A Matter of Life or Death (part 2 of 2)
Author: sesheta_66
Beta: gabe_speaks
Brit picker: accioscar
Title: A Matter of Life or Death (2 of 2)
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Summary: EWE. Auror partners Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are known for bending and breaking the rules with such frequency, it comes as a surprise to everyone when they actually do follow protocol. After Malfoy ends up in hospital, Harry wonders if their luck has finally run out.
Warnings (if any): Brief mention of mpreg.
Total word count: ~ 11,000
Original prompt request number: 183
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A Matter of Life or Death - Part 2
Three months passed, and Draco heard nothing from Harry. Funnily enough, he missed their constant bickering most of all. Well, he supposed it was for the best. But as Christmas approached, Draco only felt worse. He couldn't imagine the holiday season without Harry in his life, even if only as a friend. They'd grown close over the years, and their annual shopping trip-when they would go to Hogsmeade and Draco would dismiss all of Harry's choices and help him choose more appropriate gifts-was looming ever nearer.
"What do you know about Harry?" Granger demanded, interrupting Draco's train of thought with her unannounced appearance at his office door. With one hand on her hip and the other gripping her wand-really, was she planning to hex the information out of him?-she looked very like Pansy on a mission. Determined. Angry. Unyielding. Draco shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
"Excuse me?" he asked.
"Harry. He's acting strangely. What do you know about it?"
"Apparently it's escaped your notice, but Potter has always acted strangely. What's so different now-besides quitting the only job he ever wanted?"
"Exactly. He's not thinking."
"He does everything without thinking."
"He's just… well, he's acting more strangely than usual."
"How so?" Draco asked. He knew he shouldn't ask; Granger was on a mission.
"Distant. Aloof."
"Granger, have you actually met Potter? He's always been like that."
"So you don't know anything?"
"He's told me nothing."
"Could you… well, could you just ask him?"
"Why would he tell me something he wouldn't tell you? After all, you and your husband are his best friends. I'm… well, I'm nothing." It hurt more than he wanted to admit to say those words, but they certainly seemed to be true.
Granger stared at him, her mouth open. "You're closer to him that you know. In fact, I don't think anyone is closer to Harry right now than you."
Had Harry told his friends what had happened between them? No, he couldn't have. "I haven't even spoken to him for months."
"Will you just do this, please? For Harry?"
* * * * *
Draco showed up unannounced at Harry's office that Friday, and if the smile that graced Harry's face at his presence was any indication, Draco had made the right decision.
"Draco, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"Our standing appointment, of course." Draco was pleased by the look of confusion on Harry's face. "Shopping. Hogsmeade. Keep up, Potter. You don't really expect me to leave you to your own devices when shopping for Christmas gifts, do you?"
Harry's face lit up the room. "Of course not," he said and grabbed his cloak.
* * * * *
Draco watched Harry across the table at the Three Broomsticks, their shopping done for the day. They had argued about nearly every purchase, Draco naturally winning each argument in the end. After all, it's not as if Harry had taste when it came to such things. All in all, it had been a success.
They had finished a bottle of wine over dinner and were almost halfway through a second. If Draco didn't know any better, he'd say it was almost normal, sitting there comfortably chatting with Harry. But Harry's face turned suddenly solemn, the edges of his mouth pulled towards the floor, his eyes downcast. Reality hit Draco at that very moment. Things were not well. Things were not normal.
"What are you thinking, Harry?" he ventured. He wanted to stay angry, but he just couldn't. Especially not when Harry looked so… wounded.
"Nothing." A raised eyebrow from Draco told him that answer wasn't good enough. "I just wish things could be different."
Draco braced himself. Why hadn't he just left things well enough alone? Since when did he risk getting hurt? Clearly being around a Gryffindor for years had taken its toll on him.
"I meant what I said, Draco. I've wanted you for so long."
"Then why?" Shit. That didn't sound pathetic and needy at all. Damn it. Why couldn't he just act like the Slytherin he knew he was? Because this is Harry, a voice inside him pointed out, most unhelpfully. Because he means too much to you.
"I-I can't say."
"Damn it, Potter, what can't you say? This is me! We've been together-partners-for too long for you to keep things from me. Just spit it out already!"
Harry mumbled something, but no… he couldn't have said what Draco thought he heard. "What was that?"
"I said I'm dying."
Oh. So it was what he heard.
"But you're Harry Potter. You can't die. You've made it your life's work to do just the opposite. What makes you think you're dying now?"
"Not now, but soon enough. That day at the barn, I was hit with a curse. It has a delayed reaction, but the end result is death. Only it's not as neat and clean as Avada Kedavra."
"But you look fine," Draco argued. "Better than fine, actually." Again. What was this business of spitting out the truth all of a sudden? It must have been the wine.
"It lies dormant for about a year, then over the course of about three months, it will shut down all the systems in my body, leaving me incapable of caring for myself, and in a lot of pain, before finally killing me."
This couldn't be happening. Not to Harry. He was a young man, in the prime of his life. "But… but you have a year. Get treatment." Draco wrung his hands in frustration, wanting to scream. "You have money. I have connections. We'll get you the best Healers in the world, Harry. We'll-"
"There's no cure, Draco. There have been no survivors of this… ever."
Draco struggled to make sense of it all. His mind latched on to the only thing he could, and he banged his fist on the table, eyes boring into Harry. "And there's only been one survivor of the Avada Kedavra curse, and in case you'd forgotten, that's you. If anyone can beat this, you can."
