Realization (H/D, PG)
Sorry for the delay on this, but my muse fancied herself a novelist, and kept veering off track. I had to send her away for a sabbatical. She's back now, duly chastised, and here is the result. I hope you like it, and a very happy, VERY belated birthday my dear!
Title: Realization
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1593
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Challenge: For hazelhawthorne's birthday prompt of "Sixth year, after Sectumsempra. Harry realizes how he really feels." It also fits my GJ 100_prompts table #044 - "Fringe"
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower in a daze and covered in blood. Malfoy's blood. Blood spilled by Harry. So much blood.
As expected, he was bombarded with questions by everyone. Thanks to the efforts of Ron and Hermione, he was able to escape to his room for some solitude. Well, if you don't include them following him.
After about an hour, Harry tried to convince them that he needed to get out, go for a walk, get some air.
"What if McGonagall comes to see you?" Hermione asked.
"Already saw her," Harry replied. "I think I'm the last person she wants to see right now, to be honest."
"The git deserved it!" Ron insisted.
"Ronald!" Hermione gasped.
"Nobody deserves that," Harry deadpanned.
"But he was --"
"-- about to hit me with Crucio, I know. But you have to really mean it for that to work. I think he was just caught off guard, Ron. I don't really think he would have hurt me."
"Right. That ferret --"
"Let it go, Ron. Just ... just let it go."
"But Harry, you don't know --"
"I just have a feeling, Ron. I don't think he would have seriously hurt me. I don't know why, but I just ... I don't think he would have."
"Harry," Hermione said, obviously getting ready for a lecture or a long diatribe.
"Thanks for everything, guys," Harry cut her off. "But right now I need to be alone. I'd appreciate your help getting out of the Tower, but I'll do it on my own if I have to."
"Fine. We'll come with you," Hermione said.
"Hermione," Harry growled through clenched teeth, "what exactly do you not understand about me needing to be alone?"
"I know Harry, but --"
"Hermione, back off. I know you mean well, but if you don't just back off and leave me be, I can't be responsible for what I say to you, okay? Just let me be."
She looked close to tears, but Harry didn't care. She was smothering him and it was all he could do not to tell her to piss off. He rifled through his trunk and withdrew the Invisibility Cloak. "I'm leaving. Are you helping me or not?"
~*~*~
Harry made straight for the Room of Requirement, knowing of no place else where he could truly be alone. He had no intention of returning to his dorm that night, so he thought carefully, knowing that he needed a place to be alone, a place to think, and a place to spend the night.
When the door opened, it revealed a small flat. It had a sofa and coffee table in front of a fire on one side of the room, and on the other side was a four-poster bed, with a night table and alarm clock. There was a small door just beyond the bedroom which he presumed led to a toilet.
Harry sat on the sofa in front of the fire, closed his eyes and replayed the horrible scene in his mind. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, could feel the pressure behind his eyes, could feel his stomach lurch.
He barely made it to the toilet. He threw up until there was nothing left, and then his stomach heaved a few more times for good measure.
He dragged himself up off the floor, splashed his face with cold water and stared at his reflection. All that blood, he thought as he saw the evidence of Malfoy's injuries on his shirt front. He frantically pulled it off and threw it on the floor. He went back out and saw his pyjamas on the bed. Amazed and grateful for the magic in this room, he put them on and curled up in front of the fire again.
What have I done? How could I? Harry felt his body begin to shake uncontrollably. He could feel tears building behind his eyes, but he blinked them back, reluctant to let them fall.
~*~*~
Harry entered the hospital wing where he was confronted by a stern looking Madam Pomfrey. "What are you doing here at this hour, Potter?"
"I'm not here to hurt him," Harry said, as he pulled out his wand and handed it to her. "Take this. I only want to apologize."
She took the proffered wand and gave a curt nod. "You have five minutes. No longer. He lost a lot of blood, and he needs his rest."
