A/N - Warning - very definitely adult content (slash) towards end. Read at your own discretion.
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Chapter 3
Everything was dark, wet and grimy... the mud lay thick on the ground, sucking at Harry's feet as he tried to make his way through the combatants. Curses flew past him through the smokey, acrid smelling air dizzyingly close. Some found their targets, who dropped like rag dolls, others struck counter curses with brilliant flashes of light and resounding crashes, and still more blasted into the mud all around, spattering him with gritty filth that seemed to cling to him. The loud sounds were almost welcome, as they drown out the cries of the wounded and dying that littered the ground around him. He passed body after body that bore a painfully familiar face. His classmates, Order members, and even a professor here and there. The carnage was horrific and yet he carried on. He had a goal, a purpose, and he could not fail.
He came to a stop as a shadowy figure appeared before him. He did nothing more than stand there. Harry pulled out the Elder wand and pointed it at the figure, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to use it. The figure lifted his arm. Harry feared he was about to attack, but then he saw that the hand was wandless. There was nothing pointed at him other than a hand with long, thin fingers. The hand was pale, but with a smoothness that suggested youth, the empty palm facing him in an almost welcoming gesture.
Harry suddenly felt the Elder wand wrenched from his hand and he was shoved aside, falling to the mucky ground. He looked up in shock to see Ron standing there... except he looked different somehow. The good-natured smile and kindness were gone. His gaze was hard and cold.
"If you can't do what has to be done, step aside!" He growled, glaring down at him with a gaze that held both irritation and a definite hint of condescension. Without another word, he shot a killing curse at the figure, who instantly crumpled to the ground. That done, he simply trooped on without another backward glance, a stream of faceless warriors following along behind him. Harry looked over to where the figure had fallen. The hood had fallen away now. The ever present sickly black mud crept up, snuffing the bit of light that seemed to radiate from the platinum blond hair. Harry caught a glimpse of those pale gray eyes staring up sightlessly before they too disappeared beneath the mud. "NO!" Harry screamed in horror. He scrambled over, fighting the mud as it tried to suck him down as well, grabbing for the last bit still visible... that single pale hand.
"Potter!"
Harry lifted his head, trying to look around, but there was nothing but blackness. Had the mud swallowed him?
"Potter! Wake the bloody Hell up!" Draco growled.
Harry came out of it a bit, blushing and releasing his death grip on Draco's hand. "Sorry..." He muttered, still trying to get oriented. He jerked in fright as he heard what sounded like a glacier cracking in half and felt the ground tremble. "What's going on?!" He asked, frightened.
"Magic storm. Come on, we've got to seal this place up." Draco said hurriedly.
"A what?" Harry said, pulling off the blanket that had gotten quite twisted around his ankles.
"Not the time to be sitting there asking for explanations, Potter. Up!" Draco insisted.
Harry jumped a bit as he heard a sudden loud hissing sound. "What's that?!"
"Putting the fire out. We have to close up the chimneys. Grab your sheet and tuck it around the bottom edge of your window. It doesn't seal well."
Harry tugged the sheet out of the mess of blankets and went over. He could feel something tickling his fingertips as he shoved it in the little gap under the window. The crashing and reverberating outside made him very nervous. It sounded a bit like a bad thunder storm, but harder and more violent somehow. The howling of the wind sounded like a banshee's wail. At least he prayed that was the wind.
"Got this one." Draco said, picking up a metal bucket of some kind from the sound of it. "Go grab up some towels from the loo. Dirty ones if possible. If they're damp they'll work better."
Harry nodded and hurried about his task. By the time he emerged with the towels, two of which were still damp from their evening showers, he could hear the little vent above the stove squeaking shut. The water in the sink was also running, filling the bucket back up. "I got the hand towels and washcloths too." He said, carefully straightening the stack so they wouldn't fall.
Draco took one of the damp towels in passing, "I read about these storms. They had them during the last war, and I hear they've started up again since this one heated up. They're caused by residual magic from big battles." He said as he stuffed the towel under the outside door. "It's kind of like in those Muggle wars back when they used muskets and cannons." He continued as he walked past, going over to the sink. "There would be so much smoke from firing them rising up in the air that it seeded the clouds and made it rain. Same basic thing happens with magical battles, except it's stray magic that gets into the clouds. It builds up slowly as the air flow mixes it up and the contrasting magics clash... usually ends up drifting away and not gathering enough strength to lash out until it's hundreds of kilometers from the actual battle. We're half way up a mountain just about at the cloud line, and apparently this is where this particular magic storm decided to break. It can't rise up enough to get over the mountain, so we get dumped on. Lucky us." He grumbled as he shut off the water and heaved the bucket out of the sink. "It's not even quite here yet, but we have minutes at best. We've got to get sealed up before it really hits. The rain is what brings it down the worst."
"How dangerous is it?" Harry asked worriedly, trying not to flinch as another crack of magical thunder shook the cabin hard enough to make the dishes in the cabinets clink together. He hurried after Draco as the boy made his way into the living room.
"Go get under the front door while I get the last fireplace." Draco instructed quickly.
Harry wasn't sure about the orientation of the cabin, but there were only two doors to his knowledge, so he headed for the one just to the left of the rocking chair.
"It's not too terribly dangerous so long as you take proper precautions." Draco replied calmly as the fire hissed out angrily. "The brunt can't penetrate the protective spell guarding this place, but the errant magic can filter in through cracks and do odd things to you if you let it. If you're daft enough to be out in it, it would drive you completely barking, but if you somehow survived you'd probably recover after a while. Of course if you were flying through the clouds themselves on a broom you'd be dead, but hopefully no one's that daft. Once the storm passes, the ambient magic level should return to normal in short order." With a little hiss of pain and a noisy clatter, the last chimney shut.
"You ok?" Harry asked worriedly.
"Fine." Draco muttered somewhat unconvincingly. "You plugged that door up yet?"
"Ya. Is there anywhere else I should be plugging up?" Harry asked worriedly as torrential rain let loose outside, pelting against the cabin as if trying to beat its way through.
Draco came over and grabbed a couple of the remaining towels, then headed off towards the far windows. "If you know of any other places that usually cause a draft, go stuff something in them." Draco said distractedly, apparently checking for leaks (or perhaps simply looking out the window, Harry wasn't sure).
Harry quickly complied, trying to remember where all he'd felt a draft. It was an old cabin, so there were drafts all over really... he just hoped there weren't many bad enough to cause problems. Well, at least they should be safe in here. He couldn't help but wonder if that vivid, disturbing dream had had anything to do with the storm? Well, the sounds of explosions and the like were almost definitely from the sounds of the approaching storm, but... Harry shivered, and it wasn't entirely from the memory. The temperature in the room seemed to be dropping fast and he was only wearing his boxers. He shivered again as he stepped in a little puddle of icy water. Apparently some of the water had slopped out of Draco's bucket when he hauled it in. The water must come from a deep well, because it was absolutely frigid! He paused as he felt a little draft and heard a little whistle of wind blowing past.
