Fic: A Voice in a Dream - Part 2 - Moments Remembered H/D (G)
Title: A Voice in a Dream
Part 2 - Moments Remembered
Author: sassy_cissa
Word Count: 1,469 (this part)
Rating: G (currently)
Prompt: slythindor100's Early bird prompts:
and
Warning: None really....well buckle in, it's going to be an angsty ride
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, no matter how hard I wish
Author's Notes: I'm still catching up from slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry from December. This story has been living in my head for far too long now, it's time it came out. I only wish it would come out more quickly. Lol
Many thanks to oldenuf2nb for her support, her brilliant advice, the lovely beta job and her seemingly limitless patience!!
[A Voice in a Dream - Part 2 Moments Remembered]
Moments Remembered
Two weeks passed and Harry dreamt about the little girl most of those nights. He tried to hide it from Hermione, but she knew him too well. At first she prodded him nearly every morning to recall the dreams and tell her about them.
"Hermione, I told you yesterday and the day before that the dream hasn't changed." Harry rubbed his hands on his thighs. He stretched before rolling his head from side to side. "She appears, not like a ghost, but suddenly she's just there. In my mind."
"And," Hermione prodded.
"And..." Harry repeated.
"At the risk of repeating myself, I know you."
"It's just..." Harry sighed. "Well the dream itself is unsettling. But now I find myself looking at every little girl on the street. Checking faces. Eye colour." He ran his hands through his hair. "I hear her voice in my head. Find me repeating over and over."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said softly, reaching out and attempting to pat his hair flat. Apparently, it was even more on end than usual. "It's natural for you do just that. Your subconscious can..."
Harry interrupted harshly. "Hermione!"
She started and inhaled sharply. "Right, sorry. Friend, not shrink." She smiled wanly. "Even as your friend, I'm going to tell you the same thing. The mind can be a curious thing."
"Don't I know it," Harry mumbled.
Hermione smiled at her friend. She, better than most, understood that Harry led with his heart. Most people thought he was larger than life, a force to be reckoned with. She knew that nothing was further from the truth. Oh he was certainly a powerful magical force, but as far as relationships and dealing with people...he was often like a small child himself. He was so eager for love and reassurance. He'd learned the hard way that people wanted him. His first few relationships after Hogwarts had ended up on the front page of The Prophet. Harry had been so devastated he'd stopped dating for nearly a year. It wasn't until Draco had fallen back into his life that Harry actually began to enjoy himself.
"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, "tell me about your time with Draco."
"Why?"
"You said the dreams began shortly after Draco left. Perhaps if I know more about how things were, I can help you understand what's happening now."
Harry looked out the window at the falling snow.
"It was good. We were good." He turned to look at her, his face heating. "Not just the sex, although that was incredible, but being together...it felt right." He stood and moved to the tree, his fingers tracing an ornament in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. "I remember our first Christmas..."
Harry stood in the bedroom, his suitcase open on the bed. "You could come with me."
"I'm fairly certain Shacklebolt didn't intend for you to bring your lover with you to Paris," Draco replied dryly.
"Well then he shouldn't have asked me to go to Paris so close to Christmas." Harry crossed the room and pulled Draco into his arms. "The entire trip is a crock of shite anyway. He's only sending me so that the Minister in Paris can pretend to be on a first-name basis with the Boy Who Lived." He pulled Draco close and ran his mouth along his angular jaw line. "I've never been to Paris. I want you to be the one to show it to me."
"You're a sap, Potter." Draco turned so they were pressed against one another, chest to knees. "It might be fun at that to take you shopping on the Champs-Élysées. Merlin knows your wardrobe could use some updating."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll let you play dress up Harry with me if I get to play undress Draco with you."
Draco took a step back and snarled playfully. "Heathen."
Harry responded with a well placed pinch to Draco's arse. "So, are you coming with me or not?"
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"We ended up spending five extra days in Paris. We shopped and saw the sights during the day and made love and talked far into the nights." Harry turned to Hermione. "As cliché as it sounds, I fell in love with Draco in Paris." His soft voice came from a chest that ached and his breath hitched. "And I thought he fell in love with me too."
"Oh, Harry." Hermione's eyes were shining with unshed tears. "I remember when you came back. I told Ron I'd never seen two people so in love." She gave a soft bark of laughter. "Not that I'm any authority on love. We both know what a crock of shite my marriage turned out to be."
It was the first time since the day she'd moved in that Hermione mentioned her marriage and Harry proceeded cautiously. "You did nothing wrong, Hermione."
She laughed again, only this time it was more of a sob. "Nothing except put my career before everything. Nothing except push my husband into the arms of another woman." Slouching, she covered her face with her hands and rubbed at her eyes. After a moment she sat up straight and shook her head. "No, this isn't about me."
"Hermione," Harry said gently. "Maybe it's time it was about you and what happened. You may have put your career first, but Ron put himself first too.
