Once again, I am bored and sick of never finding good DMxHP fics to read.
If anyone knows of some, by god, send them to be before I go nutz. For all
of you anxiously waiting for the continuation of Juliet and Romeo, I have
had finals all this week, so I skipped the update I had planned for next
week to study. I should have the next section up on Friday or Saturday of
this week. Yeah. Until then, enjoy this momentary insanity that popped into
my head on yesterday like a piece of popcorn and wouldn't go away.
Hopefully I can get some sleep now without the idea intruding on my dreams.
Well, enjoy. I'm putting off studying for finals to write this. I'm such a
procrastinator. (like I really want to study for contemporary problems.
.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the strange thing that serves as a plot. *coughyeahrightcough*
Enjoy.
It's Called a Radar, Stupid
Harry Potter, AKA Mr. I'm-a-god-to-the-wizarding-world-because-I'm-the-boy- who-fucking-lived-now-get-over-it-for-crying-out-loud, was sitting on muggle bus 44, being bored as he rode from work to the stop that would take him as close to his apartment as the metro transit system would take him. The smelly thing was filled with college students studying at the local university, screaming children and their irritated mothers, and old creepy guys who kept giving him long looks.
~I hate this stupid city,~ Harry thought as he looked out the window that was being assaulted by the rain from the billionth storm that had hit the city of Seattle that week.
~I hate this stupid state.scratch that. I hate the whole fucking country. I want to go back to England.~ Harry mentally whined to himself, yet he knew all along that it wasn't possible until the population decided to calm down and knock it off with the fan letters they had been sending him ever since his most recent defeat of Voldemort.
Harry sighed as the bus stopped again to let on more passengers, and let off only a few.
~As if this bus isn't crowded enough as it is. I hate rush-hour bus traffic. You'd think the damned country would have a working transit system by now.~
He huffed and held his briefcase close, not wanting some petty thief to make off with it, since it held "important" documents his boss wanted him to deliver to the tax office near his apartment on his way home.
~At least no one I know will ever find me here. Face it, one of the last places the wizarding world will ever look for The-Boy-Who-Is-Now-The-Man- Who-Lived is Seattle, Washington, USA, which is why I chose the damned place in the first place. I can't handle the attention any more. All I ever wanted was a nice normal life, maybe a nice home in a suburb or in the country with a garden and some lovely flowers.and a dog and a couple of children would be nice.and a handsome husband who comes home every day shouting 'Harry, babe! I'm HOOOOOME' like that stupid dude on 'I Love Lucy.' Bah. Who am I kidding, other than myself? I'll probably either be stuck living in this stupid city, working for that stupid department store, for the rest of my life, or, should my luck not hold out, I'll be back in England, swarmed by press and admirers until I either die of old age or commit suicide to rid myself of the nuisances.~
Harry sighed. The rain was not helping his mood, nor was the frigid wind that smacked him in the face like a two-ton sack of bricks whenever the bus doors opened. If there were two things Harry hated more than Voldemort, it was the rain and the cold, although they only took second to fangirl swarms and the press watching his every move. Leaning his head against the cold glass, Harry winced and watched the traffic light in front of the stopped bus change from green to yellow to red. Due to the traffic, they had been stuck in the same position for an entire light cycle. With another sigh, Harry smacked his head against the window lightly, over and over again. The bus finally moved, only to stop again on the other side of the intersection to pick up more people. Harry leaned his head back against the seat in despair. It was going to be midnight before he got home! Closing his eyes, he waited as the next wave of passengers got on.
Harry felt rather than heard someone stop next to his seat, but didn't bother to open his eyes.
"Mind if I sit here?" a somewhat familiar voice asked. Harry had trouble placing it, but lacked the resolve to open his eyes, let alone care. For a response, Harry shrugged and felt the man, for the voice was too low to be a woman's, sit down in the vacant seat next to him. There was a long period of silence as Harry continued to sink further into his depression, and the bus began to move again. Finally, just as Harry was beginning to feel carsick.or rather, bussick.from the motion of the bus with his closed eyes, the man next to him spoke again.
"Could I trouble you for your signature, Mr. Potter?" the voice asked in an incredibly familiar sarcastic drawl that Harry couldn't place. His eyes immediately snapped open, though, as his head popped up, and were caught up by a pair of silvery-gray orbs that were all too familiar.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Tsk! Such manners, Mr. Potter! Unless I am mistaken, we were on better terms than that when we last parted ways."
