Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, it belongs to J.K. Rowling, I don't make money out of this, and all characters in this fanfic are of legal age.
Warnings: Slash, homosexuality, EWE, AU, ignores DH
A/N: There are two more chapters until we finally close this adventure. :') They are already written and will be up as soon as I finish editing them which should be no later than Saturday. This will be my last A/N, so I want to take this time to thank you all so much for sticking with me this far, even through and after the two-year hiatus! Honestly, you guys are the reason why I simply could not abandon this.
I'm happy you all enjoyed this story and am hoping that you'll enjoy it until the end as well. :) Until next time ;)
Chapter 29
Healing
"Let's go to Harry before heading to dinner," Ron suggested as he walked up to them once Potions was over. He didn't actually think that Harry would be awake, but the absence of his best mate was starting to do him in. He wasn't that worried really. He trusted Harry enough to know that something like this wouldn't bring him down. Harry would be fine.
"Go on without me," Draco said, waving them off with his hand. He kept his back turned to them as he fixed his ingredients' box. "I need to talk to Severus for a bit."
Hermione looked at Pansy and Blaise, who both just shrugged. "Alright. See you there, Draco."
The Potions classroom emptied quickly. Students normally didn't want to stay in that classroom for too long, especially with Snape still around.
Snape sat behind his desk, raising an eyebrow at Draco who hadn't left with his friends. "Are you done with your moping?"
Draco slung his bag on his shoulder and walked up to his desk with a half-hearted glare. "I am not moping," he muttered, even though he knew he was.
"Pining desperately," Snape corrected himself.
Draco's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"Potter will be fine," Snape said instead, taking pity on the boy. He fixed his papers on his desk as he spoke. "Madame Pomfrey's feedbacks are generally positive. Whatever Carrow did to him, it didn't do lasting damage."
Draco found comfort in the golden light surrounding his godfather.
"He's still asleep," Draco countered. He frowned in worry. "We don't know how this will affect him."
"He's got his Gryffindor posse with him, an adoring following of fans, a foster family composed of red hair and freckles, and an ever-doting half-werewolf," Snape said dryly. He waved away Draco's worries as if they were inconsequential, but looked up from his papers as he said the next words. "He also has you. He will be fine."
Draco couldn't help the warmth that bloomed suddenly in his chest. Snape may not be the most affectionate godfather ever, but he certainly wouldn't trade him for the world. He smiled softly. "You're going to have to kill a baby Kneazle to get your Slytherin dignity back, Severus."
Snape scoffed. "I make hundreds of children's lives miserable each day. My Slytherin dignity is hardly at risk."
Draco grinned, especially since Snape stayed faithfully gold. He sobered quickly though as he started to talk about what he had stayed behind for. "I didn't stay to talk about Harry actually."
Snape sobered as well. He gazed at Draco from his seat cautiously. "What is it?"
Draco raised a hand to his chest, pressing it, and frowning when he still felt a slight burn at the area he pressed. "It's a bit painful," he admitted. It didn't surprise him when Snape narrowed his eyes. He continued. "It feels like during those coughing fits but minus the actual coughing fit? The burn's just there. Not much. Kind of like a mild heart burn after eating too much."
Snape clicked his tongue. He stood up from his seat, striding purposefully towards the potions' cabinet. "Is this the first time since the Amortentia incident?"
Draco's face still flushed at the Amortentia incident as he remembered his embarrassment. He cleared his throat. "Yes."
"Did anything…" Snape paused in his search and looked at Draco over his shoulder. "Untoward happen?"
Draco quickly shook his head, realizing that Snape thought it could have been because of Carrow.
Finally, Snape found what he was looking for and he came back to Draco with a tincture of belladonna. As he gave the bottle, he peered down at Draco's face. He narrowed his eyes yet again at Draco's unusually pale complexion and the slightly dark circles under his eyes. "Did you get any sleep?"
Draco was just starting to shake his head when Snape bellowed, "Foolish boy! The body works optimally during sleep! You've just given the Dragon's Blood invitation to seep through your veins, what with your body too tired to defend itself properly."
He clicked his tongue again in frustration. He glared at Draco's guilty expression. "Well, what are you waiting for? Drink up."
