Fic: There There for raegan_1
Title: There There
Author:
Giftee: raegan_1
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3000+
Author/Artist's Notes: The song is by Radiohead. I am always inspired by music and these were the images and story that unfolded. It is unbeta'd, so forgive. I hope my gift is received with the good intention it was written with.
Summary: As life ebbed away from the pale young man, reality began to blur. The dreams for redemption begin...
In pitch dark
I go walking in
Your landscape
Broken branches
Trip me as I speak
~*~
“I’m nothing but a bloody fool,” hissed the thin blonde as he trudged through the wilderness surrounding him. He still questioned his sanity for taking on such a quest. But Draco Malfoy knew that he’d do anything for him. Anything to prove he wasn’t what they all believed him to be.
His mind raced with a fevered anger. An anger only he could cause. Why do I always allow him to bate me? Why do I let him run me in circles of madness, just on a whim? But it wasn’t a whim, it was…what was it? Redemption? He supposed so.
Draco wiped his sweating brow with the handkerchief that he retrieved from his heavy leather belt. It was humid in these woods. He had to step lightly, wary of the branches and roots that threatened to trip the intruder among their midst. Not even the forest wished him well. He was no more welcome here then he was at his home.
The forest was almost black. Shafts of green light, choked with dust, striped the trees and ground showing a worn pathway. Draco followed it, for hours, days, it seemed. He couldn’t even remember how he’d arrived in the foreboding wood, but he wouldn’t disappoint him. He would deliver what was requested. For redemption he would move mountains.
The canopy above him broke slightly and a bright swath of light almost blinded him. Squinting, he could just make out the shape of the side of a mountain. “Almost there,” he sighed, with obvious relief. At the base of the mountain there seemed to be a darkness that felt as if it could suck in the world. Draco felt fear mixed with his excitement, mostly fear. With a deep breath, he started toward the cave.
~*~
Just because you feel it
Doesn’t mean its there
Just because you feel it
Doesn’t mean its there
~*~
As he drew closer, his fear spread. It was as though all wonder, happiness, joy were being sucked from him. Is this what it feels like to be surrounded by Dementors? He shuddered at the thought, wishing more than anything he could turn back and tell them all to go to hell. But he would find me, hunt me down, make me pay, he thought. For an odd reason the thought made him smile.
The mouth of the cave loomed in front of him and Draco had to wonder how he got there so fast. He couldn’t see within, the darkness was too thick to penetrate. He pulled his wand and cast Lumos, but it didn’t do a thing. The darkness seemed to absorb the light. It was eerie and his stomach began to tighten. There was something here, something in the darkness that swirled and tried to suck him in.
What did Snape say about this? he asked himself. He had forgotten. He never forgot a lesson, especially if it was a lesson that would keep him alive. He realized that he couldn’t even remember who he was, the fear was so great. There’s something here, there’s something here, there’s something here… he thought, his hands were trembling and his eyes wide, searching the pitch black air around him. But still, he moved forward.
He could feel whatever it was, drawing near, pulling him by will. I won’t scream, I won’t scream, he thought, frantically. If it touches me, I swear I’ll scream.
He willed his feet to stop moving forward. He wanted to leave the cave, he wished to go, leave this horrid forest with its dangerous roots. He wanted to go, leave this place forever, and the devil be damned for what needed to be accomplished. Accomplished? He’d been given a task. He’d been found out and now he had to pay. He had to find the object of his redemption.
He took a step. It all rushed back to him. A step. What he’d done, why he was there. A step. It was all for him.
Another step and a bolt of lightning broke through the darkness.
~*~
There’s always a siren
Singing you to shipwreck
Steer away from these rocks
We’d be a walking disaster
~*~
The salt air tickled his nose. It had been so long since Draco had been at sea. He remembered his father taking him on trips like this, across the Atlantic to America. It was a rather old fashioned way to travel but his father seemed to enjoy it. His father always seemed to be at home on the waves.
Leaning against the mast, Draco looked up at the billowing sails above him. The wind was blowing hard and the air smelled of a storm, though the skies were brilliant blue. If someone witnessed this young man standing on this ship, they’d have thought that it was Lucius, once more travelling the seas.