Hermione gave him a watery smile and Harry realized just how much he'd missed seeing her happy. "We'll talk about it, and soon. But right now we need to talk about you and Draco." When he tried to speak, she shook her head firmly. "Later. When I'm ready and not before. Now, what happened after you returned from Paris?"
He arched a brow at her. "So, would that line work for me? When I'm ready and not before?"
She rolled her eyes and swatted him on the arm. Harry gave her a wry grin.
"I thought not," he said indulgently. "Fine. We came back to London and played tourist here." Harry smiled fondly at the memory. "One of the things we talked about in Paris was how I was raised. Draco was so angry at first. He was ready to Apparate to the Dursley's house and hex everyone of them."
"He's not the only one who's had that thought," Hermione mumbled. Harry touched her hand fondly.
"I told him, as I've told you, that is my past. It might not have been a great past, but there are parts of it that were good. And Aunt Petunia was my mum's sister. It took quite a bit of talking and a fairly spectacular blow-job, but he was finally persuaded to let it drop. Anyway, Draco'd found out that I'd never really "seen" London. So the day after Christmas, we went to ride on the Eye and to visit the Tower of London. We laughed and carried on like Muggles the entire day. It was so much fun."
Hermione giggled. "Imagining Draco behaving as a Muggle...it just boggles."
"He really wasn't like his father," Harry said softly. "The more I got to know him, the more apparent those differences became." He reached out and caught Hermione's hand. "We all played a role in the war. His was no less the result of his upbringing than mine was. Anyway, for the next two year, it was perfect. And then it wasn't."
"What changed?" Hermione asked, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, her eyes glued to his face.
"Nothing." Harry shrugged and shook his head, his brow furrowed as he thought. "I mean nothing changed for me. But by the end of the summer, the one before he left, Draco was different. Quiet. I'd find him sitting in the dark when I'd get home."
"And you asked him what was wrong?"
"Of course I asked him," he replied sharply. "I asked every day. Every night."
Hermione pressed him. "And he wouldn't say."
"No, he wouldn't say." Harry released her hand and moved to the window, staring out. "And we stopped...making love. He wouldn't let near him." He swiped a tear off his cheek. "He would tell me he was tired, or not in the mood. But that was just the last few days before..." - he exhaled to cover his sob - "before he was gone." He ran a hand through his hair.
Hermione crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his neck.
He patted her soft, bushy hair. "So, Healer Granger, is there any hope for me?" His voice was rough, but he gave a small laugh when he spoke.
Leaning back so she could look into his face, she smiled. "There's always hope, Harry."
"Even for a sap like me?"
"Especially for you."
To be continued.....
on to A Voice in a Dream - Part 3: The Prodigal Friend
Part 2 - Moments Remembered
Author: sassy_cissa
Word Count: 1,469 (this part)
Rating: G (currently)
Prompt: slythindor100's Early bird prompts:
and
Warning: None really....well buckle in, it's going to be an angsty ride
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, no matter how hard I wish
Author's Notes: I'm still catching up from slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry from December. This story has been living in my head for far too long now, it's time it came out. I only wish it would come out more quickly. Lol
Many thanks to oldenuf2nb for her support, her brilliant advice, the lovely beta job and her seemingly limitless patience!!
[A Voice in a Dream - Part 2 Moments Remembered]
Moments Remembered
Two weeks passed and Harry dreamt about the little girl most of those nights. He tried to hide it from Hermione, but she knew him too well. At first she prodded him nearly every morning to recall the dreams and tell her about them.
"Hermione, I told you yesterday and the day before that the dream hasn't changed." Harry rubbed his hands on his thighs. He stretched before rolling his head from side to side. "She appears, not like a ghost, but suddenly she's just there. In my mind."
"And," Hermione prodded.
"And..." Harry repeated.
"At the risk of repeating myself, I know you."
"It's just..." Harry sighed. "Well the dream itself is unsettling. But now I find myself looking at every little girl on the street. Checking faces. Eye colour." He ran his hands through his hair. "I hear her voice in my head. Find me repeating over and over."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said softly, reaching out and attempting to pat his hair flat. Apparently, it was even more on end than usual. "It's natural for you do just that. Your subconscious can..."
Harry interrupted harshly. "Hermione!"
She started and inhaled sharply. "Right, sorry. Friend, not shrink." She smiled wanly. "Even as your friend, I'm going to tell you the same thing. The mind can be a curious thing."
"Don't I know it," Harry mumbled.
Hermione smiled at her friend. She, better than most, understood that Harry led with his heart. Most people thought he was larger than life, a force to be reckoned with. She knew that nothing was further from the truth. Oh he was certainly a powerful magical force, but as far as relationships and dealing with people...he was often like a small child himself. He was so eager for love and reassurance. He'd learned the hard way that people wanted him. His first few relationships after Hogwarts had ended up on the front page of The Prophet. Harry had been so devastated he'd stopped dating for nearly a year. It wasn't until Draco had fallen back into his life that Harry actually began to enjoy himself.
"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, "tell me about your time with Draco."
"Why?"
"You said the dreams began shortly after Draco left. Perhaps if I know more about how things were, I can help you understand what's happening now."
