mind, I'm getting married on Christmas to Ginny Weasley."
"I found you in bed together—"
"That was three bloody years ago and we were sleeping! Fully clothed! And we spent half the night talking about you. You're the main reason he decided to change sides! How jealous are you, Professor that you can't let go of even that?"
"He loves you." Snape said firmly. "You've got him wrapped around your little finger. You make him weak with your defenses. You protect him from everything."
"Only because you won't!" Harry cried, loosing all patience with a man, whom he had some grudging respect for. "He loves me as a friend as I love him and if you're willing to toss him out of your bed for a transgression he did not commit long before he told you how he felt then you're an even bigger bastard then I thought." Harry stared at him, comprehension slowly dawning. "You're afraid—you're afraid to take care of him! The idea of him growing weaker scares the daylights out of you! That's why you keep pushing him away. You don't want to take care of him at all!"
"How dare you say that to me—"
"Because it's true." A soft voice drew both their attentions to the door. Draco was there, looking drawn, leaning hard on his cane. "All my life at Hogwart's I knew I could turn to you, Sev. You helped me through so much and then, seventh year came and it was like I didn't exist. I had to go to Harry to help get through turning on my father and you couldn't handle that in your absence I found someone else. I often wonder if you wiped your hands of me then."
"Draco—" Severus halted, searching for words. "I thought that you loved—you said—"
"I say a lot of things that you don't listen to." The blonde continued. "Like that I love you more then anyone else in the world or that I'm scared to death of what I might lose on the fifth or that I'd rather die then find out, if you aren't there to help me."
"Drake!" Surprise and terror provoked the cry from Harry's lips. "You never told me—"
"It wasn't any of your business Potter though you seem head strong in making it yours. I told you: I'm no blushing virgin that needs protecting. I chose my dragon and I'll fight him until I get what I want." Ice blue eyes turned on Snape, who had become quiet since Draco's tirade.
"I think we should discuss this somewhere more—private." Snape sounded choked, a few tears in his eyes.
"I agree. Hit the road, Potter."
Obediently, Harry made for the exit, only turning at the last moment to see that Draco had gone to the Severus and pulled the taller man into a reassuring hug. Amazing, Draco was the one who truly had something to fear and he was comforting Snape.
It seemed to have worked though. Harry's heart nearly burst with joy as he said his vows on Christmas day with family and friends looking on. He could see from the corner of his eye, in the second row, Draco leaning against Snape, the older man's arm around the blonde's shoulders. Malfoy's useless left arm hung straight from his body.
Being married to Ginny was one of the best things that had ever happened to Harry. She brightened his life like a star, busy and warm. Together they brought joy to Hogwart's again, trying to bring smiles to the faces of students who had lost their families and their innocence in the span of a few months.
Ginny was like magic. Her quiet voice and soft hands mothered dozens of boys and girls when her womb produced none. Her multitude of nephews and nieces poured into the halls filling Gryffindor with a new generation of red headed mischief-makers. The other houses filled in their ranks slower, leaving many empty rooms. Slytherin took the longest to rebuild, but it gradually strengthed, freed of the evil taint that had plagued it for so long. Under the ever vigilant eyes of Snape, the once suspect house was growing it's own respectable traditions. They would always be a little darker then the others with a cunning edge, but even Harry had learned that darkness had its place, even in Hogwart's as long as it wasn't malicious darkness.
"Harry! You just poured three cups of sugar into the cookies!" Ginny scolded, smiling at his vague surprise. "Honestly, I wonder where your mind goes sometimes."
"Sorry, love. I was thinking about how almost all the seats will be full tonight in the Great Hall." He said with a rueful grin, trying to make rapid repair work on the dough.
"Of course, dear. Draco! Get your fingers out of my pie!"
The blonde laughed licking the strawberry filling from his fingers. It was another First of the Year and Ginny always insisted on making her own baked goods for the feast. Harry and Draco were supposed to be helping, but it seemed they were only making a mess of things.
"Sorry, Mrs. Potter." Draco drawled. " Your baking is just too good for be to pass up."
"That's it!" Ginny said with a sigh. "Both of you get out of my kitchen! Useless lumps of magic both of you."
Laughing, Draco commanded his chair to take him into the sitting room with a repentant Harry at his heels. The magic controlled chair set Draco down next to the fire and Harry sank into a seat besides him. For a few minutes they sat together, staring into the flame laughing every so often when Ginny ducked her head in to make sure they were behaving themselves.
"Are you ready for another year?" Harry asked finally.
"As ready as I'll ever be." The pale right hand flexed opening and closing, the only limb that remained under his control. There had been some debate as to whether or not he could maintain his teaching position, but Snape had more time now, so he could take on the easier courses.
"You know I hate to ask—but are you and Snape getting on all right?"
A brief smile flickered across pale lips.
"Everything's fine. He lives in terror of one of your speeches. Did you have to terrorize the poor man, again?"
Harry blanched. He didn't think that Draco knew about the latest berating over the summer when Snape had been considering a trip to the states where, of course, Draco couldn't follow. The young man rarely left the castle at all any more and he was too afraid of loosing Snape to actually confront him. So Harry and Ginny had double-teamed on the potion master until he agreed to hold off his sabbatical.
"I just want you to be happy." Harry said finally. "And though I don't think I'll ever understand why, he does make you happy."
"It's funny, isn't it? Just five years ago you would have rather kiss Ron then do something to make me happy."
"Things change." Harry said vaguely, a blush rising to his cheeks. "You've saved my life and helped me propose to Ginny."
"Hold on a minute, Mr. Potter! You kissed the Weasel?!"
Harry sighed a little.
"Just the once. Look, don't make a big deal about it. Ginny doesn't know. It was a dare in sixth year."
"You are such a slut, Potter." Draco smirked. "Whom else have you planted those lips on?"
"Uh...George, Fred and Charlie. It was the same night!" He protested the minute he saw Draco's horrified expression. "It was over that summer and we got a little drunk—they dared me!"
"And the great Potter never turns down a dare." Draco shook his head. "You're a Weasley slut. That's so pathetic."
" At least I've kissed someone besides my spouse! Who would ever think that Draco Malfoy was a prude—"
"I should never have told you that." Draco muttered, red rising to his cheeks.
"What? That you were a virgin until you were twenty?" Harry teased, still delighting in making Malfoy squirm.
"Shut it, Potter." The blonde warned, turning away.
"Do you ever wish—" Harry trailed off, suddenly unable to ask the question. It was one that had been on the tip of his tongue since Draco, piss drunk, had admitted that he had never been with anyone. That had been in the middle of the war, one dark night and Harry, his heart aching had offered. The same wistful smile Draco had worn that night graced his lips now.
"Sometimes." The other man's good hand came to rest on Harry's own, squeezing almost tight enough to hurt. "I wish it had been you, Harry. I wish my heart had been smarter. But it wasn't. It isn't. I love him, Harry. Even when it hurts so deep I think I'm going to die."
Harry interlaced his fingers with his ex-archenemies and took a painful breath. In the kitchen, Ginny moved among the pots and hands, humming a little off tune. He felt tears sting his eyes.
"I love Ginny." He said softly. "Everything about her. But if you had said yes that night..."
"Don't." Draco cut him off, his voice thick. "It's best not to think of such things."
"I've finished the tarts, dear. Do you boys want an early taste?"
"Yes, please." They both chimed, the moment forever broken, but engrained in their hearts.
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Draconic Recall