Ambivalent Lucidity Rewrite
Title: Ambivalent Lucidity
Rating: Currently R
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Summary: When Draco Malfoy's mental health mysteriously declines, he is placed under the care of the only person he responds to: Harry Potter.
Warnings: (Future) Violence, rape, character death, mental illnesses, slash, Pre-HBP
Beta-read by cluelesschase.
The general air about the older Gryffindors was one of resentment and confusion as they found that Draco Malfoy was not only eating with them, but following them to their dormitory. While Hermione stuck close to Harry, Seamus pulled Ron to the rear and gestured to the clingy Draco and the obviously agitated Harry he was attached to. “You’re telling me,” he began to rant, “that that... that slime is staying in our dormitory?! If he says one goddamned word to me -ONE- then it’s all over for him. I’ll cut his throat in his sleep.” He drew his finger horizontally across his throat and shook his head.
Harry happened to hear the last few phrases out of Seamus’s mouth, and he whipped around suddenly, eyes ablaze with emerald fury. “Listen, Seamus. He’s sick. I’m not any happier about this situation than you are, damn it, but I’ve got to take care of him and you have to get used to it!” The crowd of Gryffindors had stopped to witness this encounter, and Hermione rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder, holding him back. “I’m fucking tired, and I’m not going to deal with your shit all night. If you fuck with Draco, I’m going to get in trouble for it, so sod off!” This reaction shut Seamus up quickly, and the Irishman dropped his head and hurried past, ignoring the whispers that spread like wildfire before him. “Come on, Malfoy,” Harry snapped irritably, taking Draco’s arm and pushing him up the staircase towards Gryffindor Tower.
Hermione followed closely, smiling at her best friend with a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “It’s just been a couple of hours, Harry, and I think you’re becoming attached to him...” she suggested, laughing when he shot her a nasty look. “No, really, it’s admirable that you’re standing up for him even though that’s not really what you’re supposed to be doing. That’s very... grown-up of you.”
He wrinkled his nose at her and shook his head, “Honestly, I’d rather be a child than have to deal with this, Hermione. What if he can’t go to the loo by himself? Or what if he can’t... I don’t know, brush his own teeth or something? This is more than just me trying to fix him; it’s me playing mother! I can’t deal with another person’s personal hygiene... That’s gross,” he admitted, and he diverted his gaze to Draco, whose normally perfect appearance was rather ruffled and unkempt. The real Draco would have had an aneurysm, and the messy hair and dark circles under his eyes were a testament to just exactly how out of his mind he must have been. Grey eyes turned to meet his own, and, for just a moment, Harry was certain he saw a glimmer of lucidity in them before they closed, and Draco leaned his head against Harry’s shoulder.
“He’s tired,” Hermione observed, and she felt her chest tighten inexplicably as Harry, without missing a beat, plucked the lightweight Slytherin off his feet and hoisted him into his arms. Harry really was falling into the caretaker role very easily, and though it was obvious that he resented this new casting, she knew that he would assume responsibility as he always did. “I should think he’ll be able to go to the loo himself, Harry, but you might have to help him with his hair and-er-maybe showering or something. I suppose you’ll find out when the time comes, but I wouldn’t concern myself so much with that, and focus on keeping him functioning instead.”
Harry huffed to himself, and climbed through the portrait hole, turning to look at Hermione before smiling weakly and nodding. “I’ll try... I’d better get him to bed. See you tomorrow.” He sounded exhausted himself, and when he reached the dormitory and found the extra bed for Malfoy near his own, he was glad to set the other down on the warm bed. “Can you undress yourself?” he asked quietly, and he frowned as Draco looked away. “Wonderful. Hold on...”
He retreated to Draco’s trunk and opened it, finding immaculately stacked clothes and other personal belongings. Withdrawing a pair of soft grey pyjamas, he closed the trunk again before moving to sit on the bed with Draco, proceeding to draw the drapes on the four-poster so they might have a moment of privacy. “Are these all right?” He received no negative answer, so he moved to take off Draco’s sneakers and robes for him. Draco seemed very self-conscious of this even in this mental state, and Harry kept his eyes securely fastened on the other’s face as he stripped him down to pants before helping him into the warm pyjamas. “There,” Harry sighed before he opened the drapes and folded Draco’s robes before moving to get ready for bed himself.