"How's it going?" Draco asked after a minute.
"I got the one on that window in the corner. The only other one... um... I don't know how to plug this one." Harry admitted.
"Where is it?"
"Right above me. Is there a skylight or something?" Harry asked, pointing up where he was standing near the entrance to the kitchen. As he tilted his head up, a trickle of icy water fell on him, falling right on his face and into his eyes since he'd had them open out of habit. "Shite!" Harry muttered, rubbing at his eyes.
"Get away from that." Draco ordered firmly. "It's the hatch to the roof. If that's leaking there'll be no plugging it. We'll have to hole up in my room. That's sealed up pretty good."
"Ok." Harry muttered. He was feeling a bit light headed. He shivered as a trickle of water dripped down his bare back.
"Shite! It's dripping! I said to get the Hell away from there!" Draco hissed irritably, coming over and shoving Harry into the kitchen.
Harry just let him lead, then didn't object as Draco used one of the towels to try to dry the water from his back and face. Far from just getting soggy, the small hand towel crackled sharply as if charged with static when Draco tried to get the water out of Harry's hair. Draco let out a little yelp of surprise and tossed it to the ground as it burst into flame.
Harry heard him going to fetch water, but his attention was on the towel. Flames appeared in the absolute blackness that had been his constant companion since that fateful battle. He stared, stunned and fascinated by the brilliant and almost playful dance of bright blue flames.
His eyes shifted over as movement caught his attention. There was a figure standing there. He gazed at it, trying with all his might to make it come into focus. It had been so very long since he'd really seen anything! Slowly, like a Polaroid picture developing, the figure appeared... gray and ghostly at first, but slowly gaining color and definition.
"Mr. Weasley!" Harry said in surprise.
"Harry, my boy..." Arthur said in a faint, far away voice. "I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to see you..." He moved forward, leaving an odd, smoke-like trail behind him as his outline blurred until he came to a stop again, standing so close Harry could see every crease in his weather worn, yet jovial face as it swam back into focus.
The flaming cloth was gone now, or perhaps he just didn't notice it anymore. There was nothing but Arthur Weasley standing before him in the blackness. "I was starting to wonder. Hermione said people would come and visit, but..."
"Sadly, I couldn't come. That you are even seeing me now is nothing short of a miracle. It took a lot of us working together to bring this storm here, so I don't want to waste it." He said, his smile becoming sad. He reached out, brushing his fingers over Harry's cheek. Harry shivered at their icy touch. "I want you to know how much I care about you, Harry. How very proud I am of you."
Harry nodded silently, feeling an unsettled feeling growing in his stomach.
"And I want you to tell Molly something for me."
Harry furrowed his brow. "Me? Why don't you tell her yourself?"
"Because I can't, Harry. Because I'm not afraid of what is before me." That didn't make any sense to Harry, but Arthur forged on without elaborating. "You must tell her that I am sorry. I did listen to her... I kept my promise... but in the end, it didn't matter. There is a man, Perron Vaughn... He is a member of the Order... when the others were gone, he waited for me to run off on the fool's errand he'd been trying to talk me into... and when I didn't, he just came in after me. He betrayed me... just as he has betrayed so many others."
"What do you mean? What did this Perron Vaughn bloke do?" Harry asked, vehemently denying the conclusion his mind was wanting to make.
"He killed me, Harry." Arthur said gently. "He killed me inside one of our safe houses and took my body away, leaving it laying in a field so no one would suspect it was one of our own who'd done it."
Harry's eyes watered up. "No! You're not dead! How can you be dead if I can see you?!"
"Those without the gift of sight are often the only ones who can see beyond what the eyes can show us. Just because a person dies without becoming a ghost doesn't always mean their soul has left cleanly. Some, like me, feel the need to linger..." He said softly, and as he did, other shadowy figures started appearing from the blackness around them. "To put right mistakes they have made in their lives... or simply to watch over their loved ones to make sure they are alright and that they move on with their lives."
The tears streamed down from Harry's eyes. Two of the figures, a man and a woman, stood arm and arm... and though they were no more than vague, human shaped outlines, he somehow felt sure that those were his parents.
"You must tell her, Harry." Arthur pleaded softly, "Tell her so I can rest."
"But I don't want you to leave! I don't want you to be dead!" Harry sobbed.
Arthur reached out, taking Harry into a gentle embrace. His touch sent icy shivers through Harry, but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around him, holding on tightly. "Nothing can change what has happened, Harry. I never wanted to leave you... to leave my family... but it happened. When this moment is over, I will just be a silent, unseen soul again, drifting and trapped until my unfinished business is finished. There are dozens more just like me, who met their fates at this man's hands. Let us pass on. I want to see my parents again... all of my friends and family members I've lost... I want to see Fred. They're waiting for me."
Harry couldn't stop sobbing, but he nodded. He wouldn't want to be kept from his own parents, his own loved ones. He couldn't bear the thought of doing that to Arthur. "I'll do it. I promise."
He looked up as his skin chilled. Several figures had approached. As he watched, their wispy faces came into better focus and they smiled at him. Hands reached out, brushing him like cool drafts. His mother kissed his cheek as his father ruffled his fingers through his hair. It sent shivers down his spine, but he didn't care. He saw Lupin and Sirius and it felt like his heart would burst.
"We'll wait for you, darling." His mother whispered in his ear. "But take your time. Life is fleeting and should be cherished. We'll gladly wait two hundred years if that is how long you choose to spend in this world. There's no hurry. In death we will have eternity to be together."
Harry nodded numbly. The idea of being together with them made his chest ache. He felt the deep chill within him start to subside and they drew away. As they started to drift off, he looked past them. There was a wispy figure that could have been no one other than Dumbledore... but it didn't approach. It merely nodded and drifted away. Much to his surprise, Harry saw Snape standing there as well, staring at him silently. His arms were folded over his chest as they often were, but his expression was neutral rather than the scowl he customarily wore when looking at Harry. Harry felt an unexpected pang of loss. No matter what else he'd done, Snape had saved him and looked out for him. He didn't deserve the death he'd gotten for his efforts.
Snape's eyes trailed over to watch James and Lily as they drifted past. Lily paused beside him, looking over at him, then reached out her free hand, offering it to him. Snape stared at the hand for a moment, then shifted his gaze over to James. When the man did nothing more than smile at him, Snape slowly reached out and took it. Harry just watched as they drifted away, the three of them walking side by side.
