Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world, and I make no moneys from this writing. Lumpia are super good though, and Leonard's malasadas? If you're ever in Hawaii, keep those bad boys in mind. Especially the custard filled. *hint hint, nudge, nudge*

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Chapter 25

Draco was on his way out the door when the building's manager stopped him. "Mr. Mallow, wait, I have something for you."

Draco braced himself. The manager, Lani, was very nice but she'd gotten the idea that Draco needed tending to and every other day she forced food or household goods on him. Usually it was food. Unfortunately she wasn't a very good cook, but Draco didn't have the heart to tell her that so he had to accept the packages as graciously as he could while trying to figure out a way to get rid of them. His stomach was already twisting at the thought of ice cold lumpia or grease-sodden malasadas, otherwise delicious items that Draco enjoyed when they were prepared by other people. Draco flinched back in shock as something light was pressed into his extended hands.

"You got this letter. The address wasn't in Braille so I thought I would give it to you personally, make sure you got it."

Draco opened his mouth to ask why Lani hadn't just left it in his letter box as usual before she cut him off. "It's from a young man, someone named Harry…" Her voice trailed off and Draco could hear a wheedling note enter it. Lani was a wonderful person, a horrible cook, and an incorrigible gossip.

"If you need me to, I could read it to you. In case you don't want your roommate to see it."

Draco bit back a smile. That was her game. Lani was convinced that Draco and Charlie were lovers and now that Charlie had been seeing Deacon for a few weeks the older woman seemed to believe she was in the middle of some big gay soap opera.

"No, thank you, Lani. I'll just ask Charles to read it to me," Draco said, deflating her excitement in as gentle a tone as he could.

"Well, if you're sure," Lani said, giving up graciously. "I'm going to be cooking a big meal on Sunday so I need to get shopping. I'll bring you boys some leftovers."

Before Draco had the chance to demur he felt her muumuu brush against his feet and heard the front door of the building open and close.

"Thank you." He paused, hoping no one was around before continuing, "But I'd really rather you not." Though Draco didn't think much of the way he was raised in general, he did learn to be civil and he really couldn't bring himself to turn the older woman's offerings down.

His attention turned back to the letter in his hand and Draco brushed his fingers across the paper, feeling his thumb catch on the flap as his fingers found the rough edges of the stamp.

Draco couldn't feel anything on the surface of the letter that would tell him who it was from, and he couldn't think of any Harry that would be writing him. He felt Bogart tugging lightly on the leash and shook his head. "This will have to wait until later," he muttered to himself before slipping the envelope into his shoulder bag.

Hours later he walked back into his apartment with a sigh of relief. It was his first proper day back to work. The children were thrilled to have him back, but Draco was saddened to hear that Peter had been suspended from the program for his behavior and attitude towards Draco and the other helpers. Draco couldn't help but feel guilty for his part in getting the two boys, Harry and Peter, ejected from the program, even if it was just for a temporary period in Peter's case.

He'd gone to lunch with Leland afterwards and it raised his spirit's a bit, but he was still tired and disheartened as he stepped into the flat. He unclipped Bogart's leash and heard the dog wander into the apartment.

"Tough day," Charlie said, his voice sounding distant.

Draco looked up, towards the kitchen and the sound of Charlie's voice. "I've had better. But then again I have had much worse so I'm not going to complain."

Charlie laughed. The great Draco Malfoy not complaining? I think the world has come to an end."

Draco laughed a bit. "I suppose I do whinge." He stood up from where he had crouched on the floor and walked towards the sofa, taking a seat on the cushy surface. "It was alright. Peter got suspended for his behavior, poor pet."

"It's not your fault, D," Charlie said, his voice coming closer until Draco felt the sofa shift from the added weight. "Here, you still have your bag on."

Draco felt a tug on the strap of his shoulder bag and leaned forward, letting Charlie pull it off of him. He knew he was exhausted, but to forget he had his bag on meant he was even more tired than he thought.

"I saw Lani this morning. She gave me a very significant look. She's not cooking again, is she?"

Draco grinned. "Actually she is. So have your appetite ready. Actually she had a letter for me." Draco reached out to take back his bag and fished the letter from the inside pocket. The paper was creased beneath his fingers, but it wasn't that damaged. He held it out to Charlie, "She said it's from someone named Harry. Do I know anyone named Harry?"

Even as he said it, Draco's stomach sank. He did know a Harry. But as quickly as the thought came to him, Draco shook it off. He had made himself more than clear the last time he spoke to Harry. This letter couldn't possibly be from him. They had nothing left to say to each other.

The couch shifted and Draco heard Charlie clear his throat roughly. "Do you- Do you want me to read that for you?"

Drco shook his head, "No. No, I can read it." he turned to face Charlie, "Weren't you going somewhere?"

There was a pause and then the couch moved again as Charlie stood up. "Yeah, I was going to go to the store. We need a few things and I thought I might get take-out, Korean okay?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"I'll get your usual," Charlie said as he walked to the door, his voice moving in the room. "But if they're out of the tae gu I'm getting more of the daikon stuff I like."

Draco waved in assent, his other hand gripping he letter tightly. He listened to the redhead open the door, then close it and sat in silence for long moments until the only sounds in the apartment were Bogart's claws tapping on the linoleum and Draco's own unsteady breaths.

Satisfied that he was completely alone, Draco stood up and walked to the desk against the wall. The desk was his communication center. It held his Braille typewriter and voice recorder, along with a few other gadgets. Most of them were completely muggle, but there were a few he had enhanced with magic and it was one of these that he turned to now.

