Disclaimer: I do not own, wish I did, but I don't. Anything recognizable including all characters, places, and images are under trademark through JKR and the companies that publish the books and make the movies. I only own my plot line.
Author: ShaeLynn Teelle
Warning: Slash/yaoi/guys with guys. Mixed p.o.v.
Inspiration: I'm always here to catch him when he falls. The man with the broken smile. And he will be loved. (I do not own the song and forget whom it's by.)
If someone wants to archive, please ask first. You won't be turned down, but I would like to know where it's going. Thank you.
Polite constructive criticism is welcome; FLAMES WILL BE FED TO THE DRAGON IN MY BED.
1st Person p.o.v. past tense
It took years of glaring before I finally saw him. Not until mid-way through our last year at Hogwarts. It was a Hogsmead weekend. I know because I was the only one of my house that hadn't gone, beyond those that were too young. I watched as he nearly stumbled about under the Quidditch stands and all I felt at first was anger and hatred. This was my spot. It was where I went to get some quiet, some peace, away from the others in my house. I thought that perhaps he was lost and was about to shout at him, tell him to get back to his own side of the pitch.
Then, he turned to me and my mouth closed without a sound as I saw his eyes. The normally sharp, expressive eyes, that were so quick to ignite under the anger I strived to start within him, were dull, life-less, like they had given up on so much. Including happiness. When he saw me, when our eyes met, I had expected anger, at least at having seen him like that. I would have been raging at him if our positions were reversed, but there are more than just a few reasons why we were placed in such opposite houses, though we each had qualities of the other.
He wasn't raging. He didn't even seem annoyed. He watched me for a moment, staring into my shocked eyes before slowly turning away as though his school rival hadn't even been there. He left the maze of pillars and crossbeams that created the underside of the stands, stumbling slightly still, but with more grace and somehow calmer than he had been. I could only watch him go. I don't know if he expected me to say anything later, to use what had happened against him, but I didn't.
There was just something there, something in his eyes and the indifferent way he had turned and left, but something about the encounter would not even let me think of using it against him. In fact, neither of us ever mentioned that first encounter, nor the subsequent ones. I'd be standing or sitting, leaning against my usual post, and he would come stumbling into the area, sometimes breathing hard as though he had run straight from the school. He would stare at me for a moment or two before joining me in my silence.
It was oddly comfortable sitting there together without speaking and the more it happened the more I began to notice little things. If he arrived out-of-breath his hands would twitch where they rested, sometimes wringing together, sometimes shaking noticeably until I couldn't stand it any longer one day and clasped one hand in mine to stop the motion. He looked at me in surprise before covering my hand with his other one as well. It became the norm and I felt strangely grateful that I had given him something to hold on to when he needed it most.
Then, one Hogsmead weekend he didn't come. I waited until the other students began returning, thinking that perhaps he had finally returned to the rest of his little group, but he wasn't there. I asked them and they shrugged, casually assuming he had been where he always went on such weekends.
I wouldn't admit to anyone that I was worried, even to myself. Not even when I found him passed out in an empty room at the top of an unused tower, his eyes red and puffy, but there were no marks of tears on his face. I didn't spell him awake and if there had been any of my house to see, they would have thought I was someone else. Even I was shocked by my actions though I didn't question them. I woke him like a friend, something I was not familiar with. And when he woke and looked about in confusion, I reassured him that he was okay and told him where we were.
We sat in silence for a long time, both missing dinner and getting close to curfew. He had clung to my hand the entire time that he sat near me, close enough to feel the body heat from each other. He stood to leave, but before he left the room he told me that he always came there when he couldn't go to the pitch, when there were too many people around to sneak away.
I don't know why he told me, not until I began going there myself, just needing to be away from my housemates and the pressures in my life. We began meeting there two or three times a week. There were no notes to each other, no contact outside the room that wasn't in rivalry. Outside of the time we spent alone together I was the same sneering bastard the school had seen for nearly seven years and he returned to his sharp eyed, easily riled self.
There were no words ever spoken of our meetings, just a catch of the eyes at dinner or in the hallway between classes and I would know that he would be there. I never realized it at first, but I began to do the same. I would be the one to meet his eyes, silently telling him that I needed time away from my life and the school and he would come.
