Chapter 16

~*~ Present day ~*~

"Push down against my hand. Ok good, how does that feel?"

"Slight pain in my lower back but not too bad."

"Ok, now try the other leg. Good, that feels nice and strong. Similar sort of pain?"

"Yeah, it's bearable."

"Any nerve pain today?"

"No…it's been a lot better in the last week."

Ron smiled and said, "Amazing what a week of good sleep and specifically tailored potions will do, eh?"

"Tell me about it," Harry said with a laugh as Ron released his foot. He sat back against the sofa and did a quick mental inventory of how he felt, pleasantly surprised to find that, bar a slight all-over dull ache, he was feeling pretty good. "I know it's not a long-term solution, that I need this curse out of my system, but finding the right treatment in the meantime is such a relief."

"I know," Ron said, placing his hand on Harry's knee and giving it a squeeze. "I think we've developed a good protocol for managing the condition and none of the magic is interfering with the curse so we're in a good position."

Harry basked in the joy that such simple physical contact could give him and tried not to smile too widely. They were existing in a kind of tentative truce and they seemed to have an unspoken agreement that neither of them would mention the issues that existed between them.

Ron had visited every day since he had first delivered the news about the true nature of Harry's attackers and he'd stayed for a good couple of hours each time. Harry knew that things weren't mended, not by a long way, but it was a step and he felt better for the fact that they could exist in the same room without shouting at one another.

"Have you heard any news about…the people who did this?" Harry asked and Ron shook his head.

"Kingsley's devoted his best team to it, they're using every resource possible to track them down."

"I still can't believe it, Ron," Harry said with a heavy sigh. "I thought it was an end to it all those years ago. I never dreamed – "

"Stop or you'll send your blood pressure through the roof again," Ron warned, getting out of his chair and coming to sit next to Harry on the sofa. "I know this is tough and I can't stop thinking about it either but you're safe here, you know that."

"It isn't about being safe…at least…not in that way. I thought it was all over, I thought it belonged to the past, I thought I was free."

"Harry," Ron said gently, reaching up to brush the hair back from Harry's forehead, "can you honestly tell me you were ever free of it?"

Harry didn't know what to say. The truth, of course, was no, he'd never put it behind him, not in any real sense. He'd run away from it, as far and as fast as he could and he'd managed to convince himself that, because Voldemort was dead, that was an end to it. It wasn't, he knew it wasn't, and he also knew that if he didn't face up to it soon there was the very real chance it would swallow him whole.

"I don't know what to do, Ron."

Ron let his hand rest lightly on Harry's cheek before he took hold of Harry's hand and held it gently before he said, "Have you…have you considered seeing a mind healer?"

"No," Harry said stiffly, wanting to pull his hand away but too comforted by the gesture to do so.

"Harry – "

"I don't want someone rooting around in my head. I'm not a fucking loony, I don't need – "

"Seeing a mind healer has nothing to do with being a loony, it's about talking to a professional who can help you work through some very real issues. If you had a broken leg would you just leave it? Would you walk around on it and go about your life like normal? Of course you wouldn't. Mental health is the same thing, Harry."

"I don't want to sit with some nice little lady in a cardigan talking about my….feelings while she writes notes on me and judges everything about me."

"Mind healing isn't like that," Ron insisted. "Look, I'm not going to force you to do anything but I'd like you to consider it. Promise me that you will."

Harry gritted his teeth and nodded reluctantly, knowing there was no other way to get Ron off his back. Ron squeezed his hand and said, "Good. Well, I should be on my way. I've stayed longer than I meant to."

"I was…actually hoping that you might stay for dinner. You could floo Drake, ask him to come too?"

Harry was so braced for a rejection that when Ron smiled and said, "That would be great, thanks," he was so flooded with relief it nearly made him go giddy. He left Ron in the living room and all but bounced into the kitchen, going over all the recipes he knew in his mind and trying to decide which would be best to make.

