Chapter 21 – Resolve

Harry left Hermione with Slughorn to assist him in the preparation of the antidote. They had decided to start brewing it right away, since the "pure blood of a direct member of the family," i.e., Lucius Malfoy's, wasn't needed until the very end and the preparation would probably take them well into the night anyway.

Harry and Ron were now following McGonagall back to her quarters. The Headmistress wanted to Firecall the Malfoys immediately from her office, to reach them as soon as possible. Harry was silently praying they would be able to come over quickly. He tried very hard not to think of the consequences if they didn't.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice McGonagall and Ron had stopped dead in front of him, and he bumped hard into his friend's back.

"Ouch! Sorry, Ron, but why in hell did you st-" he froze as he realised why they had paused there in the first place.

A blonde middle-aged pale witch was standing right before the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmistress's office.

Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry was amazed at how tiny Draco's mother looked in her elegant silver robes. Her face bore the remains of dried tears, and she looked utterly exhausted, as if she had not slept in a while. She was holding her hands nervously and looked positively distraught. Of course, she must be incredibly worried! Her only son was dying, lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

"I have to talk to you," she told McGonagall in a very soft, slightly trembling voice.

"I was about to Firecall you anyway, Madam Malfoy," McGonagall replied. "Let's go into my office then."

They all entered the room, but Draco's mother remained silent, as if in shock.

"Please take a seat," McGonagall said courtly before sitting at her desk. Narcissa Malfoy removed her cloak and folded it neatly, before letting it rest on the armchair's back. Harry sat in the seat next to her, while Ron was leaning on the wall near the window, arms folded on his chest. The tension in the room was very much palpable. No one was making a sound.

"How is Draco?" Narcissa asked in a very low voice, as if afraid of the answer. Harry noticed her hands were trembling slightly, and she was playing with her wedding ring nervously.

McGonagall looked at her above her spectacles. "He's… not doing too well. I'm afraid I don't have very good news." And she told Draco's mother everything. The witch was getting paler and paler – something Harry didn't think possible – as new information concerning her son was delivered to her. When McGonagall arrived to the point where Draco only had a few hours left if the antidote wasn't given to him soon, she closed her eyes, and silent tears started falling down her cheeks. Harry saw her lips tremble and on an impulse, he put his hand on top of hers.

She flicked her eyes open, and turned to look deep into his eyes.

"You love him, don't you?" she asked him, tears running down her cheeks, her voice almost a whisper.

God, yes, he loved Draco, Merlin, how he loved him! He realised with a jolt that he had never loved anyone like that in his whole life. He gazed at her and nodded.

"I knew it… and I knew Draco was in love… I felt it when he came home for Christmas, he was so… happy, lightheaded and confident at the same time. I had never seen him like that before. And then, when I saw the two of you the other day, I just- it was so obvious! The love was radiating between you two," she paused and took his hand in hers. "Salazar, I wished I had listened to him when he confided in me, instead of clinging to this crazy nonsense!" Tears were flowing down her beautiful face now, and Harry felt his heart break at the sight. "And now it is too late! I may never be able to talk to him again!" she sobbed.

"Madam Malfoy," McGonagall said after a short while, "there is a way of saving Draco, an antidote to the potion he's been ingesting for weeks. Professor Slughorn and Miss Granger are working on it as we speak," she paused and Harry noticed something had changed in Narcissa Malfoy's eyes. Hope, maybe. "The only problem is that we need your husband's blood to complete it, since we strongly believe he used it in the potion. Without it, there won't be any antidote, and Draco-" she came to a stop as Draco's mother's let out a small cry of despair, and Harry tightened his grip on her hands.

"Madam Malfoy, this is very important," Harry stepped in, trying to remain focused on the task at hand and not let his emotions completely take over his mind. "Could you please ask your husband to come here right now?"

She looked at him for a while, and then answered in a barely audible voice. "I- I can't… Lucius is… gone, he's gone, and I have no idea where he is!" she crumbled to pieces and started crying in earnest.

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the news. Oh no. It couldn't- He stood up at once, and ran his fingers in his hair nervously, before saying in a hoarse voice. "How- how long has he been gone?" trying to sound calm, but the fire was burning inside of him.

"Since yesterday night. I haven't seen him since after dinner," she added tearfully. "Oh Merlin, why have things turned so awful all of the sudden?" she asked the room, bringing her hands to her face.

"Well, we have to find him, now! You have no idea where he could be?"

"No, I'm afraid, I don't! I-" Narcissa replied sheepishly. "May I- May I see my son, now, please?" she added in a whisper.

