Feed the Birds
By sa1boy

Beta: Sevfan and His Sen

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all characters are the property of JK Rowling.

"Avada Ke…"

"No you don't, arsehole! Expelliarmus."

"Ah… Young Master Malfoy. I was not aware you had aligned yourself to Potter. You hope to kill me, do you?"

Draco Malfoy, in what could only be called a surprise attack, had managed successfully to disarm the Dark Lord and halt his attempt at firing the Killing Curse at Harry Potter.

The final battle was upon Hogwarts, and Death Eaters had managed - with the help of some of the darkest magic Dumbledore had seen - to overrun the whole building, looking for easy victims. Fortunately, due to the brave efforts of Snape and other Order spies, they found that they were out of luck. Word had been sent out that an attack was imminent, allowing enough time for the Headmaster to send all the students, save a few members of the DA, into the forbidden forest to hide. Draco had stayed behind; he couldn't face the thought of Harry Potter battling on his own, and knew that he would face death himself before allowing Harry to die at the hands of a mad man. More importantly, he could not face the possibility that he would never get a chance to let Potter know that he was interested in him. Draco had, for such a long time, been in love with the Boy Who Lived, and now, seeing Voldemort about to finish Harry off, he had to act.

Draco crept up on the battle in the central courtyard of Hogwarts. Voldemort, much to Draco's consternation, wasn't holding his minions off in the fight with Potter. He was actively encouraging their participation. It was obvious that Harry was just too strong for him. The only chance that Voldemort had for victory was for him to cheat. So much for 'honour amongst wizards' while duelling, Draco thought.

Voldemort had allowed his Death Eaters to attack Potter from all sides, each firing indiscriminate spells and hexes at him. Harry had erected an energy shield around himself that, up to this point, had held out. But when one hex got through, it was quickly followed by another, and then another. It was only by Harry's sheer power that he held them off for so long. When it finally came down to just Voldemort and Harry remaining, the young wizard was too weak to fight. Voldemort started to cast the Killing Curse. Thankfully for Harry, Draco was on hand to disarm Voldemort and save his life.

"No, just disarm you. I am not strong enough to kill you, but I am strong enough to stop you killing him," Draco spat in contempt at the Dark Lord.

Advancing, he kept his wand trained on Voldemort's chest at all times. Voldemort's reaction was one that Draco did not expect. He laughed that evil blood-curdling laugh that said he had more tricks up his sleeve. A wandless Cruciatus Curse flew fast enough that Draco dropped his own wand. The Dark Lord summoned the errant wand, and continued to cast the Unforgivable with both his and Draco's. Some of the curses hit their mark, and the pain that filled Draco's entire body was unbearable. He had experienced the Cruciatus Curse before, but never to such an extreme extent. He looked over to where Harry lay on the floor, ready to say 'I love you' for the first and last time before Voldemort forced all life out him. The effort needed whilst under Crucio was more than Draco had ever used in his life before. Then the pain he felt suddenly stopped as he saw Harry grab the material in front of Voldemort's heart and scream.

"Die!"

Draco could have sworn that there was electricity flowing all around Harry and into Voldemort. Harry started to glow, the reserves of his magic gathering around his body in a visible storm of power. The pressure grew to an almost unbearable level before Voldemort exploded, the shock wave knocking Draco unconscious.

The Dark Lord was defeated. Draco was left in a coma.

Harry spent the next four weeks at Draco's side, never leaving it, apart from meal or toilet breaks. In that time, Harry realised that the sacrifice that Draco had made was one he would gladly have made himself. From the first day he sat holding Draco's hand, Harry knew that if his saviour ever woke up, he would do all that he could to make Draco happy.

Harry talked to Draco as if he were awake, filling him in on all the latest Quidditch news, and the on/off romance of Ron and Hermione. That particular information, Harry would swear, made Draco's nose scrunch, just a little.

When Harry rose from the chair and went brush a hair off Draco's beautiful face, he noticed that Draco's mouth had formed a smile. He leant in and pressed a kiss to it, but quickly pulled away when the door to the room started to open. In walked Hermione and Ron with some very bad news.

The Ministry of Magic had had a field day. Despite the protestations of the saviour of the wizarding world, Draco Malfoy's assets were frozen. Malfoy manor had been sealed and Draco was now not only stuck in a coma at St. Mungo's hospital, but also penniless.

"He won't even have enough to pay for the hospital fees, Harry," Hermione said in a low whisper, scared that her words would upset Draco.

"Draco will want for nothing, I assure you. Hermione, can you go and get the mediwitch please? I think Draco would be better off at home."

Not even Hermione thought that Harry's idea was any good. But he was resolute, and a stubborn Harry Potter was something nobody dared to stand against.

"You must agree to one condition, Mr. Potter. At the first sign of consciousness, you will alert me and I will come immediately."

"Yes, Madam. I promise." Harry was given all the nutrient potions that Draco would need during the course of his slow recovery, and with the help of Ron and Hermione, transported Draco to number twelve Grimmauld Place.