Ron came up a moment later, finding Harry half-dressed in sleep clothes, and he managed a feeble smile. “Sorry, mate,” he said quietly, and he gestured to the already-slumbering Slytherin. “This is the last thing we need this year, eh?” He sat down on his bed and flopped back onto the pillow, still completely clothed. “Just when we thought he was annoying enough, he pulls this... D’you think maybe it’s an elaborate prank? Death Eaters making a laugh for themselves?”
Harry sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug. “No matter what it is, it’s fucking annoying and I don’t feel like analysing it any further tonight, thanks...” His tone really was uncalled for, but this entire situation was starting off on the wrong foot, in his opinion. He should have been warned, he should have been consulted at least a little before the Ministry decided to change his entire life for him. Heaving a heavy sigh, he threw himself carelessly onto the bed and buried himself in blankets to fall asleep just as his head came into contact with the pillow.
A few days of classes passed, and Harry was nearing his wits’ end with Malfoy’s helplessness. He was forced to help his charge dress, shower, even walk sometimes (if Draco was not having a bad day, when Harry would have to stay out of class and figure out complex spells by himself), and so, as he fell asleep late Friday evening in his bed, he was looking forward to a full night’s sleep and a restful weekend. This, the purest of all sleep, was abruptly and rudely interrupted, however, as he woke up to a desperate screeching and the sound of ripping cloth, and he threw his drapery aside to find his dorm-mates awake and glaring in his direction. “Do something!” Dean yelled, gesturing to Draco’s bed.
Harry grumbled and hauled himself out of bed, hurrying to his charge’s bedside and throwing open the curtains to find Draco thrashing madly, muttering to himself in an unrecognizable tongue. “Hey, HEY!” Harry yelled, sitting down on the mattress and restraining the other’s arms as they snatched at the air in a blind attempt to seize Harry. “Calm down, Draco! You’re all right!” These words seemed to calm Draco for a moment, though in those stormy eyes there was a feral, wild shadow, and he violently, suddenly reached for Harry’s face with his fingernails poised to rip into his flesh.
“Get away from me,” He hissed in a nasty, horrible voice that made Harry’s heart stand still. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me! Let me GO!” By the end of this, he was screaming, eyes bloodshot and as large as tangerines. His nails caught Harry’s forearms as he was hauled into the Gryffindor’s chest, his face buried against that neck, and there was a sudden shudder that rocked both boys. Fingernails slowly eased back from the tortured flesh, and Harry soon felt burning tears on his collarbone, dripping down into his pyjamas, and he slowly trailed his open palms up Draco’s shuddering back.
When Draco’s tears dried, Harry took him back to his bed, tucking him in before climbing into the blankets beside him and staring at the ceiling as he was cuddled up to. An arm slowly wound its way around Malfoy’s waist, and he found himself holding tightly onto the other as the other boys fell asleep one by one. He drew the drapes closed and found that a small smile tipped the right side of his lips as the breath against his neck slowed and evened out, and he knew that Draco would never sleep alone again. As sickening as the thought was, he found that, whilst angry about it, it was not the most unreasonable idea-the other boys would thank him for keeping his burden quiet and close just in case he had an outburst like that. There was a warm hand on his stomach, and it seemed that the heat from that palm alone lulled him back into slumber.
Harry woke with the feeling that he had slept in far too late, and he gave a little start only to realise that Draco had not moved in the night or that morning, and was sleeping softly against his shoulder. Harry yawned quietly before resting his hand on the other’s hair, fingers threading through it as he contemplated getting up, and just as he decided that the morning was too nice to be awake for, the drapes were ripped back. “Er... You getting up, Harry?” Ron asked awkwardly, having noticed that his best friend’s hands had jerked away from Malfoy when the sun hit them.
“I wasn’t really planning on it,” Harry claimed irritably. He was not sure why it annoyed him that Ron had come tearing into his bed when it was obvious that he was not awake, but he was furious about it. “So, did you want something, or can I go back to sleep?” He caught himself glaring, and he felt like a bit of an arse about it, but he did not apologise.
