10

you cast a spell on me

Two weeks later, Harry pulls Draco aside to speak to him, "I want to talk more about the bracelet today, it triggered some strong memories for you and I think it's time. It will help if you face it, you need to accept your past and acknowledge that its over so you can move on."

Draco pales, "Please tell me you aren't serious."

Harry gives him a sympathetic look and Draco hates it, "I'm sorry, it'll help if you talk about it."

Draco twitches at his words, an echo of cruel laughter whispers in his ear and Draco takes a step back, wrapping his arms around himself.

You're broken, Draco. I should know, I broke you. You broke so beautifully.

"Draco, are you alright?" Harry asks, concern in his face and, for a moment, his face distorts to the cruel face of his father and Draco lets out a shuddering breath, clenching his hands into tight fists.

"Draco?"

Draco stands there, stiffly, staring blankly ahead and, for a moment, Harry fears he's triggered another episode. "Yeah...okay, I think I can do that." The blond finally says, quietly, and Harry sags in relief.

"Are you sure?" He gives him a suspicious look.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Draco offers him a weak smile.

Harry nods his head, worry still in his eyes but he sits in the chair facing the couch and waits until Draco sits next to Blaise to ask, "Okay, how long have you had the bracelet?"

"For as long as I can remember," Draco fiddles with the silver bracelet, "My father gave it to me."

"As a present?" Harry ask.

"As a source of comfort." Draco replies.

"Comfort?" Harry asks, tapping his chin, "That seems odd for a man such as Lucius Malfoy. He doesn't strike me as the sentimental type."

"He isn't," Draco agrees, he wets his lips. He was such a naive child. "That's why I was ecstatic to have it."

"And now?"

"I hate it." He replies, truthfully, and the bracelet warms up a bit.

"If you hate it, then, why not take it off?" Harry asks, his face impassive.

"Its a reminder of my past."

"Is that why you keep it on? Do you cling to your past?"

You scream so beautifully, my Dragon.

Draco shakes his head, "I don't want to talk about that, yet."

"Okay," Harry says, easily, he shift in his chair and looks down at his notes. "Are you willing to take it off?"

"No," Draco says, firmly. "No more about the bracelet."

"Draco, you'll have to face your past and I think we have to start by taking that bracelet off, it is only reminding—"

"No more!" Draco shouts, his eyes are clenched closed. "No more, I said, I won't take off the bracelet so no more."

"Fine, we'll talk about it another time. Let's talk about your childhood, then," Harry says, calmly, "Just tiny bits, yeah?"

"Alright," He chanced a glance at Blaise who gives him an encouraging smile. "There isn't much really, before Hogwarts, my mother was usually at some auction or gala in France while my Father was out on business."

"So, you were left alone?"

"Well, technically I was left with the house elves." he frowns as he picks at a stray thread on his jeans.

"And did you have OCD then, as well?" Harry asks, writing something down.

"I've had it for as long as I remembered," Draco mumbles, he felt so redundant. "It was mostly a sense of comfort, I thought there was something wrong with me and that's why my parents didn't want anything to do with me."

"What did you do?"

"I used to shower a lot — at least four times a day," Draco sighs, "I thought that my parents didn't want me because I had some sort of disease so I made sure that I was always clean. " He could see Blaise stiffen next to him, his hands clenched tightly.

"How did that make you feel?"

Draco looks up at him, slowly, "Made me feel?"

"Yes, you had to feel resentful or angered, at least." Harry says, gently.

"Why would I, it was my fault they were never there?" Draco looks at him in confusion, "If I had been better—"

"But you did all those things but yet you still were alone," Harry cuts in, "Maybe, it was more your parents than you that was the problem."

"I—" He shakes in head, "I don't know."

"It's okay, Draco," Harry smiles kindly, "You're doing great. I think to help you control your OCD you need to be aware of what you do first."

"Half the time I don't even realize I'm doing it," Draco says with a frown, "It's compulsive, Harry." he adds, dryly causing Harry to roll his eyes in exasperation.

"You do compulsive things to avoid your fears, Draco," Harry says, "By confronting those fears you'll learn not to depend on a ritual to comfort you or, even, numbers."

