Koiame: In advance, don't kill me if I mangled the fourth book a bit. I didn't not consult it to write this chapter as I wanted to avoid accidental plagiarism. Heh. ^.^' Instead, we're doing this thing by memory. We'll see how it goes. On that spiffy note, hope you all enjoy.
Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 disclaimer as it applies to all chapters. 18+
Reviewer Thank You(s) to: SeekerDraconis x2 (Thank you! Haha, yes. That would be amusing, wouldn't it? Slytherin won the house cup. Chamber of Secrets should be coming out soon. Can't wait!), and harborseal54 (Ah, well thank you twice then! Glad you are enjoying it. And yes, I shall just have to make my writer's block into something useful, lol. I guess we'll see how this chapter goes then. ^.^)
Chapter 26: Hurt
Cedric Diggory's bloodied and soiled face smiled wanly at him, a mixture of relief and gratitude swirling around in his eyes. Staring back, Draco blinked hazily at the Hufflepuff he knew to be dead. Nothing was making any sense. What was happening? The cracking of wooden limbs filled the unsettling silence, closing upon them like a tomb, whispering shivers down his spine. A cold sweat stung the lacerations all over his body and made the crimson shirt he wore cling uncomfortably against his form. Out of the corner of his vision, a large chalice he recognized as the Triwizard cup gleamed with unnatural brilliance, causing them both to meander distractedly towards it as if in a trance.
Words escaped his lips, ones that he could not understand over the sound of his racing pulse. Diggory nodded appreciatively in reply and outstretched his hand to hover by one of the cup's handles. Unable to control his own movements, Draco was startled as he did the same. On the count of three, the blonde's insides twisted the moment he clutched the golden handle. The next thing he knew, he was face-down on the cool ground, clutching at patches of grass and dirt, trying to find his wand. Beside him, the brunet Hufflepuff was on his feet, wand in hand, and looking around.
"The cup was a portkey." Cedric grinned, wondering where it had sent them.
Draco clambered to his feet, wand tightly in his grasp, and meandered around what he now recognized was a graveyard. An unsettling feeling was wriggling inside, setting his teeth on edge. When he rounded one of the ornate grave markers, a family-sized crypt overseen by a stone reaper, the names etched on them caused his knees to buckle although he didn't know why. Something familiar was recalled by those names, but the blonde could not place them. By all indications, this was a muggle graveyard. Who would he know that would be buried there?
"We have to get out of here, now!" Malfoy spoke, but did not recognize his own voice. A terrible pain was mounting in his head all the while, causing him to stumble.
The panic in his tone alarmed Diggory, who ran to Malfoy with his wand at the ready. From a few yards away, the rotting wooden door of an old, abandon groundskeeper's house swung open with a metallic thud and Draco could no longer see, the searing pain radiating from his forehead overtaking him.
"Run!" He shouted with all his strength.
"Harry?" Cedric questioned, training his wand on an approaching figure.
'Harry?' Draco thought. 'No… No, this is that graveyard. This is when the Dark Lord…'
"Kill the spare." A voice hissed.
With a shock of green light, the Hufflepuff was dead, his body making a sickening thump as he hit the packed dirt. He was screaming – no, Harry was screaming, as Draco now knew that he was watching this nightmare unfold through the chosen one's eyes. Gritting his teeth, Malfoy felt himself straighten, trying to fend off an attack, but with a swift flick of the murderer's wand he was disarmed.
'Wormtail.' The blonde recognized the rat-faced wizard.
Stone arms captured him from behind, holding him tightly. 'The stone reaper.' Draco struggled, trying to pry the scythe's staff away from his neck. A fire was lit under a cauldron nearby and words were spoken. Wormtail waddled over - the bundle in his arms carefully put aside - and ripped back his sleeve. Expecting to see the all too familiar dark mark he had been branded with, it was strange to behold the pale, blank canvas of Harry's arm where his own should be.
"Blood from the enemy, forcefully taken," muttered Wormtail, slicing deeply down the bare flesh.
The blonde felt the agony pooling in his head, insisting he pass out, as he gritted his teeth. Behind watery eyes, Draco watched as the Death Eater added Harry's blood to the bubbling brew, among other things.
'What are you doing, Potter? Escape already!' He thought, unable to bear it any longer.
After Wormtail bandaged his bloody stump, the grey-eyed wizard watched as he dropped the swaddled bundle into the cauldron, causing a violent magical reaction that tainted the air. Rising out of the miasma that billowed forth, the Dark Lord emerged, more menacing than even Draco's darkest recollections of the wizard could render. If the pain was unbearable before, the rebirth of Voldemort increased the throbbing in his head by tenfold.
'No. Please, Potter. Get us out of here!' The blonde wizard screamed, remembering every crutiatus curse he'd suffered, finding none that could compare to the torture he currently endured.
"I can touch you now." The Dark Lord swept towards him, placing a boney finger to Harry's forehead.
Draco couldn't take any more. He was screeching at the contact, unable to pass out and too boggled to care about his pride. Eyes shut tight, everything was spinning and he was going to be sick. Lurching forwards, the blonde felt unrestrained. He could hear his own cries echoing from his chest as he writhed in clouded fear.
"Draco! Draco, it's okay." A voice tried to calm him.
"NO!" Malfoy wailed.
"Potter, what's going on?" Someone said, closing in quickly.
"I-I don't know. He just woke up screaming."