"You know what I mean. What do you want with me?"
"Harry," Draco said, looked saddened. "It's been almost an entire year since we've seen each other and that's all you can say to me?"
"Answer my fucking question, Malfoy, before I break your face."
"You were a lot nicer the last time we met."
Their. "discussion" was beginning to attract the attention of the rest of the bus, so Harry lowered his voice.
"What do you want, Malfoy? Why the hell are you here? And how the fucking hell did you find me?"
"This," Draco said, holding up a small object that had a blinking green dot in the middle of it.
"What the fuck is that?"
"It's called a radar, stupid. How else do you think I would track down the world's most famously illusive superhero?"
"Is that all you're here for? Or do you actually have a purpose for disturbing my peace?"
"Sheesh. Your temper sure hasn't improved since we parted ways. What would mummy say if she could hear you now?"
"She'd probably agree with me. Get the hell away from me."
"Tsk. Fine. If you're going to act like that, I won't give you this," Draco said, waving a small package under Harry's nose. It was sealed with the seal of Dumbledore himself.
"You act like you think I want anything to do with you or Dumbledore or Fudge or any of the rest of those idiots," Harry said, shoving Draco's occupied hand away from him. "There's a reason I left, Draco, and it wasn't so that you could come after me with your radar thingie." He snorted. "Now, if you don't mind, let me up. This is my stop," Harry said, standing as the bus pulled to a stop before a house that had apparently been turned into an Asian restaurant of some kind.
"Is it really? Quel coincidence! It's mine too!" Draco said, with a feigned joy that was getting on Harry's nerves.
"Oh goodies," Harry replied as the two of them got off the bus. Harry stalked off towards his apartment, praying to any god that would listen that Draco wouldn't follow him, but apparently they were all currently occupied. Draco merely smiled and followed Harry right up to the door of Harry's apartment. Harry had just gotten out his keys when he was finally fed up of playing the game. He slammed the door open and glared at Draco.
"Are you going to go away or do you have to come in?" he asked, sulking.
"I need to talk to you," Draco replied, this time far more serious than Harry had seen him all day. "It's really important."
"Oh goodies," Harry said, walking rudely in, and leaving Draco to follow or not as he would. "Where have I heard that before? Let's see.maybe.EVERY GODDAMNED TIME SOMETHING COMES UP THAT EVERYONE ELSE IS TOO LAZY TO DEAL WITH SO THEY ASSUME THE CHORE IS MINE TO PICK UP AND TAKE ON?!" Harry shouted at Draco, who had managed to get the door closed just in time to stop Harry's outburst from reaching the street. Harry was livid. Draco was calm.
"You overreact," Draco stated simply. Harry looked about to explode.
"I overreact? I OVERREACT?? YOU WANT TO SEE OVERREACTING? I'LL SHOW YOU OVERREACTING!!" Harry screamed. He was starting to lose control over his magic, and the vase that had been standing on the table near the door was flying around his head. "I THINK I HAVE A GODDAMNED RIGHT TO WANT PRIVACY THAT WON'T BE DISTURBED BY A BUNCH OF PRICKS WHO THINK THAT I CAN SOLVE ALL THEIR PROBLEMS FOR THEM!" The vase smashed into the wall a centimetre from Draco's head. Draco didn't even blink.
"Yes, you're overreacting," Draco repeated. "And you're assuming things you have no right to believe are true," he continued, his voice calm enough to bring Harry down a few notches. "For example, do you really think that I would allow myself to be dragged away from the business empire I'm supposed to be running to come find you to beg you to come back to the wizarding world and solve some other bastard's problems? First of all, Draco Malfoy is no messenger, as you should damned well know, and second, I do not beg. Especially not on someone else's behalf. I thought you knew me better than that, Potter. We certainly spent enough time together during the war for us to get to know each other really well."
Draco's voice betrayed no emotion, and Harry blushed slightly as he realized the truth of his words. Especially the last ones. He did know Draco better than that. They had spent some real. 'quality' time together in the days before Harry's final mission. Draco had been a spy back then, and Harry, the intended savior of the world, and, needless to say, in the face of Voldemort, they could easily put aside old differences to try and win. In fact, they even discovered they had fewer differences than they thought. The discovery had led to a series of nights spent in the company of each other, but in the end, they both decided that the relationship wouldn't last, so they had gone their separate ways. Until now, that was. Harry sighed, significantly calmed now, and capable of rational thought once more.