"I can't, Draco. My time has run out. I don't want to spend the time I have left undergoing treatments that won't work. I need to live this last year. It's all I have left."
They sat there in silence, for what felt like hours. It all made sense now. Of course Harry wouldn't want to start something with Draco, only to leave him in the end. It was so… so… Gryffindor of him. Instead of looking out for what was best for himself, he continued to protect the people around him, even if it was from himself.
Draco reached over and grabbed Harry's hand. "Let's get out of here."
* * * * *
They lay in Draco's bed, Harry sleeping and Draco watching over him. His heart ached for this man, but Draco was determined not to pity him; he knew that Harry would hate that. Besides, he was still a strong and vibrant man. Last night had been a testament to that. Draco pulled Harry into his arms as he remembered. It had been unhurried, yet no less passionate than the last time.
Only this time it was… more. Draco had known from their first kiss last night that there was no turning back. He was in it for good. Oh, hell! When did the Slytherin in him pack up and leave? It hadn't, he told himself. He was getting what he wanted out of this too. Harry.
He'd wanted Harry for as long as he could remember, probably before he knew it himself. So this was just as self-serving as anything else he'd done in his life. Keep telling yourself that, the annoying voice in his head argued. He shut it up by pulling Harry closer and falling back to sleep.
* * * * *
They enjoyed Saturday together, picking up a few last-minute gifts they hadn't got the day before and spending the evening in.
Sunday morning, Draco awoke to the most spectacular blow job he'd ever experienced. Of course, the fact that it was Harry staring up at him with mischievous green eyes didn't help his stamina. Draco was undone in what was surely the shortest time ever on record, aside from his teen years.
"You really are quite spectacular at that," he said as Harry crawled up to kiss him.
"Only for you," Harry responded. Draco's heart swelled at the words. Merlin, he was acting like such a girl.
"Just so you know, Potter, if you try calling me baby, I will have to hex your bollocks off. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm rather fond of them."
"So honey or darling are out, too?"
"Ugh." Draco shuddered. He smirked as another name crossed his mind. "You may call me your Slytherin god, if you wish."
"Prat." Harry swatted him. "Draco it is, then."
"Glad we cleared that up."
* * * * *
Draco realised Harry had been right. It was getting more difficult as time went on. Draco had fallen hard, and whenever he wasn't with Harry, he was thinking about Harry. And those thoughts inevitably led to thoughts about life without Harry.
They avoided talking about it, content to enjoy the time they had together. Draco had helped Harry connect with the right people to finish putting his affairs in order, but that was as close as they'd got to talking about things.
They still argued. After all, what would life be like without a little conflict? Harry still had messy hair, atrocious clothing and abysmal social skills. And he was still every bit a Gryffindor. After the shock of Harry's news had worn off, Draco's Slytherin side had returned full force.
Every once in a while, Draco would catch Harry staring off into space, looking like a lost soul. It tore Draco up inside to know that there was nothing he could do for Harry. Nothing except do his best to make their last months together as full of joy as possible.
After a few months, he asked Harry what he wanted to do, if there was anything left undone. Harry responded by saying, "I'm in love. What else is there?" That was the first time Draco had shed a tear. Only one, mind you. Life was so unfair!
* * * * *
Another couple of months went by before Draco asked, "What are your Healer's plans?" Harry had never discussed his appointments, their treatments, if there were any, or his future arrangements.
"Oh, I'm not seeing a Healer."
What? "I realise you don't want to be a test subject for experimental treatments, Harry, but what do you mean, you're not seeing a Healer?" Draco asked. Honestly, sometimes the man drove him mad. Well, most of the time, if he was to tell the truth. Some things never changed.
"Well, there's not much point, is there? Not for a few months yet, anyway."
"Are you going back to the one that diagnosed you, or have you been referred to a specialist?" Harry's silence spoke volumes. "You have discussed your future plans with a professional, right? Tell me you've been in touch with the best in the field."
"Er …"
"Give me the name of the Healer that you saw originally. I'll make some enquiries and make sure you're referred to the best."
"Draco, you don't need to-"
"No, Harry, I don't need to. I want to. In fact, I insist."
"Well, the thing is …"
"Yes?"
"I didn't exactly see anyone."
Draco was stunned into silence. What did Harry mean he hadn't seen anyone? Surely he didn't mean-
"How is it you came to know that you're dying?" Draco braced himself for the answer.
Harry looked down at his hands. He had a lousy poker face. "I looked at my memory of the day in a Pensieve, then looked up the spell in a book."
"You diagnosed yourself?" Draco asked incredulously. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Potter?"
"Look, Draco-"
"Don't look Draco me. I can't believe you haven't seen a professional. How do you know you're even ill? You look just fine, and-"
"Draco, the symptoms all matched."
"Symptoms? But you have no symptoms!"
"The symptoms that occurred a few days after it happened. They all match, as does the fact that they go away after the curse settles in." Harry brought out the book and showed Draco.
With all the patience he had, Draco tried to stay calm. "Did it ever occur to you that different curses show similar symptoms? Or that you might have had something as mundane as the flu? Did you stop to think that you might be wrong?"
"Er …"
"Fuck, Harry! You're putting yourself-and me, I might add-through hell and back, and you might be perfectly fine!"
"I'm not. I know I'm not."
"How do you know?"
"Look, I heard the curse, and this is it." He pointed at the spell in the tome. "There's no way to diagnose what's wrong until the curse comes out of remission. There's nothing to be done until then." Harry pulled Draco into his arms. "I am dying, Draco. There's nothing either of us can do to stop it."