He turned around, but the other vague specters had all gone. All except one that is. There was a boy of about his age standing there, gazing at him intently. He had lovely, almond shaped eyes and an almost delicate bone structure... he looked familiar, but most of him was pale and somewhat indistinct and Harry couldn't quite place him. He thought to ask him who he was, but the boy drifted away like smoke before he could.
Once he was gone, Harry was left in blackness once more. Slowly, he realized that he wasn't standing any longer, though he didn't remember laying down. He shifted and felt sheets soft as butter brush over his back... as well as warm, bare flesh pressed up against him. He shifted his head up, trying to get oriented and figure out what was going on. The body beside him stirred.
"Coming out of it, are you?" Draco asked gently, as if afraid to set him off.
"Out of what?" Harry asked, trying to figure out how he got there.
"You got some of that water on you. Looked like it had you hallucinating pretty good. You were even talking to yourself a bit."
Harry's heart tightened, starting to ache. It hadn't been real. He supposed that was good, because it would mean Mr. Weasley wasn't really dead... but the rest of it... tears crowded his eyes as he remembered his mother's touch. How he wanted that to be real!
"It's getting pretty bloody cold in here. You were just this side of an ice cube and you weren't warming up on your own even covered in blankets, so... umm..." Draco said, obviously a bit embarrassed to be caught voluntarily sharing a bed with him. "But, I mean you're a bit warmer now, so you can move over to that side of the bed now. We don't have enough blankets, or I'd just spend the night in the chair..."
Harry ignored his explanations, shifting closer and settling his head on Draco's shoulder. Being alone is about the last thing Harry wanted right now. He couldn't seem to stop the tears once they started.
Draco seemed a bit uncomfortable with it, but didn't object.
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The storm seemed almost never ending. Harry found himself longing once more for some way to track time. It was frustrating. He'd stopped crying eventually and had slept for a time, but the rest of his time was spent worrying about Draco. He didn't want to stay under the blankets. He'd tolerate it for a while, but then he had to get up.
The air was quite frigid... to the point that Harry was pretty sure their breath had to be condensing in the air when it hit it... and yet Draco, clad only in boxers, and silk ones at that from the feel of them, kept getting out of the bed. He paced around, apparently trying to keep warm through physical activity, but from the chattering of his teeth that he couldn't quite stifle, Harry could tell it wasn't working.
Finally, Harry had had it. Draco's pace had been getting slower, his feet dragging more, and somehow Harry didn't think Draco was just getting tired. "Get back in the bloody bed before you get completely hypothermic, you bloody prat!" He growled impatiently.
"I'm fine." Draco said, the wavering in his voice caused by the barely restrained chattering along with shivering detracting from the believability of his statement quite a bit. "Besides, listen to it. It's letting up. It'll be done within an hour or so, tops."
The storm had quelled a bit, but it didn't sound almost done to Harry. "Even if it does, you won't make it a bloody hour!" Harry hissed irritably. "Stop being such a bloody wuss!"
Draco was silent for a long moment, during which Harry could swear he could actually feel the boy's angry glare. Finally, he relented. "Budge up then." He muttered.
Harry shifted over, but it was a small, single bed without much room for two people. Draco got under the blankets and settled down with his back to Harry. Harry shivered as Draco's arm brushed him while the boy was arranging the blanket. He reached over, feeling Draco's skin. "You're cold as a bloody corpse!"
"Very sensitive analogy during wartime, Potter." Draco muttered, obviously trying hard to quell the somewhat convulsive shudders running through him.
"Oh bottle it!" Harry replied with an exasperated edge. He shifted over, slipping his arm around Draco's waist to draw him nearer as he shifted up, spooning against Draco's back.
"What the bloody Hell do you think you're doing, Potter?" Draco hissed, struggling against Harry's hold on him.
Harry just tightened his hold a bit. "You need to warm up now or you're going to catch your death. You didn't seem to object earlier when I was the one freezing."
"Yes, well that was..." Draco started.
"Oh just put a cork in it! Man up and deal with a bit of irritation for a while. Once you're warm again I'll go back to my side of the bed, such as it is, and you can have your precious bloody space!" Harry snapped, his patience gone.
Draco just fell into an irritable silence, but didn't make any further attempts to escape Harry's proximity.
It wasn't that comfortable for Harry either, but with time, Draco slowly warmed. As his body temperature rose, however, so did the obvious signs of his discomfort. At first it was just a slight, rhythmic tensing in his shoulders. After a few minutes, Harry realized it coincided with his breath. He shifted his head so his breath didn't brush Draco and the tick subsided. Other things were obviously bothering Draco as well... Harry couldn't discern the sources of the irritation, but he could tell by Draco's uneven breath and the minute shifting of his body that this was really starting to get to the boy.
"I'm warm already, now get off!" Draco snapped after a bit.
"You're still pretty cool. Give it a few more minutes." Harry persisted.
Draco yanked as Harry's wrist, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Harry just held tighter. "Don't make me hurt you!" Draco growled angrily.
"I just don't want you to get sick!" Harry protested.
"Sick? How about going nutters?!" Draco snapped back. "Your stomach is gurgling. Did you know that? I do. I can feel every bloody rumble going straight through the small of my back. I can feel your bloody heart beating through your skin, can feel every shift you make, every brush of that bloody sandpaper your boxers are made of, and have you ever heard of bloody moisturizer?! Either you're going to back off right bloody now, or I'm going to break your bloody nose!"
Harry withdrew his arm and shifted away. "Sorry. I was just trying to help." He muttered softly.
Draco didn't reply. He just shifted over until he had to be perched right on the very edge of the bed, as far from Harry as he could get.
There was a rather awkward silence after that. After a few minutes, Draco started shifting uncomfortably. He let out a little pained sound, then sat up, throwing off the blankets.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked worriedly.
"I'm going to go check the weather. I had my windows sealed up, so I'll have to go out of the room. You stay here." Draco said, heading for the door.
"Wait! It's still raining! Isn't it still dangerous out there?"
"For you, yes. I, on the other hand, can see and avoid any puddles... and know better than to stand under a leaking spot in the roof." He added pointedly, "Stay put."
Harry didn't like it, but he didn't see as he had much choice in the matter. He got the feeling Draco was more in need of fresh air than worried about how the weather was fairing.
He lay there, trying not to worry... but as the minutes dragged on, he started to fret. He hadn't heard much movement for a while. He tried to reassure himself that Draco was probably just peering out the window or something, but the nagging worry wouldn't go away. It was dangerous out there!
He sat up as he heard something. It had sounded like Draco's voice, but it was muffled. It had been a soft cry that kind of sounded pained. "Draco?" He called worriedly.
There was no response.