By the last month of school our meetings had increased to every other day. We no longer even needed the minute silent interactions to tell the other. Just watching each other in our classes told us what was happening with the other. Not a single person in either of our groups saw the signs that we knew so well. The tremble in his hands as he clenched them together in his lap or held his quill to take notes. The clenching of my hands on the tabletop or against the quills I had regularly begun to snap.
Then, there was an attack within his tower. The teachers kept it quiet, quieter than anything had ever been kept before in Hogwarts. He wasn't in classes and no one would say a word about where he was, not even when I 'asked' his friends. It took a day and a half to discover where he was and it happened quite by accident. I was hit with a bludger just as I caught the snitch in the match against Hufflepuff. I entered the infirmary, my left arm throbbing horribly.
There I saw hair that I could never mistake. His face was turned away with the sheet pulled up to his chin, but I knew who it was without asking Madam Pomfrey. I wasn't allowed to get near him, the medi-witch made sure of that. I was extremely angry, but looking back I can't blame her. It wasn't a known thing that we weren't the enemies we pretended to be. My arm was healed and I was sent back to my room before curfew.
The advantage of being Head Boy was my own room. I didn't remain there any longer than I had to. I slipped out shortly after the other prefects had finished their rounds and made my way back to the infirmary. I didn't even know if he was conscious or not. All I really knew was that it had been three days, far too long, since we were able to be in the others' company without our masks of animosity. I didn't know about him, but I had permanent indents in my palms from how hard and how often I had been clenching my hands since we had last met in the tower.
There was no one else in the infirmary when I entered. At first I didn't even see him with all the lights off and the moon half-covered in clouds. Then, he sat up and faced me. I saw a bruise on one side of his face and then I saw his hands clenched and shaking in the covers keeping him warm. Neither of us said a word. I closed the infirmary doors and went to his side.
Before I could even sit down and reach for his hands as I always had before, he reached up and enclosed mine between his. Neither the shaking nor the clenching stopped as he squeezed my hand like it was his only lifeline to what was happening. I couldn't bear to see him like that and, for the first time in my life, I reached out and pulled another person against me with my free arm in comfort. He went still for a moment before releasing my hand with one of his and gripping the back of my robes, burying his face against me as his shoulders shook. I took some time before I began to feel the wetness soaking through my robes and when I realized it was his tears finally shed, I held him against me that much tighter.
Eventually, I found myself lying beside him on the narrow bed. He was half draped over me with his face still buried in my chest, though the tears had finally ceased. I knew it had to be past midnight and I made to leave, but his arms tightened around me.
Then, I heard a mumbled 'Please' against my chest. The first word spoken by either of us when we were alone since that first night I found him in the tower and I knew it was a request for me to stay. I tried to think of what could happen if I did and I warned him that someone would see.
'I don't care,' he said and met my eyes.
Looking down into those eyes that had begun to haunt my dreams I saw a shadow, deeper than any I had before seen in his eyes, and couldn't say no. I couldn't speak at all, just nodded and pulled my cloak tighter about me while pulling the blankets higher on him. We fell asleep like that, his head using my chest as a pillow. Two of our hands holding onto one another while his other arm held my arm and mine was over his back.
In the morning I was rather expecting to be awoken by Madam Pomfrey's outraged cry or perhaps that of one of our Head of Houses', but I didn't hear any of that. Instead I woke on my own, still holding him as I had when we'd fallen asleep. I didn't pay much attention to anything around me. Checking to ensure he was still sleeping well seemed to be my main priority. After that I lightly squeezed his hand for reassurance and closed my eyes again, content to return to the comfortable anonymousness of sleep.
Unfortunately the others invading the infirmary were not so content, as I heard a rather pointed cough from the side of the bed. I opened my eyes again to see the Headmaster standing at the side of the bed with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape behind him. At the other side of the infirmary Madam Pomfrey was busy with something, but she kept throwing glances at us, glances that I couldn't read. Professor McGonagall was pale with her lips pressed tightly together, just watching us. Professor Snape was glaring, but I knew beneath his cold exterior he was just as shocked and surprised as the other Professor.