* * * * *
Harry had been right. Much as it pained Draco to admit, after consulting with no less than ten British specialists, and a few foreign ones, he had to accept that there was nothing anyone could do until Harry started to show signs.
But then Draco remembered that day. He had been listening to the battle over the surveillance equipment as it had broken out. Perhaps Harry had misheard the spell.
Reluctantly, Harry agreed to watch Draco's Pensieve memories as well as his own. It turned out that the curse, although it sounded like the one Harry had found, was not clear enough in either of their memories for them to be sure. In fact, if Draco listened hard enough, he could convince himself that Harry had been wrong all along. That slim hope got him through the next few months.
* * * * *
Harry hadn't wanted to involve Draco, but he had to admit the man was good for him. He still thought he was being unfair to Draco, allowing him to fall so deeply. Even though Draco had never said the words, never allowed himself to be so open about his feelings, Harry knew Draco loved him. Just as much as Harry loved Draco. Which made everything harder. Sure, his day-to-day life was all the more complete with Draco in it, but knowing that they would have such a short time together made him angry. He tried not to let it get the better of him, but it was all so unfair and some days it was just too much. And here Harry was, subjecting Draco to the same pain-worse even. Harry couldn't imagine living on for decades after Draco died. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to think about that. Unfortunately, his guilt was eating him up inside.
Which was the only reason he agreed to entertain this new theory of Draco's. Harry didn't want to cling to false hope, but if there was a chance that he wasn't dying, that he and Draco would have more than the next few months together, well who was he to argue? They'd know soon enough anyway.
Harry suspected, though Draco never said, that he had consulted Healers and had discovered that what Harry said was true-that there was nothing to be done until the curse's effects started to surface. But it hadn't stopped Draco from venturing down another path. He was convinced that maybe Harry had got it all wrong, that he'd misunderstood the spell, and that it could have been something else entirely.
Efforts to confirm this theory by locating the wizard who'd cast the curse failed; his body had evidently been discovered months earlier in Knockturn Alley.
* * * * *
"I don't believe you," Granger said, having cornered Draco in his office-again-to talk about Harry. "Sure, he's been better, but he's still not... Harry. What's going on?"
"Besides the two of us having, on a near-daily basis, the best sex either of us has ever had? I can't imagine what you're talking about."
Draco was pleased to see Granger's face redden at his words. He had so little opportunity to torment Gryffindors lately. Well, if you didn't count Harry. And tormenting him (Draco's favourite tease was parading around in nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs when he knew Harry had to go to work) was nearly as much fun for Harry as it was for Draco, so that hardly counted.
"He's still not talking to us."
"Did you think about asking him? Perhaps he would talk to you if you asked."
"I have asked. He won't tell me anything."
"Then what do you expect me to tell you?"
"The truth."
"Granger, if there was something that Harry told me that he didn't tell you, perhaps he doesn't want you to know. Why would you expect me to betray his confidence?"
"So there is something."
"Nice try. I didn't say any such thing."
"But there is something. I just know it."
"If you're so convinced, talk to him. I suspect he'd be easier to break down than I am." Draco gave her his best brush-off smile and left her to simmer in his office.
* * * * *
Despite his need to maintain Harry's confidence, Draco had to admit that Harry's friends had a point. They had been the topic of several heated rows since Harry had told Draco the truth. But Harry had been steadfast in his desire to maintain silence on the matter where his friends were concerned.
Draco insisted that Harry's friends would want to know, would want the opportunity to say their goodbyes, but Harry had held firmly to the fact that he needed his life to be as normal as possible. They'd all find out eventually, and they could say their goodbyes then. Draco had relented, but things had been strained between them for a good week after each time they discussed it.
Soon enough, Granger showed up at Harry's flat, angrier than Draco had ever seen her.
"Harry James Potter," she began. Draco's mouth twitched at the sight, glad that her ire was directed towards Harry and not him. "You will tell me what's going on with you, and I'm not leaving until you do."
"I'll give you two some privacy," Draco offered.
As Draco made to leave the room, Harry's hand grasped his wrist desperately. "Don't leave me with her," he begged.
Draco chuckled. "She's your best friend, Potter. Surely you can handle this on your own." He looked at Granger's expression and smiled.
Harry's grip tightened. "Please."
"Granger?" he asked. "Is that alright, or shall I leave the two of you alone?"
Frowning at the loss of her momentum, she nodded at Draco. "Whatever. Stay. Go. It doesn't matter." She shot a look at Harry. "He won't help, you know."
"No, but if you hex me, he'll be able to get me to St Mungo's," Harry joked. Another look at Granger and Draco knew that was a distinct possibility.
"Harry, what's going on with you? You're not acting like yourself. You're distant, you never visit, and we hardly ever see you. I know that we all have our own lives to be getting on with, but this... this is more than that. It's like you're avoiding us altogether."
"It's just..."
"Ron thinks it's Draco here, poisoning you against us."
Draco sat up straight, about to defend himself, when Granger waved him off.
"Relax. I don't think that. Neither does he, truth be told; he just likes saying it. There's something else, isn't there, Harry? Something you're trying to keep from us."
"I don't... I just don't want to talk about it, 'Mione. Not yet. Can you give me some time?"
"No, Harry, I can't. You've already had plenty of time. Something's bothering you-something big-and I can't just sit back and watch it destroy you."
