Checkmate - Chapter 18 cookie!
Thank you so much to everyone who has been e-mailing me lately to threaten encourage me in finishing the last chapter. ;-) I do really appreciate hearing from you all. *g*
I am working on it - it's just both longer than expected and not going as fast as I would wish it to. So here's a little cookie - not much more than a crumb really, and as always, subject to rebaking. :) ::Hugs:: to blue__solace and morrigain for the quick read-throughs and kind reassurances. ^.^
Setting: Mid-morning - the day after the incident at the Portkey hub. Draco is in bed in the hospital wing, Harry sitting at the end of the bed - the conclusion of a long conversation in which Draco presses Harry to talk about why he is angry . . .
* * *
Checkmate, Chapter 18 cookie:
“I couldn’t depend on anyone else,” said Draco defensively. “There were too many uncertainties. I was taking a terrible chance as it was, counting on Dumbledore getting my message and arriving in time. And even then, I was only thinking of having him there to be a witness and to make sure you were safe. It wasn’t until I arrived at the Portkey hub about five minutes before you did that I found out he’d anticipated the danger I was in and had Aurors stationed there in advance.”
Draco looked away from Harry’s hard, unyielding expression for a second and took a deep breath. “You have to understand,” he said going on resolutely, “that the only thing I was certain of was that I knew my father. I knew he’d lash out and try to kill one of us when he realized what was happening, and I couldn’t assume that Dumbledore would be able to stop him. As many times as he threatened my life in the last couple of years, I had no doubt he’d go through with it. I just made sure to goad him enough that it was definitely me he was aiming for, not you.” He paused, glancing back up at Harry, meeting the angry green gaze levelly. “The entire wizarding world would have been badly demoralized if he had killed you, Harry,” he said bluntly, “but I wouldn’t have been missed.”
Harry made an inarticulate sound. “I would have missed you! Did you really think you could just . . . apologize and . . . and die . . . and I would get over it?” he asked incredulously. “I would have never gotten over it!”
Draco’s brave front seemed to crumble at Harry’s words, his shoulders sagged and he stared down at his hands, silent for a long moment. “I know,” he said finally, quietly. “That’s what the apology was for. I just never imagined, when I started this, that you would want . . . us. And it wasn’t until you told me about that girl that I realized how much I would be hurting you.”
“So your real plan,” said Harry tautly, “was to use me to trap your father into getting himself sentenced to life in prison to keep him from hurting me . . . and it didn’t matter if you died in the process because you didn’t think anyone would care. Is that it?”
“Essentially, yes,” said Draco with a weary sigh. He looked up at Harry, sadness creeping into the straight line of his mouth.
“Draco, what you planned would have hurt me even if I’d never started to love you!” said Harry, barely containing his need to yell this. “God, it would have hurt me even if I’d never known you. I don’t want anyone . . . else . . . to die for me!”
“But people will die in this war, Harry,” replied Draco softly. “Including people you love. Either one of us could still die. You must know that.”
“I do know that! That doesn’t mean I want to accept it,” said Harry furiously. “Bloody hell, Draco - I don’t know what I’m more angry about - that you used me like this or that you deliberately took such a terrible, idiotic, thoughtless chance with your life!”
“I did what I believed I had to do,” repeated Draco in a very low, hurt voice. Underneath the sadness in Draco’s mist-gray eyes there was still a grim determination that reminded Harry of steel. “I promise you it was anything but thoughtless. But if you want to think it was reckless and stupid and . . . and hate me for it, then that’s no more than what I expected.”
A wave of heat crossed Harry’s face and he sat staring at Draco, speechless.
In the long moment of silence that followed, they heard the door to the corridor open and close. A few seconds later Madam Pomfrey, carrying a pitcher of freshly made Reviving Potion and a cup, came in between the screens around Draco’s bed.
“Awake then, I see,” she said cheerfully to Draco. “How do you feel?”
“Okay, mostly,” said Draco in a tight voice. “Pretty weak. And it hurts . . . here.” His hand pressed a spot in the center of his chest.
Harry stood up abruptly.
“Well, that’s probably to be expected,” said Madam Pomfrey, “as that was the entry site of the curse. The pain should go away in a day or two, but I’m afraid you’re going to have a small curse scar there.” She poured a cupful of the potion and held it out to Draco. “Here. This will do a lot to help the pain and weakness.”