With a grimace, Draco unstopped the bottle and downed it in one go.
Snape sighed exasperatedly. "Go to Pomfrey and tell her what happened. I'll have your dinner delivered to the Infirmary."
Draco placed the bottle on Snape's desk. He chanced a look up at Snape and asked, "Will I be fine though?"
Snape's glare intensified. "You will be if you do as I say and get some sleep tonight."
Draco almost looked sheepish but figured that might irate his godfather even more. He grimaced again in guilt. "I will."
Satisfied, Snape nodded. "Go on then. Infirmary."
Harry Potter wasn't surprised when he woke up to the white and dreary ceiling of the Infirmary. Personally, he had always thought of it as dreary, having woken up to it every time he got into accidents or bagged himself another injury – which was way too often than he would have liked. It only stopped being dreary for a little while ever since that fateful morning when he woke up to sunshine and blond hair and realized quite abruptly that he was really was in love with Draco Malfoy.
But now, waking up alone with no sunshine or blond hair in sight, the dreariness of the white ceiling made his head hurt.
Vaguely, he could hear the pitter and patter of footsteps in the distance, sounding softer and softer until it was cut off by the clicks of the door of the Infirmary opening and closing.
And then silence.
A deafening silence that became louder and louder as time went on, even when Harry raised his weak arms to cover his ears.
It wasn't working.
He needed noise.
Something, anything to get away from the piercing sounds of the cupboard door closing, Dudley stomping on the stairs, Uncle Vernon shouting at him, Cedric screaming, Sirius' last words, Dumbledore's, the war... and Draco's voice: "Don't bother fucking lying to me, Potter."
He sat up, hands scrambling for the sheets around his waist and the curtains around his bed to push them aside. As he hoisted himself off the mattress and onto his feet, his vision started to swim and blood rushed to his already aching head, making him feel like it was being inflated with hot air.
He stood still for a while, closing his eyes and laying a hand on the side of the bed for support while waiting for his world to right itself. His ears seemed plugged, and the deafening silence that had been piercing earlier molded into something that sounded like it was being funneled.
As a result, he didn't hear the door opening and closing again or the rushed footsteps that quickly made their way over to him.
He yelped in shock when hands grabbed his shoulders and he struggled violently, his panic triggering his fight response.
"Harry, ssh, sshhh…" A voice in his ear crooned.
Harry felt relief rack through his body in shudders as he realized who it was. He sagged against those hands, letting himself fall against a warm, broad chest as his knees wobbled and gave way due to both the lengthened sleep and the sudden emotional stress. "Draco…"
Arms wound around his torso and hands soothingly rubbed circles on his back.
But the tension on his shoulders didn't give way and all his insecurities came rushing back to him, all those memories that he had tried so hard to forget, that Carrow had easily dug up…
"I wasn't going to lie," he was suddenly saying, rushed and breathy and desperate. "Honest. I swear, Draco –"
"Hey."
The arms around him tightened, and so did Draco's voice. It sounded strained and emotional, especially with his next words.
"Harry. Look at me."
He suddenly found himself very scared to look up into Draco's face, afraid to see the hurt and betrayal there. He kept his face down, even when Draco pulled him away slightly to get a better look at him. He wasn't sure he could take it if he saw that expression again, it would probably tear him apart, he wasn't ready –
Draco's lips found his.
And in a rush, all the nerves and tension drained from his body as if sucked out by some unknown force, maybe Draco's kiss, and he kissed back hard, hands going around Draco's body to clutch at his robes on his back.
Draco was okay, they were okay, they were going to be okay.
And when they pulled apart and Draco held him close, sighing deeply and raggedly as he pushed Harry against his chest tightly, as if desperate, Harry realized that he hadn't been the only one worrying.
Dinner was spent in the Hospital Wing, served graciously and enthusiastically by Dobby. They took up Draco's bed, with Harry complaining that his own bed was too warm and his sheets rather smelly after he had lain upon it, unmoving, for so many hours.
They sat across each other, plates of food between them and also on their bedside tables.
Harry ate eagerly, appetite undaunted by everything that had happened. Or maybe that could be because of Draco's presence, because having him around, Harry realized, certainly kept unwanted memories at bay.