"He's staying," he told Severus, finding the man at the kitchen table with a bunch of journals spread out in front of him.

"I told you he would," the man replied with a smile.

"What shall I cook? I don't want to do anything too fancy but I don't want him to think that I'm not making an effort. Maybe a stew? No, that's too homely. What about moussaka? Does Drake like that? Or something lighter, I don't – "

"Harry," Severus said, clearly amused, "whatever you make will be delicious."

He settled on a lasagne in the end. It was a cold, miserable day, which promised to turn into a cold, miserable evening and Harry thought they could all do with something hearty and filling. He hadn't cooked for Ron and Draco in years, hadn't hosted them in any way at all, and he was nervous about it. He wanted to do it though, he wanted to try and repair some of the damage that had been done to their friendship and he knew he had to start small.

Draco arrived, greeting Harry with a hug and telling him how well he looked. For once, Harry actually believed him. He dished up dinner and they all sat around the kitchen table, everyone complimenting him on the meal he'd made. Severus served them all a particularly fine wine but Harry abstained, citing the potions he was taking. The truth was that he'd made the decision to stop drinking altogether, having realised how dependent he was starting to become on it once he'd had to stop drinking initially.

"Did you ever hear back from that patient with the tap dancing compulsion?" Severus asked Ron while they ate, the conversation having been lively and mercifully free of drama.

Ron snorted and said, "I heard through the grapevine that he'd decided to embrace it and had become the national under-35s champion. Merlin knows what the hell sparked it, or even if he'd been cursed, but he seemed happy enough with the fact that he felt compelled to perform a tap dance every hour on the hour."

"What the hell kind of patients do you have?" Harry asked, buttering a sizeable chunk of bread and dabbing at the leftover sauce on his plate.

"A broad spectrum," Ron replied with a wry smile. "I'll be scaling back soon though, only 50% of my time will be clinical work, the rest will be…more academic."

"Been weighing up your options?" Severus asked with a knowing smile and Harry felt the usual twinge of jealousy he always did at their closeness, although this time the sting wasn't as painful as it usually was.

Ron nodded. "I think I'm going to accept the lecturer's position at St Mungo's. I like the idea of helping to train a new batch of medical workers and the position will give me a lot of accommodations to facilitate my research."

"What will that focus on?" Harry asked, interested.

"Emergency medicine," Ron replied, taking a sip of his wine. "I saw so much during the war and I did a lot of work in the emergency wards when I was training…I just know that there are ways to improve the way we do things and I'd like to marry muggle methods with magical ones, especially in instances where using magic could prove fatal to the patient."

"That sounds amazing," Harry said, impressed. "Medicine was always your gift, Ron. You saved so many lives during the war, I can only imagine how many you've saved since."

"Well – " Ron said, looking bashful.

Draco reached out and took his hand, saying with a smile, "No modesty, my love, Harry's right. Those of us who you saved are eternally grateful." He kissed Ron's knuckles and a charming blush spread over Ron's cheeks as he smiled at Draco. It was a beautiful sight to witness and Harry found himself watching with happiness rather than resentment.

"Well, a change in career trajectory isn't the only thing that's on the cards," Draco said, keeping hold of Ron's hand and turning back to face Harry and Severus. "Ron's decided that he wants to make an honest man of me; we're getting married."

"That's wonderful news!" Harry said with enthusiasm. "It's about bloody time."

"Congratulations," Severus said, his smile so warm and genuine that Harry felt like melting into his chair at the sight of it. "I'm so happy for you both."

Ron and Draco shared a look, Draco giving the smallest of nods before Ron said, "We'd like it if you'd both agree to be best man."

"It would be an honour," Severus said, the sincerity evident in his voice.

"Harry?" Ron said softly and Harry tried to find his voice.

He was stunned that Ron still wanted him to play such an important role, that their relationship was not so far beyond repair that he would be excluded from the happiest day of his friend's life. He was overcome with emotion and tears pricked his eyes and he swallowed and said, "I honestly can't think of anything that would make me happier."