Ron looked hurt, and his ears flushed pink before he just shook his head and stormed out of the dorm room. Harry drew the hangings shut and was just settling back into the comforting warmth of another body beside him when Draco stirred and eyelashes flicking open brushed Harry’s cheek. Harry tried to stay quiet to lull his charge back to sleep, but Malfoy gave a jolt a moment later and sat up, nearly falling out of his side of the bed as he stared at Harry wide-eyed. “Potter?! Why the hell are YOU-um... So... You must be the one they shoved me onto. Happy about it, are you?” He began to brush himself off as though sleeping next to Harry was like sleeping in the dirt.
A great surge of anger welled up in Harry’s chest, and he found himself grabbing Draco by the arm. “You honestly think I WANT to be taking care of you?” he lashed out, eyes dangerously narrow as he squeezed that arm. Draco’s eyes widened. “You can’t sleep by yourself; any time someone looks at you funny, you fall into crying fits; you’re... you’re fucking pathetic!” He was raving for no good reason-Draco deserved compassion-but in that moment, he wanted Draco to know how hard this was for him to manage. “Of course, it’s better than you being a prat all the time... Really, you’re much better like this!”
When tears welled up in Draco’s eyes, Harry thought for a moment that the quietest personality had returned, but Draco shook his head and growled, “Do you have any idea what’s happened to me? No, NO, you have NO BLOODY CLUE!” He wrenched his arm away and nearly fell out of bed again, his hands trembling so hard that Harry could feel it in the mattress. “I’m fucking SORRY, okay?!” He moved to lie down on the bed, facing away from Harry and shaking.
The Gryffindor paused for a few moments, feeling horrible, before he reached out and touched Draco on the shoulder. When he received no response, he shook his arm slightly. “Malfoy?” The word caused Draco to turn his head to look sleepily at Harry, but it was still the real Draco, and though Harry did not care for him much, he lay down beside him-without touching-and closed his eyes. “Sorry...”
He received no response.
Need to catch up?
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Rating: Currently R
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Summary: When Draco Malfoy's mental health mysteriously declines, he is placed under the care of the only person he responds to: Harry Potter.
Warnings: (Future) Violence, rape, character death, mental illnesses, slash, Pre-HBP
Beta-read by cluelesschase.
The general air about the older Gryffindors was one of resentment and confusion as they found that Draco Malfoy was not only eating with them, but following them to their dormitory. While Hermione stuck close to Harry, Seamus pulled Ron to the rear and gestured to the clingy Draco and the obviously agitated Harry he was attached to. “You’re telling me,” he began to rant, “that that... that slime is staying in our dormitory?! If he says one goddamned word to me -ONE- then it’s all over for him. I’ll cut his throat in his sleep.” He drew his finger horizontally across his throat and shook his head.
Harry happened to hear the last few phrases out of Seamus’s mouth, and he whipped around suddenly, eyes ablaze with emerald fury. “Listen, Seamus. He’s sick. I’m not any happier about this situation than you are, damn it, but I’ve got to take care of him and you have to get used to it!” The crowd of Gryffindors had stopped to witness this encounter, and Hermione rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder, holding him back. “I’m fucking tired, and I’m not going to deal with your shit all night. If you fuck with Draco, I’m going to get in trouble for it, so sod off!” This reaction shut Seamus up quickly, and the Irishman dropped his head and hurried past, ignoring the whispers that spread like wildfire before him. “Come on, Malfoy,” Harry snapped irritably, taking Draco’s arm and pushing him up the staircase towards Gryffindor Tower.
Hermione followed closely, smiling at her best friend with a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “It’s just been a couple of hours, Harry, and I think you’re becoming attached to him...” she suggested, laughing when he shot her a nasty look. “No, really, it’s admirable that you’re standing up for him even though that’s not really what you’re supposed to be doing. That’s very... grown-up of you.”