As they ate, Draco relayed what happened after Harry had passed out.
"Professor Lupin saved the day," Draco started off, knowing that such an introduction to his story would certainly have Harry's ears perking up and his smile appearing. "I don't know how yet. I haven't had the chance to talk to Severus about it, but they captured Carrow, interrogated him for a bit before sending him off with the Aurors."
He kept his eyes on the food he was gathering on his spoon just in case Harry asked about the 'interrogation' bit.
Harry did.
"They figured out what Carrow wanted?"
Draco nodded. "Also how he controlled Professor Bridgewood, Morgan and Nott."
At the mention of the last name, Harry's face clouded over. The thought that he had been Imperiused so easily, succumbed to Amortentia without even batting an eyelash… It sent small shivers of fear down his spine. When he finally shook his morose thoughts out of his head, he realized that Draco had been perusing him carefully.
Harry felt tendrils of his insecurities reaching out for him again. "Are you…" he asked, pausing in his eating and licking his lips nervously. "Are you really okay with what happened?"
To his surprise, a snort of laughter escaped Draco's lips.
Draco shook his head and smiled at him fondly. "I should be the one asking that question, Harry."
Harry's cheeks burned but he shook his head, adamant that he get his reply. "You're avoiding the question. I… I need to know," he pleaded.
Draco briefly thought about lying. But no. He was already omitting too many truths and their already fragile relationship wasn't going to get better if he topped it off with lies as well. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. An image of Theodore Nott pushing Harry against the wall and pressing their lips together flashed behind his eyelids.
"I'll get over it," he let out finally, breathily. He opened his eyes and looked at Harry, took in his anxious look and the way his eyebrows furrowed together in worry. He smiled slightly. When he spoke, his voice was just a little bit bitter. "I got over you and that Ravenclaw Seeker. And you and the Weasley girl. I'll be fine, Harry."
If his voice broke off during that last sentence, then he prayed that it would be ignored.
And Harry realized, with his heart close to bursting, just how much Draco had loved him all those years.
He chuckled.
"I wish I had that little lie detecting ability of yours," he said, putting down his utensils. He got off the bed, walked over to Draco's side, and gave Draco's surprised look a wry smile that quickly became sad. "So that at least when I tell you what a horrible liar you are, it'll be believable."
Draco's breath held. His fork and spoon fell from his hands as he felt his eyes warm, all the emotions that he had kept hidden and restrained for the past day suddenly pouring forth against his will. He looked at Harry's eyes as his hand reached out to clutch at Harry's shirt. "Can I kiss you? I just, I just need –"
Harry's lips were on his in a second and it was the most glorious feeling. It was like all the anxiety and trepidation left him in that single instance and Draco, for the first time since yesterday, finally let himself relax completely against the arms that were thrown around his shoulders and the lips that kissed him with fervor.
They still had a lot to talk about; it was true.
But right now, Draco was content enough to whisper soothingly, shakily, against Harry's ear, "Everyone's fine now, Harry."
It was a lie. There were still a lot of things that needed to be stitched back together and fixed, but when Harry relaxed and sought out his lips once more, Draco realized that sometimes, there were some lies that needed to be said.
When Madame Pomfrey found them, all traces of food were gone. All that was left were two young boys, one lying asleep on the bed and the other awake sitting up beside him.
The smile that appeared on Madame Pomfrey's face was easy. "I'm glad to see that you're up and about, Mister Potter," she said quietly as she neared their bed. She glanced at Draco's sleeping form, his arm thrown haphazardly across Harry's blanketed lap and his face pressed against Harry's blanketed thigh. "And that Mister Malfoy is not."
That earned her a confused look from Harry, one which she smoothed away quickly with her next words. "He hasn't slept since yesterday. He was very worried about you."
She took out her wand and performed quick diagnostic spells on Harry, politely ignoring the array of emotions that flashed openly on the boy's face at that information. She gave a satisfied nod of her head at her findings. "I dare say you're able enough to go back to classes tomorrow."
Harry grinned at her gratefully.
She then cast the same spells on Draco.