Opening his tear-laden eyes, Draco made out the blurred outlines of a familiar healer. With a violent upheaval, the blonde turned aside and threw up onto the floor. Harry's hands grasped him by the shoulders, steadying his rippling frame.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Malfoy bellowed before heaving again.
"He's vomiting blood. His wound must have torn open further." Madam Pomfrey said, clearing away the sick and producing a bucket out of thin air with her wand. "We must get him to lay still."
The raven-haired wizard nodded, pulling the blonde down as best he could. Draco thrashed, but was too weak to resist being held down.
"Potter, you have to run! The Dark Lord… in the graveyard… He's going to kill us!"
"Malfoy, he's dead. Voldemort's dead!" Harry assured him.
"No… I saw him. He was there." Draco cried; face twisted in absolute terror. "You were there."
"It's going to be alright, Mr. Malfoy." Madam Pomfrey said, retrieving a vial from the bedside cabinet. "Drink this, and you will be fine."
"No!"
"Malfoy, it's Madam Pomfrey. She's going to help you." Harry persisted. "Just take the potion."
Draco considered his words, head whipping side to side as he shook away the ringing in his ears. The image of Voldemort reborn seared through his mind, deluding everything else. Yet, enough rational thought remained in him that he understood their words. With a weak nod, the blonde opened his mouth and let the graying matron pour the liquid down his throat. It was numbing and made the back of his tongue feel like cotton. His wildness ceased abruptly as the calming draught took effect.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked, noticing a sharp change in his behavior.
"Potter," said Draco. With doe-like eyes, he looked up at the brunet, lost and unraveled. "I was in a graveyard. And Diggory… Wormtail murdered him. Then…" The former Slytherin trailed off, taking in his surroundings.
"You were in the graveyard?" Harry pulled his attention back. "How?"
"I don't know." Draco frowned. "It was your memory, wasn't it?"
The green-eyed wizard looked at Madam Pomfrey quizzically, hoping she could shed some light on what happened. She merely shook her head, tending to Malfoy's wounds with a steady hand. Harry looked back down at him, wondering how the blonde could have seen what he described.
"It's alright now." He replied. "That happened three years ago. Voldemort's gone for good this time."
The former death eater winced at the Dark Lord's name and then something dawned on him. Turning his face to Potter, the blonde's uncertainty was plain as day.
"Riddle," he asked, "the surname on the grave?"
"Tom Marvolo Riddle. That was Voldemort's real name, and that was his father's grave."
Draco's eyes went wide. Subtly, he leaned closer to the Gryffindor, the contact of their arms a reassurance he needed more than his pride.
Finished with mending his wound as best she could, Madam Pomfrey lingered, unsure if she should allow the unnerving conversation to continue or insist that they both rest. Harry returned his gaze to her and gave the weary witch a tenuous smile. As if sensing her raven-haired patient's thoughts, she breathed a sigh and gathered up the empty containers and used bandages.
"Both of you," Madam Pomfrey ordered. "Get some rest. I'll be back to check on you shortly."
In a few seconds, she left the pair to their own devices. Once alone, Harry summoned enough courage to lightly caress the bandage on the blonde's cheek with the back of his fingers. Draco flinched, predictably.
"Does it still hurt?" The former Gryffindor asked, trying to meet the blonde's eyes. He wasn't sure what he wanted with the 'reformed' death eater, but he couldn't just watch and do nothing as he suffered.
"No." Draco whispered, eyes fluttering in a daze.
Harry didn't care if the blonde hated him forever for what he was about to do. The brunet knew he would regret it for a very, very long time if he didn't follow his intuition. After all, it was what had kept him alive so far. Without another thought, he wrapped him in a tight embrace, receiving little resistance.
Head tucked cozily against Potter's chest, Draco let himself weep for his fate, feeling his sanity dangling by a fine thread. He couldn't do it anymore. Not one cell in his body held any hope that things would ever be okay again, not for him at least. Just like his parents, the aurors would cart him off to Azkaban and lock him away until the better part of his life was gone. Tears escaped as his cheek brushed against the bandage on Harry's chest.
"Potter, just let go of me. I want to die. I want to die, Potter!" The blonde wizard whimpered, torn between loathing himself for turning to his sworn enemy for comfort and needing beyond all rationality for someone to hold him just one final time before he would be hauled off to prison.
Instead of a reply, Harry held tighter and dared to rub his naked back soothingly. Earlier, the touch would have excited him, but now, as sympathetic tears prickled at his own eyes, all that mattered was making Draco feel safe. As he held the blonde, he remembered the night two years ago when he had confronted the Slytherin in the boy's lavatory. Malfoy had been sobbing then too. If he had done things differently, been more sympathetic to the blonde, he wondered if things would have ended up the same way.
It was doubtful, he decided glumly. But as Draco fell asleep, Harry realized it didn't matter, because he could change everything starting with that moment. If he had to break Malfoy out of prison or save him from another nightmare, he would. Whatever it took, he vowed to rescue the sleeping wizard, even if that meant sticking his neck out for someone who loathed him. Lips pressed against a wave of silver-blonde strands on top of Draco's head, Harry made that promise.
"It's going to be alright." He whispered, closing his own eyes and treasuring the moment for what it was.
Koiame: Oh Harry, thou hast a hero complex, but we love you for it. Thank you all for reading. I will be going away until August 1st and will not have internet access, so this will be the last update until then. Sorry! But I will be working on the next chapters during that time and should have something special for you all when I return. In the meantime, be safe and well. Ja mata, ne. ^.^