Harry coughed at those words and his grip on Draco's wrist tightened painfully. Draco nudged him in support.
"See what I mean? There's something you aren't telling me, and Draco refuses to-"
Harry turned to Draco. "She's been talking to you too?"
Draco laughed. "I thought you two were acquainted. Potter, this is Granger. She happens to be as relentless as another woman we both know, especially when it comes to protecting her friends." As he said the words, Draco was shocked to realise that he meant them. The look on Granger's face told him that she was as shocked as he. "Fortunately for you, she lacks the Slytherin slyness required to extract information from me."
"Fine," Harry sighed. "I'll tell you." Releasing his grip on Draco's arm, Harry moved next to Granger. "But no trying to fix everything. You have your own life to be getting on with."
Granger raised an eyebrow, making it clear that she had no intention of staying out of it. "Harry, just tell me. I make no promises."
Harry took her hands in his and explained what had happened.
"Oh, Harry!" she cried, pulling him into a fierce hug, tears streaming down her face. "I can't believe you kept this all to yourself."
"Well, I didn't... not exactly."
She turned and smiled at Draco. Then, most surprisingly, she went over to Draco and gave him a hug too. "I'm so glad you've been here for Harry."
Shocked, he patted her on the back, not sure what else to do. "Don't mention it," he said. "Where else would I be?"
After agreeing to leave the subject alone for now, Draco made some tea, and they spent the next half hour talking about friends and family and work.
As Granger was about to leave, Draco stopped her. "Granger, may I ask you something about a case at work? There's a detail you might know something about."
"If you two don't mind, I'll just leave you to talk shop," Harry suggested. "I'm knackered."
Smiling, Draco waved him off.
"Thank you," Granger said as Harry left the room.
"I didn't do anything," he insisted.
"Very well, don't admit it," she replied. "But I know you wore him down before I got here. I want you to know I appreciate it."
"Yes, well, whatever. Listen, Granger, I need to be quick about this. I don't want Harry to hear."
"What is it? Is he worse than he's letting on? Does he need our help? What can we do?"
"Merlin, woman, could you shut up for a minute and let me talk?" he said. Honestly, it was a wonder anyone got a word in with her around. "I have a theory."
He explained his thoughts to her, and arranged for her to drop by his office the next day.
He showed her his memory, and she took it and his Pensieve back to her flat to do what she did best-research.
* * * * *
It was nearly two weeks later when a triumphant-looking Hermione entered Draco's office. "I think I have it!"
"You do?"
"I'm not sure, but... well... yes, I think so."
"And?"
"Well, it's not great news, but... well, I suppose it is, given the alternative."
"So Harry's not dying?"
"Like I said, I'm not sure. But I believe you're correct. I think he misinterpreted the spell. Of course, they sound alike, only one letter off, and the symptoms are very similar. In fact, I read in one book that-"
"Granger!" Draco snapped his fingers close to her face. "Focus. What did you find out?"
"Oh, sorry. Well, while it may be the spell Harry thinks it is, I believe it's another one. One that also has no cure, but can be managed with potions. Harry was right about the delayed-effect; that part of the spell is commonly used with curses. But the curse itself, while permanent in much the same way as the other one, has a rather unusual effect."
"Unusual in what way?"
"Well, you see..."
* * * * *
Six months later, as Harry emerged from the Healer's office, Draco wasn't sure what to think. Harry looked shocked, but neither in a definitively positive nor negative way.
"What's wrong, Harry?" he asked. No response. "Were they able to figure out what the curse was?" Harry nodded. "And was Hermione right?" Another nod. Draco pulled Harry into his arms. "Well, that's great news, isn't it?" he said. After all, it meant that Harry wasn't going to die.
Harry gave him a desperate look.
"Oh, come on," Draco said encouragingly. "We just need to figure out the timing, to make sure-"
"Too late."
"Wh-what do you mean, too late?"
"I mean it's too late." Harry looked positively ill. "I'm... I'm..."
"Ohmygod! You're not!"
"I am."
"Er... Harry?" he ventured.
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What?" he asked, rather curtly.
"This could be a good thing, you know."
Harry shot him a look that would make most men cower. Draco stood his ground.
"I will be the laughing stock of the wizarding world," Harry complained.
"No you won't be."
Harry shot him a look that suggested he ought to try pulling the other one.
"Well, alright. I won't deny that it'll get you some attention."
"I'm a man, Draco. And I'm PREGNANT! Attention is just the beginning."
"Well, then, just think about how wonderful it will be, the two of us, having children. I'm expected to have an heir, and you've always wanted children."
"Child, Draco. Just one. Because this is never happening again."
"Don't be so hasty, Harry."
Harry turned on him, poking him in the chest with his index finger. "You!" Poke. "This is all. Your. Fault." He emphasised every word with another nudge of his finger.
"Well, technically, it's both our faults. After all," Draco felt compelled to point out, "you were a willing participant too."
Harry smiled. "Exactly. And consider this fair warning. That was the last time I will ever bottom."
"Now, Harry, that's hardly fair!"
"Fair? Fair?! I'll show you fair. I know that spell now. Don't think I won't use it."
"You wouldn't dare," Draco said with more conviction than he felt. He saw the crazed look in Harry's eyes. "But... but you're a Gryffindor. All about chivalry and fair play and-"
"And last I heard, turnabout was fair play, Draco."
"You're a Gryffindor," Draco repeated. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, wouldn't I?" Harry replied. Smiling sweetly at Draco, he said, "Did I ever tell you that the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin?"