The desk top computer was shared, his and Charlie's both, but Draco had found some software designed specifically for the visually impaired. Working with his scanner it could 'read' any document out loud in an almost human voice. That was satisfactory for most documents, but with a little magical assistance Draco had made a few adjustments to the machine. He programmed the machine to recognize the magical signature of his friends and then the machine could 'read' the writing in that person's voice using their spoken intonations so it sounded as if they were just in the room. Charlie was in there, and Pomphrey, and Blaise, as well as Neville. The machine was even sensitive enough to provide Neville's original voice.

Sometimes it even provided emotional tones, if the writer's magic had been disturbed in any way by happiness or anger. And this is what Draco was afraid of because in a fit of optimism he had added Harry's magic to the scanner and he dreaded to hear the other man's voice again, unsure if he could stay strong in the face of those emotions.

Bracing himself Draco stood from the couch and crossed the room. The scanner and computer sprang to life with the press of a few buttons and soon it was humming away, warm beneath Draco's fingertips.

He opened the letter carefully, trying not to mangle the envelope too badly despite his shaking hands. Slowly he fed the letter into the tray and waited. It would take a few seconds for the magic in the scanner to connect with the software and spring to life.

The gravity of what he might hear swept over Draco and he sank into the comfortably padded desk chair, gripping the armrests tight as he heard that too-familiar voice fill the room.

Dear Draco,

There was a long pause after this and Draco held his breath until he heard Harry's voice again.

I'm afraid of the dark.

Draco scoffed

I know it's silly, considering everything that's happened in my life. Should be more frightened of spiders, or snakes, or Dark Lords or something, but when it comes to pure freezing terror the dark gets me every time.

I guess it started when I was child, like most of these things do. The Dursleys didn't want me, not at all, and they went out of their way to pretend I didn't exist for most of my childhood.

My room for a very long time was a cupboard under the stairs. There was no light inside, it had been meant for storage, a place to keep all of the forgotten things. During the day I had the freedom to move around the house anad yard, and I went to school. There was no darkness out there, but once I got back to the cupboard.

I used to sleep next to the door the door, my face on the floor pressed against the crack. Petunia left the kitchen light on in case Vernon or Dudley needed a midnight snack. Not a lot of light made it's way down the hall to me, but it was enough, just enough, for me to sleep without nightmares.

Draco reached out and stopped the scanner. His chest ached at the sound of tears in Harry's voice. Pulling the letter from the scanner he felt rough patches on the paper, spots where some moisture had fallen on the page.

"Merlin," Draco muttered before bringing the letter up to his mouth and brushing it against his lips. The scent of Harry's cologne rose from the page, mingling with the scent of fresh paper and somewhere beneath that salt. "I don't know if I can listen to this anymore."

Draco felt something heavy bump into his leg and took one hand away from the letter to rub Bogart's furry head. "I have to listen to the rest, don't I," he asked the dog. Bogart sneezed in response, bring a chuckle to Draco's throat. The laugh fought for space past the lump of emotion that had been building up and when it finally broke loose it sounded a bit more like a sob.

Taking a deep breath Draco leaned forward and replaced the letter on the scanner, turning it on again. He leaned back, his hand still buried in Bogart's fur as Harry went on.

I used to dream about being trapped in the darkness. One night the electricity went out at the Dursleys and the kitchen light went black. I had never been in a darkness like that. There was no end to it, it felt like the entire world disappeared, like I disappeared. I wrapped my arms around my chest and pushed my face even closer into the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor, thinking if I could only get further there might be light.

I didn't sleep that entire night and when the morning came and my aunt let me out of the cupboard I ran for a window, any window, so I could see sunlight. My face was scraped and bleeding from being pressed so close to the door, but I didn't care. There was light again, I wasn't lost anymore.

After I got my Hogwarts letter the Dursley's moved me into Dudley's second bedroom and I had a window. I had sun during the day and the moon and stars at night and it never got that dark again. And then I got to Hogwarts and there were always candles or torches, or a charm to give me light.

Then the Final Battle came. In that moment the entire world was light, and then it faded and there was nothing but endless black.

I think… I think for those weeks when I was completely blind I went a little mad. Everything was darkness. I could hear voices and I knew you were with me, but nothing felt real, I wasn't real. For that time I was little again, trapped in a tiny black room alone, my face pressed to the door searching for light.

I've apologized for the way I acted after I got my vision back, but I never tried to explain my reaction. And now that I'm trying I don't know how. I think-- I think the idea that I had when I got my sight back, that you had been blind with me the entire time, made me feel abandoned again, like you were apart from me if that makes any sense. If I wasn't real in the darkness, then neither were you. I just felt lied to. The entire time I was blind you were my eyes, and then thinking it had all been deceit?

I don't know if that even makes sense. None of it makes sense.

I'm still afraid of the dark, Draco. I sleep with a night light, a small lantern next to my bed shaped like a dragon. It's eyes glow pale blue and it's bright enough that I can see my entire room.

But sometimes I turn it off, and I sit there in the darkness, and I try to hear your voice. I remember the stories you told me. I remember them all.

But only in the dark.

Love,

Harry

The voice stopped then and Draco took the letter off of the scanner and folded it carefully, following the creases, then slid it back into the envelope. He didn't quite press the missive against his chest, but he did hold it for a long moment, picturing Harry lying alone in the darkness and hearing the other man's words ringing in his ears.

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Note: Just as an FYI lumpia are little Filipino egg rolls stuffed with pork and vegetables. Very greasy, very unhealthy, and if they are made right very delicious. Malasadas are Portuguese doughnuts. Leonard's is a pretty famous bakery in Hawaii. They have reglar stores and a few malasada wagons around the island where you can buy fresh hot deep-fried sugar-coated lumps of delicious.

I just ate dinner but now I am hungry again.

Review. Or I'll tell on you. I'm not sure who I would tell, but I'd find somebody.