Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended
Warning: AU after HBP
Pairing: Harry X Draco, Harry X Ginny
Note: a lot of thanks to rockerchica826 who has been so kind and betaed this story, therefore making it far, far better than before
Knight in Shining Armor
Draco Malfoy never wanted to become a hero. Thanks, but no thanks. He left that particular occupation to Hufflepuffs, who tend to think with their hearts, and Gryffindors, who love to tread where angels fear to. While being a hero was usually rewarded with fame, beautiful princesses and glory, it came at the price of signing up for danger, risking one's own skin and forsaking comfort. As a Malfoy, he already had two out of the three rewards and Draco believed he could achieve glory one day; he didn't think becoming a hero was worth much.
His opinion did not change when he entered Hogwarts. Yes, he craved popularity and attention. Yes, he strove to win in everything. But, he gladly left the real hero's work for Potter. There was no way he would risk his life to slay a basilisk or something like that; not to mention the disaster that adventures would cause his immaculate hair and robes. He knew he was a vain and selfish coward, but he wasn't ashamed of those traits.
When he strove to bring Death Eaters to Hogwarts and assassinate Dumbledore, it was not to become a hero in the Dark Lord's camp. He did it to protect his family, pure and simple. Even when he defected from the Dark Lord, it was not because he realized the error of his way and wanted to defend equality and justice. It was merely survival, since his failure had caused the Dark Lord to administer him a long, tortuous punishment. Besides, it seemed like he would have better chance of saving his mother if he joined Potter's side.
Those were the same motivations that drove him to help Potter find the Horcruxes. And if he brewed Wolfsbane for Lupin every month, it was only because he didn't feel safe living under the same roof as a wild werewolf.
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"Did you find any way to help him?" He already knows the answer before the words leave his mouth. He can read it in their eyes.
"I am sorry, Draco. I have researched every book about trauma, but all the possible solutions they offered involve drugs or therapy. We all know that in this state he clearly can't stand therapy, and trying to drug him will only make it worse,"
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He used to imagine that one day he would meet and marry a beautiful, pureblood girl to help him continue the Malfoy line. Love wasn't a necessary requirement, but he hoped they would at least have an amiable relationship. He certainly never planned to fall in love with a skinny, spectacled, half-blood boy.
If someone asked him when he had started to feel that way, he wouldn't have been able to give an answer. It was like a busy day, when there are too many jobs to do and you can't spare the time to watch the clock or the window. The next thing you know, it's already night and you don't remember exactly when the dusk came.
However, if the question asked was when he realized he had fallen in love, Draco could describe the moment vividly. There were no fireworks and no trumpets. They were in the potions lab together. He was in the middle of making a healing potion to replenish their depleted supply, and Harry, for lack of a better job, was trying to help him. At one point Draco turned around to ask for the knife. Harry was standing in front of the only window in the room, the light behind framing him. He smiled and passed the knife and just like that Draco realized the facts of his life: he was a wizard, he was a Malfoy, and he was in love with Harry Potter.
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"Don't give up hope, mate. Nowadays, the healers make great improvement every day. I am sure they'll find a way to cure Harry,"
If someone had told him years ago that one day Ron Weasley would try to cheer him up, he would have owled St. Mungo's directly. Yet, there Weasley was, giving him a one arm hug.
"Yes, and I will continue my research as well. There must be a cure somewhere."
But Draco doesn't share their optimism.
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He and Harry had often imagined their life together. Most of these conversations began with "After the war is over".
"Have you thought where you want to live after all of this?"
They had been lying together in Harry's bed, which at that moment had often become Draco's also.
"I don't know. Maybe I will rebuild my parents' house in Godric's Hollow. I always wanted to live there. And you? Will you go back to the Manor?"
"I suppose. After all, it is my ancestors' house."
"Draco?" Harry moved closer to lay his head on Draco's chest.