Harry got up, pulling the top blanket off the bed and draping it around his shoulders, then making his way towards the door. "Draco?" He called again. Still no response. The door was ajar. He wasn't sure if it'd been left that way or if the slight breeze he could feel outside the room had blown it open a bit. He opened it, listening intently to try to hear him. There was a smell to the place... an odd, slightly metallic smell he couldn't quite pin down. It seemed to change as he tried to figure out what it smelled like, becoming slightly musky. Was there water on the floor? Draco's footsteps had been hesitant when he left the room... there could be puddles of water all over the floor for all he knew. He stepped hesitantly out. His heart caught in his chest for a moment as the board beneath his foot creaked. It'd never done that before.
There was a little shuffling sound, then he heard an unmistakable irritable huff. "Get back in the bloody bed, Potter!" Draco called angrily.
"I was just getting worried. You were taking a while..." Harry replied defensively.
"Can't a bloke go to the bloody loo in peace?"
"Oh. Sorry." Harry said, blushing and hurrying back into the bedroom.
A few minutes later, Draco returned to the room, shutting the door behind him. "Looks like the place took some damage." Draco said. His voice seemed calmer now at least.
Harry was glad it sounded like the breather had eased the tension that had been building in him. "How bad is it?" he asked when Draco didn't elaborate right away.
"Pretty large branch went through the roof in your room and there's another poking through in the lavatory. Might be part of the same branch really if it was a very large one. Didn't do much damage in the bathroom. Just leaking into the bathtub. Your room's a bit of a mess, I'm afraid. Nothing they shouldn't be able to fix though I'd imagine. They can mend the shattered windows in the kitchen while they're at it."
"They?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't know how to even begin patching up a roof without magic. As soon as this finishes letting up, I'm ringing the bell." Draco said distractedly as he opened up his wardrobe.
"I thought that was just for emergencies." Harry said, wondering at Draco's sudden eagerness to call for help even though they were both fine. So Harry would have to sleep on the couch for a while. It hardly seemed like a worthy reason to call fighters off of the battle field.
"Well, damage to the structure of the cabin is going to wear at the charm that's hiding us. If we don't get it fixed right quick, we might as well tie bloody ribbons around ourselves and wait for the bloody Death Eaters to come collect their presents." Draco said with a familiar sarcastic tone.
"Ah." Harry said, feeling properly contrite. He heard the creak of the chair as Draco sat in it. "Oh come on! I'll stay on my side."
"I'm fine. I found the robe they gave me. It's a second hand piece of shite with seams that like to grate at you something awful, but inside out and draped over it makes a passable blanket in a pinch." Draco replied, shuffling around a bit as he obviously was trying to situate the garment properly.
Harry just sighed and got up, grabbing off the top blanket once more. He moved over to the chair, reaching out to locate the boy. He was huddled up in a little ball in the chair under what was obviously a summer robe. Harry just draped the blanket over him, tucking it carefully around him, then went back to the bed.
"You're going to get cold." Draco muttered after a minute.
"I'll survive." Harry muttered, curling up under the remaining covers to conserve his body heat.
It was rather miserable, the cold just enough to make him shiver as he lay there. He nodded off here and there, but mostly it was too cold to get comfortable enough. He was half awake when he heard Draco leave the room again and heard the faint tinkling of the bell in the other room. He idly wondered who would come. Would it be Hermione? Neville? Maybe even Ron? He longed to see his best mate again... and yet that disturbing dream he'd had made him less eager to be reunited with him. It left a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Ron. He couldn't help but remember the look on Ron's face when he glared down at him in that dream. It had made him feel so useless and pathetic.
Harry woke with a jolt as he heard the crack of someone Apparating. He hadn't even realized he'd dozed off again. He held his breath, listening apprehensively.
"I was starting to wonder. It's been nearly an hour since I rang." He heard Draco's voice saying from the kitchen.
"Merlin! What happened here?!"
Harry heard that familiar voice and couldn't help himself. He yanked off the blankets and scrambled to his feet, stumbling across the floor rather faster than was probably wise. "Mrs. Weasley!"
He heard her hurry forward, catching a hold of him and pulling him into a hug. It was a good thing too, as his hand brushed the door frame when he put his arms around her and he had no doubt he would have run straight into it in his haste had she not stepped up. Not that he would have cared if he had. Her arms were around him and it felt like he belonged again. He'd felt like he was floating, separate from the world and cast adrift. The world hadn't seemed real to him anymore. She felt real. He buried his face in the shoulder of her frumpy sweater and breathed in the familiar scent of her. She smelled of sunlight and most especially of her wonderful cooking. There were other smells now though as well. Smells that called to mind dirt and blood. He had a vivid flashback of the battlefield, of his friends and loved ones laying dead all around him, of Ron's glare...
Harry pulled back, forcing a smile and pretending nothing had happened. It was the first time anything like that had happened since he awoke in this place. Sure, he had his dreams at night, and he could imagine people's faces if he tried, but that was the first thing that had come to him unbidden like that, as vivid as if he was seeing it all over again. Sights like that he could do without.
"Are you two alright? What happened?" She asked, trying to brush his hair into place as she spoke, obviously unaware of why he'd pulled away.
"Magic storm. It tore through here last night. Did some damage to the roof." Draco replied calmly, though Harry could tell by the slight tremor in his voice he was shivering once more.
"That can't be!" She said, obviously shocked. "We've been tracking those! The one in this area last night should have passed through the valley a good fifty kilometers east of here and continued on a good hundred or so kilometers beyond that before breaking! You shouldn't have done more than hear some distant thunder at best!"
"Well, it didn't. It dropped on us instead." Draco replied. "We holed up in my room. Those sealing charms you put on it came in handy."
Harry couldn't stop the shudder that went through him when a breeze hit him. He hadn't even brought a blanket with him.
"You must be freezing!" She said, immediately spotting this.
Without another word, she had them shuffled back into Draco's room. It was a good thing Draco hadn't tried to reopen the chimney himself, because she had to use a purging charm on it to get a buildup of magically charged rainwater out of it first. Apparently the seals in these chimneys were magical, because Harry didn't imagine Muggle ones would have held back as much water as he heard pouring out of that one. After that, she had a fire going in short order and both Harry and Draco huddled before it in their blankets without argument while she went about trying to put the place back in order.
She was back before Harry had even gotten completely thawed out.
"Well, I think I've done all I could for now. The windows are repaired, the excess water dried up, though it did awful things to the woodwork. Once it's dried out good we'll see if we can do more for it. The fire is going in the living room and the place should be warmed back up soon. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do right now for the roof. I've had to seal off your bedroom, Harry dear. I'm sorry about that, but it's the only way to reinforce the Fidelius charm until that's fixed. I'll have the boys come and try to fix it when they're able. It'll probably be a couple of days though. Hopefully they'll be able to spot the limb and levitate it out or banish it from the porch so they can stay inside the charm's boundaries."
"There's a porch?" Harry broke in in surprise.