~ FIN
Beta: gabe_speaks
Brit picker: accioscar
Title: A Matter of Life or Death (2 of 2)
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Summary: EWE. Auror partners Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are known for bending and breaking the rules with such frequency, it comes as a surprise to everyone when they actually do follow protocol. After Malfoy ends up in hospital, Harry wonders if their luck has finally run out.
Warnings (if any): Brief mention of mpreg.
Total word count: ~ 11,000
Original prompt request number: 183
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A Matter of Life or Death - Part 2
Three months passed, and Draco heard nothing from Harry. Funnily enough, he missed their constant bickering most of all. Well, he supposed it was for the best. But as Christmas approached, Draco only felt worse. He couldn't imagine the holiday season without Harry in his life, even if only as a friend. They'd grown close over the years, and their annual shopping trip-when they would go to Hogsmeade and Draco would dismiss all of Harry's choices and help him choose more appropriate gifts-was looming ever nearer.
"What do you know about Harry?" Granger demanded, interrupting Draco's train of thought with her unannounced appearance at his office door. With one hand on her hip and the other gripping her wand-really, was she planning to hex the information out of him?-she looked very like Pansy on a mission. Determined. Angry. Unyielding. Draco shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
"Excuse me?" he asked.
"Harry. He's acting strangely. What do you know about it?"
"Apparently it's escaped your notice, but Potter has always acted strangely. What's so different now-besides quitting the only job he ever wanted?"
"Exactly. He's not thinking."
"He does everything without thinking."
"He's just… well, he's acting more strangely than usual."
"How so?" Draco asked. He knew he shouldn't ask; Granger was on a mission.
"Distant. Aloof."
"Granger, have you actually met Potter? He's always been like that."
"So you don't know anything?"
"He's told me nothing."
"Could you… well, could you just ask him?"
"Why would he tell me something he wouldn't tell you? After all, you and your husband are his best friends. I'm… well, I'm nothing." It hurt more than he wanted to admit to say those words, but they certainly seemed to be true.
Granger stared at him, her mouth open. "You're closer to him that you know. In fact, I don't think anyone is closer to Harry right now than you."
Had Harry told his friends what had happened between them? No, he couldn't have. "I haven't even spoken to him for months."
"Will you just do this, please? For Harry?"
* * * * *
Draco showed up unannounced at Harry's office that Friday, and if the smile that graced Harry's face at his presence was any indication, Draco had made the right decision.
"Draco, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"Our standing appointment, of course." Draco was pleased by the look of confusion on Harry's face. "Shopping. Hogsmeade. Keep up, Potter. You don't really expect me to leave you to your own devices when shopping for Christmas gifts, do you?"
Harry's face lit up the room. "Of course not," he said and grabbed his cloak.
* * * * *
Draco watched Harry across the table at the Three Broomsticks, their shopping done for the day. They had argued about nearly every purchase, Draco naturally winning each argument in the end. After all, it's not as if Harry had taste when it came to such things. All in all, it had been a success.
They had finished a bottle of wine over dinner and were almost halfway through a second. If Draco didn't know any better, he'd say it was almost normal, sitting there comfortably chatting with Harry. But Harry's face turned suddenly solemn, the edges of his mouth pulled towards the floor, his eyes downcast. Reality hit Draco at that very moment. Things were not well. Things were not normal.
"What are you thinking, Harry?" he ventured. He wanted to stay angry, but he just couldn't. Especially not when Harry looked so… wounded.
"Nothing." A raised eyebrow from Draco told him that answer wasn't good enough. "I just wish things could be different."
Draco braced himself. Why hadn't he just left things well enough alone? Since when did he risk getting hurt? Clearly being around a Gryffindor for years had taken its toll on him.
"I meant what I said, Draco. I've wanted you for so long."
"Then why?" Shit. That didn't sound pathetic and needy at all. Damn it. Why couldn't he just act like the Slytherin he knew he was? Because this is Harry, a voice inside him pointed out, most unhelpfully. Because he means too much to you.
"I-I can't say."
"Damn it, Potter, what can't you say? This is me! We've been together-partners-for too long for you to keep things from me. Just spit it out already!"
Harry mumbled something, but no… he couldn't have said what Draco thought he heard. "What was that?"
"I said I'm dying."
Oh. So it was what he heard.
"But you're Harry Potter. You can't die. You've made it your life's work to do just the opposite. What makes you think you're dying now?"
"Not now, but soon enough. That day at the barn, I was hit with a curse. It has a delayed reaction, but the end result is death. Only it's not as neat and clean as Avada Kedavra."
"But you look fine," Draco argued. "Better than fine, actually." Again. What was this business of spitting out the truth all of a sudden? It must have been the wine.
"It lies dormant for about a year, then over the course of about three months, it will shut down all the systems in my body, leaving me incapable of caring for myself, and in a lot of pain, before finally killing me."
This couldn't be happening. Not to Harry. He was a young man, in the prime of his life. "But… but you have a year. Get treatment." Draco wrung his hands in frustration, wanting to scream. "You have money. I have connections. We'll get you the best Healers in the world, Harry. We'll-"
"There's no cure, Draco. There have been no survivors of this… ever."
Draco struggled to make sense of it all. His mind latched on to the only thing he could, and he banged his fist on the table, eyes boring into Harry. "And there's only been one survivor of the Avada Kedavra curse, and in case you'd forgotten, that's you. If anyone can beat this, you can."
