Title: Learning to Love
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this for fun and not profit.
Rating: M
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Warnings: suicidal thoughts, abuse, homosexual relationships
Summary: Harry is suicidal and dangerously close to the edge as he loses control over his expanding magical powers. Draco finds himself loosing strength after suffering at the hands of his manic father. Can the two boys find hope where there seems to be none?
Chapter Four: Holding Back
--HP--
Silver eyes gazed into his own, as he leaned forward closer and closer to the blurry face before him. He was so close that he could almost taste the sweet peppermint on his breath and he could feel the warmth against his lips. He breathed the scent and the moment in deeply enjoying the sensations that
Harry's eyes fluttered shut as he relished the warmth of the other person's body melting against him and the heat of the other person's breath on his lips. He couldn't remember ever having been as secure in his entire life as he was in this single moment.
The kiss deepened as Harry lost himself in the feeling of the other person's lips covering his own and the movement of hands across his body. He jumped as he felt a warm, soft tongue slide across his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from deep inside him. At this his own lips parted and the warm, muscular body pushed more solidly against him.
Suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head, the warmth was lifted from Harry's shaking body. His eyes snapped open, taking in his surroundings and having a difficult time adjusting to the unexpected findings. After a moment or two he came to the disappointing realization that those sweet silver eyes and the delicious warmth of their bodies pressed together was a dream. A wonderful, magical dream, but a dream none the less.
He looked around the unfamiliar room, sighing as he remembered everything that had happened the previous night. His head was throbbing, but for the first time in the past twenty-four hours he couldn't feel the loss of control that had been plaguing him. He just felt content. It was odd.
It's not weird, Harry silently reprimanded himself, I just got used to the feeling. This is normal. And he clung to that thought as he paced his new rooms. He wasn't really sure what he was expected to do when he was in the castle before classes began. Still, he felt more at home in this magical old building than anywhere else that he had ever been. He sighed as he sank into the warm couch, curling up in front of the fire, staring into its depths. The fire was warm and only increased his sense of peace.
As the fire flickered calmly he thought back to the dream that he'd been so suddenly woken from. It had been so intimate and comfortable. He couldn't remember ever having seen eyes like that before, even though they looked so familiar. He couldn't remember who the dream was about, but he could certainly feel the effects of the dream coursing through his viens. He knew that it wasn't normal for him to wake up feeling so melancholy due to the loss of a dream.
No. Harry was more the type to wake up sweating as if he'd run a mile to escape the tragedy of his dreams. He was not the type to have a peaceful dream in which he felt safe and loved. For no reason at all the feeling of calm left Harry more worried and confused than most of his nightmares.
Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't hear the knock on the door until it was a persistent banging that rattled the hinges of the door slightly. He pulled the door open and saw Professor Snape standing impatiently in the hall, one hand still raised as if to strike the door once more. The greasy-haired man lowered his hand and stepped across the threshold, easily side stepping the younger boy. Harry looked at the man, slightly perturbed, but he quickly got over the intrusion. He had, after all, been expecting this visitor. Who else would be teaching him how to raise the shields around his mind? But it didn't change the sinking feeling that he got, knowing his record for being able to learn from this man. It wasn't good.
--DM--
Draco Malfoy arose the next morning with no memory of the dream that had awoken him the night before. He felt shaken and confused, as if something of consequence had just happened under his nose, but he didn't remember a thing.
He got himself ready for the day slowly, relishing in the warm water of his shower and the minty taste of the toothpaste. When he went to get dressed he pulled the doors open and stood in front of the lines upon lines of freshly pressed and hung clothing in nothing by a small white towel. He languished in every moment of this day. It was the first that he had felt up to acting every bit of the aristocrat that he was, and he was determined to enjoy it.
He never did understand why his father would bring him up to take pride in appearances, nice things and of course in his ability to exceed the abilities of others if only to take those teachings away through the beatings. It made no sense to him why a man who valued appearance and status above all else would beat his son to the point of marring the physical beauty. Draco was simply thankful that he was blessed with magic, so he would heal these wounds quickly. He would be mortified if his friends ever saw him like he had been the past few weeks. It was not dignified.
When he finally selected his outfit he made his way down to the most peaceful room in the house – the library. Draco loved to sit in the massive library in the Manor and page through the tombs, taking in ancient ideas and new spells. He was not, as many at school thought, as interested in the dark magic as he was those spells that connected people. The human interactions described in many of the rituals were completely unfamiliar to Draco, possibly because he'd never really been able to trust someone on the level that these forms of magic required.