"Why yes. You didn't know that?" She asked in surprising. "It's a quite large one. Wraps around three sides of the cabin. Most of it has a roof over it, but the bit towards the end on the far side doesn't, so hopefully that will give them a vantage point to work from. As long as we stay on the porch we are within the reach of the charm. Of course I wouldn't suggest it until it dries up out there."
Harry was a bit stunned to know he could go outside. Well, in a limited sense, but still. He'd been caged up inside for so long the idea was rather enticing. Thinking about it, it was obvious why Draco never went out, considering his clothing issues and the time of year, but Harry thought he just might venture out. Once it was dry of course.
"What about the loo?" Draco asked.
"Well, I must warn you there's a bit of that water built up in bathtub."
"Ya, that bloody plug is always falling in there and blocking it up. It really needs a chain so we can hook it over the faucet or something, but that seemed rather frivolous before." Draco commented.
"I'll see about that... but for now it's nearly a third of the way full of that rainwater, and it's too dangerous to try to banish it when there's that much in one place. Puddles are one thing but..." She trailed off, shaking her head from the sound of her hair brushing her robe, "I'm afraid you won't have the use of the bathtub until the roof is fixed, but since you shouldn't use any of the water here for a couple of days that shouldn't be an issue anyway. I conjured some jugs of water and left them on the counter in the kitchen. It should lose strength with time and I can see about having a protective glove of some sort made to reach the plug. Maybe with luck it will eat through the plug and drain on its own. For now, just avoid coming into contact with the water. The porcelain seems more than capable of dealing with it, and we can finish taking care of it when we finish with the roof."
"You can't seriously expect us to go without bathing for days!" Draco said as if the mere thought was ludicrous.
Harry tried hard not to smirk. Draco bathed a lot. At least daily, if not more often. He wasn't sure if that was an issue with his overly sensitive skin, or just a long standing hygiene regiment. He always had seemed almost overly meticulous about his appearance. Not that there was anyone here to impress, but some people seemed to draw comfort from routine.
"Well, perhaps this will help. I almost forgot!" She replied.
Harry heard her shuffling around, obviously looking for something in her robe, then she took his hand and placed something in it. Harry immediately recognized the heft and feel of a wand in his hands as a tingle of power skittered through him. He examined it intently with his fingers. It felt like his old, beloved wand magically, but the shape wasn't quite right. The grip was unworn and narrower, the length a good half inch or so shorter. "Where did you get this? What kind is it?"
"It's just like your other one, dear. It has one of Fawkes' feathers and all. Apparently Professor Dumbledore had it made just before he died. He knew the advantage having that particular type of wand would have in the battle you faced, and many witches and wizards carry a back up wand in times like this... he just never got the chance to give it to you. Neville went to his office at Hogwarts and talked to Dumbledore's portait. He was hoping to find out if Dumbledore had any Phoenix feathers left about to make a wand for you out of, but as it turns out, Dumbledore beat him to the punch. He told him where to look, and it was right there, waiting to be delivered to you."
His heart sang to feel a powerful wand in his hand once more... but then his smile faded away. "But I can't see. I can't work magic if I can't see." he muttered morosely.
"Nonsense!" She said immediately. "It may be a bit harder to learn new spells and you have to be a fair bit more careful about being sure you're aiming properly, but otherwise you're just as capable of doing magic as the next fellow. You may not be able to bathe for a few days, but you can get yourselves just as clean using hygiene spells. I know they taught you those in school already."
Harry nodded. Those had been first year spells, though most people still preferred regular bathing or showering. He clasped his hands around the wand and held it to him. "Thank you." He said sincerely.
"There's never any need to thank me, Harry dear." She said softly, taking his face between her hands fondly, letting out a sad sigh. "It hasn't been easy, especially since..." Her throat tightened up and she fell silent for a moment before continuing on. "My family has lost so much..."
The air was uneasy as the silence seemed to hang there after that. Harry couldn't help but feel that the pain in her voice was too fresh to be referring just to Fred. Try as he might, he couldn't help the little feeling of dread in his stomach... a feeling that his 'hallucination' had some real meaning to it. "Can... can I see Mr. Weasley?" He asked before he could stop himself.
There was a bit of a pause, then she said, "No, Harry." in a business-like tone, "I'm afraid that won't be possible. We're all very busy. Sparing the boys for a hour or so just to fix the roof will be hard enough..."
"Why are you lying?" Draco cut in.
Mrs. Weasley sputtered a bit with obvious shock at the accusation.
"Draco!" Harry hissed reproachfully.
"You didn't see her face when you asked her!" Draco shot back. "He's dead, isn't he?" He asked Mrs. Weasley.
Harry's heart seemed to tighten in his chest as he waited for her answer. Why wasn't she denying it immediately? As the moment drew out, the despair within him swelled quickly.
She took a deep breath, then sighed it out. "Yes." She breathed softly.
Tears crowded Harry's eyes.
"We've been together so long I just... I can't comprehend life without him." She said, the ache in her voice painful to hear, "It's been about two weeks now. They took him from me during the battle that happened shortly after Hermione returned with the news that you'd awoken. He was so happy when he heard. Your uncertain fate had hung over him like a shadow... to see him smile again... you lifted such a burden from him." She reached over, stroking Harry's cheek lovingly, brushing away his tears. Then her hand dropped and she sighed achingly. "He shouldn't have even been there. He knew he'd been targeted. He was supposed to just be staying at the safe house and coordinating our efforts from there. He promised me he would."
Harry felt suddenly cold inside and a touch dizzy. "In a field..." he muttered incredulously.
"What?" She asked.
"They found his body laying in a field, didn't they?"
She was silent for a moment, then said softly, "Yes. How did you know that?"
"He told me. I thought it was just a hallucination... last night I got some of the rain water on me... and I saw him. He spoke to me. This may all be rubbish... but I promised him I would give you a message... he said his soul couldn't rest until you knew... and I'll never forgive myself if I don't tell you and it turned out to be real."
"What did he say?" She asked in a soft, unreadable voice.
"He said he kept his promise to you. He was killed in the safe house, then taken and left in a field so you wouldn't know it was a member of the Order who'd done it. If it was real, that's why the storm was off track. He said he and others like him worked together to shift the storm so it would hit here... so they could get a message to you through me."
"Did he say who it was, this man who killed him?" She asked in that same unreadable voice.
Harry hesitated, suddenly realizing the possible consequences of declaring a man a traitor on the merits of a dream alone.
"Was it Perron Vaughn?" Draco chimed in, "You muttered something about him when you were out of it. I always thought that bloke was dodgy."
"Perron?" Mrs. Weasley said, obviously shocked.
"That is who he said, but this might have just been some dream. I don't want to falsely accuse an innocent man just because of a dream!" Harry said quickly.