"I can't, Draco. My time has run out. I don't want to spend the time I have left undergoing treatments that won't work. I need to live this last year. It's all I have left."
They sat there in silence, for what felt like hours. It all made sense now. Of course Harry wouldn't want to start something with Draco, only to leave him in the end. It was so… so… Gryffindor of him. Instead of looking out for what was best for himself, he continued to protect the people around him, even if it was from himself.
Draco reached over and grabbed Harry's hand. "Let's get out of here."
* * * * *
They lay in Draco's bed, Harry sleeping and Draco watching over him. His heart ached for this man, but Draco was determined not to pity him; he knew that Harry would hate that. Besides, he was still a strong and vibrant man. Last night had been a testament to that. Draco pulled Harry into his arms as he remembered. It had been unhurried, yet no less passionate than the last time.
Only this time it was… more. Draco had known from their first kiss last night that there was no turning back. He was in it for good. Oh, hell! When did the Slytherin in him pack up and leave? It hadn't, he told himself. He was getting what he wanted out of this too. Harry.
He'd wanted Harry for as long as he could remember, probably before he knew it himself. So this was just as self-serving as anything else he'd done in his life. Keep telling yourself that, the annoying voice in his head argued. He shut it up by pulling Harry closer and falling back to sleep.
* * * * *
They enjoyed Saturday together, picking up a few last-minute gifts they hadn't got the day before and spending the evening in.
Sunday morning, Draco awoke to the most spectacular blow job he'd ever experienced. Of course, the fact that it was Harry staring up at him with mischievous green eyes didn't help his stamina. Draco was undone in what was surely the shortest time ever on record, aside from his teen years.
"You really are quite spectacular at that," he said as Harry crawled up to kiss him.
"Only for you," Harry responded. Draco's heart swelled at the words. Merlin, he was acting like such a girl.
"Just so you know, Potter, if you try calling me baby, I will have to hex your bollocks off. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm rather fond of them."
"So honey or darling are out, too?"
"Ugh." Draco shuddered. He smirked as another name crossed his mind. "You may call me your Slytherin god, if you wish."
"Prat." Harry swatted him. "Draco it is, then."
"Glad we cleared that up."
* * * * *
Draco realised Harry had been right. It was getting more difficult as time went on. Draco had fallen hard, and whenever he wasn't with Harry, he was thinking about Harry. And those thoughts inevitably led to thoughts about life without Harry.
They avoided talking about it, content to enjoy the time they had together. Draco had helped Harry connect with the right people to finish putting his affairs in order, but that was as close as they'd got to talking about things.
They still argued. After all, what would life be like without a little conflict? Harry still had messy hair, atrocious clothing and abysmal social skills. And he was still every bit a Gryffindor. After the shock of Harry's news had worn off, Draco's Slytherin side had returned full force.
Every once in a while, Draco would catch Harry staring off into space, looking like a lost soul. It tore Draco up inside to know that there was nothing he could do for Harry. Nothing except do his best to make their last months together as full of joy as possible.
After a few months, he asked Harry what he wanted to do, if there was anything left undone. Harry responded by saying, "I'm in love. What else is there?" That was the first time Draco had shed a tear. Only one, mind you. Life was so unfair!
* * * * *
Another couple of months went by before Draco asked, "What are your Healer's plans?" Harry had never discussed his appointments, their treatments, if there were any, or his future arrangements.
"Oh, I'm not seeing a Healer."
What? "I realise you don't want to be a test subject for experimental treatments, Harry, but what do you mean, you're not seeing a Healer?" Draco asked. Honestly, sometimes the man drove him mad. Well, most of the time, if he was to tell the truth. Some things never changed.
"Well, there's not much point, is there? Not for a few months yet, anyway."
"Are you going back to the one that diagnosed you, or have you been referred to a specialist?" Harry's silence spoke volumes. "You have discussed your future plans with a professional, right? Tell me you've been in touch with the best in the field."
"Er …"
"Give me the name of the Healer that you saw originally. I'll make some enquiries and make sure you're referred to the best."
"Draco, you don't need to-"
"No, Harry, I don't need to. I want to. In fact, I insist."
"Well, the thing is …"
"Yes?"
"I didn't exactly see anyone."
Draco was stunned into silence. What did Harry mean he hadn't seen anyone? Surely he didn't mean-
"How is it you came to know that you're dying?" Draco braced himself for the answer.
Harry looked down at his hands. He had a lousy poker face. "I looked at my memory of the day in a Pensieve, then looked up the spell in a book."
"You diagnosed yourself?" Draco asked incredulously. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Potter?"
"Look, Draco-"
"Don't look Draco me. I can't believe you haven't seen a professional. How do you know you're even ill? You look just fine, and-"
"Draco, the symptoms all matched."
"Symptoms? But you have no symptoms!"
"The symptoms that occurred a few days after it happened. They all match, as does the fact that they go away after the curse settles in." Harry brought out the book and showed Draco.
With all the patience he had, Draco tried to stay calm. "Did it ever occur to you that different curses show similar symptoms? Or that you might have had something as mundane as the flu? Did you stop to think that you might be wrong?"
"Er …"
"Fuck, Harry! You're putting yourself-and me, I might add-through hell and back, and you might be perfectly fine!"
"I'm not. I know I'm not."
"How do you know?"
"Look, I heard the curse, and this is it." He pointed at the spell in the tome. "There's no way to diagnose what's wrong until the curse comes out of remission. There's nothing to be done until then." Harry pulled Draco into his arms. "I am dying, Draco. There's nothing either of us can do to stop it."