"Alright," Harry began, "So if you aren't here to beg me to save the world, what are you here for?"
"Ah, now I never said that, did I?" Draco asked, smirk in place. Harry felt himself growing angry again. So this was another plea to return to the wizarding world and be the savior! Harry's eyes narrowed and he glared at Draco.
"I am not coming back."
Draco's smirk widened.
"Aren't you going to ask me inside? Or if I would like a drink? I've been traveling all day today and most of yesterday to get here and find you, and that can really take it out of even a soulless being like myself."
Harry's eyes narrowed in anger again, but he realized that in the mood Draco was currently in, he wasn't going to get a word out of him unless he did what he wanted.
"Would you like to take a seat in the living room while I put on a pot of tea?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.
"Sounds wonderful," Draco said, smiling, and flounced into the living room. "Earl Grey with two sugars if it's not too much trouble," he said in a sickeningly sweet tone.
"Certainly," Harry managed, teeth still locked. He proceeded to make the tea. When it was made, he brought in the two cups and set one of them on the table before Draco. The other, he held as he sat across from Draco, sipping at it slowly, and trying to reign in his temper. With a grace Harry had always envied, Draco picked up his cup and took a careful sip. He nodded approvingly and set the cup back on the saucer, which he placed on the armrest of his chair. After a few more moments of silence, Draco once more picked the package he had waved before Harry on the bus, and threw it at Harry, whose only saving grace was the reflexes he had gained from quidditch, which saved both the package and the cup of tea Harry was holding.
"That's a gift from Dumbledore," Draco said. "No message or card. He just said that you would know what to do with it."
"I thought you were no man's messenger," Harry shot at Draco.
"This is a special occasion. I was coming this way anyways. And I don't consider myself a messenger, in this case, just the bearer of good tidings."
"Big difference," Harry said sarcastically as he unwrapped the package. Inside was a small silver coin and a pair of fuzzy red socks. Harry blinked, then classified the present as a typical Dumbledore one, and inspected the coin, which had weird markings on it. Draco simply raised one eyebrow, and said nothing. "Yeah, well so much for having a clue as to what to do with the damned things." Harry shook his head. "I think Dumbledore does these things on purpose."
"Probably. He is rather eccentric." Draco replied with a shrug. Harry sighed.
"So why are you here?" Harry asked. "You already said this wasn't the real reason why, so what is?"
"Do you really think you are ready to know?" Draco asked, taking another sip of his tea. Harry nodded. "Alright then, I'll tell you. I want you to save the world."
"I'm out of that line of work," Harry said, shaking his head. "Find yourself a new Batman or Scarman or whatever."
"You take me too generally," Draco insisted. "I didn't mean the whole world for all the people in it. My demand is much smaller and far more realistic."
"Oh, so which world would you like me to save then? Mars? Neptune? Kripton?"
"You wound me."
"I care."
"Since when did you turn into a Slytherin?"
"Since Voldemort hexed me the first time, actually. The Sorting Hat always wanted to put me into Slytherin. Said I'd do well."
"With a tongue like that, you would have."
There was a pause while Draco sipped at his tea.
"Would you like me to continue now, Harry, so you can hear the whole story and then decide without the need to jump to conclusions."
"Certainly. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get back to being a department store salesman in my boring little apartment, all alone without a care in the world."
Draco raised an eyebrow as he looked at Harry.
"You could dry that out and use it for fertilizer," Draco said simply, then continued. "Anyways, before I was interrupted, I was about to tell you what world I was asking you to save. I admit, it's not a big one, or one that's particularly important in the grand scheme of things, but I'm fond of it."
"Uranus?"
"Your wit astounds me. No, actually I was wondering if you would help save my sanity, or at least what small portion of it I have left."
"Your sanity?" Harry asked, confused.