Though at home, Draco felt as though he didn’t belong here. He honestly couldn’t even remember how he’d gotten onto the ship. The last thing he remembered, he was at Hogwarts, staring him down. He had made him feel small, insignificant, bad. He hated feeling that way. Draco was only following orders.
Orders. He had orders, he had a job to do. He would find the object of his redemption. But he couldn’t remember what that was, exactly. All he knew was that when he closed his eyes, a lightning shape would burn behind the lids. So he would stand there, wind blowing in his face, waves slapping the sides of the ship and his eyes shut. He’d listen to the sounds about him trying to make sense of the madness that circled his mind. He had no direction, yet he had a quest. He had no memory, yet here he was.
A sound unlike the wind, unlike the waves, made him open his eyes and walk toward the bow of the ship. A sound that drew him, lured him, made all the madness in his head dissipate. The most beautiful singing called to him, made him forget everything, just as the thing in the cave had, but in a sweeter more sinful way. He wanted nothing more than to turn the ship toward the soft melody. He turned to the crew.
There was no crew. He was alone on this huge ship, drifting past an island where something beautiful was singing to him. He knew she had to be beautiful, nothing that could sound so lovely could be ugly.
Panic set in, he couldn’t steer this ship alone and he couldn’t stay here and let those lovely voices fade away in the distance. They wanted him and he wanted the bliss of the oblivion they promised. The ship was drifting farther away from the shore and the voices were beginning to fade.
~*~
Just because you feel it
Doesn’t mean it’s there
Just because you feel it
Doesn’t mean it’s there
~*~
Draco jumped over the side of the ship. Immediately he regretted it as his leather boots and heavy wool cloak began to weigh him down. The only thing he could do was swim toward the beach.
The song was gone and he no longer cared. He only wanted to find the shore and dry land. But the ship is right here. Swim back before you drown, he chided himself. Casting a glance over his shoulder he felt his stomach sink, pulling him down with it. The ship was gone, vanished. But it had been there, he’d been standing on it. Draco had no time to think about that, he had to swim to shore.
The water was pulling on him as he paddled. No ship, no shore and no siren song to keep him company. His arms ached and his legs were beginning to cramp, but he continued on. He knew he was going to drown, but he wouldn’t just give up. The cold of the ocean was beginning to take its toll because he was beginning to hear voices.
“Malfoy? Malfoy, please…”
Actually, not voices but a voice, soft and pleading. His voice.
Draco swam onward, the waves taking him under every once and awhile.
“I’m so sorry, Malfoy. I…I didn’t mean it. Oh Merlin, please don’t die…”
He didn’t wish to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to make up for everything he’d been attempting to do.
Maybe this was his redemption. To die to be redeemed.
He stopped paddling and took one last breath before the weight of his clothing and his own heart pulled him under.
The water was cold but welcoming. He wouldn’t have to worry about his past and wonder for his future. He’d be free…but alone.
The darkness of the ocean’s depths enfolded him like a wet blanket. He thought of his father and his stern eyes. He remembered the last time he’d seen his mother and her sweet kiss to his brow. He remembered the last face he saw at Hogwarts before his world went mad and he suddenly realized that he was not alone in the ocean as the faint feel of a kiss brushed his cheek.
~*~
Why so green & lonely?
Heaven sent you to me
~*~
He awoke to pain in his chest. This seemed odd to him, considering he’d always believed that he wouldn’t feel pain after death. He stretched out a hand and felt soft worn fabric and a mattress beneath him. He cracked one eye and was grateful for the dim light. The sound of voices came to him from across the room. He closed his eye again and just listened.
“Severus, did you see Harry use the curse on Mister Malfoy?” the voice of Albus Dumbledore asked.
“No sir, but he was there, kneeling over Draco and begging him to remain awake.” Draco could hear the contempt in the Potions master’s voice.
There was silence and the rustle of a curtain. He could feel them watching him and he could feel an odd presence beside him. He still didn’t dare open his eyes.
“Should I call Professor McGonagall to take Potter back to Gryffindor?” Snape said, the words sounded as though they tasted foul in his mouth.
A soft sigh and then Dumbledore spoke. “No, let him stay. I think that when Mister Malfoy wakes, he and Harry will have a lot to discuss.” There was another rustle of material and the sound of the door to the Hospital wing open. “Poppy, let them rest, but please do notify me when they have finished yelling at one another.