Ron grinned and got to his feet, hauling Harry out of his seat and into a bone-crushing hug. Harry buried his face in the man's shoulder and held on tightly, overwhelmed but, for once, in a good way. "I won't fuck it up, Ron. I promise," he whispered.

"Shut up, you daft prick," Ron replied and gave him another squeeze before he released him.

They finished up with dinner then settled in the living room, the conversation turning to weddings and the kind Ron and Draco were envisioning for themselves. They both wanted a quiet, simple affair, something understated without much fuss. Harry could have never imagined, all those years ago, that one day he would be sitting with Draco Malfoy while the man discussed the possibility of marrying Ron in the garden of The Burrow on a warm summer's day.

His teenage self would have dismissed it as the stuff of fairy tales, the product of an overactive imagination, and a disturbed one at that. Now of course it made perfect sense and he was genuinely happy for his friends, who had gone through so much and had survived it together. He could hardly believe that he would get to stand alongside them and bear witness to such an important milestone in their lives.

"You were surprised to be asked," Severus said when Ron and Draco had left and he and Harry sat together on the sofa with a pleasant fire crackling cheerily beside them.

"I was," Harry replied, cradling a mug of tea to his chest. "I still am. I find it…unbelievable that he'd want me…after everything."

"He loves you," Severus said with certainty. "I know things are difficult but it's clear you're both trying, things aren't so very beyond hope."

"I'm starting to see that. I wish…I wish it hadn't been this fucking curse that brought me back but…I'm not sorry I'm here and…I want to stay."

"Stay?"

"In Britain," Harry clarified, lest Severus think Harry was attempting to saddle him with his presence in the cottage indefinitely. "Ron…talking about switching to academia made me think about my own work. I haven't been happy in it, not for a long time, and I need to make a change. I'm good at what I do, very good, but constantly being around dark magic, working from case to case, country to country…it isn't what I want anymore."

"What would you like to do instead?" Severus asked and Harry found himself grateful for the opportunity to discuss the matter.

"I don't know. Dark magic's my speciality, I wouldn't want to turn my back on it completely but…I don't want to carry on with what I've been doing. It's…getting to me, Severus. Before this bloody curse, I was…unhappy. There's so much bad in the world and I just kept being exposed to it. The things people do with dark magic, the people I've had to extract it from, the way people hate…It's exhausting."

"I had no idea you were struggling so much with it," Severus said and Harry gave a humourless laugh.

"How could you? I've hardly been great at keeping in touch, have I? The odd letter here and there, a generic couple of sentences, I could hardly slip in a paragraph about struggling with demons."

"It might have been better if you had."

"I know," Harry said with a nod. "I see that now. I thought…if I put enough distance between myself and the past…if I threw myself into my work…but…work just made it worse. I was surrounding myself with all the things I was trying to escape from and I was…in this pit…that just kept getting deeper. I don't want to do that anymore, Severus."

"Harry," Severus said, reaching for his hand and holding it gently. The simple gesture made Harry's heart beat fast and he wanted to stay in that moment for as long as he could. "You're welcome to stay here for as long as you like. You don't have to run anymore, let us help you."

"I want to," Harry said, his voice sounding thick. "I really do…but I don't know how. Ron…wants me to see a mind healer."

"That might be a good place to start."

"I don't know…I don't know if I can do this…if I'm strong enough."

"Then let us be strong for you. You're home, Harry, you're safe."

~*~ 8 years ago ~*~

"Would you please tell Severus to make these potions taste a little less foul?" Draco said as he pulled a remarkable face after downing the vial Harry had handed him.

"What makes you think I have any influence over what he does?" Harry replied, checking to see that Draco had taken everything he was supposed to.

"Potter, please," Draco said with a smirk. "Are we really going to keep pretending that you and Severus aren't…whatever it is that you are?"