"But—"

"When Blaise leaves the room, do you realize that you scratch at your arm three times?" Harry asks, "Or that you check each tap before we go on a morning walk because you fear of the flat getting flooded?"

Draco's body shook, "If I don't, he won't come back and we'll drown if I don't."

"Draco, that's irrational," Harry grabs a hold of his trembling hands, "He'll come back even if you don't kiss him three times or any other rituals you do in threes. Once you get over your fear of people leaving you, the better you won't need your compulsive rituals."

"How?" Draco chokes out.

"Do you like musical instruments?" Harry asks, "Playing can help release your compulsion to do repetitive actions and free your mind a bit."

"I can play the piano." Draco mutters.

"Good, Draco, that's good." Harry rubs his thumb over his knuckles in soothing circles and Draco tries to refrain himself from counting each repetition. "AT least, three times a week."

"I'll try but please, my thing with Blaise...I need to do it or I'll go insane."

"You'll be fine, Draco," Harry assures, turning to the Blaise he adds, "You can't give Draco his three kisses in the morning anymore before you leave. It will help him realize that you'll come back even without the ritual."

Draco wretches his hands from his grip and shakes his head, "No! No! No! It'll be bad luck, you can't! He'll die, he'll die!"

"It's okay, Draco," Harry says over his shouts, "You'll get through it, I believe in you. We both do."

"You're still up?" Harry looks up and over to where Blaise is standing, fully clothed and hugging a cup of tea to his chest.

"Er, yeah," Harry says, scooting over as Blaise walks to sit next to him. "I had some work to finish. You're going out?"

"I have to," He leans back against the couch and closes his eyes. "I have to go to work in a few."

"Odd hour."

"Tell that to Natasha," He snorts, "The witch insist that I come now."

"Something happened at Mungo's?" Harry asks, shuffling the parchments in front of him and signing a few.

"I suppose so, who knows what she's has planned for me," Blaise mutters, looking over at him.

"She isn't very nice," Harry smiles a bit. "But she's good at what she does."

Blaise hums in agreement before setting his cup down on the table and sighs, "I've been meaning to say this but thank you—he's gotten better since you've taken over."

Harry shrugs, "It's nothing really and I am not nearly done."

"Good, we need you." He shuts his eyes and shifts a bit, "I've been really busy lately and it's only going to get worse with the major case we have, I could use all the help I can get."

Harry feels warm at the confession and smiles at him, "Thanks, I'm glad I can be helpful."

Blaise hums again before he's out, breathing lightly next to him and Harry shakes his head in amusement, setting an alarm for two hours with a flick of his wand before he turns back to his work, he needed to get them signed and into Mungo's by the morning and he wasn't nearly done, he bites the end of the quill as he reads over one before signing the appropriate line.

He continues like this for quite some time, the silence is soothing as Blaise sleeps next to him and the fire crackles across from them, keeping them warm. He is so deep in his work, he is startled when he feels Blaise's head loll to the side and fall on his shoulder and he breathes out, trying not to shift when he realize that the man was still asleep.

"Great," He mutters as he pokes Blaise in the side but gets no reaction, he can already feel his shoulder going numb under the weight so he shifts and pulls Blaise's head onto his lap and sighs in relief when the movement doesn't wake him.

Even though he is comfortable now, Harry doesn't continue to work, the parchments he need to sign is set next to him as he watches Blaise sleep. His eyes tracing the lines of his sharp cheekbones and the smooth, caramel skin that makes for a rather pretty picture.

He runs a hand through the man's silky, curly hair in a sort of trance, his stomach twists painfully and his hearts begins to thud loudly in his ear. It's a weird sensation and he doesn't understand any of it but he pushes it to the back of his mind as he continues to watch the man sleep for what seems like hour but was only minutes and he feels happy.

He places a soft kiss on Blaise's temple and closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath of something fresh and earthy and entirely Blaise. He allows the feelings to wash over him and it leaves him breathless as he pulls away, shivering as Blaise sleeps on, unaware of the going on inside of Harry.

Harry groans, then, and throws his head back against the couch, his hands still tangled in the tresses of Blaise's hair but he doesn't want to let go. He stares up at the ceiling, blankly, and wills his heart to stop pounding so fiercely, "Shit, what am I doing?"