"Well, we were all about to go and check on him anyway," the Headmistress said.

Narcissa turned to Harry again. "Harry? Will you come with us? I think I could use an arm to lean on, if you don't mind." She still had tears on her cheeks, but she wasn't crying anymore.

God, Harry was so angry! He wanted to leave right away, to look for Malfoy in every fucking corner of the country, to do something, anything, not just stand there and watch the boy he loved so much die slowly but surely! But he was utterly helpless. There was nothing he could do right now, and he needed to see Draco so bad, that in the end, he sighed and nodded.

"Right, well, I suppose I'll come with you then!" Ron said and they left the Headmistress's office in silence, all lost in their own thoughts.

Harry knew there was something wrong the second he set foot in the hospital wing. His eyes anxiously roamed over the endless alignment of beds, Narcissa Malfoy still on his arm, and soon his eyes were on Draco.

He froze mid-way as something incredibly weird was happening in front of his eyes.

Draco was glowing.

A pale-blue halo was radiating all around his head and shoulders, encircling him like a giant crown of light.

Harry's eyes next wandered lower on the bed and stopped on what looked like a body. A motionless body that was slouched sideways over Draco's legs. A very recognisable pool of long white-blond hair was displayed all over the blankets.

"No!" shouted Narcissa, as she ran to her husband and son, Harry, Ron and McGonagall in toe, quickly followed by Madam Pomfrey, who looked completely taken aback by the situation.

"I- I don't understand!" she was saying. "Everything was normal, I checked on him a few minutes ago and things were just as they had been!" she went on, all the while hastily walking to the bed.

Before she could reach it though, Narcissa threw herself on Draco, running her hands all over her son's face, crying hard, and hastily checking his heartbeat. Harry couldn't move, hypnotised by what was happening before his eyes, and his brain couldn't seem to make his body react in the proper way.

"Madam Malfoy," he heard McGonagall call, but Draco's mother didn't react.

"Narcissa," she insisted, and gently took her away from her son and husband. The Headmistress then looked at Harry who got the hint and he took the witch in his arms. At first it felt a bit weird, to be honest, to be holding Narcissa Malfoy in his arms like that, but soon he stopped thinking about the whole thing. She was Draco's mother, and she needed comfort. So he held her close, and told her words of comfort. She seemed to hesitate as well, feeling a bit tense in Harry's arms, before finally resting her head on his shoulder, sobbing quietly, while McGonagall was trying to figure out what was going on.

She checked on Draco first, while Madam Pomfrey was focusing on his father. It was an impressive sight to see the two witches working side to side like that, and amongst all the drama, Harry couldn't help being fascinated. McGonagall flicked her wand over Draco a few times before finally saying. "He's alive," in an assured voice, "just still deeply asleep, but no worse than he had been in the last few hours," and Harry felt incredibly relieved at her words. He felt Ron's hand squeeze his shoulder and felt grateful for his friend's reassuring presence.

"What's this thing around him, then?" Harry asked in a slightly trembling voice.

"Well, I don't know yet, but I couldn't find anything threatening in it."

Harry's eyes then diverted to Lucius Malfoy as Madam Pomfrey swirled her wand above him in complicated patterns. The wizard was resting on his stomach, his arms folded under him, unconscious – or dead, Harry fleetingly thought, dread suddenly coursing his body as he took a good look at the inanimate form resting on Draco's legs.

"This one's alive too, although something is wrong with him, terribly wrong," Madam Pomfrey muttered. She then flicked her wand once more, and managed to levitate his body enough to turn him over onto his back and Harry took a look at his face.

He looked terrible. The wizard was the shadow of his own self, really. He was so pale, it matched the bed sheets perfectly. He hadn't shaved, was incredibly dishevelled and had huge bags under his eyes. But what was the most terrifying, were his eyes. They were open, and empty, cold. They looked as if Lucius Malfoy's soul had escaped his body and only left an empty shell.

Narcissa suddenly let out a loud cry and buried her face in Harry's shoulders, and it took Harry a couple of seconds to realise why she had reacted like this. He gasped as his eyes slowly wandered down the wizard's body.

It was covered in blood.

Narcissa Malfoy, usually such a strong woman, was crying restlessly. "Lucius, oh, Lucius, what have you done?" she was asking the room, as tears were flooding down her face. Harry was desperately trying to bring her comfort, but was thoroughly shaken himself. He forced himself to look at the wizard again.