"I don't know what you mean," Harry said, feeling his cheeks heat.

"So you've just been having sleepovers in your room as this week then? Braiding each other's hair, painting each other's nails…talking about boys?" Draco asked wickedly. "For heaven's sake, I've seen him coming out of your room every bloody morning, credit me with some intelligence."

Harry paused, biting his lip, looking around the room as though a bunch of other people had materialised despite the house being virtually empty. "Ok, yes," he said eventually. "We're…involved."

"Of course you are," Draco said, leaning back against the sofa and looking so effortlessly elegant Harry wanted to throw something heavy at his head. "It makes perfect sense."

"It does?" Harry asked, not sure if Draco was being sarcastic or not.

Draco nodded and said with an oddly gentle smile, "If you ask me the two of you belong together. A good thing too really as you're both head over heels in love with one another."

Harry gawped at the man, stunned into silence. "I…what do…how do you…"

"Harry, I've watched the pair of you this last week. It's as plain as the scar on your head."

"You can't know that that's how he feels about me."

"You're not denying that's how you feel about him."

"I…" Harry began, but judging by the look on Draco's face there would be little point in arguing with him. "Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I am. I didn't mean to be but…it just happened. I don't know how he feels though, I don't know what he wants. I mean…this was meant to just be casual, he was helping me figure some stuff out."

"Seems as though you've figured it out and, correct me if I'm wrong, but surely it's impossible for things to be casual if you're in love with the man."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and took his glasses off to clean them, trying to buy himself some time before answering. "It's a bit of a mess," he said, keeping his eyes down. "I love him but…this whole thing…I'm not sure it can end well."

"Who said anything about ending? Harry, he feels the same way you do but you'll never find that out if you don't speak to him."

"I can't," Harry said, feeling like a prat. "If I say something and he doesn't feel the same way…it'll kill me. I'd just rather…carry on with things the way they are for now. At least that way…I get to keep him for as long as possible."

"Oh heavens," Draco said with a frustrated huff. "It's like talking to stone."

Harry was about to argue but shut his mouth when Severus entered the living room, a roll of parchment in one hand and a quill in another. He took a seat on the sofa next to Harry and said, "All potions stores are replenished and the ingredients are well-stocked."

Harry narrowed his eyes at him and said, "Doing inventory because you'll be leaving soon?"

Severus lowered the parchment and looked at him. "In two days," he said, his expression apologetic but Harry knew there was little point in arguing.

He settled for nodding and looked at Draco, saying, "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

"He's benched until his sick leave is over," came a voice from the doorway and they all looked to see Ron standing there, looking exhausted but smiling from ear to ear.

Draco was up and out of his chair faster than Harry could blink and in Ron's arms so quickly he nearly knocked the man off his feet. Harry smiled as he watched the men embrace, Ron holding on tightly to Draco, heady relief evident in his face.

"I was so worried about you, you bloody stupid prat," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Draco's temple.

"You patched me up well," Draco said, pulling back to look at Ron. "And I've had an excellent nurse," he added, gesturing over his shoulder at Harry.

"Thank you for looking after him," Ron said with a grateful smile.

"No problem. He was a surprisingly good patient."

"Are you ok?" Ron asked Draco, cupping the man's chin gently and taking a good look at him. "Really ok I mean, no stupid brave fronts to save face."

"I'm fine," Draco assured him, taking hold of his hand. "I'm still a little sore and I can't say I'm keen to repeat the experience but I'm honestly ok."

"Maybe we should give you a little privacy," Harry said and Severus nodded, both of them getting up, Harry clapping Ron on the shoulder as they left the two men to their reunion.

They retreated to the kitchen, Harry lighting the kettle with his wand as he said, "Must be such a relief for Ron for be back here and to know that Draco's safe. I can't imagine how he's coped with no one able to send word to him. He must have been out of his mind with worry."