Molly reached over, stroking his cheek once more, "I've heard a lot about your mother, Harry dear." She said softly, "Lily was a powerful witch... and she had a special gift. One not many people knew about. She had prophetic dreams. The meanings weren't always immediately apparent, but it saved her more than once... and it saved you. You've already shown many signs of having inherited her talent... Arthur always did say he was sure you had it. Even if you only got a touch of it... blindness may detract from life in many ways, but it would also make someone with such talent a natural conduit. You wouldn't be too distracted by the 'real world' to see beyond it. If he would have needed to send a message to me from beyond... I do believe he would have chosen you to receive it. Such a storm would have made you even more sensitive, and coming into direct contact with the rainwater... Yes, sometimes a dream is just a dream, even for people with the gift... but you knew things you could not have known, and named a man who I know full well you never met, and I truly doubt you would have even heard about. This definitely merits looking into. Don't worry, we have ways of testing loyalty. We'll know soon enough if he's the one who's been sabotaging our efforts."
Harry just nodded mutely.
"I'm so proud of you, Harry dear." She sighed, drawing him closer and kissing his forehead. "You've been so brave through this all."
Harry certainly didn't feel brave. He was just sitting here doing nothing while others were fighting and dying. He couldn't believe Arthur was really gone. The reality of it was starting to sink in, and it made him ache to his core. He would have given anything for that to have just been a dream... for Arthur to still be alive and well.
She released him and shifted a bit, obviously looking over at Draco. "Draco, dear... I'm sorry, but we still haven't been able to find a match for your wand. It was a rather rare type, and wands have been in short supply, what with Ollivander's being burnt to the ground and..."
"That's fine." Draco muttered. "I told you before you needn't bother yourself looking."
She sighed, then turned her attention back to Harry, "I'm terribly sorry, but I really need to be going, Harry dear. The boys should be along perhaps tomorrow evening, the next morning at the latest." She said regretfully.
Harry just nodded, then subtly held his breath as she hugged him tightly once more and kissed his cheek. When she released him, he heard her move over and cloth brushing.
"Is there anything you need? Anything at all I can get you?" She asked softly, though it was obvious she was addressing Draco now.
"I'm fine." He muttered.
From the slightly muffled sound of his voice and their proximity, Harry was pretty sure Mrs. Weasley was hugging Draco. That quite surprised him. She'd never seemed to care much for him when they'd crossed paths before.
"Tell that house elf of yours if you think of anything."
"Sure." He replied somewhat less than convincingly.
She sighed, and from the sound of it, gave him a kiss on the cheek as well before pulling away. "I must be off." She said sadly as she stepped away. "Take care. The both of you."
Harry just nodded and after a moment there was a sharp clap and he knew she was gone. Arthur's death seemed to fill his mind. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to push it behind that comfortable barrier of his. Arthur had been like a father to him. Why did it seem that every man who showed him kindness ended up dead?! It felt as if he was cursed.
"You hungry?" Draco asked softly.
Harry just shook his head.
"I doubt you got much sleep last night. Use my bed for now. I'm not really tired."
Harry nodded numbly, going back to Draco's bed. He flopped down on it and lay there for a time, but his brain just refused to shut down. He kept remembering Arthur... how kind he'd been to him and how he seemed to just immediately accept Harry as one of his own. He remembered the fear and pain he'd felt the first time he'd thought Arthur had been killed, when he'd seen a vision of him being attacked by a huge snake. There would be no news that he was alive to bring joy back into his heart this time. He was well and truly gone. He couldn't imagine never seeing that warm, jovial face again, never hearing his voice. He felt sick and aching and numb all at the same time. It felt like something was building inside him. He just wanted to lash out or scream at the top of his lungs or... or... something! Anything that would make the feeling inside him go away. It was filling him, making it hard to breath. He wanted to break down and sob like a child, but the tears wouldn't come for some reason. So the frustration, pain and tension just kept building, winding tight inside him.
Eventually he gave up on sleeping. He was too pent up. He had to get up and do something. He paced the room for a bit, but that seemed to accomplish nothing. Giving up on that, he made his way into the living room. He stopped under the hatch to the roof, tilting his head upward, but the wind wasn't even whistling through it anymore.
"She patched it." Draco said, his voice sounding rather tired. "Besides, if what you saw is true, he's gone now."
Harry nodded, not trusting his voice.
"You cared about him."
It wasn't really a question, but Harry nodded again.
"You going to be ok?"
"I don't know." Harry breathed, unable to fight the tears as they finally broke free, tracing their way down his face. He took a deep breath. "I just want to make it go away. All this pain and all of my memories. It's just too much. I just want it to stop!"
"I don't know what to tell you." Draco replied softly. "If I knew how to do all that, don't you think I would have done it to myself by now?"
Harry went over to the rocker in which he sat, ignoring the new creaks the floorboards had acquired. He held out his wand, offering it to Draco hilt first. "You could Obliviate me."
Draco snorted. "Yeah. Like they would believe that you asked me to." He said, getting up. "But I just may know a temporary fix for you at least."
"What?" Harry asked, feeling a bit desperate for anything that would help.
"Bring that wand over here." Draco said, taking a hold of Harry's elbow and leading him across the room. He brought him to a stop, then placed Harry's hand on a lock. "Unlock this."
Harry didn't even bother asking what he was unlocking. "Alohamora!"
"Finally!" Draco sighed as he removed the lock and opened the cabinet. "Here you go. Temporary oblivion in a bottle." Draco said, yanking out a cork and handing Harry a large bottle. "There's glasses as well if you want to bother with them. Personally, I don't require such niceties."
Harry sniffed his bottle as Draco uncorked another and took a healthy slug from it. The fumes alone made his eyes water. It was obviously rather high proof alcohol. Not a perfect solution, but it was better than nothing. Harry took a slug from the bottle... then promptly coughed half of it back out.
"Don't worry, Potter. It mellows. Keep at it." Draco said with more enthusiasm in his voice than Harry had heard the whole time they'd been in this cabin. Draco then went over, plunking down on the couch and taking another swig.
Harry went over, sitting beside him and setting his wand on the coffee table before them. "I've never had anything stronger than butterbeer." He admitted, taking a much more cautious taste from his bottle.
"Well, this is a far cry from butterbeer."
Harry tried a full swig and managed to keep it down. It burned wickedly, but in a not entirely unpleasant way. He gave it a moment to settle in his stomach, then had another go. Draco was already far ahead of him from the sound of it. In fact, he seemed to be drinking far more and far faster than seemed wise given his currently somewhat diminished body weight and the fact that he hadn't eaten anything since the few scraps he nibbled at dinner the night before. Still... the more Harry drank, the less things like that bothered him.