"Yes," Draco replied lightly, then his voice darkened, and his face became serious. "Harry, it's starting to drive me insane, all the crap we dealt with. You know what I mean, even if you've locked your memories away in a little jar. Recently, I've been having nightmares, not the little kiddie ones, where the boogie man is after you, but I've been reliving parts of my life, parts I'd rather forget." Draco's eyes wandered from Harry's to focus on a point just beyond Harry's shoulder as he lost himself in his thoughts. "Do you remember that time you asked about those notches on my bedpost? And I told you the story of the people I had been forced to kill in order to prove my 'loyalty' to Voldemort? Right after I told you that, you spotted the deepest one, the biggest one, and asked about it, and I told you it was the first person I killed.a woman about 24. I told you to story of how I killed her." Draco's eyes shot up and grabbed Harry's suddenly, pinning him where he was. "I lied, Harry. I lied about how I killed her, and who I killed. She was younger than 24. She was about 14, and she wasn't someone who had harmed Voldemort in any way, she was just a muggle girl he kidnapped off the street. And I had to kill her with my own wand, Harry. And it wasn't a simple Avada Kedavra like I said it was. I had to rip her stomach out and cast the Crucatius curse on her, and do all sorts of other things I'd really rather not talk too much about before I finally let her die."
Harry blanched white, not because of the description, but because of the anger and sadness and self-loathing in Draco's voice.
"I killed her with my own two hands while she was begging me to stop. And you know what, Harry? It's starting to drive me insane. Every other night I dream about things like this that I did, and even when I don't sleep, the images rattle around in my brain, slowly eating away at me like the Chinese Water Torture or some other horrible thing. It's driving me ever so slowly insane."
"How long?"
"Since Voldemort fell, but it's been getting steadily worse. I'm at my wits end. I remember you told me once that you could remember ever face of ever person who you couldn't save. You said you saw each face the day Voldemort died, and then you told me that I could always come to you if I ever needed help dealing with things. Well, I'm here. I need help Harry, or they'll be checking me in to St. Mungo's before the month is out."
Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, his brain noted that it was the 28th of January, so he'd better help Draco quickly.
"So you hopped on a plane, a boat, a train, whatever to get out here so that I could help you?" Harry asked, slightly awed. It was one thing to have perfect strangers who only saw an idolized version of him believe in his ability to triumph over evil. It was something else entirely to have Draco Malfoy, the man who had seen him succeed and fail many times over, put his own trust and sanity in his hands.
"Three planes, two busses, three if you count this evening's, a half-dozen taxis, and a train from Portland."
"I see." Harry began.
"I'm not asking for a miracle, Harry. I know well that you don't deal in that trade. I just need someone to listen to me, someone who has been through all of the same shit, and lived to tell the tale.I need someone who knows what I have seen and done to tell me it's not my fault and that I did some good in life, even if I did so much evil as well."
Harry looked at Draco, and something began to form in the back of his mind.
"I'm not sure if I can help you, Draco," Harry said, and Draco looked completely lost, despairing of ever finding himself again. "I'm not really as sane as everyone thinks I am. Shadows of the dead still haunt me, I have just gotten really good at hiding it from other people, and myself. I think that's why I finally had to leave England. I had to hide my pain from everyone and maintain my image as the untouchable, or else I felt like I would disappoint everyone who had fought and died, and everyone who had to live on." There was a pause. "I think too many people were concentrating on all the people who had to have physical healing that they forgot that some of us needed it mentally."
Draco nodded sadly.
"Emotional wounds hurt more but bleed less," Draco offered, quoting from some book he had read a long time ago.
"Yeah," Harry affirmed. "And they're almost never acknowledged." They sat in silence for a long while, each being assaulted by his own shadows from the past. Finally, Harry spoke up again. "Draco, I don't know what I can offer you. You need healing, but I do too."
Draco smiled sadly.
"Maybe we should try healing together."
Harry thought about that for a moment, playing around with the coin in his hand.
"Maybe you're right," Harry finally decided. "Maybe we need to help each other out on this. After all, we've survived this long together, it would be a shame if we both went insane now."
"Damned right," Draco said, nodding. Harry smiled too, pushing a particularly nasty thought that had been floating around his mind, out. However, instead of just being shoved into a closet in the back of his head like normal, it actually was pushed from his skull to float in the form of a little black shadow in the room. Almost immediately, it was attacked by a white thing that popped out of the coin, which dragged both black and white shadows back into it. Harry and Draco both started and looked at the coin, whose markings had changed. Words were slowly beginning to form on the face of it.
"'One is pain.Two are strength.' Weird," Harry said after reading the inscription.
"Yeah. What do you suppose it is? A pensive of some kind?"
"Noooo," Harry said with sarcastic humor. "I'd say it's a radar, stupid."