Lucius Malfoy had both his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the Dark Mark still clearly visible, and he was holding a silver dagger in his left hand. The object reminded Harry of the one Voldemort had once used on him to take his blood a long time ago, and he shivered at the memory.

Malfoy's right forearm was hidden under an incredible amount of blood that was seeping from a large wound that had apparently just been made, and was running from his wrist up to his elbow.

At that point, McGonagall took matters in hand and conjured a small vial out of an empty glass that had been resting on Draco's nightstand. She then pointed her wand on Lucius Malfoy's right arm and murmured "transferro." Harry's eyes opened wide as Malfoy's blood was slowly being lifted from his wound by the tip of her wand, right into the small vial in one, long, thin stream.

She then corked the vial and took it in her hand, before turning to Ron. "Mr Weasley," and Harry felt his friend flinch at the authoritative tone, "please go and take this to Professor Slughorn immediately!"

Ron nodded, apparently as unable to utter a single word as Harry was, and hastily grabbed the vial, leaving the hospital wing in a rush.

At that point, Harry felt blood returning to every part of his body, as it slowly dawned on him that, that was it, Draco was about to be saved! He felt like a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. Narcissa must have come to the same conclusion, since he felt her body relax a bit, and she left his arms to come closer to Draco. She put her hand on his face, gently stroking his cheek, and then placing a kiss on his forehead, muttering apologies to him.

All of the sudden, the light that had been surrounding Draco flickered slightly, dimming gradually before finally disappearing completely. Harry had no idea what that had been and just hoped the fact the light had gone was no bad omen.

He then turned his attention back to Madam Pomfrey who was now whispering, "Tergeo." The blood that had been staining the bed sheets and the older wizard's clothes was slowly evaporating, leaving the wound very visible now. She retrieved a small bottle from the pocket of her robes, and opened it hastily. She then poured three drops on the wizard's still bleeding wound. Essence of dittany, Harry thought distractingly, as he remembered Hermione using it on Ron the previous year when he had been splinched after they had escaped the Death Eaters in the café. Like the year before, the wound stopped bleeding immediately and the flesh closed, leaving only a fine line on the wizard's forearm.

She then used her wand again, this time to levitate Malfoy's body from Draco's bed and let him slowly land on the bed right next to his son's.

Hermione was deeply concentrated on the perilous task they were trying to accomplish. She knew that if they missed only one little thing, the whole potion would be useless, and they would have to do the whole process all over again.

And they might not have this luxury.

Funnily, in those extremely tense moments, Slughorn was his usual self, talking non-stop about one experience or the other, about previous potions he had created, and how the making of an antidote was something special, that needed extra precautions.

Hermione was cutting her fifth rat's tail, and was about to hand it to the Professor when Ron appeared, out of breath and completely flushed, his cheeks almost as red as his hair. He leaned for a second on the doorframe with his left hand, trying to catch his breath, while handing the vial to Hermione.

"Here-," he said, panting heavily, "Mal- Malfoy's blood!" he managed to say, before walking to them.

"How- How did you get-" she started, but Ron interrupted her.

"I'll explain later, for now," he said, trying to catch his breath.

Hermione looked at him tenderly for a second. She looked at the vial, and handed it to Slughorn who looked at it swiftly, before casting it aside for later, when the potion would be nearly finished.

They worked again for about ten minutes, before the Potions Professor finally opened the small bottle with great ceremony, and it was only then that Hermione realised he had been truly nervous about the whole thing. Non-stop talking was probably just his way to release stress.

He set his wand to turn the potion anti-clockwise, waiting until it looked homogenous enough before finally pouring seven drops of Malfoy's blood in the mud-coloured potion.

The three of them were holding their breath. At first, nothing happened. A white cloud of smoke escaped from the cauldron, then a smaller one and that was it. The potion instantly cleared at once, and finally took its definite blue colour.

Slughorn then let out a small cry of victory, and turned to Hermione to hug her. She was slightly surprised by the gesture, but returned it nonetheless, feeling incredibly relieved.

She then went to hug Ron, and placed a deep kiss on his lips, letting out a sigh of relief before burying her neck in his shoulder, and closing her eyes for a moment.

The professor finally plunged the ladle into the cauldron, and filled another vial with the antidote. The three of them then rushed upstairs, to the hospital wing.

At the sight of his beaming friends entering the room, Harry felt a rush of adrenalin course through his body. They had it! The antidote!

Slughorn hastily gave it to Madam Pomfrey who muttered, "rennervate!" and Draco slowly, very slowly opened his eyes. Harry knew the spell was only artificially waking him up at the moment, as confirmed by the emptiness of Draco's eyes, but he didn't care. It was all they needed for him to ingest the antidote.