“But Headmaster…” Madam Pomfrey began but was cut off by Dumbledore.
“Not to worry, I’ve already taken their wands.” Then the door shut and all was silent.
Well, not totally silent. There was still the issue of the presence Draco could feel next to him. And the presence had begun to snore.
He opened his eyes slowly and looked over to see a mass of black hair. He tried to sit up but gasped at the shock of pain that coursed through his chest. He dared not look down at the bandages wrapping him. He could feel them and that was enough for him. The gasp woke the mass of hair and it sat up, blinking large green eyes at him. It seems that Potter must have set up a vigil to his own crime.
“Malfoy,” Potter said.
“Potter,” Draco returned, ignoring the pain in his chest.
They looked at each other for a moment before Draco spoke. “You tried to kill me,” he said, the words sounded whiney and childlike to his own ears. He hated to think of how they sounded to Potter. He expected to hear words of protest.
“I’m sorry.”
“You did so…oh…what?” Draco asked, not sure he’d actually heard that correctly.
Green eyes took on a tortured look which gave Draco a moment of thrill. “I didn’t know that that’s what the spell would do.” He looked truly sorry. Draco was truly confused, but he refused to show it. He winced once more as he tried to sit up. Lying down was so undignified and it made it difficult to look imposing.
“Don’t…” Potter exclaimed, his body poised to jump to Draco’s rescue, if need be.
“Don’t what? Don’t you tell me what to do.” With that, despite all the pain, Draco sat upright in the hospital bed. “You didn’t know what the spell would do, yet you used it on me.” He waved a dismissive hand and snorted. “And you’re the saviour of wizarding world. Ha!”
Potter mumbled something under his breath.
“What was that, Potter?” Draco asked, eyeing the other young man. Potter was acting weird and he didn’t appreciate it.
“I said, I was stupid. What if I had tried it on Ron, what if I tried this one on him, he could have died…” his face blanched, making his scar stand out even darker against his skin.
Draco ignored the information about Weasel. If he had used this particular spell on that russet haired charity case, then he wouldn’t have had to follow through with any of his tasks. Potter wouldn’t have been sent to Azkaban, as per the fact that the idiot was sitting here tormenting him. But maybe he would have killed himself out of grief.
For some reason, that thought made him feel ill.
“So, you have a habit of using unknown spells,” Draco said, conversationally, as he pretended to be interested in straightening his sheets.
Potter blushed and this made Draco very happy. He opened his mouth to protest, but Draco cut him off. “Why have you been following me? Develop some sort of man-crush for me?”
He snorted at his own words but stopped as Potter’s blush turned a deeper red and he turned his face away.
Draco stared, the dreams he’d had of being in that strange forest and then on that ship, rushed back at him. He had sent him off, had forced him to go on that trek for redemption. He had been the one to kiss his cheek as he drowned and now he was sitting beside his hospital bed.
“Why have you been following me?” he asked once more, his voice not so haughty this time.
Potter turned to look at him, his blush still evident, but there was something else in his eyes. “I…I thought you were up to something. I needed to know.
I needed to see…”
“Why have you been following me?” This time his voice was soft.
Potter looked at him and swallowed hard. “I…I don’t know. I thought you were trying to help Voldemort.” Draco flinched at the name. “I couldn’t let you do that.”
“That explains why you started. Why did you follow me into the girls toilet?” He was no longer angry, only scared and confused.
Again, Potter swallowed loudly. “I don’t know.”
Draco wasn’t buying it. He got loud. “Why did you follow me into the girls toilet? Why have you been following me all year?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know, you do know. Why have you been whispering about me when
you think I’m out of earshot? Crabbe and Goyle have both seen you. Admit it, admit you were stalking me. Why?”
“I don’t know!” Potter stood up at this point and was clenching his fists.
His face was a bright red.
“Tell me. Tell me the truth, Potter. Tell me…”
“Because I think I…”
“What?”
“Because I think I…”
“Tell me, Potter. Tell me.” Draco tried to lean forward but the pain held him to the pillow.