"Professor Snape has informed me that Mister Malfoy's been experiencing burning sensations around his chest area," she explained, already expecting Harry's next question as soon as he had opened his mouth.
Harry closed his mouth and pressed his lips together with a disturbed look.
Madame Pomfrey smiled at his obvious concern. To think that just a few weeks ago these two boys were biting each other's heads off… Ah, youth really was a beautiful thing.
"We believe that it's just a product of his fatigue and lack of sleep," she reassured him and procured a tincture of belladonna from her pocket. "Be a dear and give this to him when he wakes up, would you?"
Harry took it from her and put it carefully on the bedside table. As he did so, he asked Madame Pomfrey a question that had been nagging at him even before he had dinner with Draco.
"Why didn't you heal his hand?"
Madame Pomfrey, who had been in the process of closing the curtains around the bed, paused and glanced at Draco's bandaged hand, the one that was thrown across Harry's lap. "Upon his request," she replied softly.
Harry was surprised. Something serious had to have happened to make Draco refuse healing, and he had a horrible feeling that it involved him. His heart twisted at the thought. "Could you heal him?" he asked. His expression turned sheepish as he said his next words, "At my request?"
Madame Pomfrey smiled at him, and if Harry looked closely, he could even say that her smile looked relieved. "I thought you'd never ask. You must realize the grief it causes me to leave an ailment untreated…"
Harry carded his fingers through Draco's hair as Madame Pomfrey did her magic with a few flicks of her wand. When Draco grumbled in his sleep and pressed closer against Harry's thigh, Harry smiled happily.
As the lights of Hogwarts castle was extinguished one by one and everyone, even the ghosts and the portraits, went to sleep, there was one part of the castle that was bustling with activity. To be more specific, it was bustling with active owls. Remus entered his office with a gnawing sense of dread as owls, one after the other, flew in and out of his open window, all of them leaving letters on top of the already growing pile on his desk.
He glanced at the letters, wondering if they were spiked with hexes. He found himself nervously looking at the pile to see if there were any glaring red envelopes that was the mark of a Howler, a habit that he had never really shaken off ever since the Wizarding World found out that he was a werewolf.
Even after the War, when stories of his participation in the victory against Voldemort and biographies of his life filled with fallacies popped up, Howlers came as frequently as letters of gratitude and requests to carry his offspring. (The later disturbed him more than the Howlers, admittedly.)
He neared the pile cautiously, casting Protego around himself and keeping his wand out just in case some infernal creature was hiding within the pile. Was one of these letters a Portkey perhaps?
He frowned. This was all so peculiar.
With a few flicks of his wand, he had cast surveying and checking spells on the pile. The whole pile glowed blue once, signaling that it was safe and hex-free.
Remus blinked.
So, so peculiar.
"Does it still surprise you to know that people do herald you as a hero?"
He jumped in surprise at the voice, but no fear crept up on him because he'd recognize that voice anywhere. He turned towards the doorway, smiling slightly in greeting. "Severus. Good evening."
Snape nodded at him and then glanced at his messy desk. "The story must have leaked out of the Ministry. Be ready for tomorrow's paper."
Owls continued to come and go, and Remus' nerves became more frazzled at the thought of being surrounded by owls during breakfast. Maybe he could skip it…?
"You were quite the hero," Snape commended, entering Remus' office in swift strides. A quick swish of his wand and the haphazard pile arranged itself into neat columns of envelopes. As the owls dropped letter after letter, they were sucked in by the magic to fall primly on top of the column it fell nearest to.
Remus flushed at Snape's words and at Snape's flash of magic to fix his things, but most especially the latter because it felt somehow… intimate to him. It had been a long time since anyone used wand magic to help him, and he had forgotten how nice it felt.
"I was no hero," he waved Snape's words off and walked over to his desk to collect his papers there, taking care not to disturb the letters or get in the owls' way. "Besides, you weren't there," he said lightheartedly.
Snape waved his words off. "News travel fast around Hogwarts." Then, he looked pointedly at the stack of letters. "And the Wizarding World as well, apparently."
He was next to Remus now, subtly scanning the letters for any red ones as he continued speaking. "You should get used to the commendation, Remus. You'll be asked to deliver many speeches in the future. Banquets will be held in your name."