"Hm?" he could detect the uncertainty in Harry's voice. He raised his hand to play with the messy nest that Harry called hair, hoping to alleviate whatever problem was walking around in his head.
"Do you think we can make it work? Our relationship, I mean?" Harry asked, purposely avoiding his lover's eyes. He knew how needy he sounded. He didn't want Draco to see how afraid he was of the answer.
"Why can't we? We are doing fine so far," the hand that was playing with Harry's hair stilled. Please, don't tell me he is having second thoughts.
"It is just that we even want to live in different places."
At times like this, Harry was forced to remember how different they were. When they hugged or kissed, it was hard to remember that they had spent six years hating each other and that Draco used to champion Voldemort, but all of those were still true.
Draco sighed in relief. His hand resumed its previous occupation again. Thank you. "It will be fine. I will spend half a year in Godric's Hollow and you can spend the rest of the year with me in the manor."
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"When I was a kid, I saw this picture of a house with dog. I thought it was nice."
After a while, Draco learned that Harry was inclined to say things he thought about, which usually had nothing to do with what they were doing at the moment.
"We can get a dog after the war," Draco replied, without stopping stirring his potion.
"But, don't you like cats better? I overheard you said it to Tonks the other day."
"It is okay. If we raise them together, they won't kill each other."
"Rather like us, don't you think?" asked Harry as he came up behind Draco and hugged him.
"Potter, how can you even think of comparing my splendid self with a cat? Although I can see the similarities between you and a dog, especially when you made those puppy eyes."
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Gradually, those conversations became rarer and rarer. The war became more and more vicious, and in the end, although they won, there was nothing of that Potter left.
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Draco glances to the bedroom, where Harry has barricaded himself.
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After the war ended, the wizarding world was in chaos. The light side won, but there were a high number of casualties on both sides. Children lost parents and lovers were separated. A lot of buildings were destroyed. People who had lived under fear and uncertainty for so long couldn't adjust to the newly established peace easily. There was distrust, both of their peers and the Ministry.
Then, people started to realize that this time, the horror really was over. Some people began to rebuild Diagon Alley, which had been destroyed during one of the attacks. Kingsley Shacklebolt was appointed the temporary Minister of Magic and he began the arduous and almost impossible task of cleaning the Ministry. Unfortunately, while the wizarding community slowly healed, the same thing could not be said for the person who had obtained this peace for them.
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"Harry, it was only a reporter. While I understand perfectly that you don't want your meal menu becoming a front page news, I don't think it justified hexing him until he has to stay in St. Mungo's for a week."
Draco tried to keep his temper in check despite the pounding headache he felt. Making Harry become more agitated would bring them nowhere, although at the time he doubted very much could be worse. It was only the fact that Harry was the "Defeater-of-Voldemort" that prevented them from facing the Wizengamot.
"You don't understand, Draco. He just pretended to be a reporter. I am sure he was one of the escaped Death Eaters. I can't forget those eyes I saw through the mask," Harry explained calmly.
Harry couldn't believe he would think that Draco was too trusting, then Draco said something like that and he was proven wrong. Just because the war was over didn't mean they would be safe. After all, Harry had killed Voldemort. It was only logical that his followers would bend on taking revenge.
"He is not, Harry. I swear. Don't you think that being who I am, I would know whether he is a Death Eater or not?"
Given that this was the fifth time he had used this argument to convince Harry, who had hexed four people after the first time he used those words, somehow he didn't think Harry would believe him. Not for the first time, Draco blamed the fact that he didn't know when to give up.
"But he could be a new recruit. After all, you can't know all of Voldemort's supporters, can you?"
That was silly of Draco. Granted, most of the Death Eaters in Voldemort's inner circle were his family and their friends, but surely Draco could not think that they were the entirety of Voldemort's followers.
"Look, just promise me you won't hex the next people who spy on us. We will Floo call Shacklebolt, or Tonks, and let them conduct the interrogation, okay?"
"I promise."