Ron and Hermione tried on several occasions to broach the subject of what Harry's true intentions towards Draco were, but Harry gave the only excuse he felt was needed: that he wanted to care for Draco himself. When they looked at him with something less than full acceptance, Harry simply intoned,

"I'm all he has."

The next few days followed the same sort of pattern as they had at the hospital. Harry would sit with Draco, administer the fluids that the mediwitch had prescribed, and carry out the vital tests that were required to see if Draco's condition had changed in any way. Harry was more grateful to his friends than he realised at this time. Their quiet, sympathetic support allowed Harry the freedom to discover himself, as well as his deep rooted affection for the boy in the bed at his side.

"He looks nearly normal like that," Ron commented early that afternoon, when he entered the room with a sandwich and a cup of steaming hot tea. Harry smiled, nodding slightly in agreement as he accepted Ron's offerings. It seemed funny that the beautiful blond, lying peacefully only feet away, had been the bane of his existence for his entire school life.

"He doesn't look so tough like this. Looks almost like a child if you ask me."

"I bet he would hex us both into next week if he could hear you, Ron. But I would gladly have him back the way he was. Seeing him like this is just wrong. He isn't the lie-down-and-take-it type."

Ron gave his friend a consoling squeeze of the shoulder as he admitted rather hesitantly,

"I'll be glad to see the snarky ferret return to his old self too, Harry, but don't you dare tell him." Harry giggled slightly at this but continued as he had done for the past two days. He sat next to Draco, holding his hand, and talked to him.

"Well, Draco, it's just you and me again. I know that I said yesterday that I would not bore you to death by telling you stupid things about my past. I thought instead I would tell you about the things that I really like doing. You never know, maybe we could do some of them together when you wake up. I would love that.

"I think one of the things I would love to show you - and you would probably think it really silly - is going to the park and playing Frisbee with the birds. Oh, you probably don't actually know what a Frisbee is! It's a flat disc that you can throw long distances. Muggles play with them, sometimes in teams, and sometimes they throw them for their pets. I don't actually have one myself. I mean, birds wouldn't fetch it back like, say, a dog. They would probably just fly away if you chucked a piece of plastic at them.

"No, I use square slices of bread. I normally clear out the kitchen of whatever they have, and pop across the road to the park. It is lovely there this time of year - the sun shines off the water, and you can sometimes see the fish fighting for what crumbs have been scattered across the surface of the lake. It is wonderful to hear the sounds of children giggling when they see that their offerings are attracting the ducks and swans that frequent the water. Sometimes, I just sit and watch them; overfed fowl, spoiled rotten by the locals and visitors. I often wonder whether they have ever had to go hungry, you know, really hungry, like the seagulls.

"They wade just out of snapping range of the other birds. Seagulls aren't as cute as the ducks, or as graceful as the swans. The pariah of the inland waterways, a man said once. I disagree. I like the seagulls. They have a unique beauty that is all their own, just like you. Although I'd wager that you couldn't make as much noise when you are hungry. And Merlin, they do get hungry! I used to get really upset when I saw children throwing stones at them, all because they weren't as neat or as clean looking as the ducks. I decided that I would feed them, and that it would be my own private game that they alone could join in with.

"You see, they are the greatest fliers I have ever seen - even better than us. Although I must say, they do not look as beautiful in the air as you do, or on the floor, for that matter. You really are so beautiful to me, Draco. Anyway, as I was saying, they have this amazing aerial acrobatic skill that is just breathtaking. They can take off at a moment's notice and soar up in the air to catch whatever is thrown their way. Being the hungry little things they are, you tend to see lots of them take off after the same morsel. It is wonderful to see. It reminds me of the synchronised courtship of the Merpeople, only out of water. You will love it! When you wake up, I will take you to the park and show you how to get the best distance by flicking your wrist in a certain way that allows the bread to get maximum height. You will love to see the graceful seagulls tear off after it, just like we do with the Snitch. It is awesome that they can fly, capture and eat in perfect synchronicity. I can't wait to show you. It's my birthday tomorrow. It would be lovely if you could go and play Frisbee with me."

Hermione stood in the doorway, unobserved by Harry, and quietly sobbed her heart out for her best friend. She had never before realised just how much Harry loved Draco, but she could totally relate to the seagulls in Harry's story. In a way, they were him. Closing the door, she went out to find Ron, who was sitting at the kitchen table trying to convince Dobby that it was perfectly okay to play Exploding Snap. Dobby was having none of it.

"Ron, leave Dobby alone. I want you to go and take Harry for a pint. He has been cooped up all day. I will stay with Draco whilst you are gone." Ron - who was bored stiff already - didn't need asking twice.

"Harry, is it okay to come in? Hermione has asked me to take you to the pub for a pint - she says that she will watch Draco. She is just making a cuppa and then said she'll be straight in. Come on mate, if we hurry we can catch a couple of games of pool, my treat."