"Thank you." Harry made his way over to Malfoy's bed. He was the only one in the hospital wing, and with visiting hours over he had no one with him. In fact, he was asleep. Harry looked back to see that Madam Pomfrey had retreated to her office, leaving them alone. He smiled weakly as he realized that the matron knew he wouldn't hurt the boy before him, even though he could, wand or no wand. It was not much consolation.
Harry watched Malfoy breathing, his facial features softer than Harry had ever seen. He looked so small, so young, so innocent like that. A wave of guilt washed over Harry, nearly drowning him with its intensity.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
An ache pinched Harry's heart, and a lone tear fell down his cheek. He sat there watching his rival for what he knew was far longer than five minutes when the other boy started to moan. "Mother ... Father ... No ... I'm trying ... I'll save you." He had begun to sweat and he was thrashing around in the bed. Frantically, Harry looked towards Madam Pomfrey's office, but there was no sign of movement.
Harry reached for Malfoy's hand and squeezed. "Shh. It's okay, Draco. It's okay. It's just a dream," he whispered, caressing Malfoy's hand and calming him with his voice. "Just a dream," he said again. He reached up to Malfoy's face and brushed back his fringe.
Malfoy's eyes fluttered open, then gaped at Harry in shock. "Potter? What are you doing here? Where am I?"
"You're in the hospital wing, and you were having a nightmare. But it's all right now. Everything's all right."
"But what are you doing here, Potter? And ... why are you holding my hand?"
Harry hadn't realized it, but he hadn't released Malfoy's hand. In fact, he was still rubbing small circles over the top of it in a slow caress.
"You were having a nightmare," he said, as if that explained everything. He still didn't let go. "I'm so sorry," he said. "How do you feel now? Does it still hurt?"
Malfoy looked down at their hands and pulled his away. "Why do you care?" he asked, although without his usual force.
"I never meant to hurt you. I didn't know what that spell would do."
"Well that's a relief," he said. "It wouldn't do for our bloody saviour to be going around killing innocent students, would it?"
Harry laughed despite the inappropriateness of the situation. "No, I suppose not," he agreed. He thought about Malfoy's words. "Our saviour?"
"You are going to take him down, aren't you Potter?"
Harry was dumbfounded. "What?"
"Keep up, Potter! The Dark Lord, you're going to kill him, right?"
Harry narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He may feel guilty, but he wasn't stupid.
"Oh, but you couldn't tell me, I'm sure. Whatever. I don't care. Just do get on with it, would you? He can't die soon enough for me. Then maybe my parents will live to see me come of age."
Harry was in shock. Surely Malfoy wasn't saying what Harry though he was saying. "But your father ..."
"Was stupid," Draco finished. "He chose the wrong side, and now he's paying. And so are my mother and I. Please, Potter - Harry - tell me you're going to save us from him."
"Yes," Harry answered. The smile he got in return sent Harry's heart into overdrive.
~*~*~
Harry awoke, still on the sofa in the Room of Requirement, with a lighter feeling in his heart and a smile on his face. He could still see Draco's image as though he were right in front of him.
Not caring what time it was, Harry grabbed his wand. Before he could even recall the spell to transform his pyjamas, a fresh set of his own clothing appeared on the bed. I love magic, he thought for the millionth time since discovering he was a wizard. Quickly he changed, pulled on the Invisibility Cloak, and made his way to the hospital wing.
Harry entered and was at once confronted by Madam Pomfrey. "What are you doing here at this hour, Potter?" she asked sternly.
"I'm not here to hurt him," Harry replied, as he handed his wand to her. "Take this. I only want to apologize."
She gave him a once over, took the wand and said, "You have five minutes. No longer. He lost a lot of blood, and he needs his rest."
"Thank you." Harry made his way over to Malfoy's bed. Like in his dream, Malfoy's was the only one taken, and they were completely alone.
Harry watched Malfoy breathing, his facial features soft like Harry had imagined them to be. Not waiting for a nightmare, he took Draco's hand in his own and smiled. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
He knew he might get hexed for it come morning, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He pulled a chair up beside Draco's bed. After all, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.
