Christmas Wishes

By Dracos Lover1

DISCLAIMER:

I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything. She is my Goddess and hero.

My Dearest Mother,

It was a fairly standard summer holiday at the Manor. I was home for Christmas from my work at the Ministry, trying not to think about Harry while every bone in my body ached for him.

I wanted him so badly that my very being called out for him. Naturally, i was content to wallow in my solitary depression.

The last thing I expected was for Harry to arrive on the front porch, under my very nose.

It was lucky for him that I happened to be laying out in the sun that morning, because his arrival might have gone unnoticed.

He just...appeared in front of my door. He was naked, not an unfamiliar sight, but still appreciated. Starting to take in his body, I noticed bruises all across his chest and back. His haunted eyes gazed over the surroundings, gaining comprehension as his eyes met mine. His eyes clouded with tears, and he threw himself on me, sobbing into my cloak, clutching me closer. He was trembling, and his skin was on fire with a fever.

My eyes filled with tears as well. "What have they done to you?" I whispered, stroking his hair as he wept. He trembled, saying not a word, keeping me close as he had never done before.

I managed to gently pry him off me. "Harry...We'll need to get you some robes, or something to cover you.' I threw my robes over him, leading him into my house and up to my room.

He was so tense that I could barely get him up the stairs. I tucked him into my bed, kissing him on the cheek. I waited until I thought he was asleep, playing with his hair until his tense breathing relaxed. Then, as I turned to leave, he took my hand and looked at me, imploring me to stay without words.

I couldn't imagine the horrors they had done to him. Harry had always been talkative, and now he couldn't bring himself to say a single word. I settled back in the chair, but Harry still looked at me.

It was nearly lunchtime, but that didn't matter. i took off my sweater and slid into bed next to Harry. He smiled, for the first time since his arrival, and I took him into my arms, trying to soothe his trembling as he drifted to sleep.

I fortunately awoke before Harry did, in his condition, who knows what could have happened. He was curled around me tightly, still trembling.

I couldn't bring myself to detach from him, he seemed so fragile and forlorn. Then, as if sensing my awakening, Harry stirred and opened his clouded green orbs.

Figuring he was hungry, I reached for the bell pull. As I tugged it, Harry covered his head, whimpering indiscriminately.

I let go of the bell pull, stroking his hair and whispering soothing words. What HAD they done to him? I thought.

Then a most curious idea made itself known. The Inner Voice of Reason indicated suspicion. 'Only Malfoys have a bell pull,' it seemed to taunt.

As Harry pulled away, curling into a fetal position, I slid out of the bed. My purpose was clear: I was going to find Father.

When I finally got to him, he was sitting in his office.

He was smirking as usual. "What is it, Draco?"

I took a deep breath. "Father--Harry Potter is here."

My father looked bemused. "If you wanted a 'playmate', you could've told me."

I fought to control myself. "That's not what I mean, and you know it, Father."

Father, once again, feigned innocence. "What do I know, Draco?"

I looked his father straight in the eye, probably the first time in months. "You had him brutalized. You may have even done it yourself."

Father chuckled dangerously. "You have feelings for him! You know as well as I that he is a threat to the Dark Lord's ascension."

I slammed my fist on the table. "You could have just killed him instead of destroying him inside! It'll take months to help him recover, maybe years, or maybe never at all! And this is ALL because of YOU!!"

He frowned. "The last thing I need is more blood on my hands, Draco."

I fought back tears over my secret love. "You're right. Now you've got blood and a little bit of one boy's innocence, from a boy who needed it most."

Six months passed, and it was nearly Christmas. Harry was fully recovered by then. He had gotten past the speech problems, and was able to show affection again.

He had also decided to leave the Manor, despite my best efforts to keep him here. I did, of course, realize it would be best if he left, but I resisted it the same.

We were at the front door, giving our goodbyes.

Harry had just planted a kiss on my earlobe, and whispered, "I have something to tell you."

He pulled back as I heard a sickening 'squelch'. A look of surprise crossed his face, and it would shortly be Harry Potter's last movement.

As he fell forward into my arms, I saw a dagger sticking through from his back, blood spurting down his perfect body.

I cried out in surprise and shock, and noticed that a gloved hand was still holding the dagger. The black glove slid up into a black cloak, and the cloak was currently occupied by my father. His usual maddening smirk was on his face. "Many thanks, Draco."

I was at a loss for words, as the dead weight that had just been Harry fell forward onto me.

My father pulled the knife from his back, wiping the blood on Harry's cloak. "I really should listen to you more often. Your ideas really are exquisite."

In an instant, I realized what he meant. "When I said..."

My father clicked his tongue. "You mustn't argue when someone gives you a compliment."

Tears were streaming down my face as I laid Harry gently on the ground, surprise still across his face. "You... you MONSTER!!"

And, by some twist of fate, a group of carolers began to sing.

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Let your heart be light

From now on our troubles will be out of sight"

That was it. My emotional rope, hanging barely on for those six months while I nurtured the man I loved back to health, snapped completely.

So here I find myself, writing this on my bed, hoping you will read this. By the time you find and read it, there will be nothing to do but continue in my stead. If you are in any position to, I implore you to fight my father with everything you can. For he has not just destroyed his only son, but he has destroyed his only son's true love.

Make him suffer for me, Mother. Teach him what he has taught so many, myself included--teach him how to fear so profoundly that he is afraid for his very life.

When you find my body, please don't bury me in the Malfoy tombs. I wish to be buried in the Potter plot, alongside Harry in death as I was unable to be in life.

It is done.

Ever and always your son,

Draco