He always got lost in thought during his hours in the secluded room, imagining how his life could be different.
--HP--
Hours had passed in which Harry was showing no signs of improvement. He couldn't block Snape out of his mind the previous year and he was not faring much better now. Quite the opposite, he was loosing control of his magic quite rapidly. Snape was only infuriating him to the point he let out a deep growl and the sound emanated pure magic potential.
Snape flinched as the scalding magical anger swept over him, burning him to the core but leaving no visible markings. He had tried to explain to Harry what the magic seeping out of him was, but Harry didn't really understand how or why he was, for lack of a better explanation, leaking magic. He was also not sure if he wanted all of it trapped inside of him. He'd worked so hard to open up to his friends and allow himself to show his emotions that he felt by bottling up his magic he would be cutting himself off from his friends.
After hours of practice Harry sat back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes. What happened next shocked both of the men. Harry felt a rush of warmth and realized that the swirling potential had found its place once more. Neither man understood how or why it had happened, but Harry felt that it had something to do with Snape's relenting. Harry smiled to himself and hoped with all his heart that this would mean their session was through.
"What did you do?" Professor Snape asked, with only a hint of the curiosity that he was feeling.
Harry opened his eyes, shaking his head lightly, "I have no idea, I just closed my eyes and then it all flowed back into me." He looked imploringly at his unwanted mentor, hoping he'd find some answers in the cold black eyes but instead he only gathered more confusion. The other man, for the first time in Harry's memory, looked utterly bewildered. It was suddenly very clear to Harry that this was another thing that was going to make him different. He had held a hope that this palpable magic was a natural part of maturing, that he was just suffering more than other people tended to; however the Professor's eyes shattered all the hope that remained. Harry felt the anger welling up inside him again as he snapped, "I'm never going to get this down on my own, even Professor Dumbledore and yourself have no clue what is going on."
"Mr. Potter, just because we are unfamiliar with your condition does not mean we don't know what is going on. This is something that you, once again, must be willing to work on. I have seen your stupid pride and your refusal to work with me; however, as Dumbledore has to prepare for the return of your insolent classmates I am stuck with you." The Potions Master's voice was silkily dark and dangerous. His eyes flashed with momentary anger, before he seemed to realize that provoking the younger boy was not a smart thing to do at the moment.
--DM--
Draco wandered down the long street in Diagon Alley, peering into each of the novelty shops as he passed by them. He knew that he was no longer shopping productively, as he had only managed to get half of his school supplies in the four or five hours that he'd spent in the magically concealed area. He was taking his time because he felt comfortable, once again surrounded by the voices of other people. He would never admit to missing the presence, as he was one known for being cold and reserved, but he did none the less.
He passed by a small shop that was hardly noticeable among the ostentatious shop fronts surrounding it; however it caught his eye. There were beautiful gems glittering in the window of the shabby shop. He was surprised that he had never seen the small shop before, as he tended to take his time in the magical oasis, but the thought was fleeting and he quickly made his way to the entrance.
He pulled the door open, admiring the charm of the bell as it announced his entrance. He looked around, admiring the beauty of the gems set in various pieces. He intended to do just that, admire the jewels and move on, but just as he was preparing to walk out the door a particular piece caught his eye, much like the shop did originally.
"If you wouldn't mind," Draco spoke up, gaining the shopkeeper's attention, "I would like to look at this piece right here." He pointed through the glass casing, showing the young man what he desired.
"Very nice choice. May I enquire as to the occasion?" The young shopkeeper enquired quite politely as he pulled the item out of the cabinet. Draco smiled, not really wanting to talk partly because he was asking himself the same question.
"No occasion," he drawled, as he reached a hand out to the pendant hanging from the shopkeeper's hand. He cradled it in his palm, the delicate silver dragon glittered in the dull light of the store, it's ruby red eyes seeming to glow as he moved it slightly in his hand.
The shopkeeper's eyes were the only thing that gave away his surprise, he took the pendant back from Draco's grasp and carefully wrapped it up in a small black box.
Draco paid the man and left the small shop with a satisfied smile on his face. He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do with the gem, but he did know it was going to be special. He completed the rest of his shopping in peace, preparing for his final week back in the manor.
I am sorry that it took so long for this chapter to come out. I got busy with work and volunteer hours recently.
Please Review, I really want to see what people have to say. I get messages when you add this to your lists, and I wanna know what you're thinking of it!