AN: Hi guys! I've missed you! But seriously, I know it has been months since I uploaded anything for you. I don't want to weight you down with details, I will add more at the end, but I want you to know I am still here and still writing this story. There is a lot left to come, more mysteries to unravel, and amazing Drarry moments coming for our boys. Thanks for continuing to read, despite my schedule. So without further ado, here is the next chapter!
Chapter 11
It's a beautiful day, with the sun shining bright through the bare winter trees, as Draco strolls along the winding paths of his family garden. As always, the petals of his favorite purple roses are in full bloom with their bright silver edges sending sparkles scattering over every available surface. The pale lilac of his roses stands out against the backdrop of crisp, white, freshly fallen snow. Yet, despite being in his favorite place in the world, he can feel that something's wrong. He isn't sure if it's his imagination, but he thinks he hears screaming coming from inside. Then, like ice water in his veins, he realizes, it's her. Without thinking, his legs begin to propel him forward. He has to get to her, he has to protect her. Then, to add to his growing panic, his left arm begins to sear with pain. The Dark Lord. But he can't stop now, otherwise he won't be able to save her. As his arm throbs in pain, he throws open the doors to the Manor to try to find her. He has to find her. Upon entering, he spots his mother. Taking a few tentative steps forward, he sees that she's crying, and he knows why. The Dark Lord is here. Without a second thought, he sprints down the nearest hall to the long stretch of rooms, at the end of which he knows he will find her. Another scream pierces the air, the only sound aside from Draco's frantic footfalls and his own heavy breathing. Despite how fast he is running, the door never seems to get any closer. As he runs, time begins to slow around him, and no matter how hard he pushes he can't go any faster. With ten feet left to go, the entire hallway lights up an all too familiar green. He knew he's too late. Reaching the door he throws it open and sees her cold, silver eyes…
'Cassie!" Draco yelled out. She was gone, had been for years, but the dream still plagued him many nights. He didn't even bother trying to figure out where he was or what time it was. Without thinking, he pulled his legs up tightly to his chest and cried until his eyes went dry. It wasn't fair, and he was honestly beginning to think things would never be okay. Not that he deserved for them to. Often he wished the Dark Lord had taken him instead of her. After lying in bed for what felt like an eternity, he realized he had to get up and start the day. Casting a quick Tempus, he saw that it was well after ten in the morning. He groaned inwardly. Moping around and feeling sorry for himself all day wouldn't bring her back. Besides, she would want better for him than that. With a large breath he pushed himself up and swung his legs to the floor.
Looking at the calendar on the wall, he realized that it was already Saturday the 25th of October. He had been in the Black House for a week. Most of his time since arriving had been spent reading, wandering the large home, and working on his article. It was called "Ancient Tome of Horrors," one of the more ridiculous pieces he had come up with. The great thing about his job was that, as long as he could fabricate some kind of data on the subject and it had an interesting title, the magazine would publish it. It certainly beat any career his father would have dreamed up for him. There were times that he wished he could contribute more to the world than bullshit stories that only the most pathetically gullible witches and wizards believed, but he knew he wasn't good enough to be something more. Even if he wanted to, the public was never going to embrace an ex-Death Eater.
Despite having next to nothing to do this week, there had been a whirlwind of activity happening around him. Every other day he was being ushered upstairs due to some big, secret meeting in the basement with some important someone-or-other. Though he assumed they were talking about things like the attempt on his life and the Dark Collective, for all he knew they could be discussing the latest trends in ladies' hats. Either way, it was all fairly boring to him. But he supposed boring was better than dead.
Then there was the other matter weighing heavily on his mind. His most recent late night encounter with his host. Most of the week, Potter had been out of the house or locked away in these covert meetings. When he was around he spent a lot of time talking with Sirius or in his room. If Draco didn't know any better, he would think he was being ignored or avoided. Not that he would be surprised. The other night had been interesting to say the least. And since he didn't have anything better to do, most of his free time had been spent mulling over what had happened.
His first day there had been frustrating. This was honestly the last place he wanted to be, but he also knew he had no other choice. His pride made the help difficult to accept, but he was grateful that at least someone was looking out for him for a change. After his argument with Potter the morning he arrived, he had taken a shower and then lay on his bed. He wasn't sure when he drifted off, but the next thing he knew it was quite dark and the silence of the house pressed in tightly around him. Feeling his stomach cramp up, he realized he again hadn't eaten in far too long, so he went back to that kitchen he found on his first stay. Getting there, he didn't even think to look around. He went straight for the refrigerator, in which he found nothing. Just as he was getting ready to give up and go back upstairs, he was jolted by a voice behind him. Hunger had clearly dulled his normally quite astute sense of observation. When he turned around he saw a bright-eyed Potter offering him a bottle of his favorite firewhisky and a genuine smile that made his stomach flip.