But Draco didn’t take the cup. At the mention of the curse scar, his hand had traveled up an inch or so to just below his collarbones and he’d glanced up at Harry with a stricken look in his eyes.
“I have to go,” said Harry.
Madam Pomfrey turned to look questioningly at Harry.
“I . . . I need to go back to my room and . . . change clothes,” said Harry. “I just . . .” All at once everything had become overwhelming, and he’d had enough. Enough of wearing dirty clothes. Enough of being in the hospital wing. Enough of Draco. “I just have to go,” he said again softly, and fled.
“Well, that seemed a bit sudden,” said Madam Pomfrey, still holding the cup. She looked down at Draco and saw that his face had gone even paler than it had been a moment ago. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m afraid he’s rather . . . upset . . . with me,” replied Draco, staring into the empty space where Harry had been. His hand was still at his throat, lying empty and bereft over the spot where Harry’s beautiful gift had once hung.
“I can’t say that I blame him, you know,” she said. “Not after what you put him through yesterday and last night.” She held out the cup again. “Here now,” she said. “Drink this down. I’m sure it will all come right, you’ll see.”
Draco’s hands trembled slightly as he took the cup from Madam Pomfrey. He took a tiny sip and gave a small, involuntary shudder at the taste. “No, it won’t,” he said, rather mournfully. “He hates me again.”
Madam Pomfrey laughed a short, light laugh. “I’m quite certain that’s not the case,” she said. “I think it’s more likely that he’s just now reacting to the terrible fright you gave him. He’s been far too busy taking care of you to let himself think about it before now.” She shook her head at Draco’s sorrowful expression, but smiled kindly. “Come on now, drink that. You’ll feel a world better for it.”
Draco took a deep breath and drank it down quickly. It tasted positively vile, but warmth and strength flowed into him as it went down. “Did he really stay . . . to take care of me?” he asked, as he handed the empty cup back.
“He did a lot more than that, dear,” said Madam Pomfrey.
A faint flush of color crept back into Draco’s face at the unexpected endearment, and he looked up at the nurse, his heart in his eyes. “Will you tell me what happened?”
* * *
Finishing Checkmate is my priority right now so there might not be March H/D art - that depends on if I get my piece for serpentinelion's Secrets and Wishes Fest done by the end of the month. _hibiscus asked for library sex. :D Eeee - my first R-rated pic. ;-)
I am working on it - it's just both longer than expected and not going as fast as I would wish it to. So here's a little cookie - not much more than a crumb really, and as always, subject to rebaking. :) ::Hugs:: to blue__solace and morrigain for the quick read-throughs and kind reassurances. ^.^
Setting: Mid-morning - the day after the incident at the Portkey hub. Draco is in bed in the hospital wing, Harry sitting at the end of the bed - the conclusion of a long conversation in which Draco presses Harry to talk about why he is angry . . .
* * *
Checkmate, Chapter 18 cookie:
“I couldn’t depend on anyone else,” said Draco defensively. “There were too many uncertainties. I was taking a terrible chance as it was, counting on Dumbledore getting my message and arriving in time. And even then, I was only thinking of having him there to be a witness and to make sure you were safe. It wasn’t until I arrived at the Portkey hub about five minutes before you did that I found out he’d anticipated the danger I was in and had Aurors stationed there in advance.”
Draco looked away from Harry’s hard, unyielding expression for a second and took a deep breath. “You have to understand,” he said going on resolutely, “that the only thing I was certain of was that I knew my father. I knew he’d lash out and try to kill one of us when he realized what was happening, and I couldn’t assume that Dumbledore would be able to stop him. As many times as he threatened my life in the last couple of years, I had no doubt he’d go through with it. I just made sure to goad him enough that it was definitely me he was aiming for, not you.” He paused, glancing back up at Harry, meeting the angry green gaze levelly. “The entire wizarding world would have been badly demoralized if he had killed you, Harry,” he said bluntly, “but I wouldn’t have been missed.”
Harry made an inarticulate sound. “I would have missed you! Did you really think you could just . . . apologize and . . . and die . . . and I would get over it?” he asked incredulously. “I would have never gotten over it!”
Draco’s brave front seemed to crumble at Harry’s words, his shoulders sagged and he stared down at his hands, silent for a long moment. “I know,” he said finally, quietly. “That’s what the apology was for. I just never imagined, when I started this, that you would want . . . us. And it wasn’t until you told me about that girl that I realized how much I would be hurting you.”