"Oh, it's Ron. I better go, especially seeing as he is offering to pay. I will see you later, love. Pleasant dreams." Harry bent over and kissed Draco on the nose and moved over to where Ron was standing, thankful when his other best friend placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"He will wake up, Harry. I know he will, mate." Hermione chose that moment to enter the room, promising Harry that she would notify him immediately if there was any sign of Draco waking up. With both boys out of the way, she settled into the chair Harry had previously occupied and started to speak to Draco.

"Hello Draco, I hope you can hear me. It's Hermione Granger. I know you are not very fond of Ron or me, and to be honest, we don't particularly have a good reason to like you. After all, history and precedent are somewhat against us. But you did something that we could never have done. You saved Harry's life. And we could never thank you enough for that.

"I know that Ron can be a foul tempered fool at times, and I… okay, I can be a little bit of a know it all. And well, I think at times that comes in handy. I know that you are in love with Harry - you would have to be to do what you did for him.

"Do you know that I listened to him each day this week as he poured his heart out and told you how much he loves you? Merlin. I hope you can hear me, because I have a deal for you. You wake up, make Harry the happiest man alive, and I will let you call me every derivative of Mudblood that you can devise.

"I don't know what sort of boyfriend you would be for Harry, but I am certain of one thing. He deserves to have someone like you to love. And quite frankly, you deserve someone to love you like that, too. So please, do us all a favour and wake up. Make Harry complete."

Draco felt like he was in a tunnel. It was as if the tunnel was in sections, only the sections were not of any material he could recognise. They seemed to be made of blocks of memories. He started to walk through the tunnel, seeing his birth, then his childhood. Draco watched himself marvelling at the image of his first broom, and performing his first spell when he was seven. Moving further into the tunnel, Draco walked through a memory of his first days at Hogwarts, and the rejection by Harry Potter. Hurt and despair overwhelmed him briefly as he saw the next five years play out in the next part of the tunnel, only instead of the feelings getting stronger, they were changing.

He could sense in his own memories when the time came for 'Potter' to change in his mind to 'Harry'. Intermingled with these feelings were the images that showed Draco when he realised his parents were not the role models he had thought them to be. He relived the point in his life when he realised he was in love, and because of that love, the only killing he could ever possibly do would have to be in defence of that love - in defence of his Harry. Next, he saw how he had followed his Harry around the school for a whole year, just so he could look at him, all the while feeling more and more empty because he couldn't make Harry aware of his feelings for fear of more rejection.

The battle and the ensuing blast from Harry played in front of his mind next, vivid images that made him believe that he might actually be dead. But moving on, he noticed a light at the end of the tunnel. He could hear Harry talking to him about a whole host of things, but they were all jumbled words, all mish-mashed together, not making real sense. Harry was saying he loved, but not clarifying what it was he loved, and there was bread, and there were seagulls, and Mudbloods and Granger. And it was Harry's birthday, and there were cruel children whom Harry threw bread at. It was all a blur.

Then there was a kiss. It was definitely a kiss. He could feel the warmth of soft lips on his nose, and he could hear the words 'I love you'. The light was getting brighter, the voices were getting clearer. Draco could hear Harry again, but this time the words seemed to be forming into sentences. Draco could feel Harry close to him, and now he could hear multiple voices. Granger was there as well, and then the light dimmed and the voices died.

"He has been as quiet as a church mouse, Harry. Did you have a nice time?" Hermione asked. Harry smiled and thanked her for looking after Draco, then closing the door behind her. He went to the en-suite bathroom and got changed into his pyjamas and dressing gown before sitting in the chair next to Draco and falling asleep.

Harry woke the next morning with his head resting on the bed, facing Draco. As he opened his eyes, he jumped up from the chair in shock. Rubbing his eyes, he looked back at the bed to see the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. A pair of silver grey eyes looking back at Harry, set in a face that was wearing the biggest smile he could hope to see. Draco was awake.

Harry rushed forward, and then stopped himself. He didn't quite know what to do. He had an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch Draco, to lunge in and kiss him, but common sense screamed at him to get the mediwitch to make sure everything was okay.

He was spared the choice when Draco spoke to him.

"Hi there. I was wondering when you would wake up."

"Oh Draco, you're awake. God, I have been so worried…" Harry sat on the bed next to him, tracing his fingers down Draco's cheek before leaning in and kissing him. The kiss was soft and full of every unspoken sentiment between them.

"Thought I had lost you before I could tell you how I felt-"
Harry said, in between kisses.

"You have always had me, Harry. There could only ever be you."

Harry moved up the bed to snuggle Draco and panicked slightly when it appeared as if Draco had fallen asleep again. He calmed down slightly when Draco squeezed his knee and whispered, "So sleepy, Harry."

"Then sleep, my love, and when you wake up, I will make you the biggest fry up this side of the Pennines."

"I'd rather feed the seagulls, Harry."

"You heard me. You heard me talking to you. Oh Draco…" Tears rolled down Harry's face as he held his saviour, realising that Draco had heard all the things he said to him. As he drifted off to sleep, content that his life was going to be just fine from now on, he was given the best gift of all. Draco turned into him, kissed his nose and said,

"Happy birthday, Harry!"

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