Looking back now, he probably should have refused. Five years ago he would have laughed straight in his rosy-cheeked face. But this was not five years ago, and he certainly needed the drink. He remembered making Potter blush more than once that evening, which he decided was something he wanted to make happen as often as he could. More than once he found himself honestly laughing and enjoying himself. It had been quite the pleasant surprise. Then, after too many drinks and not enough food, something unexpected happened. Just as the night was coming to a close, Harry's arm had slid down the length of his own. The sensation was unusual yet almost familiar. His skin was warm and sent sparks of electricity throughout his entire body. It was all at once unnerving and addicting. His eyes had immediately locked on Harry.
The other man seemed to be frozen, looking at their arms. He waited, wanting to see what Harry would do. In that moment, Draco realized he wouldn't have moved if he could. In fact, he hardly even breathed. In that instant time seemed to slow around him. Though he never would have imagined during school, there was something intoxicating about being that close to this man. Then again, looking back, maybe there always had been. After all, Draco never could seem to stay away, even then. The only thing that shook him from his transfixion was the other man's gaze meeting his own. Harry's eyes were unsettling, and made Draco warm with anticipation. Tonight, those eyes were bright and slightly glazed, but there was a fearful uncertainty in them. Yet none of that could detract from how profoundly green they were. Draco suspected that jewelers would be jealous they could not get their emeralds to rival the color Potter hid behind his ridiculous glasses and far too long fringe. It took everything for Draco to not brush the aforementioned hair away from the eyes still boring into him, as if seeking an answer to some unaired question
In the end, he had been the one to break the spell and look away. When Potter called his name a moment later, there was a moment when he almost thought that some imagined tension was about to snap and send their bodies crashing into each other in a way he definitely had not been dreaming about ever since, but it never did. Instead, Potter simply said good night. Though he would never admit it, that night was one of the most uncomfortable night's sleeps he had had since having to control his own urges in the Slytherin dormitory at school.
Potter had hardly spoken to him since then, save for a few hellos and good mornings as they passed each other in the halls. Draco shook his head to bring him back to the present day. And as Draco walked out into the hall for his morning shower, the trend continued. Harry was just coming down the stairs and froze. Were Draco in a better mood, he probably would have found it entertaining the way the others eyes slowly registered Draco's bare chest and a faint blush stained his cheeks. As it were, he was not in a good mood, so the normally entertaining look simply made him smirk. "Are you going to keep staring Potter? I have a camera if you'd prefer. I hear pictures last longer."
Harry flushed harder at the statement. "I - erm - I mean I wasn't. Oh just sod off, Malfoy," he managed to stammer out, before storming off back down the stairs.
Draco snorted as he watched the black hair bound ungracefully down the stairs, each footfall louder than necessary in the otherwise severe silence of the house. Despite the years that had gone by, nothing quite brightened his day as much as riling up Harry Potter, even now. Or maybe, especially now.
Fourty minutes later, after a very hot shower, he was dressed and ready. Having shaken off much of his temper and the residual hopelessness his nightmares always left behind, he felt more able to face the day. With a sigh he realized that he should probably go try to be nice to Potter. Friends, he had said. Or at least they needed to get along. Though Draco suspected the idea an impossibility, it couldn't kill him to try. So down he went, in search of the bugger. The last thing he needed was a defensive, moody Potter running around while they lived under the same roof.
His first stop was the kitchen, which was surprisingly vacant. After grabbing a shiny green apple from a basket on the counter, he decided to try the sitting room, the parlor, and eventually knocked on his door, all of which came up empty. Lastly, now getting frustrated, he headed for the backyard. He hadn't seen it yet, but he suspected it was rather large, if the size of the rest of the house was any indication.
Stepping out onto a partially covered terrace, he saw that his expectations were not unfounded. If anything, it was even larger than his suspicions The backyard area was deceptively huge. Just outside the doors was a huge wooden deck with comfortable looking lounge chairs scattered around a large fire pit. The deck had stone stairs that arched down to a beautiful expanse of trees, flowers, and hedges. Throughout the entire grassy area below a small stream wound with water babbling over rocks and ending in a small pond covered in lily pads and reeds. There was also a stone pathway that occasionally bridged over the stream. It was a surprisingly beautiful in its simplicity, and it made his chest slightly ache for the sprawling grounds and lavish gardens of the Manor. He was disappointed he hadn't come outside until now. He had forgotten how good it felt just to be outside.