Remus was sure his ears were red by now. Out of the blue, a memory flashed through his mind's eye – the Marauders, a prank gone wrong, the full moon, the Whomping Willow – and he was suddenly very, very thankful for Snape's words. They were proof that they have gone past that now. After all, they were now mature adults who have gone through a war together, and they weren't getting any younger.
"You as well," he muttered, eager to reflect the topic of the conversation from him.
Snape scoffed. "I plan to refuse them all, of course."
That had the corner of Remus' lips quirking up. It was so Snape-like to refuse them all with a sneer and an aristocratic wave of his hand. "Of course." Then, as he didn't believe that Snape had come by just to shower praise upon him, he asked, "So to what do I owe you this visit?"
"Madame Pomfrey has informed me that Potter is awake."
Remus sucked in a breath. His eyes widened, and he felt like he could have sprinted past Snape and straight to the Infirmary had Snape not held on to his arm right then and there.
"He is fine and of a cheery composition," Snape said, as firmly as he held Remus. It made him cringe a bit to use Pomfrey's words in describing the Potter boy but he felt that they were the most effective for Remus' ears. "Pomfrey will accept visitors in the morning."
Remus' face fell and that was when Snape recognized the dark circles under his eyes. He resisted the urge to cluck his tongue. Honestly, was being surrounded by people who knew how to take care of themselves too much to ask?
"Oh, do try to act less like a sniveling mother figure. Potter will not die nor will he be permanently incapacitated or disoriented." He tried to keep the bite out of his tone but old habits die hard.
Remus, thankfully, didn't seem to take insult with his tone. In fact, he actually gave a start, as if snapping out of his stupor, before sending Snape a small, apologetic smile. "You're right," he said, sighing heavily. "James and Lily wouldn't have been like this."
Snape's nose wrinkled at the mention of James Potter's name, but Remus took it the wrong way and his eyes widened in horror.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I – well – I wasn't thinking," he stammered, unconsciously trying to extricate himself from Snape's grip.
Snape, surprised at his reaction, held tighter on reflex.
Remus continued on, oblivious. "I apologize. Of course you wouldn't be over it, I mean, Lily was such a wonderful lady…"
Snape relaxed. So that was it. He let go of Remus' arm and did his best to act nonchalant. "She was," he said with a nod. "But I have learned to move on as she would have wanted me to." Moving on from what James did to him, of course, was another story. "There is nothing to apologize for."
Remus' face flushed as he realized that he had been rambling.
"Are you done with your papers?" Snape asked, eyeing the stack of papers that Remus had collected in his arms during their conversation.
Still embarrassed, Remus nodded dumbly. "Yes, I am, err – thanks."
Snape nodded, and together, they walked towards the door, leaving the owls to come and go as they pleased.
As they entered the dark and quiet hallway, Remus' brain caught up with the events and in his shock, he couldn't help himself from blurting out his next words, "You haven't."
Snape stopped in his tracks. In the dim light of the torches lining the hall, Remus could see an eyebrow raised.
Remus shrugged. "You haven't moved on. Your Patronus is still…" he trailed off, heart twisting at the memory. It still stung.
To his surprise, Snape's features relaxed and the man continued on walking. "There are spells to cover the true appearance of one's Patronus."
Remus' eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Snape's Patronus wasn't a doe anymore…? "Why did you cover it up then when you sent it to Professor McGonagall?"
Snape barely spared him a glance when he answered. "I didn't send it to the Headmistress. I sent it to you."
Remus' emotions warred with each other for supremacy then. There was confusion as to why Snape sent it to him specifically as well as a piercing hurt that Snape thought it necessary to hide the true form of his Patronus from him. And just after he had thought that they had completely gone past their teenage animosity…
As he tried to gather his thoughts, he hadn't realized that they had reached the point where they were to go their separate ways towards their respective bedrooms. He only realized it when Snape muttered a stiff good night and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the darkness.
When Harry Potter woke up, he was subjected to a sudden breath freshening charm and Draco Malfoy's lips, in that order.
Harry groaned in pleasure at the attention and at Draco's tongue slipping past his lips. When they pulled apart, he was pretty sure he had a lopsided grin on his face. "Good morning to you too," he murmured shyly.