“Because I think I…I fancy you!” Potter screamed and the room went silent. The bustle of daily hospital activity came to a screeching halt. Someone dropped something metal, possibly a bedpan, and the sound echoed through the large room.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Draco looked up at him and smiled. The obvious confusion painted on Potter’s face was priceless.
“What?” Potter asked, this time.
“Good,” Draco said, finally. He smoothed out his blanket and neatly folded his hands on his stomach, afraid to touch his own chest.
“Good? Are you mad? I tried to kill you…”
“I had tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on you…”
“I’ve been convinced that you’ve been plotting something all year…”
“You were right…”
“We hate one another…”
“Not anymore, obviously.”
With that, Potter paused. A curl touched the edge of his lip and his green eyes twinkled. Draco thought of just how much he’d always liked the colour green. “I really don’t hate you. Not anymore.”
“I guess I don’t hate you.” He thought for a moment. “Well, I hate you right now. Because I hurt. And I hate your hair. But your eyes are nice.”
This made Potter blush. “I like your hair,” he said and clapped a hand over his mouth, as though he had no control over it.
Draco shook his head and motioned to the now empty chair. “Sit before you pass out and end up in bed next to me.” This time they both blushed, but Potter did sit.
They sat in silence, Draco perfectly still, Potter worrying a corner of Draco’s blanket.
“What do we do now?” Potter finally ventured.
“First,” Draco said, grabbing Potter’s hands, stilling them from fussing with his sheets, “you stop doing that.” His hands remained on Potter’s. They were warm and slightly clammy, but it felt nice.
“And second?”
A soft smile curled his lips. Draco gave Potter’s hands a light squeeze. “I don’t know, Potter. I just don’t know.”
“You could start by calling me Harry.” Potter’s smile was brilliant. It reminded Draco of the ray of sunlight in the dark forest. The salty smell of the air on the sea. It reminded him of the dreams and of his purpose in them. He remembered he was searching for something. Searching for redemption.
Looking at that smile and those green eyes, he seemed to realize something. This was his redemption, right here, holding his hand.
He returned the smile and said, “We’ll see, Potter. We’ll see.”
We are accidents
Waiting
Waiting
To happen
The End
Author:
Giftee: raegan_1
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3000+
Author/Artist's Notes: The song is by Radiohead. I am always inspired by music and these were the images and story that unfolded. It is unbeta'd, so forgive. I hope my gift is received with the good intention it was written with.
Summary: As life ebbed away from the pale young man, reality began to blur. The dreams for redemption begin...
In pitch dark
I go walking in
Your landscape
Broken branches
Trip me as I speak
~*~
“I’m nothing but a bloody fool,” hissed the thin blonde as he trudged through the wilderness surrounding him. He still questioned his sanity for taking on such a quest. But Draco Malfoy knew that he’d do anything for him. Anything to prove he wasn’t what they all believed him to be.
His mind raced with a fevered anger. An anger only he could cause. Why do I always allow him to bate me? Why do I let him run me in circles of madness, just on a whim? But it wasn’t a whim, it was…what was it? Redemption? He supposed so.
Draco wiped his sweating brow with the handkerchief that he retrieved from his heavy leather belt. It was humid in these woods. He had to step lightly, wary of the branches and roots that threatened to trip the intruder among their midst. Not even the forest wished him well. He was no more welcome here then he was at his home.
The forest was almost black. Shafts of green light, choked with dust, striped the trees and ground showing a worn pathway. Draco followed it, for hours, days, it seemed. He couldn’t even remember how he’d arrived in the foreboding wood, but he wouldn’t disappoint him. He would deliver what was requested. For redemption he would move mountains.
The canopy above him broke slightly and a bright swath of light almost blinded him. Squinting, he could just make out the shape of the side of a mountain. “Almost there,” he sighed, with obvious relief. At the base of the mountain there seemed to be a darkness that felt as if it could suck in the world. Draco felt fear mixed with his excitement, mostly fear. With a deep breath, he started toward the cave.
~*~
Just because you feel it
Doesn’t mean its there
Just because you feel it
Doesn’t mean its there
~*~
As he drew closer, his fear spread. It was as though all wonder, happiness, joy were being sucked from him. Is this what it feels like to be surrounded by Dementors? He shuddered at the thought, wishing more than anything he could turn back and tell them all to go to hell. But he would find me, hunt me down, make me pay, he thought. For an odd reason the thought made him smile.