Harry looked out the window at the falling snow.
"It was good. We were good." He turned to look at her, his face heating. "Not just the sex, although that was incredible, but being together...it felt right." He stood and moved to the tree, his fingers tracing an ornament in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. "I remember our first Christmas..."
Harry stood in the bedroom, his suitcase open on the bed. "You could come with me."
"I'm fairly certain Shacklebolt didn't intend for you to bring your lover with you to Paris," Draco replied dryly.
"Well then he shouldn't have asked me to go to Paris so close to Christmas." Harry crossed the room and pulled Draco into his arms. "The entire trip is a crock of shite anyway. He's only sending me so that the Minister in Paris can pretend to be on a first-name basis with the Boy Who Lived." He pulled Draco close and ran his mouth along his angular jaw line. "I've never been to Paris. I want you to be the one to show it to me."
"You're a sap, Potter." Draco turned so they were pressed against one another, chest to knees. "It might be fun at that to take you shopping on the Champs-Élysées. Merlin knows your wardrobe could use some updating."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll let you play dress up Harry with me if I get to play undress Draco with you."
Draco took a step back and snarled playfully. "Heathen."
Harry responded with a well placed pinch to Draco's arse. "So, are you coming with me or not?"
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"We ended up spending five extra days in Paris. We shopped and saw the sights during the day and made love and talked far into the nights." Harry turned to Hermione. "As cliché as it sounds, I fell in love with Draco in Paris." His soft voice came from a chest that ached and his breath hitched. "And I thought he fell in love with me too."
"Oh, Harry." Hermione's eyes were shining with unshed tears. "I remember when you came back. I told Ron I'd never seen two people so in love." She gave a soft bark of laughter. "Not that I'm any authority on love. We both know what a crock of shite my marriage turned out to be."
It was the first time since the day she'd moved in that Hermione mentioned her marriage and Harry proceeded cautiously. "You did nothing wrong, Hermione."
She laughed again, only this time it was more of a sob. "Nothing except put my career before everything. Nothing except push my husband into the arms of another woman." Slouching, she covered her face with her hands and rubbed at her eyes. After a moment she sat up straight and shook her head. "No, this isn't about me."
"Hermione," Harry said gently. "Maybe it's time it was about you and what happened. You may have put your career first, but Ron put himself first too.
Hermione gave him a watery smile and Harry realized just how much he'd missed seeing her happy. "We'll talk about it, and soon. But right now we need to talk about you and Draco." When he tried to speak, she shook her head firmly. "Later. When I'm ready and not before. Now, what happened after you returned from Paris?"
He arched a brow at her. "So, would that line work for me? When I'm ready and not before?"
She rolled her eyes and swatted him on the arm. Harry gave her a wry grin.
"I thought not," he said indulgently. "Fine. We came back to London and played tourist here." Harry smiled fondly at the memory. "One of the things we talked about in Paris was how I was raised. Draco was so angry at first. He was ready to Apparate to the Dursley's house and hex everyone of them."
"He's not the only one who's had that thought," Hermione mumbled. Harry touched her hand fondly.
"I told him, as I've told you, that is my past. It might not have been a great past, but there are parts of it that were good. And Aunt Petunia was my mum's sister. It took quite a bit of talking and a fairly spectacular blow-job, but he was finally persuaded to let it drop. Anyway, Draco'd found out that I'd never really "seen" London. So the day after Christmas, we went to ride on the Eye and to visit the Tower of London. We laughed and carried on like Muggles the entire day. It was so much fun."
Hermione giggled. "Imagining Draco behaving as a Muggle...it just boggles."
"He really wasn't like his father," Harry said softly. "The more I got to know him, the more apparent those differences became." He reached out and caught Hermione's hand. "We all played a role in the war. His was no less the result of his upbringing than mine was. Anyway, for the next two year, it was perfect. And then it wasn't."
"What changed?" Hermione asked, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, her eyes glued to his face.
"Nothing." Harry shrugged and shook his head, his brow furrowed as he thought. "I mean nothing changed for me. But by the end of the summer, the one before he left, Draco was different. Quiet. I'd find him sitting in the dark when I'd get home."
"And you asked him what was wrong?"
"Of course I asked him," he replied sharply. "I asked every day. Every night."
Hermione pressed him. "And he wouldn't say."
"No, he wouldn't say." Harry released her hand and moved to the window, staring out. "And we stopped...making love. He wouldn't let near him." He swiped a tear off his cheek. "He would tell me he was tired, or not in the mood. But that was just the last few days before..." - he exhaled to cover his sob - "before he was gone." He ran a hand through his hair.
Hermione crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his neck.
He patted her soft, bushy hair. "So, Healer Granger, is there any hope for me?" His voice was rough, but he gave a small laugh when he spoke.
Leaning back so she could look into his face, she smiled. "There's always hope, Harry."
"Even for a sap like me?"
"Especially for you."
To be continued.....
on to A Voice in a Dream - Part 3: The Prodigal Friend