By the time his bottle was down to about half, he wouldn't have cared if the bloody cabin was on fire. He set the bottle on the coffee table before him, draping himself back in the lovely, over-stuffed couch. The blissful euphoria of a thick alcohol haze surrounded him, leaving him thoughtlessly happy and content. Even Draco had loosened up considerably. Harry listened to him as he started singing a little song about some girl from across the tracks. The words were a bit slurred, and he had to keep pausing, obviously trying to remember how the song went, but his voice lent well to the song... not to mention that just about anything was high entertainment to Harry in his current condition. It was a sad song, the writer of which was lamenting the fact that his parents were keeping him separated from his love because they felt she was unworthy.
Harry draped his arm over Draco's shoulders in a friendly fashion and Draco slumped over against him a bit, getting into the song. His voice started growing achingly sad as it slowed, obviously nearing the end.
"Patches, oh what will I do? I swear, I'll always love you..." He drawled softly.
Harry cut him off with a kiss. He just couldn't seem to help himself. Draco moaned softly into his mouth, pressing closer. When the kiss broke, there was a rather awkward pause. Harry was normally the last one to even think of initiating anything, but the liquid courage racing through his bloodstream seemed to be muting that little voice in his head that coached him on propriety quite nicely. He reached up, finding Draco's face and gently starting to explore it with his fingertips.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked softly.
"Just looking at you. It's been a while since I've seen you." Harry murmured, concentrating on his sense of touch. Though he'd never had occasion to touch Draco's face before, it felt familiar. The features that slid under his fingertips brought the image of Draco's face vividly into his mind. There were new lines to it now though. Not too terrible, but there were definitely lines there that didn't match his memory. There was a thick scar coming out of the outside corner of his right eye and extending towards his temple for a good two inches or so. As his fingers drifted lower he felt thinner, lighter scars flicked across his cheeks here and there, but overall the damage didn't seem that bad. His nose was still as perfect and aristocratic as ever, his ears intact and unmarred. His fingers drifted down Draco's neck. There were more scars there, but smaller, as if knives had been pressed to his throat many times. There was one scar several inches long over his jugular, but it was thin and he could only hope the cut had been shallow when it was created. As his finger traced it Draco shuddered.
"Does it hurt when I touch you?" Harry asked worriedly, pulling his hands away a bit.
"No." Draco replied in a half whisper. He shifted and Harry heard him set his bottle on the coffee table as well, then Draco took Harry's hands and place them back on him.
Taking that as permission enough, Harry returned to his exploration, making sure to keep his touch feather light. His fingers trailed down Draco's chest, feeling scars of varying lengths and thicknesses, most feeling like they's been caused by a knife, their edges clean cut... but there were a few other ones he wasn't sure the cause of. There was an almost welt-like scar nearly half an inch thick with wavering edges that slashed across more than half of his chest. The tapered end was just past his sternum on his right side, quickly widening as it arched up slightly, passing just beneath his left nipple and actually widening a bit more past that. Draco shifted his arm down as Harry was starting to feel where it trailed down his side. For a moment he thought Draco wanted him to stop, but then Draco's hand shifted his over onto the arm and Harry realized the scar continued across the arm, though it became erratic there.
"Vipertooth venom." Draco said softly.
Harry felt the scarred arm, realizing the scarring did indeed seem to be caused by a liquid. It appeared to have been sprayed across Draco's chest in a thin jet, but when it hit his arm it spattered, leaving a larger, more diffused bit of scarring on the arm, the outlying bits feeling like where drops had fallen. He traced back a bit, slipping his fingers down Draco's side once more and finding that it seemed more like a drip pattern there, the excess venom having flowed down his side. His fingers drifted along the scar as he imagined what it would have been like. Vipertooth venom was said to be excruciating in a way that put the Cruciatus curse to shame even with regular senses. If it was injected with a bite it was unadulterated Hell, its only redeeming quality being the swiftness with which it put you out of your misery. To have it put on your skin though? It would be liquid agony without the benefit of the release of death. And to have that sensation multiplied by another potion?! He wasn't sure how Draco had withstood the pain. He traced back along, letting his finger drift up a bit. It passed no more than a centimeter below the nipple. Just a minute variation in the angle and he probably would have lost that as well. As his finger brushed over the nipple Draco let out a deep, shuddering breath.
Harry pulled his hand away quickly. "Sorry."
Draco was silent for a moment and Harry could hear nothing more than the boy's rather faster than normal breathing. He hadn't even been paying attention to that, and now that he noted it, he grew concerned. "Are you sure I'm not hurting you?"
"Do you want to feel the worst one?" Draco asked softly, apparently ignoring the question.
Harry felt a bit reluctant, but nodded. His reluctance grew as he heard Draco rise. There was a little bit of somewhat unsteady shifting around, then Draco knelt on the couch. He reached over and took Harry's hand, placing it on his lower stomach. He felt the tail end of a scar there.
"He got distracted when the alarm went off. If mother had been a minute later, or father had used a simple severing charm instead of insisting on using the more painful, Muggle method, I'd have been unmanned..." Draco said softly.
Harry knew he should just take his word for it, but his morbid curiosity wouldn't let it pass. His finger traced down, following the scar as it trailed through Draco's pubic hairs. He hesitated slightly as he reached the base of his hampton, where the scar thickened. He took a deep breath, then continued on. The scar ran around, making it obvious his father had gotten nearly half way through before being interrupted. The edges weren't completely smooth either. It felt like he'd sawed at it a bit. Apparently Draco still had the full functioning of the organ though. In fact, it felt quite rigid at the moment.
Harry's fingers lingered for a moment as he fought his curiosity. In the end, he lost the battle. It was right there after all, and surely Draco would stop him if he wanted to. Harry let his fingers venture a bit further. During their rivalry at school, he always fancied that perhaps Draco simply had a tiny hampton, and that how much he showed off and bullied was just to cover this fact. He'd been wrong. It was impressive. Well, the only other one he'd ever touched was his own, but he'd always thought of his as well above average from the statistics he'd seen, and Draco's was bigger still, and rather thicker.
Draco shuddered, then leaned closer and pushed him over onto his back. Harry released him in surprise as he felt his head coming up against the soft arm of the couch. Suddenly Draco's lips claimed Harry's once more. The passion and hunger in those lips made Harry's head spin in a surprisingly pleasant way. Harry felt himself being shifted around a bit until he was properly lengthwise on the couch. He let his hands explore a bit more as they kissed, feeling the many scars that covered Draco's back. The scarring there was much worse than on his chest. It was like a spider web of scars crisscrossing his back. Harry suspected those had more to do with whips, but found such speculations slipping from his mind. He'd been so curious as to what Draco looked like now... and he knew the scars might well look frightening and terrible... but they felt strangely fascinating.