The mouth of the cave loomed in front of him and Draco had to wonder how he got there so fast. He couldn’t see within, the darkness was too thick to penetrate. He pulled his wand and cast Lumos, but it didn’t do a thing. The darkness seemed to absorb the light. It was eerie and his stomach began to tighten. There was something here, something in the darkness that swirled and tried to suck him in.
What did Snape say about this? he asked himself. He had forgotten. He never forgot a lesson, especially if it was a lesson that would keep him alive. He realized that he couldn’t even remember who he was, the fear was so great. There’s something here, there’s something here, there’s something here… he thought, his hands were trembling and his eyes wide, searching the pitch black air around him. But still, he moved forward.
He could feel whatever it was, drawing near, pulling him by will. I won’t scream, I won’t scream, he thought, frantically. If it touches me, I swear I’ll scream.
He willed his feet to stop moving forward. He wanted to leave the cave, he wished to go, leave this horrid forest with its dangerous roots. He wanted to go, leave this place forever, and the devil be damned for what needed to be accomplished. Accomplished? He’d been given a task. He’d been found out and now he had to pay. He had to find the object of his redemption.
He took a step. It all rushed back to him. A step. What he’d done, why he was there. A step. It was all for him.
Another step and a bolt of lightning broke through the darkness.
~*~
There’s always a siren
Singing you to shipwreck
Steer away from these rocks
We’d be a walking disaster
~*~
The salt air tickled his nose. It had been so long since Draco had been at sea. He remembered his father taking him on trips like this, across the Atlantic to America. It was a rather old fashioned way to travel but his father seemed to enjoy it. His father always seemed to be at home on the waves.
Leaning against the mast, Draco looked up at the billowing sails above him. The wind was blowing hard and the air smelled of a storm, though the skies were brilliant blue. If someone witnessed this young man standing on this ship, they’d have thought that it was Lucius, once more travelling the seas.
Though at home, Draco felt as though he didn’t belong here. He honestly couldn’t even remember how he’d gotten onto the ship. The last thing he remembered, he was at Hogwarts, staring him down. He had made him feel small, insignificant, bad. He hated feeling that way. Draco was only following orders.
Orders. He had orders, he had a job to do. He would find the object of his redemption. But he couldn’t remember what that was, exactly. All he knew was that when he closed his eyes, a lightning shape would burn behind the lids. So he would stand there, wind blowing in his face, waves slapping the sides of the ship and his eyes shut. He’d listen to the sounds about him trying to make sense of the madness that circled his mind. He had no direction, yet he had a quest. He had no memory, yet here he was.
A sound unlike the wind, unlike the waves, made him open his eyes and walk toward the bow of the ship. A sound that drew him, lured him, made all the madness in his head dissipate. The most beautiful singing called to him, made him forget everything, just as the thing in the cave had, but in a sweeter more sinful way. He wanted nothing more than to turn the ship toward the soft melody. He turned to the crew.
There was no crew. He was alone on this huge ship, drifting past an island where something beautiful was singing to him. He knew she had to be beautiful, nothing that could sound so lovely could be ugly.
Panic set in, he couldn’t steer this ship alone and he couldn’t stay here and let those lovely voices fade away in the distance. They wanted him and he wanted the bliss of the oblivion they promised. The ship was drifting farther away from the shore and the voices were beginning to fade.
~*~
Just because you feel it
Doesn’t mean it’s there
Just because you feel it
Doesn’t mean it’s there
~*~
Draco jumped over the side of the ship. Immediately he regretted it as his leather boots and heavy wool cloak began to weigh him down. The only thing he could do was swim toward the beach.
The song was gone and he no longer cared. He only wanted to find the shore and dry land. But the ship is right here. Swim back before you drown, he chided himself. Casting a glance over his shoulder he felt his stomach sink, pulling him down with it. The ship was gone, vanished. But it had been there, he’d been standing on it. Draco had no time to think about that, he had to swim to shore.