Everybody was now gathered around the bed and Madam Pomfrey slowly brought the vial to Draco's lips, holding his head firmly in place with her other hand. She then started to pour the content of the small bottle into Draco's mouth, and he jerked at the contact at first, but Madam Pomfrey didn't let go. She managed to get him to swallow all of its content, and she gently released his head, allowing him to rest it on the pillows.

Draco then closed his eyes again.

"How long before he wakes up again?" Narcissa whispered.

"It depends," Madam Pomfrey answered. "It could be anything from a couple of minutes to ten days."

Harry gasped. Ten days? Fuck, that would be long! But at least, Draco was saved, and that was all that mattered now, really.

"And what about-" Draco's mother started again.

"Your husband? Well, that's going to be a lot more complicated," provided Madam Pomfrey. "He's been badly hurt, and there are still many things we don't know yet. But when Draco wakes up, hopefully without any permanent damage, we'll be able to investigate his condition and heal him the best that we can."

Harry couldn't believe it. Draco was saved! His Draco, the boy he had come to know and love so much, would soon wake up, and everything would be as before! Well, almost as before, since Harry didn't know if Draco would be able to recover his magic at all. But he was alive, and it was all that mattered at the moment. McGonagall seemed to have read his thoughts, since she turned to Draco's mother.

"Madam Malfoy," she said, "We may have saved Draco, but there was nothing we could do about his magic…" Narcissa flinched at the words, but remained composed. Harry couldn't help noticing the contrast between the Narcissa from now, who had her emotions well under control, and the Narcissa he had held in his arms previously.

"I know… but he is alive. That's all that matters. We can always deal with the rest later on," she added in a soft voice.

"And I'll be there to help as well," Harry stated.

"Of course you will," Narcissa whispered gently, her eyes bright.

"Well, well, what a lovely reunion!" a voice snarled in between them and Harry jumped at the wonderful familiar sound. Draco! Draco was awake! Harry couldn't hide the excitement he was feeling right now, all mixed up with many different feelings such as elation, joy, and utter relief; Draco was finally back!

Everybody started talking at the same time, and Harry saw Narcissa smiling widely at her son, caressing his hair gently, and he wanted very much to do the same, but instead stepped aside to give them space. However, Narcissa would hear nothing of it, and hastily took him by the hand, gently enjoining him to come closer to her son, and finally Harry leant forward, and plunged his eyes into his boyfriend's and it took a second for them to reconnect again, before Draco sent his hands on Harry's cheeks, pulling him to himself and planted a deep, languorous kiss on his lips. Harry closed his eyes and nothing else mattered, not the people around the bed, nor the terrible ordeal they had just been through, nothing but Draco's incredibly soft lips and the feeling of being finally, very much back home.

Draco was still somehow in shock.

He was replaying the events of the last few hours in his head, nervously rolling Harry's Christmas present in his fingers. Holding the small golden ball in his hands brought him incredible comfort, even though he couldn't make it work anymore.

After the first moments of joy at the realisation that he was, not only awake, but also definitely out of trouble, had come the time for explanations.

And it had hurt.

Very much so.

That his father, the man he admired the most, his role model, despite all his imperfections, had tried to change him, his only son, wounded him much more than he would admit. It wasn't the fact that he had nearly died in the process, because he knew his father had never, ever wished him dead, no, it was the fact that his preference disgusted his father so much that he had been willing to try and change him. Make him someone else. Like Draco wasn't good enough for him. A disappointment. As if his father would have preferred someone else as a son, someone like Blaise for example, who didn't fool around with boys…

But as he was gently stroking the smooth surface of the Snitch with his thumb, he knew he wouldn't change. He just couldn't. Not now. Not after all he had been through over the last few weeks.

No.

It was too late.

He was so very much in love with Harry, that for now, he couldn't imagine living in a world where they wouldn't be together. It was stupid, he knew it, because they were only eighteen, and their relationship was still pretty recent, but that's how he was feeling deep inside.

He would never marry a woman. He just couldn't picture that happening. Every time he tried to imagine what it would be like, his heart just broke. He knew he could lose everything: the family fortune, the manor he had grown up in, even the love of his father – provided he ever woke up, he thought with a heavy heart… but he just couldn't. There was this kind of force deep inside of him, right there in his gut, that just rebelled at the thought.