.
Title: Realization
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1593
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Challenge: For hazelhawthorne's birthday prompt of "Sixth year, after Sectumsempra. Harry realizes how he really feels." It also fits my GJ 100_prompts table #044 - "Fringe"
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower in a daze and covered in blood. Malfoy's blood. Blood spilled by Harry. So much blood.
As expected, he was bombarded with questions by everyone. Thanks to the efforts of Ron and Hermione, he was able to escape to his room for some solitude. Well, if you don't include them following him.
After about an hour, Harry tried to convince them that he needed to get out, go for a walk, get some air.
"What if McGonagall comes to see you?" Hermione asked.
"Already saw her," Harry replied. "I think I'm the last person she wants to see right now, to be honest."
"The git deserved it!" Ron insisted.
"Ronald!" Hermione gasped.
"Nobody deserves that," Harry deadpanned.
"But he was --"
"-- about to hit me with Crucio, I know. But you have to really mean it for that to work. I think he was just caught off guard, Ron. I don't really think he would have hurt me."
"Right. That ferret --"
"Let it go, Ron. Just ... just let it go."
"But Harry, you don't know --"
"I just have a feeling, Ron. I don't think he would have seriously hurt me. I don't know why, but I just ... I don't think he would have."
"Harry," Hermione said, obviously getting ready for a lecture or a long diatribe.
"Thanks for everything, guys," Harry cut her off. "But right now I need to be alone. I'd appreciate your help getting out of the Tower, but I'll do it on my own if I have to."
"Fine. We'll come with you," Hermione said.
"Hermione," Harry growled through clenched teeth, "what exactly do you not understand about me needing to be alone?"
"I know Harry, but --"
"Hermione, back off. I know you mean well, but if you don't just back off and leave me be, I can't be responsible for what I say to you, okay? Just let me be."
She looked close to tears, but Harry didn't care. She was smothering him and it was all he could do not to tell her to piss off. He rifled through his trunk and withdrew the Invisibility Cloak. "I'm leaving. Are you helping me or not?"
~*~*~
Harry made straight for the Room of Requirement, knowing of no place else where he could truly be alone. He had no intention of returning to his dorm that night, so he thought carefully, knowing that he needed a place to be alone, a place to think, and a place to spend the night.
When the door opened, it revealed a small flat. It had a sofa and coffee table in front of a fire on one side of the room, and on the other side was a four-poster bed, with a night table and alarm clock. There was a small door just beyond the bedroom which he presumed led to a toilet.
Harry sat on the sofa in front of the fire, closed his eyes and replayed the horrible scene in his mind. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, could feel the pressure behind his eyes, could feel his stomach lurch.
He barely made it to the toilet. He threw up until there was nothing left, and then his stomach heaved a few more times for good measure.
He dragged himself up off the floor, splashed his face with cold water and stared at his reflection. All that blood, he thought as he saw the evidence of Malfoy's injuries on his shirt front. He frantically pulled it off and threw it on the floor. He went back out and saw his pyjamas on the bed. Amazed and grateful for the magic in this room, he put them on and curled up in front of the fire again.
What have I done? How could I? Harry felt his body begin to shake uncontrollably. He could feel tears building behind his eyes, but he blinked them back, reluctant to let them fall.
~*~*~
Harry entered the hospital wing where he was confronted by a stern looking Madam Pomfrey. "What are you doing here at this hour, Potter?"
"I'm not here to hurt him," Harry said, as he pulled out his wand and handed it to her. "Take this. I only want to apologize."
She took the proffered wand and gave a curt nod. "You have five minutes. No longer. He lost a lot of blood, and he needs his rest."