Ok, I think that's as far as I can make it go. I'm sorry that the story isn't very good, but it's about as good as it's gonna get right now. I hope you enjoy. Just a simple oneshot to make me feel a little better during finals week. I'll have JxR up as soon as I can find some spare creativity or something. Enjoy!
~Vividian
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the strange thing that serves as a plot. *coughyeahrightcough*
Enjoy.
It's Called a Radar, Stupid
Harry Potter, AKA Mr. I'm-a-god-to-the-wizarding-world-because-I'm-the-boy- who-fucking-lived-now-get-over-it-for-crying-out-loud, was sitting on muggle bus 44, being bored as he rode from work to the stop that would take him as close to his apartment as the metro transit system would take him. The smelly thing was filled with college students studying at the local university, screaming children and their irritated mothers, and old creepy guys who kept giving him long looks.
~I hate this stupid city,~ Harry thought as he looked out the window that was being assaulted by the rain from the billionth storm that had hit the city of Seattle that week.
~I hate this stupid state.scratch that. I hate the whole fucking country. I want to go back to England.~ Harry mentally whined to himself, yet he knew all along that it wasn't possible until the population decided to calm down and knock it off with the fan letters they had been sending him ever since his most recent defeat of Voldemort.
Harry sighed as the bus stopped again to let on more passengers, and let off only a few.
~As if this bus isn't crowded enough as it is. I hate rush-hour bus traffic. You'd think the damned country would have a working transit system by now.~
He huffed and held his briefcase close, not wanting some petty thief to make off with it, since it held "important" documents his boss wanted him to deliver to the tax office near his apartment on his way home.
~At least no one I know will ever find me here. Face it, one of the last places the wizarding world will ever look for The-Boy-Who-Is-Now-The-Man- Who-Lived is Seattle, Washington, USA, which is why I chose the damned place in the first place. I can't handle the attention any more. All I ever wanted was a nice normal life, maybe a nice home in a suburb or in the country with a garden and some lovely flowers.and a dog and a couple of children would be nice.and a handsome husband who comes home every day shouting 'Harry, babe! I'm HOOOOOME' like that stupid dude on 'I Love Lucy.' Bah. Who am I kidding, other than myself? I'll probably either be stuck living in this stupid city, working for that stupid department store, for the rest of my life, or, should my luck not hold out, I'll be back in England, swarmed by press and admirers until I either die of old age or commit suicide to rid myself of the nuisances.~
Harry sighed. The rain was not helping his mood, nor was the frigid wind that smacked him in the face like a two-ton sack of bricks whenever the bus doors opened. If there were two things Harry hated more than Voldemort, it was the rain and the cold, although they only took second to fangirl swarms and the press watching his every move. Leaning his head against the cold glass, Harry winced and watched the traffic light in front of the stopped bus change from green to yellow to red. Due to the traffic, they had been stuck in the same position for an entire light cycle. With another sigh, Harry smacked his head against the window lightly, over and over again. The bus finally moved, only to stop again on the other side of the intersection to pick up more people. Harry leaned his head back against the seat in despair. It was going to be midnight before he got home! Closing his eyes, he waited as the next wave of passengers got on.
Harry felt rather than heard someone stop next to his seat, but didn't bother to open his eyes.
"Mind if I sit here?" a somewhat familiar voice asked. Harry had trouble placing it, but lacked the resolve to open his eyes, let alone care. For a response, Harry shrugged and felt the man, for the voice was too low to be a woman's, sit down in the vacant seat next to him. There was a long period of silence as Harry continued to sink further into his depression, and the bus began to move again. Finally, just as Harry was beginning to feel carsick.or rather, bussick.from the motion of the bus with his closed eyes, the man next to him spoke again.
"Could I trouble you for your signature, Mr. Potter?" the voice asked in an incredibly familiar sarcastic drawl that Harry couldn't place. His eyes immediately snapped open, though, as his head popped up, and were caught up by a pair of silvery-gray orbs that were all too familiar.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Tsk! Such manners, Mr. Potter! Unless I am mistaken, we were on better terms than that when we last parted ways."
"You know what I mean. What do you want with me?"
"Harry," Draco said, looked saddened. "It's been almost an entire year since we've seen each other and that's all you can say to me?"
"Answer my fucking question, Malfoy, before I break your face."