Before any of them could say anything, I nudged my companion's shoulder to wake him. He opened his eyes and looked at the Professors standing beside the bed. I had been waiting for him to pull away or say something, but he didn't. He turned his face away, burrowing closer, so that I could feel the heat from his breath as it slowed and evened. Not wanting to lose our quiet time together that we had finally gotten to have, I followed his example, turning my face away from the Professors and returning to sleep, the scent of his hair invading my senses.
It wasn't until the end of that week that I found out why none of the Professors had woken us. From the beginning of seventh year he had begun to react violently to being woken, especially from nightmares or other dreams. The Professors thought he had reacted calmly with me because, for once, he hadn't been dreaming. At least that's what they thought and the next day insisted I returned to my classes. I still find it hard to believe I slept through an entire day, though I've done it twice since.
No matter what Madam Pomfrey said, I continued returning to spend the nights in the infirmary, he and I both resuming our silences together. It's not as though I could visit between classes anyway. The rest of his little troop, the ones that didn't know where he was on weekends or at night, were always crowding his bedside during the daylight hours, even when he was asleep.
Then, one night I came to the infirmary earlier than usual to find him in the midst of a nightmare with the same three Professors present as before, but simply watching him. I felt disgust at seeing their inaction and when he cried out I had enough. I rudely brushed between the three and took hold of one of his hands, my other resting lightly on his shoulder.
He didn't open his eyes, but I knew the nightmare was over as he stopped moving harshly against the bed, his breathing slowly quieting. When he opened his eyes he slid over on the bed, making room for me that I filled without complaint as I had every night. His hands held tight to the one I had gripped his with and the trembling slowly subsided as he leaned against me, relaxing. No one spoke until I glared at the Professors for having left him sit. Then Dumbledore explained about what usually happened when my companion was woken out of a nightmare or dream. I nodded and ignored the Professors, letting them believe what they wanted to about the two of us.
When they finally left I posed a question to him I had been wanting to for a few weeks. We never spoke much so I didn't know what his plans were for after our seventh year was finished. Apparently he wasn't too sure either. He was going to find a quiet place to stay, probably near the school, and Dumbledore had arranged for an apprenticeship to prepare him for the 'Inevitable'. I didn't ask.
At the time I had a fairly good idea of what and whom the 'Inevitable' involved. I told him of my plans. My Head of House had acquired me an apprenticeship with a colleague and I would apparate six days a week to his private home for tutoring as everything was done in the man's own surroundings. Then, I told him of the small flat I already had waiting for me in a quiet Muggle town in the southern portion of England.
I had no idea how he would react to my next statement, but I invited him, timidly, to share the flat with me in Canterbury. He was silent and I was sure that at any moment he would burst out into laughter at my offer. The only thing he asked was if Canterbury had a wizarding area like Diagon Alley in London. It didn't. I told him there were only a few shops nestled in small areas that dealt with wizards as well as Muggles and many were run by Muggles with a wizarding partner.
It only took a few more moments for our plans to be made. He would go to his best friend's home for a few days as he had already promised. Then, he would apparate to a safe location in Canterbury where I would be waiting and we would go to the flat so he could settle in. The plans went well. He told his group that they could visit when they wanted if they gave him a day's notice by owl. There was no floo in the flat, which I ensured and a basic set of apparition wards were erected around the area with the help of my friends.
I had two friends, unknown to the rest of the school, that were allowed to come visit me at any time. One was a half-blood, though she had known to hide it before reaching the school as she was placed in the Snake's Den, and the other, her fiancée, had no family left because of the Dark Lord. It was also the reason why he hated the Dark Lord and would never join or help that mad-man. They knew about him.
I never told them, but she followed me one day, wondering where I always disappeared to when I came back so calm. She saw him and I in our tower and asked me about it the next time we were alone. I made sure that he knew about them several days before seventh year ended, only a day or two after he was released from the infirmary. The year ended quickly, he and I spending the last night in the tower, soaking up the other's comforting presence. Neither of us knew what would happen in the four days we wouldn't see each other.