But Harry knew he would do it again. After all, since Draco seemed to have lost his instinct, he had to protect them both.
And Draco knew Harry would do it again. He already had four shining examples.
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The days are filled with paranoia rivaling those of Mad Eye's. Harry has built wards around their house and fireplace so strongly that not even Weasley and Granger can enter it without Harry or Draco permission beforehand. He scans every owl, even from the Weasleys, for all kinds of curses. Sometimes, he even puts veritaserum in their visitors' drinks.
It has only become worse since what the Prophet has dubbed "The Polyjuice Killings." A Death Eater sympathizer polyjuices himself into well known Order members to gain his victims' trust. Then, after he enters the unsuspecting victims' houses, he kills them. So far, he has killed five persons, including Luna Lovegood and Professor Sprout, one of them while masquerading as Draco.
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"Harry, love, this is me, Draco," He tried to appear as unthreatening as possible. He did not want to trigger Harry to curse him, since he could personally vouch for Harry's power and his amazing repertoire of curses.
"No, you forgot the hex you threw at me in the corridor during the second month of our third year. You must be the killer. I won't be fooled," Harry said, all the time keeping his wand trained on Draco.
"No Harry, listen, it is really me," answered Draco, exasperated. "We threw so many hexes at each other, love, how am I supposed to remember all of them?"
"Do you think you can trick me with that kind of cheap argument?"
Harry was undeterred. He knew his Draco. Did this fake one think he could fool Harry? His competitive Draco would not forget the hex, not after causing Harry so much pain with it, because Harry still could remember Draco's gloating face at that time.
"Ask me something else then, something that I have only told you."
Draco was desperate. If he couldn't convince Harry of his identity soon, one of them was bound to get hurt or worse. It was more likely to be him, given his opponent. For the hundredth time, he cursed both the idiot who had used his face and himself for somehow leaving something to be used in the polyjuice potion.
"You could have collected information about him first before you came here. In fact, I am sure you did."
Harry had read the news in the Prophet. Luna maybe would accept a familiar face simply because it was familiar, but he knew Professor Sprout would not. She had become one of the most valuable fighters in the Order. Having lived through two wars against Voldemort, she would surely exercise caution. Harry was convinced she must have asked some subtle questions that would guarantee the identity of his attacker was genuine.
At that moment, Draco really feared for his life. It seemed like nothing deterred Harry from his belief that Draco was an impostor.
"Give me veritaserum, then. You know nobody can lie under that."
That was maybe what had saved his life. It had taken a glass of water doctored with veritaserum and one full hour of questioning, but finally Harry believed that he was really Draco. He thanked fate that nobody ever succeeded in breaking veritaserum's power.
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Night times are the worst. It seems that Harry's dreams are full of bad memories. In the beginning, he had tried to sleep, only to scream into awakening every hour, and awaken Draco in the process. They tried using dreamless potion, but Harry's body seemed to have built up a resistance to it. He needed a more potent dose each time, which finally caused Draco to forbid him having any at all. He was afraid the potion would become more successful than Voldemort in killing Harry in the end.
But without potion, Harry is afraid of sleep. He forces himself to be awake, sometimes using pepper up potion. And when he finally can't stand it any longer, his sleep is never long nor peaceful.
In the other hand, lack of sleep enhances Harry's paranoia and his tendencies to blame himself for all the wrong in the world. It has become a routine for Draco to find Harry mopping around in the house, trapped into his own sense of inadequacy and guilt. But the deaths do not only visit Harry's waking thought, they also invade his dreams, bringing with them accusations and questions as to why Harry had not saved them.
Once, Draco would have sneered at what he dubbed as Harry's "hero complex." Now he just holds Harry, wishing with all his might that he has a power to vanquish nightmares, just like he can do to real people.