"You were a lot nicer the last time we met."
Their. "discussion" was beginning to attract the attention of the rest of the bus, so Harry lowered his voice.
"What do you want, Malfoy? Why the hell are you here? And how the fucking hell did you find me?"
"This," Draco said, holding up a small object that had a blinking green dot in the middle of it.
"What the fuck is that?"
"It's called a radar, stupid. How else do you think I would track down the world's most famously illusive superhero?"
"Is that all you're here for? Or do you actually have a purpose for disturbing my peace?"
"Sheesh. Your temper sure hasn't improved since we parted ways. What would mummy say if she could hear you now?"
"She'd probably agree with me. Get the hell away from me."
"Tsk. Fine. If you're going to act like that, I won't give you this," Draco said, waving a small package under Harry's nose. It was sealed with the seal of Dumbledore himself.
"You act like you think I want anything to do with you or Dumbledore or Fudge or any of the rest of those idiots," Harry said, shoving Draco's occupied hand away from him. "There's a reason I left, Draco, and it wasn't so that you could come after me with your radar thingie." He snorted. "Now, if you don't mind, let me up. This is my stop," Harry said, standing as the bus pulled to a stop before a house that had apparently been turned into an Asian restaurant of some kind.
"Is it really? Quel coincidence! It's mine too!" Draco said, with a feigned joy that was getting on Harry's nerves.
"Oh goodies," Harry replied as the two of them got off the bus. Harry stalked off towards his apartment, praying to any god that would listen that Draco wouldn't follow him, but apparently they were all currently occupied. Draco merely smiled and followed Harry right up to the door of Harry's apartment. Harry had just gotten out his keys when he was finally fed up of playing the game. He slammed the door open and glared at Draco.
"Are you going to go away or do you have to come in?" he asked, sulking.
"I need to talk to you," Draco replied, this time far more serious than Harry had seen him all day. "It's really important."
"Oh goodies," Harry said, walking rudely in, and leaving Draco to follow or not as he would. "Where have I heard that before? Let's see.maybe.EVERY GODDAMNED TIME SOMETHING COMES UP THAT EVERYONE ELSE IS TOO LAZY TO DEAL WITH SO THEY ASSUME THE CHORE IS MINE TO PICK UP AND TAKE ON?!" Harry shouted at Draco, who had managed to get the door closed just in time to stop Harry's outburst from reaching the street. Harry was livid. Draco was calm.
"You overreact," Draco stated simply. Harry looked about to explode.
"I overreact? I OVERREACT?? YOU WANT TO SEE OVERREACTING? I'LL SHOW YOU OVERREACTING!!" Harry screamed. He was starting to lose control over his magic, and the vase that had been standing on the table near the door was flying around his head. "I THINK I HAVE A GODDAMNED RIGHT TO WANT PRIVACY THAT WON'T BE DISTURBED BY A BUNCH OF PRICKS WHO THINK THAT I CAN SOLVE ALL THEIR PROBLEMS FOR THEM!" The vase smashed into the wall a centimetre from Draco's head. Draco didn't even blink.
"Yes, you're overreacting," Draco repeated. "And you're assuming things you have no right to believe are true," he continued, his voice calm enough to bring Harry down a few notches. "For example, do you really think that I would allow myself to be dragged away from the business empire I'm supposed to be running to come find you to beg you to come back to the wizarding world and solve some other bastard's problems? First of all, Draco Malfoy is no messenger, as you should damned well know, and second, I do not beg. Especially not on someone else's behalf. I thought you knew me better than that, Potter. We certainly spent enough time together during the war for us to get to know each other really well."
Draco's voice betrayed no emotion, and Harry blushed slightly as he realized the truth of his words. Especially the last ones. He did know Draco better than that. They had spent some real. 'quality' time together in the days before Harry's final mission. Draco had been a spy back then, and Harry, the intended savior of the world, and, needless to say, in the face of Voldemort, they could easily put aside old differences to try and win. In fact, they even discovered they had fewer differences than they thought. The discovery had led to a series of nights spent in the company of each other, but in the end, they both decided that the relationship wouldn't last, so they had gone their separate ways. Until now, that was. Harry sighed, significantly calmed now, and capable of rational thought once more.
"Alright," Harry began, "So if you aren't here to beg me to save the world, what are you here for?"