“So your real plan,” said Harry tautly, “was to use me to trap your father into getting himself sentenced to life in prison to keep him from hurting me . . . and it didn’t matter if you died in the process because you didn’t think anyone would care. Is that it?”
“Essentially, yes,” said Draco with a weary sigh. He looked up at Harry, sadness creeping into the straight line of his mouth.
“Draco, what you planned would have hurt me even if I’d never started to love you!” said Harry, barely containing his need to yell this. “God, it would have hurt me even if I’d never known you. I don’t want anyone . . . else . . . to die for me!”
“But people will die in this war, Harry,” replied Draco softly. “Including people you love. Either one of us could still die. You must know that.”
“I do know that! That doesn’t mean I want to accept it,” said Harry furiously. “Bloody hell, Draco - I don’t know what I’m more angry about - that you used me like this or that you deliberately took such a terrible, idiotic, thoughtless chance with your life!”
“I did what I believed I had to do,” repeated Draco in a very low, hurt voice. Underneath the sadness in Draco’s mist-gray eyes there was still a grim determination that reminded Harry of steel. “I promise you it was anything but thoughtless. But if you want to think it was reckless and stupid and . . . and hate me for it, then that’s no more than what I expected.”
A wave of heat crossed Harry’s face and he sat staring at Draco, speechless.
In the long moment of silence that followed, they heard the door to the corridor open and close. A few seconds later Madam Pomfrey, carrying a pitcher of freshly made Reviving Potion and a cup, came in between the screens around Draco’s bed.
“Awake then, I see,” she said cheerfully to Draco. “How do you feel?”
“Okay, mostly,” said Draco in a tight voice. “Pretty weak. And it hurts . . . here.” His hand pressed a spot in the center of his chest.
Harry stood up abruptly.
“Well, that’s probably to be expected,” said Madam Pomfrey, “as that was the entry site of the curse. The pain should go away in a day or two, but I’m afraid you’re going to have a small curse scar there.” She poured a cupful of the potion and held it out to Draco. “Here. This will do a lot to help the pain and weakness.”
But Draco didn’t take the cup. At the mention of the curse scar, his hand had traveled up an inch or so to just below his collarbones and he’d glanced up at Harry with a stricken look in his eyes.
“I have to go,” said Harry.
Madam Pomfrey turned to look questioningly at Harry.
“I . . . I need to go back to my room and . . . change clothes,” said Harry. “I just . . .” All at once everything had become overwhelming, and he’d had enough. Enough of wearing dirty clothes. Enough of being in the hospital wing. Enough of Draco. “I just have to go,” he said again softly, and fled.
“Well, that seemed a bit sudden,” said Madam Pomfrey, still holding the cup. She looked down at Draco and saw that his face had gone even paler than it had been a moment ago. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m afraid he’s rather . . . upset . . . with me,” replied Draco, staring into the empty space where Harry had been. His hand was still at his throat, lying empty and bereft over the spot where Harry’s beautiful gift had once hung.
“I can’t say that I blame him, you know,” she said. “Not after what you put him through yesterday and last night.” She held out the cup again. “Here now,” she said. “Drink this down. I’m sure it will all come right, you’ll see.”
Draco’s hands trembled slightly as he took the cup from Madam Pomfrey. He took a tiny sip and gave a small, involuntary shudder at the taste. “No, it won’t,” he said, rather mournfully. “He hates me again.”
Madam Pomfrey laughed a short, light laugh. “I’m quite certain that’s not the case,” she said. “I think it’s more likely that he’s just now reacting to the terrible fright you gave him. He’s been far too busy taking care of you to let himself think about it before now.” She shook her head at Draco’s sorrowful expression, but smiled kindly. “Come on now, drink that. You’ll feel a world better for it.”
Draco took a deep breath and drank it down quickly. It tasted positively vile, but warmth and strength flowed into him as it went down. “Did he really stay . . . to take care of me?” he asked, as he handed the empty cup back.
“He did a lot more than that, dear,” said Madam Pomfrey.
A faint flush of color crept back into Draco’s face at the unexpected endearment, and he looked up at the nurse, his heart in his eyes. “Will you tell me what happened?”
* * *
Finishing Checkmate is my priority right now so there might not be March H/D art - that depends on if I get my piece for serpentinelion's Secrets and Wishes Fest done by the end of the month. _hibiscus asked for library sex. :D Eeee - my first R-rated pic. ;-)