Harry shuddered as Draco settled on top of him, his hands exploring Harry's skin in an entirely unchaste manner. He groaned blissfully as Draco shifted down a bit, kissing and nipping at his neck. How long had he wanted this? To feel someone pressed so intimately up against him, their skin hot and their lips impassioned. He ached for it to his core... and he found he really didn't care about gender right now. All he wanted was to be desired... and most especially to be touched.
When Draco shifted down more and started teasing one of his nipples, Harry found himself grinding his hips up against Draco's stomach shamelessly. Draco groaned deeply, then shifted up. Harry was half afraid he'd leave like he had after they'd kissed, but that worry was quickly quelled as Draco took a hold of Harry's boxers and pulled them off. Harry felt a little exposed, laying there naked in the living room... but Draco quickly distracted him. Harry didn't even bother trying to hold back the groan that escaped him when Draco wrapped his hand around him and started stroking him. This was all so new... amazing and frightening all at the same time. Then Draco drifted down a bit further. Harry couldn't imagine anything more exquisite than the feel of Draco's mouth as he engulfed him. He found himself twining his fingers in the hair at the nape of Draco's neck and holding as he thrust up. Draco never bulked at the rough treatment.
It seemed only moments before Harry felt a blinding surge of pleasure, crying out with abandon as he peaked. He was panting a bit desperately, but he managed to release his grip on Draco's hair as the euphoria slowly ebbed. He shuddered with a little aftershock as Draco released him, but overall a kind of deep contentedness had come over him.
He felt Draco shifting him around a bit, but barely paid it any attention. His mind registered its first hints of curiosity over what the boy was doing when he felt his hips lifted and one of the large throw pillows was wedged under him. He stirred from his contented lethargy, finding himself on his stomach and realizing what Draco intended to do.
"Um... I don't know..." He said, starting to shift up, apprehension fluttering to life in his stomach. He knew it was daft not to have seen this coming.
Draco pushed him back down with a hand on the small of his back. "Just relax. I know what I'm doing." He murmured a bit distractedly.
"Draco, wait! I'm not sure I'm ready for this..." Harry said quickly. His breath doubled fearfully as he felt Draco shift up to him. He tried to relax, but he was so apprehensive it was difficult. He let out a pained gasp as Draco started trying to work his way in. He couldn't help but remember fearfully how big Draco was. Would that thing even fit?
"Come on... relax! Ah... there we go..." Draco sighed, "Bloody Hell... you really haven't gotten your arse fucked before, have you?" He muttered blissfully as he patiently worked himself deeper, making Harry cry out.
Harry wasn't sure what to do. Having his body invaded like this felt painful and a bit frightening. Then again, he supposed Draco had given him pleasure and he kind of owed him... the alcohol running through his veins was making coherent thought rather difficult right now. He clinched his eyes shut and gave up, just waiting for it to be over.
"Almost there..." Draco muttered.
Harry hoped he meant he was almost done, but his true meaning became apparent as Draco shifted up a bit more and thrust in hard, finally burying himself to the hilt. Harry cried out with surprise... and something else... Draco thrust again and he cried out again as the amazing feeling shot through him once more.
"There it is..." Draco murmured as he settled down on top of him, thrusting hard and deep.
Harry couldn't seem to control the sounds coming out of his mouth. Draco was sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body unlike anything he'd ever even imagined. He grabbed a hold of the cushion reflexively, clutching it like a life preserver as the world seemed to quake around him. He found himself anticipating each new thrust... but with desire now rather than fear. Draco was driving into him fast, and yet he found himself wanting to push back to hurry the pace, but Draco had his body pinned down rather neatly. Their hot skin quickly dampened with sweat, getting slick. Draco compensated by slipping his arms around under Harry and getting a good grip on him.
Harry felt an inexplicable bond forming between them that went far beyond the purely physical joining of their bodies. They were connected together by desire and need... a need for something beyond themselves... a human connection... and emotional anchor in their shattered lives. Harry felt it and gave in to it without reserve, revelling in a feeling of closeness he'd never felt before.
Draco pressed his cheek to the back of Harry's neck, resting it there as he took him. Harry shivered and moaned as the feel of Draco's quick breath teased his skin. The sound of the little grunts and groans he made when he thrust sent unexpected desire through Harry. It had to be about the most erotic sound he had ever heard.
If Harry was afraid Draco would finish too soon, he needn't have worried. Though he didn't want it to end, after a while he began wondering how long Draco could possibly keep this up. The pleasure racing through Harry made his head swim and repeatedly drove him to the verge of unconsciousness. In fact, he might have passed out for a moment a time or two, but he wasn't entirely sure. It was both saddening and a relief when Draco finally started speeding up a bit more.
Draco suddenly drove into him hard and tensed, his cry echoing off the walls, sounding almost pained. He gave Harry a couple more rather convulsive thrusts as he finished, then held himself there tensely for a long moment before slowly seeming to sink down, the tension easing from his body.
Harry panted dazedly, still feeling the little aftershocks fluttering through Draco's body as he lay atop him. After a minute, Harry realized how hard he'd been gripping the cushion and released it. The movement was barely anything, but Draco immediately let out a pained breath, shuddering hard.
"Don't. Don't move." Draco whispered tensely.
Harry hadn't really planned to move much, so it was easy to comply. For the first time in his life, he could say with complete honesty that there was no place on earth he'd rather be at that moment than exactly where he was. The couch was comfortable and Draco's body had him feeling quite warm and secure... and a heavy lethargy seemed to steal over him. He happily gave into it, letting it drag him down into sleep, feeling more contented than he could ever remember being.
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A/N - I was asked if I could include more about what's happening in the outside world during this... and while that might make the story more rounded, I don't really plan on doing it for several reasons. First of all, as I stated in the beginning, I don't want this to be forever long like almost everything else I've written on here. This is a little vacation from the Flight universe, but not intended as a full fledged sabbatical. You all know how I get when I start getting detailed. Second reason is because I stated my intention to keep this entirely in Harry's perspective (though I'm obviously starting to test the boundaries of that a bit). Considering how traumatized both Harry and Draco already are, and the fact that they don't necessarily NEED to know, I truly doubt they would keep them informed on what was happening (just as Molly tried to keep them ignorant of Arthur's death). I imagine they would only tell them as much as they felt was absolutely necessary and no more. I would think they would want to simply wait until the war is over before slowly letting them in on the true losses. It would just add to their pain and trauma to keep telling them of everyone they lost as they went along with no end in sight. That would be too much for even those who started out with good mental health. And of course, the lack of information adds to the feeling of being isolated, which I believe would have a significant effect on the course of Harry and Draco's relationship. Do you really see them having anything to do with each other if they were in the thick of things? Anyhow, just thought I'd respond to that here since I imagine many of you have been wondering about it, even if you didn't put it in a review.