Just as he was getting ready to go down the stairs and explore further, he noticed something moving in the far corner of the grounds, and it made his stomach do a back flip. Strutting out from behind a particularly large hedge was an all too familiar looking hippogriff. The creature seemed to notice him, and cocked its head questioningly. Though he told himself he was being ridiculous, he still found himself slowly backing away from the ledge he had been leaning over. As he did, he heard a sound from behind him that sounded suspiciously like snickering. He whipped around ready to tell off whoever was behind him, but found the words caught in his throat as he turned around.
Potter was leaning against the doorframe, legs crossed at the ankles with one hand firmly on his hip. His lips were pulled into a cocky smirk and his eyes sparkled not so innocently behind his silly glasses. He was wearing a simple grey jumper over dark jeans, and Even Draco had to admit that the man standing in front of him was a far cry from the messy, lanky boy he had been in school. This realization was doing dangerous things to Draco's nerves.. He had to physically shake himself out of staring this time. "What's so funny, golden boy?" he quipped, the sound of it falling flat even to his ears.
"Good to see Buckbeak can still scare the crap out of you Malfoy. Maybe you haven't grown up as much as I thought," Potter said, voice far too mischievous for Draco's liking.
"I'm not scared, you twat. I just don't favor that thing," he said, thrusting a finger roughly toward the winged creature now pecking about the grass, "trying to kill me again."
Potter's smiled beamed at Draco, making his breath hitch and sending a warming jolt through his chest that he found himself hard pressed to ignore. "Always the dramatics with you," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Buckbeak is not going to kill you, and he most certainly didn't try to back then."
Draco grumbled under his breath a bit before replying quietly. "Still broke my bloody arm though."
Harry snorted in reply. "Yes I forgot how delicate your poor Malfoy sensibilities are."
Draco internally seethed. He had been waiting all week to talk to Potter properly, and this was most certainly not what he had in mind. "Whatever, golden boy. I just can't believe you gave the murderous bird a damn name."
Harry rolled his eyes again and chuckled before pushing himself to a fully upright position. "Whatever, prat.F irst of all, I didn't name him. Hagrid did. Second, I was just coming to tell you that Healer Finnigan is here to check up on you. He's in the parlor with Sirius."
"What for? I'm fine," Draco said, puzzled. It had been a month since he had been poisoned. What could he possibly have to check on?
"Dunno, you're just going to have to go find out, aren't you?" Harry replied, with a smug grin that did nothing to detract from the attractiveness of his strong features. Draco scowled, noticing this. Perfect Potter even had a perfect face. Bloody git.
Draco pushed right past Potter on his way inside, bumping his shoulder a bit harder than was necessary in the process. The combination of sexual frustration and actual irritation had officially made him pissed, but all the action seemed to do to Potter was make him snicker again. Draco sent him a deadly glare in return, but the stupid prat just followed along behind him unaffected. Loudly huffing in exasperation, Draco took the time to attempt to control his features at least before stepping into the parlor to greet the unexpected guest.
Upon entering the kitchen, he was surprised by the man he saw. For starters, the Healer in question was much younger than Draco had been expecting. Most he had met were older, portly women who always seemed cross about something. This man was anything but. He was tall and lean with neat brown hair and dark eyes. There was no way he was more than a few years Draco's senior and was actually rather attractive. When the man spotted Draco and Harry, he stopped what he had been saying and flashed them both a small smile. "Ah Mr. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to see you standing this time around." Draco noted he had a rather thick Irish accent. Also there was something oddly familiar about him that Draco couldn't place.
"Yes, I'd have to say I agree. You seem to know me, though I don't know you," Draco drawled.
The Healer merely laughed. "You're correct, Mr. Malfoy. Where are my manners? My name is Healer Finnigan, though you may call me Jace."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Potter's jaw clench and his eyes flash with rage. He wasn't sure why, but Potter didn't seem to like this man. Draco felt a ghost of a smile cross his lips, before snapping his mask into place. Knowing there was someone who got on Potter's nerves apparently more than Draco at the moment was not a detail to be overlooked. "Pleasure. So, Chosen One here tells me you need to check me out?" Draco questioned, feeling Potter glare at the back of his head.
Jace smiled with an unreadable look in his eyes that left Draco feeling rather suspicious."You're right, Mr. Malfoy-"
"Draco. Just call me Draco."