On the other hand, he could very much imagine himself living with Harry in ten years' time. Or even in twenty. Merlin, that sounded like so far away! They would be so old! But he could picture it, he simply could. And every time he was trying to imagine what it would be like, the thought of it just warmed his heart immensely and it felt amazing.

He took a glance at his father, still resting unconscious on the bed to his left. His pale face was rendered even paler by the moonlight gently caressing his features. He sighed heavily. It was his father who had rescued him in the end. But not without damage. The man had not recovered from whatever had happened yet, and probably never would. Draco's heart was heavy at the thought. Despite everything, he loved his father. And he needed him in his life. God, he couldn't imagine what it had been like for Harry to grow up without parents…

He tried once again to get some sleep, but it was just too hard. And he had slept enough for the next ten years. He wanted Harry. He wanted to be held in his arms, he wanted to hear loving words whispered in his ears, he wanted to feel the heat of his body against his. He wanted to make love to him. Badly.

Unfortunately, Harry hadn't been allowed to stay for the night and Draco had been left to rest in the hospital wing beside his father. Madam Pomfrey had been quite strict about the whole thing, and no matter how much the two boys had pleaded, he had had to stay here in the end. Draco thought that Madam Pomfrey was somehow still trying to make up for last time, when she had released him out of the hospital wing before knowing exactly what had been wrong with him. Oh well, he would see Harry in the morning anyway.

He took a good look at the Snitch again, playing with the moonlight, trying to project small spots of light on the walls of the hospital wing. He sighed again heavily, his breath brushing against it. And that's when it happened. His heart skipped a beat and he was nearly knocked off his bed when five little words appeared on it, magically glowing.

I love you, Draco – Harry.

He choked, closed his eyes, counted to three and opened them again. The words were still there. He tried to remain calm. There probably was an explanation. Maybe Harry had done something to it while he had been out, so that Draco could still see the words without the magic bond.

But still.

He had to check. He hastily sat on his bed, and tried, really hard, not to get too overexcited at the thought, that maybe, maybe, there could be a tiny chance his magic had returned.

He fumbled into the pocket of his robes but found nothing. Shit. Where was his wand? He checked the bedside table but found nothing there either. And then he remembered. He had left it in the empty classroom the day he had realised he had lost his magic.

Harry. Harry must have it. Harry had surely picked it up after Draco had stormed out of the room. Yes, Harry wouldn't have left Draco's wand there.

He made up his mind quickly. He had to know, and it couldn't wait.

Despite his excitation, he got up slowly, knowing his body hadn't recovered completely and he didn't want to collapse again. He had had enough of that lately. He quickly dressed and headed for the door.

Harry was having the most incredible dream.

He was back in Draco's arms, finally, and they were kissing and groping like mad. They were both stark naked, desperately hard, their erections rubbing against one another feverishly. Merlin, that was hot!

"Missed me?" Draco suddenly asked him, and he felt his boyfriend's soft lips on him once again. Although this time it felt very real. So very fucking real. Not at all like a dream. Harry shot his eyes open and jerked back in shock at the sight of his boyfriend, his very real boyfriend – although right now, he was slightly blurry, due to Harry's lack of glasses - sitting on the edge of his – their – bed, all smiles.

"What the fuck, Draco, you scared me to death! What are you doing here?" Harry whispered, hastily putting his glasses back on his nose.

"Well, I was feeling a little bit lonely in the hospital wing, so I thought, that maybe, you know, I could find company," he smiled again.

That smile! Merlin, how Harry had missed that smile! It was so good to see it back on Draco's beautiful face!

"I'm glad you came to see me, then!"

"Yeah, well, the others weren't available, so…" Draco replied cheekily.

"Prat!" Harry answered, shoving him. Draco lost his balance, which diverted the flickering light of his wand from his face.

Wait a minute.

Light from Draco's wand?

Harry gaped in shock and saw the very satisfied smug on his boyfriend's face.

"Draco!" he almost shouted, before remembering it was the middle of the night. "Your magic! It- It's back!" Harry was in shock. How was it possible?

"Well, very much so, yes!" Draco's grin was so big it nearly reached his ears.

"But- how?"

"I have no idea! But it's back, look!" and with that, he murmured, "nudere!" Harry's night clothes suddenly vanished, and he found himself stark naked.

Harry laughed hard, and threw himself at his boyfriend, making him fall on his back on the bed, before straddling him and kissing him like mad, never wanting to let him go.

Soon, Draco's clothes were gone as well, and Harry found himself in the very same situation as in his dream. Although this time, it wasn't a dream. Draco was well and truly back. For real.