He wrinkled his nose at her and shook his head, “Honestly, I’d rather be a child than have to deal with this, Hermione. What if he can’t go to the loo by himself? Or what if he can’t... I don’t know, brush his own teeth or something? This is more than just me trying to fix him; it’s me playing mother! I can’t deal with another person’s personal hygiene... That’s gross,” he admitted, and he diverted his gaze to Draco, whose normally perfect appearance was rather ruffled and unkempt. The real Draco would have had an aneurysm, and the messy hair and dark circles under his eyes were a testament to just exactly how out of his mind he must have been. Grey eyes turned to meet his own, and, for just a moment, Harry was certain he saw a glimmer of lucidity in them before they closed, and Draco leaned his head against Harry’s shoulder.
“He’s tired,” Hermione observed, and she felt her chest tighten inexplicably as Harry, without missing a beat, plucked the lightweight Slytherin off his feet and hoisted him into his arms. Harry really was falling into the caretaker role very easily, and though it was obvious that he resented this new casting, she knew that he would assume responsibility as he always did. “I should think he’ll be able to go to the loo himself, Harry, but you might have to help him with his hair and-er-maybe showering or something. I suppose you’ll find out when the time comes, but I wouldn’t concern myself so much with that, and focus on keeping him functioning instead.”
Harry huffed to himself, and climbed through the portrait hole, turning to look at Hermione before smiling weakly and nodding. “I’ll try... I’d better get him to bed. See you tomorrow.” He sounded exhausted himself, and when he reached the dormitory and found the extra bed for Malfoy near his own, he was glad to set the other down on the warm bed. “Can you undress yourself?” he asked quietly, and he frowned as Draco looked away. “Wonderful. Hold on...”
He retreated to Draco’s trunk and opened it, finding immaculately stacked clothes and other personal belongings. Withdrawing a pair of soft grey pyjamas, he closed the trunk again before moving to sit on the bed with Draco, proceeding to draw the drapes on the four-poster so they might have a moment of privacy. “Are these all right?” He received no negative answer, so he moved to take off Draco’s sneakers and robes for him. Draco seemed very self-conscious of this even in this mental state, and Harry kept his eyes securely fastened on the other’s face as he stripped him down to pants before helping him into the warm pyjamas. “There,” Harry sighed before he opened the drapes and folded Draco’s robes before moving to get ready for bed himself.
Ron came up a moment later, finding Harry half-dressed in sleep clothes, and he managed a feeble smile. “Sorry, mate,” he said quietly, and he gestured to the already-slumbering Slytherin. “This is the last thing we need this year, eh?” He sat down on his bed and flopped back onto the pillow, still completely clothed. “Just when we thought he was annoying enough, he pulls this... D’you think maybe it’s an elaborate prank? Death Eaters making a laugh for themselves?”
Harry sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug. “No matter what it is, it’s fucking annoying and I don’t feel like analysing it any further tonight, thanks...” His tone really was uncalled for, but this entire situation was starting off on the wrong foot, in his opinion. He should have been warned, he should have been consulted at least a little before the Ministry decided to change his entire life for him. Heaving a heavy sigh, he threw himself carelessly onto the bed and buried himself in blankets to fall asleep just as his head came into contact with the pillow.
A few days of classes passed, and Harry was nearing his wits’ end with Malfoy’s helplessness. He was forced to help his charge dress, shower, even walk sometimes (if Draco was not having a bad day, when Harry would have to stay out of class and figure out complex spells by himself), and so, as he fell asleep late Friday evening in his bed, he was looking forward to a full night’s sleep and a restful weekend. This, the purest of all sleep, was abruptly and rudely interrupted, however, as he woke up to a desperate screeching and the sound of ripping cloth, and he threw his drapery aside to find his dorm-mates awake and glaring in his direction. “Do something!” Dean yelled, gesturing to Draco’s bed.
Harry grumbled and hauled himself out of bed, hurrying to his charge’s bedside and throwing open the curtains to find Draco thrashing madly, muttering to himself in an unrecognizable tongue. “Hey, HEY!” Harry yelled, sitting down on the mattress and restraining the other’s arms as they snatched at the air in a blind attempt to seize Harry. “Calm down, Draco! You’re all right!” These words seemed to calm Draco for a moment, though in those stormy eyes there was a feral, wild shadow, and he violently, suddenly reached for Harry’s face with his fingernails poised to rip into his flesh.