"It's a shame they won't get to spend much time together," Severus said quietly.

"Ron's going with you on the next assignment?" Harry surmised and Severus nodded. "Brilliant," he said bitterly. "Draco and I will just stay here and wait for you to get back. Dare I ask if you'll make it back in time for Christmas?"

"Harry – "

"Don't bother," Harry said with a sigh. "I know it's pointless to ask for details."

There was silence for a moment, Harry stewing slightly and Severus clearly feeling awkward about it. Eventually the man cleared his throat and said, "I um…I noticed that it's now possible to get into the second study on the 3rd floor. What happened?"

Disgruntled but not willing to have an argument with the man over things he couldn't control, Harry said, "I extracted the dark magic."

"You did what?" Severus asked, clearly surprised.

"I extracted it," Harry repeated. "I've had a lot of time on my hands lately and…I thought it might be a good use of it."

"But how? Everyone's tried their hand at ridding that room of the magic but no one's been successful."

"I've been doing a lot of research and…I don't know…I guess it comes naturally to me. If you can find the source of the magic, find its core, then you pick it apart like pulling on a thread. It can be dangerous but if you're slow and careful…you just do what makes sense."

"Harry that's…very impressive. There aren't many who would be able to do that."

Harry shrugged and said, "It's just instinct. You listen to the magic, listen to what it tells you and then…follow the instructions."

"Listen to the magic?" Severus repeated, clearly confused.

"Yeah," Harry said with a nod. "You can…hear it. I mean…I can. Can't other people?"

"No, Harry," Severus said softly. "I've never known anyone who could hear magic before."

"Oh," Harry said, frowning down at the tea caddy he'd picked up. "Guess this makes me even more of a freak, huh?"

"Don't say that," Severus said, closing the distance between them. He placed his hand on Harry's cheek and said, "It's unusual, I grant you, it's very unique but it's not a negative thing."

"Sure," Harry said glumly. He was about to ask what kind of tea Severus wanted when there was an almighty commotion from the living room. They shared a look, Harry's trepidation reflected back at him in Severus' eyes, then moved out of the kitchen to see chaos in the hallway.

15 or so Order members were crammed into the small space, all in varying degrees of distress. Some were clearly badly wounded, others were trying to help the injured and some simply looked shell-shocked to be there at all.

Ron and Draco were with them and Harry and Severus joined the mad scrum. Ron fell to command quickly and began to direct the others. Harry and Draco were to help those with minor injuries while he and Severus took the most severely wounded into the kitchen to be seen to. Hermione, George and Neville, who had escaped with no more than a few nasty scrapes were assisting with getting the injured into bedrooms, making sure they were fed and watered and as comfortable as they could be.

Draco, even with healing injuries of his own, proved to be efficient and skilled, and Harry was grateful to be working with him. They'd both learnt a lot from Ron and were able to treat those in their charge with care and competency. It wasn't yet clear what had happened but Harry was able to glean, from snatches of whispered conversations, that there had been a terrible attack on a muggle music festival, which the Order members had tried to mitigate.

It sounded like absolute carnage and it made Harry sick to his stomach to imagine what had happened that night. He focused on his task, grateful for Draco's presence, for the man's gentle guidance and the sensible and softly-spoken conversation he maintained throughout their work. He spoke soothingly to those they were tending and his gentle voice was a soothing tonic to Harry when he felt he could easily spiral out of control.

"Should we…go and see if they need help in the kitchen?" Harry asked when all their patients had been seen to and were deemed to be out of harm's way.

Draco glanced down the hallway to the closed door at the end, his expression pinched as he shook his head and said, "Best not to. They'll call us if we're needed."

"It was bad, wasn't it?" Harry said in a whisper. "I saw Flitwick and Seamus taken in there…and Tonks. It looked…it looked bad."

"Yes," Draco said softly. "It looked bad." He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "Come on, everyone's taken care of for now, let's go and take a quick break."

