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[mudbloodhater]

[the Dreamberry is propped up against something, offering a view of Draco's side. It's an interesting sort of angle - he's clearly set it up purposefully, but there's something not quite right about the angle. He sits at a grand piano in what looks to be the foyer of Malfoy Manor, fingers poised over the keys before he begins to play a concerto

Comments

[ Action ] This is going to hurt like hell ;A;

[sonuvasnitch]

[ Harry had woken up on Tuesday morning feeling far better than he had since he first got sick. Really the feeling was akin only to a bad cold, however there was a feeling far more weighty than any pathogen that was lying across Harry's well being.

[ He had killed Draco.

[ Harry had woken up and remembered every moment that had transpired from his sickness. The moment that he remembered most clearly was firing that final spell. He hadn't moved from his spot on the hospital bed since he woke up and was praying that it had all been a horrible nightmare, but he knew better. When he saw Draco's post the feeling only deepened in his stomach, and he knew what he needed to do. He apparated from the hospital to his house and grabbed a few things before apparating with items in hand to Draco's room.

[ He pulled the invisibility cloak over his frame and crept out till he reached Draco in the foyer. ]

Draco...

[ Action ] Understatement of the century ;A;

[mudbloodhater]

[he jumps when he hears his name, turning to look but knowing he won't see anything. Instead, his eyes remain glazed, aimed at the edge of the piano as he turns just enough to listen carefully for footsteps.

[His hand moves to his wand subtly.]

What?

[ Action ]

[sonuvasnitch]

[ Harry notices the movement, he's still paranoid after all just not as badly, but he says nothing. If Draco wanted to hex him right then and there he probably deserved it. Correction he did deserve it. ]

Can I talk to you? Somewhere private.

[ Action ]

[mudbloodhater]

[it takes him a moment, but he recognises the voice. His boyfriend's voice. Well...

[He slowly rises from the piano stool, reaching out to where he knows he set the Dreamberry, and slowly running his fingers along the varnished edge until he finds it. Then into the pocket it goes as he slowly rounds the bench and begins slowly making his way out of the foyer - he knows the library isn't too far from there, that it's currently vacant. That he can lock the door and pretend he just wants to read.

[What a laugh.

[With one hand outstretched halfway to keep him from running into anything, he walks, expecting Harry to follow.]

[ Action ]

[sonuvasnitch]

[ Harry stares as he watches Draco walk. He's never known anyone to lose a sense once they return from the dead, so Draco's actions are both troubling and terrifying to Harry. He follows close behind as silent, and as invisible as a ghost. ]

[ Action ]

[mudbloodhater]

[though he could tell that Harry was watching him, he didn't make anything of it; it didn't feel like a hateful stare. He finds the door, fumbling for the knob before throwing it open and stepping in.

[His voice is a whisper:] Let me know when you're in.

[ Action ]

[sonuvasnitch]

[ Harry looks around the library as if to make sure it isn't some sort of set up. Thankfully when no one is there he calms down a bit. ]

I'm in.

[ Action ]

[mudbloodhater]

[he closes the door behind them both, locking it with a click - the bolt is heavy, intended to keep things out.]

...talk.

[leaning against the door, it's unclear as to whether or not he's exasperated or angry or just tired of everything. Or perhaps he just sees the writing on the wall. Draco's always been very good at hiding his emotions, and this moment is no different.]

[ Action ]

[sonuvasnitch]

[ Harry pulls off the cloak and points his wand at the door. ]

Muffliato.

[ He turns to look at Draco then. The frown deepens on his face and as if sensing what must be wrong, but not daring to believe it without proof he waves his hand slowly in front of Draco's face. ]

[ Action ]

[mudbloodhater]

[sure enough, Draco gives no sign of having seen anything. He feels the breeze against his face, and a frown twitches to his brow. The first flash of what might be annoyance]

Are you waving your hand in front of my face?

[ Action ]

[sonuvasnitch]

Why do you have to ask?

[ Harry sounds slightly panicked when he asks the question. Oh Merlin what had he done? ]

[ Action ]

[mudbloodhater]

[finally, Draco stares seemingly right at Harry - if he looks closely though, the stare is through him instead. He gives an exasperated sigh, his mouth pursing into a line as he resists the urge to just cry or punch a wall.]

Why do you think, Harry?

[ Action ]

[sonuvasnitch]

I--[ Harry doesn't know what to say. It's obvious isn't it? Was this permanent? Harry had no idea but he silently prayed to whatever deity would listen that it wasn't. ]

Draco, I-I'm sorry.

[ Action ]

[mudbloodhater]

[he leans more heavily against the door of the library then, letting his head tip back against it. There are so many things he now thinks Harry needs to be sorry for, and Draco's sudden blindness - however that worked; he hadn't thought about it - was the least of those things.

[A tiny sob wells in his chest, catching in his throat to make a soft noise, and he doesn't address the apology. He remembers the spell now - remembers the first time it was used on him clearly, even though he didn't experience it. It hurts.]

[ Action ]

[sonuvasnitch]

Draco... [ Harry takes a few quick steps towards his boyfriend and holds out a hand to touch the blond's cheek. He stops short however and slowly withdraws his hand.

[ Who was he kidding? What right did he have to offer comfort to Draco, much less touch him? It hurts to think what he did, even more so that he hadn't been able to stop himself from doing it. He was lucky in a very twisted sense that Draco was the only real casualty. What if someone else had been hurt too? ]

[ Action ]

[mudbloodhater]

[it was a good thing that Draco couldn't see, too; the sheer fact that Harry was trying to touch him would have warranted some level of violence. Instead, the blond remains against the door, hands clenched into fists against it as if he tried to cling to it for grounding.

[When he speaks, his voice is already bordering on breaking with unshed tears; it's all he can do to keep from stuttering:]

I can't do this, Harry.