"As you wish. Yes, Draco, I came here to check on you. Though I know some time has gone by since you came out of your coma, I still would like to run some basic tests to see if there was any permanent damage or anything else I need to fix as a result of the poison. Normally this would have been done fairly promptly upon you waking, but seeing as how you decided to leave in a bit of a rush and no one knew how to contact you, my methods had to be amended." Draco felt himself begin to flush as Finnigan continued. "No matter though, this shouldn't take long."
With a small nod from Sirius, both he and Harry left the room. Potter's eyes met Draco's briefly, looking like he wanted to protest, but then he looked down at his feet and padded back out after his godfather.
Once alone, Jace motioned for Draco to sit on a transfigured couch by the fire. Draco scowled, not liking the wordless command, but did as he was told. Upon sitting, Jace immediately began casting a series of spells Draco didn't recognize as beams of different colored lights wrapped around him. He could feel a warm tingly sensation working it's way through his body. He found that it was quite intriguing. This kind of magic wasn't really taught at Hogwarts, and he found that he wanted to know more. "So what exactly are you doing?"
Jace briefly paused his casting, quirking an eyebrow questioningly before giving a small smile. "Well, I'm doing some simple tests on you to determine if your body has fully cleared itself of the poison and whether or not there have been any long term side effects." At that, he cast another spell that caused all of the multicolored strands around Draco to still, even as the Healer lowered his wand. "You see, you were not simply poisoned with one thing. There were a total of three main ingredients, working together to form a toxin much more difficult to cure. You see this set of blue and gold strands here?" He tapped on two of the strands of magic with his wand, causing them to shimmer. "They are for the first of two Muggle-type toxins. These strands in particular link to a poison called conium, though you may know it as hemlock. A few leaves ingested are lethal, so my guess is this poison only had about one leaf. Enough to cause partial paralysis and begin slowly shutting down your respiratory and cardiac systems. Nasty way to go. The gold strand is checking for any further presence in your blood and the blue for lasting side effects." He did a quick spell and pulled a series of numbers and symbols Draco recognized into the air. This action caused the colored tendrils to fade.
"Hey, I know those symbols. We learned those in Advanced Arithmancy," Draco noted, admittedly fascinated by what he was seeing. He just barely resisted the urge to reach out and touch the fading symbols.
Jace smiled a bit before continuing. "Advanced Arithmancy? Interesting. I'm surprised you studied it. Yes, they are some basic calculations that tell me of your status. The first string of numbers let me know that the hemlock is indeed out of your system. The second string tells me that there may still be some lingering shortness of breath. I would suggest some light exercise to get the air flowing more readily." Draco could remember having some difficulty breathing, but he had just blamed it on Duncan's smoking habit. "Now these purple and green tendrils are linked to the poison called belladonna, or deadly nightshade. This is another extremely deadly poison. I'm guessing that simply a few drops of the juice of one of these berries were used. This amount would have made you sweat profusely, shake uncontrollably, and become extremely confused. I'm also willing to bet that this is what caused you to lose consciousness." As he spoke, he again pulled numbers and symbols from the shimmering strands, and then the strands faded away as the others had. "Again, it appears that all of the poison is out of your system. The only lingering effects you may feel are occasional headaches. Those should subside on their own with a week or two."
Draco snorted indignantly. "Well, as long as I'm stuck here with Potter I have a feeling those headaches will last the duration of my stay."
Jace smiled at the comment. "Perhaps. Now these two strands here, the red and silver ones, these relate to the poison that concerns me the most. It is a highly illegal Wizarding poison that I have only had the displeasure of dealing with once before, called paralsomnus. It is derived from the roots of the Venomous Tentacula plant whose effects include intense hallucinations and organ failure. But what makes this particular poison so devious is that it is tapered with the juice of a sopophorous bean."
Draco gasped slightly. "That's in the Draught of Living Death. Why would they add that to this poison?"
With a quirk of his eyebrow, Jace smiled slightly. "You are very bright Mr. Malfoy—Draco. Most people would not have known that ingredient at all, much less what it was in. Anytime you add this bean to a poison, it slows the effects of all the other toxic elements while lulling the person into a state halfway between being awake and asleep. I believe the reason it was added to this particular poison was so that the effects could kill you agonizingly slowly while putting you in a state close to sleep. It only would have taken a few drops to have its intended effect. Had Mr. Potter not been there that day, it is my professional opinion that you would have been paralyzed, in a state near sleep with your internal organs slowly shutting down. You would have been in extreme pain and have died within 24 hours. It would have been, literally, a waking nightmare until your death."
Draco was speechless. Whoever was trying to kill him had concocted a poison meant to terrorize him until he died. The thought was sobering. "That's horrible," he stated, unable to articulate anything else.