"Ah, now I never said that, did I?" Draco asked, smirk in place. Harry felt himself growing angry again. So this was another plea to return to the wizarding world and be the savior! Harry's eyes narrowed and he glared at Draco.
"I am not coming back."
Draco's smirk widened.
"Aren't you going to ask me inside? Or if I would like a drink? I've been traveling all day today and most of yesterday to get here and find you, and that can really take it out of even a soulless being like myself."
Harry's eyes narrowed in anger again, but he realized that in the mood Draco was currently in, he wasn't going to get a word out of him unless he did what he wanted.
"Would you like to take a seat in the living room while I put on a pot of tea?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.
"Sounds wonderful," Draco said, smiling, and flounced into the living room. "Earl Grey with two sugars if it's not too much trouble," he said in a sickeningly sweet tone.
"Certainly," Harry managed, teeth still locked. He proceeded to make the tea. When it was made, he brought in the two cups and set one of them on the table before Draco. The other, he held as he sat across from Draco, sipping at it slowly, and trying to reign in his temper. With a grace Harry had always envied, Draco picked up his cup and took a careful sip. He nodded approvingly and set the cup back on the saucer, which he placed on the armrest of his chair. After a few more moments of silence, Draco once more picked the package he had waved before Harry on the bus, and threw it at Harry, whose only saving grace was the reflexes he had gained from quidditch, which saved both the package and the cup of tea Harry was holding.
"That's a gift from Dumbledore," Draco said. "No message or card. He just said that you would know what to do with it."
"I thought you were no man's messenger," Harry shot at Draco.
"This is a special occasion. I was coming this way anyways. And I don't consider myself a messenger, in this case, just the bearer of good tidings."
"Big difference," Harry said sarcastically as he unwrapped the package. Inside was a small silver coin and a pair of fuzzy red socks. Harry blinked, then classified the present as a typical Dumbledore one, and inspected the coin, which had weird markings on it. Draco simply raised one eyebrow, and said nothing. "Yeah, well so much for having a clue as to what to do with the damned things." Harry shook his head. "I think Dumbledore does these things on purpose."
"Probably. He is rather eccentric." Draco replied with a shrug. Harry sighed.
"So why are you here?" Harry asked. "You already said this wasn't the real reason why, so what is?"
"Do you really think you are ready to know?" Draco asked, taking another sip of his tea. Harry nodded. "Alright then, I'll tell you. I want you to save the world."
"I'm out of that line of work," Harry said, shaking his head. "Find yourself a new Batman or Scarman or whatever."
"You take me too generally," Draco insisted. "I didn't mean the whole world for all the people in it. My demand is much smaller and far more realistic."
"Oh, so which world would you like me to save then? Mars? Neptune? Kripton?"
"You wound me."
"I care."
"Since when did you turn into a Slytherin?"
"Since Voldemort hexed me the first time, actually. The Sorting Hat always wanted to put me into Slytherin. Said I'd do well."
"With a tongue like that, you would have."
There was a pause while Draco sipped at his tea.
"Would you like me to continue now, Harry, so you can hear the whole story and then decide without the need to jump to conclusions."
"Certainly. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get back to being a department store salesman in my boring little apartment, all alone without a care in the world."
Draco raised an eyebrow as he looked at Harry.
"You could dry that out and use it for fertilizer," Draco said simply, then continued. "Anyways, before I was interrupted, I was about to tell you what world I was asking you to save. I admit, it's not a big one, or one that's particularly important in the grand scheme of things, but I'm fond of it."
"Uranus?"
"Your wit astounds me. No, actually I was wondering if you would help save my sanity, or at least what small portion of it I have left."
"Your sanity?" Harry asked, confused.
"Yes," Draco replied lightly, then his voice darkened, and his face became serious. "Harry, it's starting to drive me insane, all the crap we dealt with. You know what I mean, even if you've locked your memories away in a little jar. Recently, I've been having nightmares, not the little kiddie ones, where the boogie man is after you, but I've been reliving parts of my life, parts I'd rather forget." Draco's eyes wandered from Harry's to focus on a point just beyond Harry's shoulder as he lost himself in his thoughts. "Do you remember that time you asked about those notches on my bedpost? And I told you the story of the people I had been forced to kill in order to prove my 'loyalty' to Voldemort? Right after I told you that, you spotted the deepest one, the biggest one, and asked about it, and I told you it was the first person I killed.a woman about 24. I told you to story of how I killed her." Draco's eyes shot up and grabbed Harry's suddenly, pinning him where he was. "I lied, Harry. I lied about how I killed her, and who I killed. She was younger than 24. She was about 14, and she wasn't someone who had harmed Voldemort in any way, she was just a muggle girl he kidnapped off the street. And I had to kill her with my own wand, Harry. And it wasn't a simple Avada Kedavra like I said it was. I had to rip her stomach out and cast the Crucatius curse on her, and do all sorts of other things I'd really rather not talk too much about before I finally let her die."