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Draco found the book which contained the solution by accident. Lately, taking care of Harry has become his full time job. He can't go out, since he doesn't believe Harry won't kill someone eventually if he is left by himself. He can't invite anybody to come except when Harry is asleep, which rarely happens, since Harry's paranoia makes him suspect even his friends. So, whenever he has a spare time, Draco cleans.
When they had moved to the newly rebuilt Godric's Hollow, they brought things both from Grimmauld Place and the Manor. Most of these things were put in their new places, but there were a few boxes left, mainly odds and ends.
It's not a book about healing. Quite contrary, it is a book about controlling someone despite his will and knowledge. The only thing that made Draco open it was it has fell from the box when he carried it to the library. Yet, all the same, it has made him realize that the solution was in front of their very eyes all that time.
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That night, he can't sleep. On one hand, he loves Harry. The life that Harry has is not a life. Harry has been selfless for so long, living up to everybody's expectations. He deserves better.
On the other hand, he can't lose Harry. He didn't used to believe he would become a sentimental fool, but become that person he has. Harry has made him see everything from another point of view. He has become so used to using the word we instead of I. Every time he imagines his future, be it ten, twenty, or even hundred years later, Harry is always a part of it.
Yet, if he really loves Harry, shouldn't he think about Harry first?
But he is a Malfoy and a Malfoy by definition is selfish and cowardly.
He turns around. Tomorrow. Tomorrow Granger and Weasley will come bearing news. He won't make any decision. Yet.
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Draco remembers the Harry he hated at Hogwarts, the one who always believed in goodness, the paragon of Griffindor values. He remembers the Harry who, although not fully trusting him, opened the door of Grimmauld Place for him. He remembers the Harry who fell in love with an ex-Death Eater and befriended a werewolf. Above all, he remembers the Harry who smiled with joyful abandon.
Then, he remembers the Harry who is sleeping above, tossing and turning in nightmare, only to wake into the world without trust.
Draco has made his decision.
"I think I know the cure"
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It's New Year's Eve, and there is celebration everywhere. People gather to remember those that are no longer with them, and make wishes for the coming year. While not completely healed, the wizarding world is well on their way to it.
Even Draco has to admit, the Weasley have hosted a successful party. The Burrow's backyard has been decorated with ribbons and lanterns. In the sky, there is an endless show of fireworks, courtesy of the twins. Yet Draco's attention is on neither of those things.
There, dancing in the middle of the lawn is Harry Potter. He is smiling and laughing with every turn and twist. In his arms, looking up to him with besotted eyes, is Ginny Weasley. Every now and then, Harry presses a tender kiss to her lips.
"Draco, I'm sorry…"
Hermione doesn't know what she should say. She found out just before the party about it herself. While she can understand Harry's reasoning, she can also imagine Draco's feelings right then.
"Don't. I knew before I suggested the cure to you that there was a possibility he would fall in love with someone else," Draco says hoping his voice doesn't tremble.
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"The war is the root of Harry's problem. Harry has faced too many bad things before, but the war is what broke him. If he doesn't remember any of the fight, the betrayal, and the horror, he will revert back to the Harry that we knew before."
"Are you suggesting…" Hermione's voice trailed uncertainly.
"Yes. I can divert his attention while you stun him. After that, I will use legillimency to search the exact range of memories and obliviate them."
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Yes, he understood that if they obliviated all of Harry's memories about the war, Harry would not remember the Draco that was his lover. He would only remember a hated rival. He realized there was no guarantee that Harry would be interested in him again.
Still, a part of him had retained hope that somehow Harry would remember their love. He had also entertained the hope that somehow, he would be able to make Harry love him again.
"I am still sorry. I know how much he means to you."
He must have been failing to hide the tremble, because now she is hugging him.
"I am sorry, and thank you, thank you for returning the Harry we knew, despite what it did to you."
"As if I had choice," Draco says, really hoping there is something he can blame for the moisture in his eyes.
"You did"
Yes, he had had a choice. And he chose to love Harry Potter.
Draco always knew being a hero hurt.
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