Jace's face took on an unusually sombre expression. "Yes, it is horrible. But these numbers show that not only is it out of your system completely, but also that the final poison had no long term effects. You are, as I suspected, safe from the poison."
Draco swallowed, though he felt his throat had gone completely dry. He decided he didn't need to know anymore about what could have happened to him. "So what is this last white strand for?"
"Oh yes, this strand." Jace tapped the almost ethereal tendril with his wand causing it to glow rather brightly and making Draco's body feel warm from the inside out. "This strand is simply checking if there are any other foreign magical signatures, spells, poisons, or otherwise within your system. But you seem to be in luck. There are no foreign traces of magic in your system. Had there been, the pure white of the strand would have been stained with different colors depending on what was in your system and it's severity. You have officially been cleared."
"Thank Merlin," Draco said, with only a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Thinking about the poison again, he could feel cold fear pooling around his spine. It never occurred to him just how dangerous it could be. As he thought this, he remembered something the Healer had mentioned. "Oh, Jace, one question. You mentioned having dealt with the paralsomnus before. What happened in that case?"
Jace affixed a small, sad smile at the mention of the poison. "That, Draco, is a story for another time. But right now I feel quite comfortable calling Mr. Potter back into the room. I do believe he has been lingering outside listening nearly this entire time." With a small flick of his wrist, Jace sent the doors careening open. This revealed a now beet-red Potter standing behind them, muttering something that sounded like an apology as he shuffled into the room. Draco had to stifle a laugh in the neck of his jumper. "Seeing as you seem to have heard most of that, Mr. Potter, I don't believe I need to explain to you that Draco will be fine. A few more days of rest and he should be back to his old self."
"Well let's hope for everyone's sake that that's not true," Potter said dryly with a snort.
"Shove it, Potty," Draco snapped, flipping Potter a less than dignified finger, receiving a tongue out as a reply.
"Well, since the children in the room seem to be settling just fine, I'm going to go find the adults of the house and fill them in on the situation. Have a good day sirs," Jace said, with a tilt of his head as he exited the room up the stairs.
As soon as the Healer left the room, Draco felt a palpable awkwardness settle over the room. He saw Potter from the corner of his eye diligently studying the tiles on the floor and fiddling with his hands. Draco had wanted to talk to him all week, and yet standing here all he could think about was the fact that Harry had saved his life. "I'm not sure I ever properly said thank you." Draco's hoped his voice didn't sound as tight as it felt. Upon hearing the break in the sil ence, the other boy's head snapped up and trained his bright green eyes on Draco. It was just as unsettling as the last time they had been alone together.
"It's no big deal, really. I just happened to be there. Anyone would have done the same thing I did," Harry replied, with a sheepish smile as he scrubbed at his hair absently.
"Well Merlin knows that isn't true. Still, your "right place at the right time" habit saved my life. As you apparently heard, that poison was a right bit of work. I certainly wouldn't have fancied going out that way," Draco said, not bothering to suppress the shudder that ran down his spine.
"Yeah well," Potter said, toeing the ground, looking for words, "you're welcome I suppose." Draco was surprised how shy Harry suddenly seemed at someone praising him for one of his countless achievements. You'd think he would be used to it by now, seeing as he had saved the Wizarding world and there always seemed to be someone telling him how perfect he was. Yet Harry seemed intent to get out of this particular spotlight. "Hey, are you hungry at all? I was thinking about having some sandwiches and tea out on the terrace if you're interested. I promise Buckbeak won't bother us if we stay off his grass."
Draco rolled his eyes at the obvious slight. "Shove off, prat. I'm not afraid of your bloody bird. But I will take you up on that sandwich." Draco felt a warm surge in the pit of his stomach at the beaming smile that split the other boys face as he headed to the fridge. Though he would never admit it aloud, Draco rather liked the feeling. As soon as Harry's back was turned Draco smiled as well. Yes, he liked the feeling quite a bit.
AN: Ok, hello guys! I am so happy to be back. I love this story and felt bad that had been so long since I gave you any content, but there has been a reason. There was supposed to be a gift accompanying this chapter, but I'm not done yet. It has been taking ;longer then expected, and as such this chapter has been ready for you for weeks. Eventually I decided that I didn't want to wait anymore, so here it is. The gift will have to come with the next chapter (in theory.)
I want to give a big thanks to Indeerah, my wonderful beta. I can't believe how lucky I have gotten finding you as a beta. This is the first chapter that has been beta'd and edited before uploading, so yay!
Anyways, I love you all and thanks for sticking with me through my little hiatus. Hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully there will be another chapter soon!