Draco's smirk at Harry's dazed expression was easy. He arranged Harry's arm so that he could rest his head on it and threw his arm across Harry's chest. "Madame Pomfrey healed my hand even though I asked her two days ago not to," he started nonchalantly.
"Hmm, imagine that," Harry replied innocently.
Draco propped himself up on his elbow to look at Harry. "Yeah," he murmured softly. His eyes softened and the smile on his face was all for Harry, no one else, and all of those combined made Harry's breath stop. "Imagine that."
Everyone had their own theories as to why Harry Potter was suspiciously absent during and after the day that Amycus Carrow had been captured. Ron Weasley, being Harry's best mate and having Harry's best interests at heart, took it upon himself to spread the rumor that Harry Potter had eaten too much treacle tart and just merely had a bad case of diarrhea.
Ron had told Harry all this with a big, smug grin on his face, completely unaffected by the way Harry's mouth dropped open in horror. Hermione at least had the decency to turn pink and stammer to explain why she didn't stop her boyfriend's antics. "They believed it, you see. Quite easily, in fact…"
Upon hearing of this, Harry was sorely tempted to spend another day absent from classes but of course, Madame Pomfrey was having none of this.
"You are a student first and foremost, Mister Potter," she admonished. "And Savior of the Wizarding World or not, I will not allow you to excuse yourself from classes merely upon your whim."
Harry flushed, both at the fact that he was being lectured and also at how Madame Pomfrey had used his abhorred 'title'. "Yes, Madame Pomfrey," he answered dejectedly.
"You can sit with us in the Slytherin Table," Draco offered in a way that was too happy, as if he didn't care that the whole school was now gossiping about the Golden Boy's loose bowel movement. With the thought of having Harry to himself during breakfast, he probably didn't. "You know, to avoid Gryffindors shoving their faces up yours," he finished wisely.
"That's a good idea," Hermione said, clapping her hands with a smile. "Ron and I will join you."
She pretended not to notice the look of ghastly horror on Ron's face and the petulant pout that appeared on Draco's lips.
Harry found himself cheered up suddenly and immensely at his friends' and boyfriend's thoughtfulness.
(He was not going to blush at the word boyfriend, he was not, he was not.)
Draco was supposed to have Harry all to himself that breakfast. It was right and just, after all, after Draco had nearly driven himself to mental and emotional exhaustion yesterday. The universe should have arranged for it. Good karma and all that.
So why was the Slytherin Table crawling with Gryffindors?!
"We were really worried sick about you, Harry," Dean Thomas said.
Seamus Finnigan nodded enthusiastically. "Thought Draco'd buggered you so much you couldn't stand up from your bed."
Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. Draco found that he could quite willingly welcome Seamus in the Slytherin Table.
"I told them that wasn't it, but they wouldn't believe me," Neville Longbottom tried to explain.
He sat beside Blaise, who leaned towards Draco and hissed fiercely, "What is this, the Gryffindor Invasion?"
Pansy, surprisingly, was having a decent conversation with Ginny Weasley, even if they were completely disagreeing on the beauty (or lack of, as Pansy was saying) of Quidditch.
"It's absolutely barbaric," Pansy huffed out.
"You'd be surprised how fun being on the air is," Ginny replied, not at all offended. "Just steer clear of the Bludgers and it's quite exhilarating."
Pansy scoffed. "Well, you'll never see me engage in such a Neanderthal activity."
"Okay," Ginny said. "After the game on Saturday. I'll wait for you by the pitch."
Pansy choked on her pumpkin juice.
Ron was muttering to Hermione what a monster his sister was, to which Hermione just rolled her eyes at.
Draco could find Ginny Weasley pleasant; he really could… just as long as she stayed at least three seats away from Harry.
Suddenly, Harry leaned in closer to him and muttered something lowly under his breath. "Why is it that when they talk about us doing you know, it's always you doing the buggering?"
Draco forgot his Malfoy demeanor long enough to burst out in easy laughter for a good minute.
Harry settled back with a soft grin and a pleased expression at the sight of his boyfriend so happy.
He knew then, with certainty, that everything really was going to be okay.