* * * * *
Harry had been right. Much as it pained Draco to admit, after consulting with no less than ten British specialists, and a few foreign ones, he had to accept that there was nothing anyone could do until Harry started to show signs.
But then Draco remembered that day. He had been listening to the battle over the surveillance equipment as it had broken out. Perhaps Harry had misheard the spell.
Reluctantly, Harry agreed to watch Draco's Pensieve memories as well as his own. It turned out that the curse, although it sounded like the one Harry had found, was not clear enough in either of their memories for them to be sure. In fact, if Draco listened hard enough, he could convince himself that Harry had been wrong all along. That slim hope got him through the next few months.
* * * * *
Harry hadn't wanted to involve Draco, but he had to admit the man was good for him. He still thought he was being unfair to Draco, allowing him to fall so deeply. Even though Draco had never said the words, never allowed himself to be so open about his feelings, Harry knew Draco loved him. Just as much as Harry loved Draco. Which made everything harder. Sure, his day-to-day life was all the more complete with Draco in it, but knowing that they would have such a short time together made him angry. He tried not to let it get the better of him, but it was all so unfair and some days it was just too much. And here Harry was, subjecting Draco to the same pain-worse even. Harry couldn't imagine living on for decades after Draco died. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to think about that. Unfortunately, his guilt was eating him up inside.
Which was the only reason he agreed to entertain this new theory of Draco's. Harry didn't want to cling to false hope, but if there was a chance that he wasn't dying, that he and Draco would have more than the next few months together, well who was he to argue? They'd know soon enough anyway.
Harry suspected, though Draco never said, that he had consulted Healers and had discovered that what Harry said was true-that there was nothing to be done until the curse's effects started to surface. But it hadn't stopped Draco from venturing down another path. He was convinced that maybe Harry had got it all wrong, that he'd misunderstood the spell, and that it could have been something else entirely.
Efforts to confirm this theory by locating the wizard who'd cast the curse failed; his body had evidently been discovered months earlier in Knockturn Alley.
* * * * *
"I don't believe you," Granger said, having cornered Draco in his office-again-to talk about Harry. "Sure, he's been better, but he's still not... Harry. What's going on?"
"Besides the two of us having, on a near-daily basis, the best sex either of us has ever had? I can't imagine what you're talking about."
Draco was pleased to see Granger's face redden at his words. He had so little opportunity to torment Gryffindors lately. Well, if you didn't count Harry. And tormenting him (Draco's favourite tease was parading around in nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs when he knew Harry had to go to work) was nearly as much fun for Harry as it was for Draco, so that hardly counted.
"He's still not talking to us."
"Did you think about asking him? Perhaps he would talk to you if you asked."
"I have asked. He won't tell me anything."
"Then what do you expect me to tell you?"
"The truth."
"Granger, if there was something that Harry told me that he didn't tell you, perhaps he doesn't want you to know. Why would you expect me to betray his confidence?"
"So there is something."
"Nice try. I didn't say any such thing."
"But there is something. I just know it."
"If you're so convinced, talk to him. I suspect he'd be easier to break down than I am." Draco gave her his best brush-off smile and left her to simmer in his office.
* * * * *
Despite his need to maintain Harry's confidence, Draco had to admit that Harry's friends had a point. They had been the topic of several heated rows since Harry had told Draco the truth. But Harry had been steadfast in his desire to maintain silence on the matter where his friends were concerned.
Draco insisted that Harry's friends would want to know, would want the opportunity to say their goodbyes, but Harry had held firmly to the fact that he needed his life to be as normal as possible. They'd all find out eventually, and they could say their goodbyes then. Draco had relented, but things had been strained between them for a good week after each time they discussed it.
Soon enough, Granger showed up at Harry's flat, angrier than Draco had ever seen her.
"Harry James Potter," she began. Draco's mouth twitched at the sight, glad that her ire was directed towards Harry and not him. "You will tell me what's going on with you, and I'm not leaving until you do."
"I'll give you two some privacy," Draco offered.
As Draco made to leave the room, Harry's hand grasped his wrist desperately. "Don't leave me with her," he begged.
Draco chuckled. "She's your best friend, Potter. Surely you can handle this on your own." He looked at Granger's expression and smiled.
Harry's grip tightened. "Please."
"Granger?" he asked. "Is that alright, or shall I leave the two of you alone?"
Frowning at the loss of her momentum, she nodded at Draco. "Whatever. Stay. Go. It doesn't matter." She shot a look at Harry. "He won't help, you know."
"No, but if you hex me, he'll be able to get me to St Mungo's," Harry joked. Another look at Granger and Draco knew that was a distinct possibility.
"Harry, what's going on with you? You're not acting like yourself. You're distant, you never visit, and we hardly ever see you. I know that we all have our own lives to be getting on with, but this... this is more than that. It's like you're avoiding us altogether."
"It's just..."
"Ron thinks it's Draco here, poisoning you against us."
Draco sat up straight, about to defend himself, when Granger waved him off.
"Relax. I don't think that. Neither does he, truth be told; he just likes saying it. There's something else, isn't there, Harry? Something you're trying to keep from us."
"I don't... I just don't want to talk about it, 'Mione. Not yet. Can you give me some time?"
"No, Harry, I can't. You've already had plenty of time. Something's bothering you-something big-and I can't just sit back and watch it destroy you."
Harry coughed at those words and his grip on Draco's wrist tightened painfully. Draco nudged him in support.
