A/N: Belated Happy New Year to everyone!
Tuesday, 2nd March 1999
11.19pm
The night air was frigid against his skin. Harry shivered and fished his wand out, casting a quick warming charm. He looked back over his shoulder, seeing Draco dozing on the couch through the window– they were waiting for Kingsley's patronus tonight.
Walking forward, he disappeared into the field and pushed past it. He was tired of waiting, now. It had been weeks, guarding the Burrow, unable to assist the Order. Pausing, he looked up at the moon and sighed– he knew the Order was protecting them, like children. And he hated it.
"Harry! Where are you?" Ron's voice called, vaguely audible. Harry turned around and braced himself. He couldn't be sure– Trust no one, Professor McGonagall had told them.
Pointing his wand out, he replied hesitantly. "Over here."
Ron smiled in relief as he spotted him. Harry held his wand steady. "Listen, mate," Ron said. "They found her–"
"What happened to Gilderoy Lockhart in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?" Harry shifted his stance uneasily as Ron's eyes widened. He took a step away from Harry.
"Obliviation?" he answered uneasily.
Harry's wand faltered. "He obliviated himself," Ron continued slowly, not daring to move.
Harry released his aim, walking over to join him. "Sorry," he mumbled. "So, they found her?"
Ron nodded. They had finally managed to locate her the week before, somewhere in Islington– the Order had finally gone to rescue her three days ago. Naturally, the four had been left behind in the safety of the Burrow, protected by the wards. Harry snorted, wondering how long they could pretend that he didn't fight in the war himself.
"Still alive?" He asked cautiously.
"Died in the escape," Ron replied flatly. Harry winced. "They're guarding Hogwarts, now."
Harry tucked his wand away. "Let's hope that's enough," he muttered under his breath.
Wednesday, 3rd March 1999
4.23am
Draco was awoken in the middle of the night by a searing pain in his left arm, the mark burning him for the second time that week. It crept up through his shoulder and he cursed loudly, pressing his cool hand to the angry red flesh and hissing as the mark darkened.
He wasn't surprised– Tabitha Jones was dead, now. He swallowed, remembering the time Cedric Diggory's body had been lost; The ache of the torture stayed with his father for days, cursing him as he moved through the house. Bleeding through his clothes, staining the white fabric–
His thoughts were cut off as Harry began to thrash on the floor, his eyes flying open. The scar darkened, too, and Harry pressed his fingers gently to it, turning to face him. "Not again," he groaned, still trying to suppress the pain, pressing his lips together and not making another sound.
They lay in a still, resolute silence until it finally subsided.
Wednesday, 3rd March 1999
5.03am
Finally, Draco heard Harry's breathing slow down, drifting off to sleep. He pried his eyes open and stared up at the ceiling again, shifting uneasily.
Something was amiss.
Thursday, 4th March 1999
9.59am
"Harry, I need you to look at this," Hermione said faintly.
Harry held a hand out automatically but Draco snatched it and held it up for them both, dangling it gracefully between his fingers. Harry peered carefully at the text, trying to read it through the tarnished silver. His eyes widened– another change?
"Well?" Draco asked him impatiently, leaning over his shoulder to get a closer look.
Harry passed it back to her, brow furrowing. "These keys lie in the death of the keeper," he said uneasily. Draco huffed and leaned against the back of the couch.
"Helpful," he rolled his eyes sardonically.
"Bloody ominous," Ron added, taking the chain from Hermione. "You sure that's what it says, mate?"
Harry nodded. "What d'you think we should do?"
"Wait," Draco told him. "We're always waiting, dammit!"
"So far, that's kept us alive," Hermione snapped, standing. Ignoring Draco's flush, she cast her patronus, letting it nuzzle her hand.
"Kingsley," she spoke clearly. "We need to call a meeting."
She paused slightly. "Tonight."
Thursday, 4th March 1999
9.24am
He twirled the ring in his fingers, feeling the cool metal dance. They were still protected by a Fidelius charm, hidden in that disgustingly plebeian town. No matter, he thought, closing the ring in his fist. They would be found.
After all, who would be a better keeper than their beloved Harry Potter?
Wednesday, 10th March 1999
7.56pm
He laughed darkly, robes swishing around his ankles as he stepped through the corridor. "He's with Potter again, is he? Perhaps he needs to be reminded of his place."
"If you say it, my Lord."
"Then, you'll find him?" He turns to his friend with glittering eyes. He locks his gaze with the fiery brown, grinning widely.
"Yes, my Lord."
"Good," the smile disappeared and he hissed dangerously, turning back down the corridor.
Monday, 15th March 1999
8.00am
Hermione slammed a book down excitedly in front of Harry, flipping it open. She pointed to a passage filled with annotations, littering the page in Hermione's writing. "Look," she said excitedly. "I found an article here, can you believe it?"
"Where?"
"In the attic," she replied. "There's another case like Draco's here."
Harry raised an eyebrow sceptically. Draco had been trying to use his wand again, feeling it slip away before he could use any of it. He skimmed through the article, eyebrows disappearing into his hair as he read.