"Thank you." Harry made his way over to Malfoy's bed. He was the only one in the hospital wing, and with visiting hours over he had no one with him. In fact, he was asleep. Harry looked back to see that Madam Pomfrey had retreated to her office, leaving them alone. He smiled weakly as he realized that the matron knew he wouldn't hurt the boy before him, even though he could, wand or no wand. It was not much consolation.
Harry watched Malfoy breathing, his facial features softer than Harry had ever seen. He looked so small, so young, so innocent like that. A wave of guilt washed over Harry, nearly drowning him with its intensity.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
An ache pinched Harry's heart, and a lone tear fell down his cheek. He sat there watching his rival for what he knew was far longer than five minutes when the other boy started to moan. "Mother ... Father ... No ... I'm trying ... I'll save you." He had begun to sweat and he was thrashing around in the bed. Frantically, Harry looked towards Madam Pomfrey's office, but there was no sign of movement.
Harry reached for Malfoy's hand and squeezed. "Shh. It's okay, Draco. It's okay. It's just a dream," he whispered, caressing Malfoy's hand and calming him with his voice. "Just a dream," he said again. He reached up to Malfoy's face and brushed back his fringe.
Malfoy's eyes fluttered open, then gaped at Harry in shock. "Potter? What are you doing here? Where am I?"
"You're in the hospital wing, and you were having a nightmare. But it's all right now. Everything's all right."
"But what are you doing here, Potter? And ... why are you holding my hand?"
Harry hadn't realized it, but he hadn't released Malfoy's hand. In fact, he was still rubbing small circles over the top of it in a slow caress.
"You were having a nightmare," he said, as if that explained everything. He still didn't let go. "I'm so sorry," he said. "How do you feel now? Does it still hurt?"
Malfoy looked down at their hands and pulled his away. "Why do you care?" he asked, although without his usual force.
"I never meant to hurt you. I didn't know what that spell would do."
"Well that's a relief," he said. "It wouldn't do for our bloody saviour to be going around killing innocent students, would it?"
Harry laughed despite the inappropriateness of the situation. "No, I suppose not," he agreed. He thought about Malfoy's words. "Our saviour?"
"You are going to take him down, aren't you Potter?"
Harry was dumbfounded. "What?"
"Keep up, Potter! The Dark Lord, you're going to kill him, right?"
Harry narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He may feel guilty, but he wasn't stupid.
"Oh, but you couldn't tell me, I'm sure. Whatever. I don't care. Just do get on with it, would you? He can't die soon enough for me. Then maybe my parents will live to see me come of age."
Harry was in shock. Surely Malfoy wasn't saying what Harry though he was saying. "But your father ..."
"Was stupid," Draco finished. "He chose the wrong side, and now he's paying. And so are my mother and I. Please, Potter - Harry - tell me you're going to save us from him."
"Yes," Harry answered. The smile he got in return sent Harry's heart into overdrive.
~*~*~
Harry awoke, still on the sofa in the Room of Requirement, with a lighter feeling in his heart and a smile on his face. He could still see Draco's image as though he were right in front of him.
Not caring what time it was, Harry grabbed his wand. Before he could even recall the spell to transform his pyjamas, a fresh set of his own clothing appeared on the bed. I love magic, he thought for the millionth time since discovering he was a wizard. Quickly he changed, pulled on the Invisibility Cloak, and made his way to the hospital wing.
Harry entered and was at once confronted by Madam Pomfrey. "What are you doing here at this hour, Potter?" she asked sternly.
"I'm not here to hurt him," Harry replied, as he handed his wand to her. "Take this. I only want to apologize."
She gave him a once over, took the wand and said, "You have five minutes. No longer. He lost a lot of blood, and he needs his rest."
"Thank you." Harry made his way over to Malfoy's bed. Like in his dream, Malfoy's was the only one taken, and they were completely alone.
Harry watched Malfoy breathing, his facial features soft like Harry had imagined them to be. Not waiting for a nightmare, he took Draco's hand in his own and smiled. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
He knew he might get hexed for it come morning, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He pulled a chair up beside Draco's bed. After all, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.
.