"See what I mean? There's something you aren't telling me, and Draco refuses to-"
Harry turned to Draco. "She's been talking to you too?"
Draco laughed. "I thought you two were acquainted. Potter, this is Granger. She happens to be as relentless as another woman we both know, especially when it comes to protecting her friends." As he said the words, Draco was shocked to realise that he meant them. The look on Granger's face told him that she was as shocked as he. "Fortunately for you, she lacks the Slytherin slyness required to extract information from me."
"Fine," Harry sighed. "I'll tell you." Releasing his grip on Draco's arm, Harry moved next to Granger. "But no trying to fix everything. You have your own life to be getting on with."
Granger raised an eyebrow, making it clear that she had no intention of staying out of it. "Harry, just tell me. I make no promises."
Harry took her hands in his and explained what had happened.
"Oh, Harry!" she cried, pulling him into a fierce hug, tears streaming down her face. "I can't believe you kept this all to yourself."
"Well, I didn't... not exactly."
She turned and smiled at Draco. Then, most surprisingly, she went over to Draco and gave him a hug too. "I'm so glad you've been here for Harry."
Shocked, he patted her on the back, not sure what else to do. "Don't mention it," he said. "Where else would I be?"
After agreeing to leave the subject alone for now, Draco made some tea, and they spent the next half hour talking about friends and family and work.
As Granger was about to leave, Draco stopped her. "Granger, may I ask you something about a case at work? There's a detail you might know something about."
"If you two don't mind, I'll just leave you to talk shop," Harry suggested. "I'm knackered."
Smiling, Draco waved him off.
"Thank you," Granger said as Harry left the room.
"I didn't do anything," he insisted.
"Very well, don't admit it," she replied. "But I know you wore him down before I got here. I want you to know I appreciate it."
"Yes, well, whatever. Listen, Granger, I need to be quick about this. I don't want Harry to hear."
"What is it? Is he worse than he's letting on? Does he need our help? What can we do?"
"Merlin, woman, could you shut up for a minute and let me talk?" he said. Honestly, it was a wonder anyone got a word in with her around. "I have a theory."
He explained his thoughts to her, and arranged for her to drop by his office the next day.
He showed her his memory, and she took it and his Pensieve back to her flat to do what she did best-research.
* * * * *
It was nearly two weeks later when a triumphant-looking Hermione entered Draco's office. "I think I have it!"
"You do?"
"I'm not sure, but... well... yes, I think so."
"And?"
"Well, it's not great news, but... well, I suppose it is, given the alternative."
"So Harry's not dying?"
"Like I said, I'm not sure. But I believe you're correct. I think he misinterpreted the spell. Of course, they sound alike, only one letter off, and the symptoms are very similar. In fact, I read in one book that-"
"Granger!" Draco snapped his fingers close to her face. "Focus. What did you find out?"
"Oh, sorry. Well, while it may be the spell Harry thinks it is, I believe it's another one. One that also has no cure, but can be managed with potions. Harry was right about the delayed-effect; that part of the spell is commonly used with curses. But the curse itself, while permanent in much the same way as the other one, has a rather unusual effect."
"Unusual in what way?"
"Well, you see..."
* * * * *
Six months later, as Harry emerged from the Healer's office, Draco wasn't sure what to think. Harry looked shocked, but neither in a definitively positive nor negative way.
"What's wrong, Harry?" he asked. No response. "Were they able to figure out what the curse was?" Harry nodded. "And was Hermione right?" Another nod. Draco pulled Harry into his arms. "Well, that's great news, isn't it?" he said. After all, it meant that Harry wasn't going to die.
Harry gave him a desperate look.
"Oh, come on," Draco said encouragingly. "We just need to figure out the timing, to make sure-"
"Too late."
"Wh-what do you mean, too late?"
"I mean it's too late." Harry looked positively ill. "I'm... I'm..."
"Ohmygod! You're not!"
"I am."
"Er... Harry?" he ventured.
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What?" he asked, rather curtly.
"This could be a good thing, you know."
Harry shot him a look that would make most men cower. Draco stood his ground.
"I will be the laughing stock of the wizarding world," Harry complained.
"No you won't be."
Harry shot him a look that suggested he ought to try pulling the other one.
"Well, alright. I won't deny that it'll get you some attention."
"I'm a man, Draco. And I'm PREGNANT! Attention is just the beginning."
"Well, then, just think about how wonderful it will be, the two of us, having children. I'm expected to have an heir, and you've always wanted children."
"Child, Draco. Just one. Because this is never happening again."
"Don't be so hasty, Harry."
Harry turned on him, poking him in the chest with his index finger. "You!" Poke. "This is all. Your. Fault." He emphasised every word with another nudge of his finger.
"Well, technically, it's both our faults. After all," Draco felt compelled to point out, "you were a willing participant too."
Harry smiled. "Exactly. And consider this fair warning. That was the last time I will ever bottom."
"Now, Harry, that's hardly fair!"
"Fair? Fair?! I'll show you fair. I know that spell now. Don't think I won't use it."
"You wouldn't dare," Draco said with more conviction than he felt. He saw the crazed look in Harry's eyes. "But... but you're a Gryffindor. All about chivalry and fair play and-"
"And last I heard, turnabout was fair play, Draco."
"You're a Gryffindor," Draco repeated. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, wouldn't I?" Harry replied. Smiling sweetly at Draco, he said, "Did I ever tell you that the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin?"
~ FIN