The water was pulling on him as he paddled. No ship, no shore and no siren song to keep him company. His arms ached and his legs were beginning to cramp, but he continued on. He knew he was going to drown, but he wouldn’t just give up. The cold of the ocean was beginning to take its toll because he was beginning to hear voices.
“Malfoy? Malfoy, please…”
Actually, not voices but a voice, soft and pleading. His voice.
Draco swam onward, the waves taking him under every once and awhile.
“I’m so sorry, Malfoy. I…I didn’t mean it. Oh Merlin, please don’t die…”
He didn’t wish to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to make up for everything he’d been attempting to do.
Maybe this was his redemption. To die to be redeemed.
He stopped paddling and took one last breath before the weight of his clothing and his own heart pulled him under.
The water was cold but welcoming. He wouldn’t have to worry about his past and wonder for his future. He’d be free…but alone.
The darkness of the ocean’s depths enfolded him like a wet blanket. He thought of his father and his stern eyes. He remembered the last time he’d seen his mother and her sweet kiss to his brow. He remembered the last face he saw at Hogwarts before his world went mad and he suddenly realized that he was not alone in the ocean as the faint feel of a kiss brushed his cheek.
~*~
Why so green & lonely?
Heaven sent you to me
~*~
He awoke to pain in his chest. This seemed odd to him, considering he’d always believed that he wouldn’t feel pain after death. He stretched out a hand and felt soft worn fabric and a mattress beneath him. He cracked one eye and was grateful for the dim light. The sound of voices came to him from across the room. He closed his eye again and just listened.
“Severus, did you see Harry use the curse on Mister Malfoy?” the voice of Albus Dumbledore asked.
“No sir, but he was there, kneeling over Draco and begging him to remain awake.” Draco could hear the contempt in the Potions master’s voice.
There was silence and the rustle of a curtain. He could feel them watching him and he could feel an odd presence beside him. He still didn’t dare open his eyes.
“Should I call Professor McGonagall to take Potter back to Gryffindor?” Snape said, the words sounded as though they tasted foul in his mouth.
A soft sigh and then Dumbledore spoke. “No, let him stay. I think that when Mister Malfoy wakes, he and Harry will have a lot to discuss.” There was another rustle of material and the sound of the door to the Hospital wing open. “Poppy, let them rest, but please do notify me when they have finished yelling at one another.
“But Headmaster…” Madam Pomfrey began but was cut off by Dumbledore.
“Not to worry, I’ve already taken their wands.” Then the door shut and all was silent.
Well, not totally silent. There was still the issue of the presence Draco could feel next to him. And the presence had begun to snore.
He opened his eyes slowly and looked over to see a mass of black hair. He tried to sit up but gasped at the shock of pain that coursed through his chest. He dared not look down at the bandages wrapping him. He could feel them and that was enough for him. The gasp woke the mass of hair and it sat up, blinking large green eyes at him. It seems that Potter must have set up a vigil to his own crime.
“Malfoy,” Potter said.
“Potter,” Draco returned, ignoring the pain in his chest.
They looked at each other for a moment before Draco spoke. “You tried to kill me,” he said, the words sounded whiney and childlike to his own ears. He hated to think of how they sounded to Potter. He expected to hear words of protest.
“I’m sorry.”
“You did so…oh…what?” Draco asked, not sure he’d actually heard that correctly.
Green eyes took on a tortured look which gave Draco a moment of thrill. “I didn’t know that that’s what the spell would do.” He looked truly sorry. Draco was truly confused, but he refused to show it. He winced once more as he tried to sit up. Lying down was so undignified and it made it difficult to look imposing.
“Don’t…” Potter exclaimed, his body poised to jump to Draco’s rescue, if need be.
“Don’t what? Don’t you tell me what to do.” With that, despite all the pain, Draco sat upright in the hospital bed. “You didn’t know what the spell would do, yet you used it on me.” He waved a dismissive hand and snorted. “And you’re the saviour of wizarding world. Ha!”
Potter mumbled something under his breath.
“What was that, Potter?” Draco asked, eyeing the other young man. Potter was acting weird and he didn’t appreciate it.
“I said, I was stupid. What if I had tried it on Ron, what if I tried this one on him, he could have died…” his face blanched, making his scar stand out even darker against his skin.