"Hermione, I hardly think that 'frequent sex' is going to help his magic," Harry deadpanned, pointing to the text. She flushed deeply, pulling the book away.
"That's not it!" she said, horrified. Harry smirked at her, eyebrows raised suggestively. She groaned. "Shut up, you know I mean the spells."
He gasped, scandalised. "What kind of spells?"
He laughed as she smacked him on the back of his head. Draco came in then with a mug of tea, eyeing them both warily. Harry tried in vain to hold in his laughter as Hermione blushed again, pulling her book back into her arms.
"Draco," she turned to him. "I've found something a bit like yours."
"Like mine?"
"Your case," she said carefully.
He gestured for her to continue, dropping into a chair and sipping his tea. She handed him the book and he read carefully, eyes slowly moving down the page. His eyes hardened as he read, frustration clouding his gaze. Hermione bit her lip watching him, fidgeting.
Monday, 15th March 1999
8.07am
His eyes came to rest on her writing, scribbled clearly in red ink.
The atmosphere chilled and Hermione stiffened. Draco raised an eyebrow, keeping his voice cool. "Test it?"
She winced. "Someone's, er, agreed to test it for us."
Draco's eyes flashed. "Absolutely not," he bit out coldly.
"It could help us," she protested.
"I said no," he snarled.
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "You can't take someone's magic away, Granger!" he stood up, leaning across the table. "Do you know how fucking horrible that is?"
"She's dying of an illness–"
"I don't care," Draco argued. "It's inhumane."
Harry put a hand out onto his arm. "Draco–"
"Fuck off," he hissed, picking his notes up and leaving them alone. Hermione dropped her head into her arms and exhaled.
"That went well," she muttered.
Monday, 15th March 1999
3.09pm
Harry pushed the door open.
"No, for Merlin's sake, Granger!" Draco called without turning around. Harry sighed.
"It's me," Harry said softly, moving toward the bed. He leaned against Draco's back and sat in silence, shuffling through the newspapers. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of the sketch in Draco's lap and chuckled, shaking his head.
Draco rest his weight back slightly, breathing slowly. He sat up abruptly and shifted on the bed to face him, watching him curiously as Harry continued to read. He resisted the urge to glance up, focusing on Mr. Ollivander's face– they had recently opened their shop in Diagon again–
"Why?" Draco asked, Harry finally lifting his head to survey him.
"Hermione," he replied vaguely. Draco snorted.
"You're letting her do it." Incredulity tinged his voice. He folded his arms.
Harry set the Prophet aside, running a hand through his hair. "I need to," he replied honestly, giving Draco a pointed look as he fiddled with his wand. "You– we need your magic back."
"I don't need it–"
"That's bullshit and you know it," Harry shot him down. "Why can't you just–"
"Because it's awful," Draco said in a smaller voice. "This," he gestured to his wand lying lifeless on the bed. "Is awful."
Harry leaned back against the headboard. "She wants to," he told Draco gently. "The girl– she wants to help."
Draco lay down on the bed and stared at the wall. Harry patted his shoulder awkwardly. He slowly relaxed and rolled over, looking up at Harry. "You're sure?"
Harry grinned at him. "Yeah," he said. "I suppose I am."
Grey eyes fixed on him again, flickering. "All right," he finally sighed. "When can I meet her?"
Sunday, 21st March 1999
10.29am
Jones pressed her finger to her lips, turning to lead the way down the dark corridor. They padded behind her, wands drawn as they travelled deeper into St. Mungo's to the Janus Thickey Ward. Draco shoved his hands into the pockets of his borrowed robe, walking alongside them.
Harry offered a comforting smile as they turned another corner. Draco nodded back, turning his eyes back to Jones. They came to stop at a stark white door, out of place in the dark walls of the West Wing, standing out among the shadows. Jones lifted her want tip to the door and it clicked open softly– Draco held this breath.
"She's just awake," she told them under her breath, poking her head into the room.
Hermione stepped forward ad pushed the door open cautiously. Ron wiped his hands on his robe nervously and followed her in, Harry and Draco behind him. They stepped cautiously through the first room, hesitant. Draco gazed cautiously around the white space, plain and empty. He pushed the second door ajar, his eyes coming to rest on the girl, sitting alert in her bed with her bright red hat.
His jaw fell open at the familiar smile on her face. "Elizabeth?"
Her head snapped up, her blue eyes lighting up. "Draco!"
Hermione gave him a questioning look, dropping into a chair beside the bed. She reached out and rest a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "You know him, Lisa?"
She nodded enthusiastically, pushing herself upright on the bed, arranging the sheets around her. Harry rolled his eyes and crossed the room, leaning against the window and shrugging off his Healer's robes. He quirked an eyebrow, curious.
Later, he mouthed to them, turning again to Elizabeth. "What happened to you?" he asked her.
She sighed heavily, picking at the pages of the sketchbook on her lap. "Mother doesn't know," she told them, dropping her voice. "It stopped hurting, though."