"I…don't think – "

"Come on," Draco said gently but firmly, giving Harry a little push and guiding him towards the stairs.

They went into the library that only admitted Harry, the wards sensing his willingness to allow Draco, and sat at the long, splintered table. Draco reached over and took Harry's hand in his own, Harry looking at him in surprise, the demonstrative gesture alien but very welcome.

"I'm not going to say it's ok, because it very obviously isn't," Draco said, his voice still comfortingly gentle, "but we've done all we can."

"It feels like it's getting worse," Harry whispered. "Like it can only get worse, like we're spiralling downwards. I feel like we're drowning, like I'm drowning."

Draco said nothing, which Harry was supremely grateful for, as there was nothing that could be said at that moment. Instead, Draco shifted his chair closer and wrapped an arm around shoulders, pulling him close and holding him tightly. It was so bizarre to be hugged by Draco Malfoy of all people but it was so comforting that Harry didn't care. He rested his head on the man's shoulder and tried to stop his body from shaking.

He knew the attack hadn't happened to him and part of him felt like a twat for reacting so badly to it when he didn't have a scratch on him and hadn't experienced it first-hand. He couldn't help but shake the horror of it though, the horror of seeing those people, people he knew, people he loved, return injured and in distress and, perhaps worse, he couldn't shake the feeling that it had all happened because of him.

Draco made him stay in the library for fifteen minutes and helped him get his breathing under control and stop the shaking that kept rattling his body. He was grateful for the man's support, strange as it was, and was proof, if proof were needed, that Draco had changed beyond recognition from their school days.

They came back down the stairs just in time to see Severus emerging from the kitchen, and Harry glimpsed behind him to see Ron wiping blood from his hands, his expression grim. Harry approached Severus slowly, his heart beating fast, afraid to ask what had happened in that room.

He met Severus' eyes and the man said thickly, "Flitwick's dead. Mr Finnegan and Ms Tonks have been stabilised and sent to the hospital but…no one can say for certain…"

"Oh my God," Harry breathed, bile rising in his throat. He felt Severus' hand curl around his neck and he was drawn to the man's side as Draco swept into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Ron.

"You'll get blood on you," Ron protested, his voice strained.

"Doesn't matter," Draco said softly.

"I couldn't save him, Drake," Ron said, his eyes closed as he buried his face in Draco's shoulder. "There was nothing I could do."

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and get you into bed."

"I don't think there are any rooms."

"Use mine," Severus said, and Harry nodded.

"Severus can stay with me tonight," he said quietly and Ron and Draco both managed to muster up a small smile for them both.

Draco, with his arm still wrapped around Ron's shoulders, shepherded him out of the room and Harry tried to take a few deep breaths to steady himself. He was shaking and his palms were clammy, a feeling of nausea threatening to overtake him.

"Are you ok?" he asked Severus. "He was…your friend."

"I fear I won't be able to properly think about it for some time," Severus replied, his eyes hollow, dark smudges beneath them, and his face paler than usual. "Is everyone seen to?" he asked, and Harry nodded. "Then let's go up. I want to see an end to this wretched day."

They made their way to Harry's room, using cleaning spells to rid themselves of the proof of the carnage that had taken place. Neither seemed to know what to say and so they simply climbed into bed together, their limbs entwining as they held one another, the horrors of the night settling about the room heavily.

Neither slept but they didn't talk, there was no sound apart from their quiet breathing and the creaks of the old, miserable house. Harry thought of all the people lying in in the house's bedrooms, all recovering from the vicious assault, some wounded badly, others carrying trauma of a different kind. He felt as though he might suffocate, that the walls of the horrid, cursed old house were closing in on him and might crush him. If it weren't for the man holding him, he feared it would be all too easy to go mad.

AN: Apologies again for no review replies, things are just very busy but I really appreciate each and every comment from you all. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. It feels bleak, I know, but this is the most realistic story I've written and it isn't always pretty. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts.