Illusions
A/N: Not too sure about this story - but it's been written for months, and I've revised it too many times, so I'm just going to have to call it good. Enjoy!
Darkness greeted Draco's eyes as they flew open, his breath was short and desperate. The scenes of the dream flew through his mind; the pain, the blood, Harry dead in his arms, the Dark Lord victorious. Instinct made Draco roll to the left side of the bed, seeking warmth from his lover. But there was a cold pile of blankets.
"Harry?" Draco whispered, his voice shaky. There was no response. His eyes widened, and his heart rate picked up. "Harry?" He asked again, his voice hitched up an octave. Silence was the only thing that meet his voice again. A thrilling hum rushed through his veins, and Draco shot up. The bed sheets tangled around him even more as he tried to kick them off of him. With a thud he feel to the floor, but the adrenaline in him didn't allow him to feel the fall. He shot off of the floor and ran out of their room. Somehow the frantic man made it down the stars without skidding and falling on his head.
His socked feet skidded on the wooden floor and his arms pinwheeled to try to stay upright. "Fuck," he spat out when his hand collided with the corner that he was trying to round. "Ow, ow, damn it," he muttered, pulling his hand into his chest, but that didn't stop him from continuing his sprint down the hallway.
The relative silence was shattered by the sound of glass of the floor.
"Lumos," Draco muttered, holding his hands out in front of him. His hip was throbbing from where he hit the shelf that had stopped his sliding motion. "Fuck," Draco's voice rose in volume, and in the amount of annoyance that was in it. The glass that was spread out before him was the remains of a family heirloom that his mother had given him, no doubt it was priceless. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Draco's voice broke, the words were slowly turning into sobs. Harry had no doubt left him, this stupid vase was broken, and he was alone.
Draco fell to his knees. He didn't feel the bits of glass jabbing into his skin, nor did he particularly care. The blood was oozing from the wounds and tears were falling from Draco's face.
"Why, why do I always fuck things up?" he whispered into the darkness. There was no answer. Draco dropped his head into his hands and let out a sob. He stayed in the position for a long time, the tears, the blood, the pitch black of the house.
Harry climbed the steps up to the suite, the elevator was out of commission, again. He would have thought that living in an expensive flat would mean the elevator worked nine times out of ten, but he was wrong, it only seemed to work half of the time, and even then it was pretty sketchy. But he didn't mind tonight. He had needed some air in the middle of the night, so he had left Draco to take a walk in the streets of London, even though it was currently three in the morning.
He didn't do it often, the walking in the night-time, but there was a particularly awful nightmare, a small fight with Draco last night, and the need to be alone. That was the equation that lead him to climbing the stair with just the hard yellow light of the bare overhead bulb to light his path. He could only hope that Draco hadn't woken up yet. Draco was over dramatic, and the more he thought about it Draco was probably an emotional wreck from their argument. But Harry shook his head, Draco never woke up before nine, unless, of course, he had to, and today was not one of those days. Today was supposed to be a nice day, they were supposed to spend the day together, but Harry wasn't exactly sure if that was going to happen now.
He shrugged off his worry as he stood in front of their door. Harry sighed as he fished through his coat pocket, looking for the key. He looked up at the number on their door, 29, it was home, and he was never going to leave.
Draco heard the lock click through a haze. He was still sitting on the ground with his face in his hands, as he had been for the last five minutes. The click brought him out of his daze. He pulled his tear stained face out of his hands and looked up at the door. It swung open to reveal a figure that Draco knew so well.
The black silhouette against the harsh light was cut clean. The ruffled hair, the unzipped jacket, the skinny legs and thin body.
"Harry?" he croaked, his voice raw from the tears.
"Draco? What are you doing?" Harry's voice sounded smooth, and concerned.
"W-what are you doing here?"
"I went for a walk," Harry said, closing the door behind him and locking it. He cast a nonverbal lumos spell. The ball of light floated in between the two. "Are you alright?" he asked, hurrying over to Draco.
"Y-you went for - for a walk?" Draco stumbled over his words. His eyes were turned up to Harry, who was beginning to kneel down next to him.