Draco ignored the information about Weasel. If he had used this particular spell on that russet haired charity case, then he wouldn’t have had to follow through with any of his tasks. Potter wouldn’t have been sent to Azkaban, as per the fact that the idiot was sitting here tormenting him. But maybe he would have killed himself out of grief.
For some reason, that thought made him feel ill.
“So, you have a habit of using unknown spells,” Draco said, conversationally, as he pretended to be interested in straightening his sheets.
Potter blushed and this made Draco very happy. He opened his mouth to protest, but Draco cut him off. “Why have you been following me? Develop some sort of man-crush for me?”
He snorted at his own words but stopped as Potter’s blush turned a deeper red and he turned his face away.
Draco stared, the dreams he’d had of being in that strange forest and then on that ship, rushed back at him. He had sent him off, had forced him to go on that trek for redemption. He had been the one to kiss his cheek as he drowned and now he was sitting beside his hospital bed.
“Why have you been following me?” he asked once more, his voice not so haughty this time.
Potter turned to look at him, his blush still evident, but there was something else in his eyes. “I…I thought you were up to something. I needed to know.
I needed to see…”
“Why have you been following me?” This time his voice was soft.
Potter looked at him and swallowed hard. “I…I don’t know. I thought you were trying to help Voldemort.” Draco flinched at the name. “I couldn’t let you do that.”
“That explains why you started. Why did you follow me into the girls toilet?” He was no longer angry, only scared and confused.
Again, Potter swallowed loudly. “I don’t know.”
Draco wasn’t buying it. He got loud. “Why did you follow me into the girls toilet? Why have you been following me all year?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know, you do know. Why have you been whispering about me when
you think I’m out of earshot? Crabbe and Goyle have both seen you. Admit it, admit you were stalking me. Why?”
“I don’t know!” Potter stood up at this point and was clenching his fists.
His face was a bright red.
“Tell me. Tell me the truth, Potter. Tell me…”
“Because I think I…”
“What?”
“Because I think I…”
“Tell me, Potter. Tell me.” Draco tried to lean forward but the pain held him to the pillow.
“Because I think I…I fancy you!” Potter screamed and the room went silent. The bustle of daily hospital activity came to a screeching halt. Someone dropped something metal, possibly a bedpan, and the sound echoed through the large room.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Draco looked up at him and smiled. The obvious confusion painted on Potter’s face was priceless.
“What?” Potter asked, this time.
“Good,” Draco said, finally. He smoothed out his blanket and neatly folded his hands on his stomach, afraid to touch his own chest.
“Good? Are you mad? I tried to kill you…”
“I had tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on you…”
“I’ve been convinced that you’ve been plotting something all year…”
“You were right…”
“We hate one another…”
“Not anymore, obviously.”
With that, Potter paused. A curl touched the edge of his lip and his green eyes twinkled. Draco thought of just how much he’d always liked the colour green. “I really don’t hate you. Not anymore.”
“I guess I don’t hate you.” He thought for a moment. “Well, I hate you right now. Because I hurt. And I hate your hair. But your eyes are nice.”
This made Potter blush. “I like your hair,” he said and clapped a hand over his mouth, as though he had no control over it.
Draco shook his head and motioned to the now empty chair. “Sit before you pass out and end up in bed next to me.” This time they both blushed, but Potter did sit.
They sat in silence, Draco perfectly still, Potter worrying a corner of Draco’s blanket.
“What do we do now?” Potter finally ventured.
“First,” Draco said, grabbing Potter’s hands, stilling them from fussing with his sheets, “you stop doing that.” His hands remained on Potter’s. They were warm and slightly clammy, but it felt nice.
“And second?”
A soft smile curled his lips. Draco gave Potter’s hands a light squeeze. “I don’t know, Potter. I just don’t know.”
“You could start by calling me Harry.” Potter’s smile was brilliant. It reminded Draco of the ray of sunlight in the dark forest. The salty smell of the air on the sea. It reminded him of the dreams and of his purpose in them. He remembered he was searching for something. Searching for redemption.
Looking at that smile and those green eyes, he seemed to realize something. This was his redemption, right here, holding his hand.
He returned the smile and said, “We’ll see, Potter. We’ll see.”
We are accidents
Waiting
Waiting
To happen
The End