Harry blanched white, not because of the description, but because of the anger and sadness and self-loathing in Draco's voice.
"I killed her with my own two hands while she was begging me to stop. And you know what, Harry? It's starting to drive me insane. Every other night I dream about things like this that I did, and even when I don't sleep, the images rattle around in my brain, slowly eating away at me like the Chinese Water Torture or some other horrible thing. It's driving me ever so slowly insane."
"How long?"
"Since Voldemort fell, but it's been getting steadily worse. I'm at my wits end. I remember you told me once that you could remember ever face of ever person who you couldn't save. You said you saw each face the day Voldemort died, and then you told me that I could always come to you if I ever needed help dealing with things. Well, I'm here. I need help Harry, or they'll be checking me in to St. Mungo's before the month is out."
Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, his brain noted that it was the 28th of January, so he'd better help Draco quickly.
"So you hopped on a plane, a boat, a train, whatever to get out here so that I could help you?" Harry asked, slightly awed. It was one thing to have perfect strangers who only saw an idolized version of him believe in his ability to triumph over evil. It was something else entirely to have Draco Malfoy, the man who had seen him succeed and fail many times over, put his own trust and sanity in his hands.
"Three planes, two busses, three if you count this evening's, a half-dozen taxis, and a train from Portland."
"I see." Harry began.
"I'm not asking for a miracle, Harry. I know well that you don't deal in that trade. I just need someone to listen to me, someone who has been through all of the same shit, and lived to tell the tale.I need someone who knows what I have seen and done to tell me it's not my fault and that I did some good in life, even if I did so much evil as well."
Harry looked at Draco, and something began to form in the back of his mind.
"I'm not sure if I can help you, Draco," Harry said, and Draco looked completely lost, despairing of ever finding himself again. "I'm not really as sane as everyone thinks I am. Shadows of the dead still haunt me, I have just gotten really good at hiding it from other people, and myself. I think that's why I finally had to leave England. I had to hide my pain from everyone and maintain my image as the untouchable, or else I felt like I would disappoint everyone who had fought and died, and everyone who had to live on." There was a pause. "I think too many people were concentrating on all the people who had to have physical healing that they forgot that some of us needed it mentally."
Draco nodded sadly.
"Emotional wounds hurt more but bleed less," Draco offered, quoting from some book he had read a long time ago.
"Yeah," Harry affirmed. "And they're almost never acknowledged." They sat in silence for a long while, each being assaulted by his own shadows from the past. Finally, Harry spoke up again. "Draco, I don't know what I can offer you. You need healing, but I do too."
Draco smiled sadly.
"Maybe we should try healing together."
Harry thought about that for a moment, playing around with the coin in his hand.
"Maybe you're right," Harry finally decided. "Maybe we need to help each other out on this. After all, we've survived this long together, it would be a shame if we both went insane now."
"Damned right," Draco said, nodding. Harry smiled too, pushing a particularly nasty thought that had been floating around his mind, out. However, instead of just being shoved into a closet in the back of his head like normal, it actually was pushed from his skull to float in the form of a little black shadow in the room. Almost immediately, it was attacked by a white thing that popped out of the coin, which dragged both black and white shadows back into it. Harry and Draco both started and looked at the coin, whose markings had changed. Words were slowly beginning to form on the face of it.
"'One is pain.Two are strength.' Weird," Harry said after reading the inscription.
"Yeah. What do you suppose it is? A pensive of some kind?"
"Noooo," Harry said with sarcastic humor. "I'd say it's a radar, stupid."
Ok, I think that's as far as I can make it go. I'm sorry that the story isn't very good, but it's about as good as it's gonna get right now. I hope you enjoy. Just a simple oneshot to make me feel a little better during finals week. I'll have JxR up as soon as I can find some spare creativity or something. Enjoy!
~Vividian