"Yeah, I'm sorry if I woke you, I didn't want to disturb you, I just needed to think th-"
"A walk?!" Draco was smiling brilliantly now, Harry hadn't left him, not at all.
"Yeah…" Harry trailed off looking at Draco curiously, his eyebrows scrunched together.
Draco's smile was splitting his face, he was sure of it. He threw his arms around Harry's neck and pulled him close. He rested his head in the crook of Harry's shoulder and buried his nose into his thick wind blown hair. Sure enough, Harry smelled like the crisp fall air that was about London this time of year. He smelled of the outside, of the city, he smelled so real, that Draco knew this wasn't a dream at all.
"I thought you left me," Draco muttered into Harry's neck.
"Draco," Harry sounded appalled. "We argued about adopting a boy or a girl-"
"And I thought you were mad because we couldn't decide, and...and-" Draco cut off with a long, shaky inhale.
Harry ran his hand up and down Draco's back. "Shhh," he whispered, rocking Draco's racking body. "Draco, I love you too much to leave you," Harry said fondly.
"I just. I've been, you know, abandoned by the people who...act like they love me," Draco muttered, his face still hidden in Harry's shoulder. Harry cradled Draco closer to him, he didn't have anything to say so the two stayed in silence as Harry's lumos spelled flickered out, and the room was pitched into darkness.
"Hey," Harry said after holding Draco close to him for what felt like hours. His knees were cramping underneath him, and he was uncomfortable in his position. He put his hands on Draco's shoulder and pulled him away from his body. "How 'bout we go get ourselves some breakfast?" Harry suggested, looking to where Draco's eyes glittered in the dim light of the moon.
"It's almost four in the bloody morning," Draco grumbled.
"Mhm," Harry nodded and helped Draco to stand up. " And there are plenty of little breakfast shops around that are open at this time of day."
Draco was about to agree when he unfolded his legs from underneath him, and he could feel the glass in his shins, a sharp inhale alerted Harry the Draco wasn't ok.
"Draco?" Harry asked, his voice full of worry. "Are you alright?"
"I have some glass in my leg."
"What?"
"There's glass in my leg, Potter," Draco snarled, he could feel the hot blood running down his cold leg, and could feel just how deep the glass had entered in.
"Lumos." Harry bent down to examine Draco's leg. "What the hell did you do?" he asked, looking at Draco's torn flannel pajama pants, he could see the blood staining the gray color.
"I knocked over a present from mother," Draco sounded like a dejected child.
"Was it something we should have valued?" Harry asked. His hand found the edge of Draco's pants and pushed it above his knee cap.
"Yeah," Draco muttered.
"We can just reparo it, it'll be fine," Harry assured him as his nimble fingers began to pick out the chunks of glass that had embedded themselves in his boyfriend's leg.
"But we can't, what made it priceless was the delicate magic inside of it, and now it's dissipated now that the glass is broken."
"Draco, you really can't be that upset, can you?" Harry asked and looked up to Draco. The blonde's head was hung low so that his hair was covering his eyes. Harry took his wand out of his coat pocket and muttered a few charms so that one of Draco's legs was all fixed up.
"I'm not really, but my mother won't be too thrilled."
"If I had it my way your mother would not put another foot inside of our house," Harry muttered darkly, remembering the last time that Narcissa Malfoy had come in. She hadn't known the boys were dating and was trying to set Draco up with a date, dissing Harry whenever she thought he was out of range, and commenting on how Draco really wasn't living up to their pureblood standards.
"I know," Draco said softly, ruffling Harry's hair. The dark haired boy had started on Draco's other leg now. His fingers pinched a piece of glass that was sticking out of Draco's knee, and yanked. Draco howled and tightened his grip on Harry's hair. "Fuck," he said, jerking as Harry ripped another piece of glass out of his skin.
"Draco," Harry warned, "keep still, it'll go faster."
"Can't you just accio them all out, then it'll be done a hell of alot faster."
"Yeah?" Harry asked, looking up at Draco while holding his wand. Draco just grunted in response. "Accio," Harry said with authority. Draco wailed. There was a lot more glass in this leg than the other, and he wasn't expecting all of the pain that hit him.
"I'm sorry, oh god, I'm sorry," Harry apologised over and over. He hated seeing anyone in pain, let alone someone that he loved.
"I'm good," Draco said and took a deep breath. "I'm ok, the pain is gone now Harry, it doesn't hurt, you can bandage me up now." Harry was staring up at Draco for a moment before his words hit him.
"Oh, yeah," Harry brandished his wand and the wounds were clean and white bandages wrapped around his leg.
"Thanks," Draco said, smoothing out Harry's hair.
"You up for breakfast?" Harry asked, standing up.
"Yeah, I suppose, I'm awake now."
"Than go get dressed."
"Can't you-"
"No, otherwise the only place we'll go is into our room, and we won't come out again for a long time," Harry said. Draco sighed, that was his point, but apparently Harry was set on breakfast at four in the morning.
"Where are we going?" Draco asked when he came out of their room. He had on jeans and an old ratty Ramones T-shirt.
"To breakfast," Harry smiled and tossed Draco a jacket.
"Where?"
"In London," Harry said cheekily. Draco groaned but followed Harry out of their flat and down to the street in silence.
"You're doing what you want us to do, so does that mean that we can adopt a girl?" Draco asked, catching Harry's hand in his.
"Really?" Harry asked, looking over to the blonde at his side a dark eyebrow raised. Draco shrugged.
"What if we just adopt a boy and a girl right off the bat, and this fight will be done?"
"But, is that a good idea? I mean, I'm not going to make a very good parent, and now you're suggesting take on two kids, I mean, isn't that a bit much?"
"You'll be a fine parent Draco," Harry said, squeezing his hand and looking fondly at the boy at his side.
"But, getting one kid is a big enough change, now we want two?" Draco asked.
"I'm kidding, really, if you don't think that we can handle two then you're probably right in that regard," Harry said, he really didn't want to make Draco mad now.
"Now you listen to me," Draco groaned dramatically.
"Here," Harry said, jerking Draco's hand to the right to where a soft glow was coming from a bakery. Harry pushed open the door and the bell on top tinkled lightly. He turned his head and smiled at Draco.
"I've never seen this place before," Draco said, looking around to the small tables and the stage in the corner where an abandoned guitar sat.
"You just don't look hard enough," Harry said and pulled him up to the counter where they were supposed to order.
"Good morning gentlemen," a university aged girl appeared from the back. "Welcome to Rose's Bakery, may I get you anything," she said with entirely too much pep for four in the morning. Draco eyed the girl and slid his hand out of Harry's, he still wasn't entirely comfortable flaunting his and Harry's love to the world.
"We'll be a minute," Harry said smiling at the blonde girl. He was scanning the overhead menu for something that looked appetizing.
"I'll just have black coffee," Draco said speaking up, he truly wasn't that hungry. Harry gave him a look.
"Ok, is that all?" she asked, ringing up his order.
"We're together," Harry interrupted quickly. "I'll have the blueberry pancakes, and...a bowl of fruit with the American omelette."
"Harry," Draco hissed. He had definitely ordered Draco's and his own favorite breakfast foods.
"What? It wouldn't be proper if you didn't eat your share of food as well," Harry said, pulling out money to pay the girl.
"It'll be out in a moment," she said with a chipper smile. The boys grabbed a table near the back of the shop.
"Harry, you didn't have to waste money on me, I'm really not hungry," Draco said sliding into the booth opposite Harry.
"Once you have your food in front of you you'll be hungry, and it's not a waste of money if I spend it on you," Harry said smiling at Draco. "Really," he added seeing Draco's doubting expression.
"Harry, why are we at breakfast at this time of the morning?" Draco asked, picking at a speck on the table.
"I wanted to talk to you," Harry admitted after a moment of hesitation. "First off, why did you wake up this morning, you never wake up in the middle of the night?"
"You weren't there," Draco said. Harry noticed he said it a little too quickly to be telling the truth, that was what he had rehearsed.
"Draco Malfoy, I am a trained auror, don't you even try to lie to me," he warned, his gaze piercing Draco's hooded eyes. When Draco didn't answer Harry sighed, and leaned back in his chair. "The nightmares are back aren't they," he asked quieter, and with less force. Draco nodded glumly.
"Why didn't you tell me," Harry groaned, he lay his face in his hands.
"I knew you'd react like this," Draco said, looking up at Harry, whose eyes were peeking out through his fingers. "And the thing is they really aren't as bad as you make them out to be. I can deal with them."
"Like hell they're not what I make them out to be," Harry snapped. "I've been diagnosed with PTSD, and I haven't seen, or felt the torture that you endured being with Voldemort for a year."
"But it doesn't work like that. You're are recurring and traumatic, mine are few and far between-"
"Says the man who's woken up five times in the past month. You, my dear, are a mind healer-" Harry cut off as the girl who took their orders came out with their food.
"Here's the coffee, black, for you," she said putting down the cup in front of Draco. "And your pancakes and omelette for you," she said setting down the two meals in front of Harry.
Harry gave the girl a smile, "thank you," he said with a note of finality in his voice.
"I'll be right up front if you need anything, enjoy," she said, getting Harry's hint, and left the two in silence.
"How the hell is anyone that chipper at," he looked at his watch, "four thirty in the morning?"
"Here," Harry pushed the plate of pancakes in front of Draco and slid the fruit between them. Harry had been right, Draco hated to admit, but now with the food in front of him smelling delicious his stomach was starting to growl. Harry smirked in Draco's direction when he heard the noises his stomach was making.
"Shut up," Draco muttered, spearing a piece of pineapple from the bowl between them.
"Anyways," Harry said, cutting into his food. "You," he waved his fork, with a bit of egg and peppers on it, at Draco, "Are a mind healer, the best one, you helped me, you helped nearly everyone recover from that war. So why don't you take some of your own advice. It would make me feel a lot better Draco," Harry paused and put a piece of food in his mouth that he chewed on thoughtfully. "You don't sleep enough. I mean, you usually stay asleep through the night, but it's always a late bedtime."
"I sleep fine," Draco muttered, cutting a piece of his pancake and soaking it in the maple syrup.
"Draco," Harry whined with food in his mouth.
"Harry, no, listen to me," Draco cut him off with his stern voice. "People can go through a war and not come out with PTSD. I was one of those kinds of people. My mind," he gestured with his fork to his face "has not changed, has not been altered, like yours. Your hippocampus and amygdala were stuck on these events, mine weren't. There is a difference between what you were going through and what I have. I sometimes have a memory that pops up in my brain while I'm sleeping, and then my amygdala works overtime once in awhile and I have nightmares. But the functions aren't decapitated in my brain like they were in yours. There is a difference, and I don't need a mind healer," with a note of finality he popped a piece of pancake in his mouth.
"I didn't understand most of what you were saying, with all of your brainy comments and words in it. But what I understand is that you need to go to therapy," Harry said with a smile. Draco sputtered.
"I did not," he said. "I said nothing like that. How did you get that from what I just said?" Draco's eyes were wide, and his shoulders had shrugged up to his ears.
"Yeah, you made me go to therapy, and that's what I heard a lot of," Harry said. Draco stared at him. "Draco, will you try it? I'll go with you."
"Harry," Draco whined. Draco closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the bench behind him. "I'm not going to a stupid therapy session-"
"Then will you at least talk to me?" Harry raised his voice. Draco winced, his voice was raw and full of emotion. "You just brush me off when I ask, and you don't talk to me. I know that you don't like talking about your feelings, but Draco, I'm your boyfriend. We've been through the media, hell Rita Skeeter fucked our lives over, and you still can't open up to me? We've battled a lot together, we know that we want to continue with this, we're looking at adopting a kid, I just want you to talk to me, that's it." Harry looked flushed from his outburst, but had enough tact to look slightly ashamed but what he had said.