Hermione coughed loudly, folding her arms and watching Draco expectantly. The file lay open on the bedside table, filled with incantations– he eyed it wearily, walking over to join the others and resting lightly on the bed.
"Lisa–" Hermione started.
"You haven't visited in so long," she ignored her, talking straight to Draco. "Mother misses you."
"I miss her, too," he said, taking her hand. She smiled nostalgically. "You played so well, Drac–"
"Excuse me," Ron piped up. "Lovely reunion and everything, but we need to hurry."
"Ronald!" Hermione hissed at him.
"No," Draco held a hand up. "He's right."
Hermione glowered at Ron, pulling out her wand reluctantly. Harry flattened himself further against the wall, determined not to laugh. He sobered as Hermione pointed her wand at Lisa dangerously.
Draco breathed slowly as Hermione cast privacy spells around the room, locking them away from prying eyes.
"Right, then."
Sunday, 21st March 1999
11.51am
Her hand shot out to grab his sleeve just as he turned to leave. Lisa pulled her hat off, the limp blond hair draping limply over her shoulder. Draco inhaled sharply, remembering her thick curls when he'd last seen her in Germany, where her family was in hiding.
"Does it hurt?" she asked him, terrified. Hermione's diagnostic spells still glowed on her skin, an unhealthy green tinting the pale flesh.
He shifted in his robes, fighting to keep his gaze steady. She continued to watch him with huge, innocent eyes. Draco sat on the bed again, squeezing her hand.
"Not exactly," he told her honestly, trying to word it right. "It's just... empty."
"Empty?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly.
He sighed and leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek. "It's not so bad," he tried to reassure her. "It comes back, after a while. Like a warmth in your body."
She frowned. "Like a balloon?"
He chuckled. "Yeah," he told her. "Just like that."
Lisa hummed in satisfaction, picking up her sketchbook again. Draco absently wondered what it must have felt like to have magic coursing through his veins– he wasn't sure he knew what that was like, any more.
Hermione poked her head in, "Draco, we're leaving," she told him, dropping her voice. He let go of Lisa's hand and offered her an apologetic smile.
"You seem happier," she told him as he got to his feet.
The heavy feeling settling in his chest as he looked at her, arranged in the hospital bed. "So do you," he told her, pressing a kiss to her hair.
Monday, 22nd March 1999
1.34am
That night, he dreamed of pain.
It hurt, it was bleeding through his pores. It was seeping out of him, leaving nothing but an aching cold behind. He gasped and dropped to his knees as it ate at his skin, drawing away. He dropped his wand in the snow, somewhere–
Rowle was running away, now, laughing. He snarled and dragged his weight forward, ignoring the protests his body cried as he moved through the snow. He reached out for his wand and aimed it at his retreating figure, barely lifting his arm. It hurt, searing through his hand as it closed around the wood tighter.
"Sectumsempra," he whispered. The pain rushed forward into the spell, and then it was gone. Rowle continued to run, unharmed. Alarmed, he pushed himself to his feet and ran after him, taking aim again. "Stupefy!" he yelled. Rowle turned and grinned deviously, pointing his wand back at Draco.
"Crucio," he laughed as Draco's form crumpled again.
Finally, it began to subside, fading away as the warmth touched his skin. Someone was calling his name, someone was shaking him. He forced himself to pry his eyes open, breathing heavily and covered in sweat, thrashing against–
"Oh god, we shouldn't have let her do it," he gasped out. "It hurts, it hurts so much."
Someone was still calling his name.
"He took– it just takes everything, it's so cold–"
"Draco!" the voice cut through, shaking him violently. Green eyes flickered into focus.
"Harry," he said, shocked and still breathing heavily.
"It's not your fault," Harry told him immediately, serious. Draco nodded dumbly, still trying to shake the image from his head. "It's not your fault."
"Right," he got out, panting. "Rowle's."
"Rowle cursed you?"
He nodded.
"You okay?" the reply came, worry in his voice. He was watching him carefully, checking his pulse. "I heard– well, you were yelling, so I got up and..." Harry babbled as Draco caught his breath, rolling onto his side. He felt his heartbeat slow again and put a hand on Harry's arm.
"I'm fine," he told him. "Don't worry."
Harry relaxed visibly. "Okay," he said, releasing him and moving away from the bed. "Let me know if you need anything."
Draco caught his wrist instinctively. "Stay," he blurted.
"Here?" Harry asked him cautiously. "With you?"
"No, no, no," Draco replied, putting his head in his hands. "Just forget it."
But Harry was already sliding in beside him, shifting the blankets around. He grabbed a pillow and tucked his arm under, closing his eyes.
"Good night," he said sleepily.
Draco pushed the thoughts of Elizabeth's bright red hat away and slept, inching into Harry's warmth. He was safe, he tried to remind himself. He was safe here.
Psst! This is a short chapter because the next will be the longest so far... Just to average things out, I suppose.
Please leave a review! :3