“Get away from me,” He hissed in a nasty, horrible voice that made Harry’s heart stand still. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me! Let me GO!” By the end of this, he was screaming, eyes bloodshot and as large as tangerines. His nails caught Harry’s forearms as he was hauled into the Gryffindor’s chest, his face buried against that neck, and there was a sudden shudder that rocked both boys. Fingernails slowly eased back from the tortured flesh, and Harry soon felt burning tears on his collarbone, dripping down into his pyjamas, and he slowly trailed his open palms up Draco’s shuddering back.
When Draco’s tears dried, Harry took him back to his bed, tucking him in before climbing into the blankets beside him and staring at the ceiling as he was cuddled up to. An arm slowly wound its way around Malfoy’s waist, and he found himself holding tightly onto the other as the other boys fell asleep one by one. He drew the drapes closed and found that a small smile tipped the right side of his lips as the breath against his neck slowed and evened out, and he knew that Draco would never sleep alone again. As sickening as the thought was, he found that, whilst angry about it, it was not the most unreasonable idea-the other boys would thank him for keeping his burden quiet and close just in case he had an outburst like that. There was a warm hand on his stomach, and it seemed that the heat from that palm alone lulled him back into slumber.
Harry woke with the feeling that he had slept in far too late, and he gave a little start only to realise that Draco had not moved in the night or that morning, and was sleeping softly against his shoulder. Harry yawned quietly before resting his hand on the other’s hair, fingers threading through it as he contemplated getting up, and just as he decided that the morning was too nice to be awake for, the drapes were ripped back. “Er... You getting up, Harry?” Ron asked awkwardly, having noticed that his best friend’s hands had jerked away from Malfoy when the sun hit them.
“I wasn’t really planning on it,” Harry claimed irritably. He was not sure why it annoyed him that Ron had come tearing into his bed when it was obvious that he was not awake, but he was furious about it. “So, did you want something, or can I go back to sleep?” He caught himself glaring, and he felt like a bit of an arse about it, but he did not apologise.
Ron looked hurt, and his ears flushed pink before he just shook his head and stormed out of the dorm room. Harry drew the hangings shut and was just settling back into the comforting warmth of another body beside him when Draco stirred and eyelashes flicking open brushed Harry’s cheek. Harry tried to stay quiet to lull his charge back to sleep, but Malfoy gave a jolt a moment later and sat up, nearly falling out of his side of the bed as he stared at Harry wide-eyed. “Potter?! Why the hell are YOU-um... So... You must be the one they shoved me onto. Happy about it, are you?” He began to brush himself off as though sleeping next to Harry was like sleeping in the dirt.
A great surge of anger welled up in Harry’s chest, and he found himself grabbing Draco by the arm. “You honestly think I WANT to be taking care of you?” he lashed out, eyes dangerously narrow as he squeezed that arm. Draco’s eyes widened. “You can’t sleep by yourself; any time someone looks at you funny, you fall into crying fits; you’re... you’re fucking pathetic!” He was raving for no good reason-Draco deserved compassion-but in that moment, he wanted Draco to know how hard this was for him to manage. “Of course, it’s better than you being a prat all the time... Really, you’re much better like this!”
When tears welled up in Draco’s eyes, Harry thought for a moment that the quietest personality had returned, but Draco shook his head and growled, “Do you have any idea what’s happened to me? No, NO, you have NO BLOODY CLUE!” He wrenched his arm away and nearly fell out of bed again, his hands trembling so hard that Harry could feel it in the mattress. “I’m fucking SORRY, okay?!” He moved to lie down on the bed, facing away from Harry and shaking.
The Gryffindor paused for a few moments, feeling horrible, before he reached out and touched Draco on the shoulder. When he received no response, he shook his arm slightly. “Malfoy?” The word caused Draco to turn his head to look sleepily at Harry, but it was still the real Draco, and though Harry did not care for him much, he lay down beside him-without touching-and closed his eyes. “Sorry...”
He received no response.
Need to catch up?
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two