"That's what you want?" Draco asked, he knew that at this point he should be looking up at Harry but he was too busy staring at his food.
"Draco," Harry's voice was gentle. He reached across the table and lifted Draco's chin up, "Dray, please look at me." Draco convinced himself that it was only because of how pitiful Harry sounded that he looked up to Harry. Harry's eyes were piercing into him, "what are your nightmares about?"
Draco was fully prepared to tell him nothing, but Harry had a way with these puppy dog eyes that Draco never failed to fall for. "There's a lot of blood...and...pain - it's the cruciatus curse a thousand times worse. V-voldemort is there. And you are too, but I'm always too late to...save...you. You die in my arms, or by his hand. And all I can do is to watch," Draco whispered.
"Draco," Harry sighed back. He lowered his head and moved his hand to cup Draco' cheek.
"See, they aren't the same from what you went through," Draco said, looking at the top of Harry's head.
"They aren't," Harry agreed. "They're worse. I couldn't imagine watching you...die...every night in my sleep."
"Then when I got up I th-thought you had l-left me" he cleared his throat, "and I thought you had left me, because I'm...a Malfoy, and I did god awful things in the past and all your friends hate me, and that you might have finally grown enough sense to see that they're right," Draco struggled to get the words out of his mouth.
Harry stayed silent, still looking down at the table. "Draco," he said heavily after a minute of silence. "I love you. I love you despite all of things you were made to do in the war, and more importantly I forgive you for all of it. I don't give a damn that you are a Malfoy, christ I knew what I was getting myself into, an overdramatic family that is obsessed with being rich and famous. Really Draco?" Harry asked looking up at him. "You think I would leave you because of material things that people say about you? My love for you runs much deeper than the actions that make you who you are, you've let me see the real Draco Malfoy, under all of that bravado you are caring, loving, and you look out for those that you love."
"I just, how can you be that forgiving?"
"You saved my life."
"Then you saved mine. More than once."
"We were both blinded by what we were told. You were taught that being pureblood is the only thing that matters, and that being in any other house besides Slytherin was bad. Me being in Gryffindor only made it worse, because we were both told that Slytherins and Gryffindors were supposed to be enemies. I was told that blood doesn't matter, and if it did matter to someone then they were these elitist and thought that everything was theirs to take. And I grew up with those kind of people, and I hated them. Then when you were sorted into Slytherin, Ron told me that all Slytherins were bad. We followed the stereotypes and never tried to see past them. That's why we hated each other, because then everything we saw the other person do we would fit it to the ideas we had in our minds already. Yeah, we could have been nicer to each other, but the thing is that this has been happening for centuries, and we are some of the only people to look outside of the stereotypes and try to find that person underneath the shell." Silence reigned between them, Draco was mulling over Harry's words, and Harry was hoping that the words had come out in the right order to make sense.
"I wholeheartedly agree," Draco finally said, he cut up some more of his pancake and swirled it around in his syrup before continuing. "But I'm not entirely convinced that you even answered my question."
Harry sighed, "I answered your question before you even asked it, I love you. That's how I've forgiven you, it's how I will always forgive you."
Draco smiled. That's all he wanted to hear, was that Harry loved him, he could say it a hundred times and Draco would still want to hear him say it again and again. "I love you too."
"That's something that waitress over there won't want to hear," Harry said with a possessive smirk.
"Huh," Draco's face twisted in confusion.
"Look on your napkin," Harry said, he was trying to hold in laughter. Draco looked at his napkin that had been sitting under his cup of coffee the whole time. Sure enough there was a black smudge that had seeped through from the other side of the napkin. Draco picked up his cup and turned the napkin over. He sputtered, there was a phone number, a name and a winky face written in pen.
"I'm gay. Were we not obvious?" Draco asked, looking up at Harry who had a crooked smile on his face.
"We will be," Harry whispered and caught the collar of Draco's shirt and pulled him to his lips. Draco smiled against the lips of the man he loved and let out a small laugh when he heard the waitress gasp.