Chapter Twenty-Four

Voices in My Head

ONE

Harry growled in frustration, throwing the quill onto the table. "I can't do this!" he cried, putting his face in his hands. He'd been trying for the last hour to write his name on a parchment, unable to still the terrible trembling in his hands.

"Perhaps a break is in order," Severus said gently, taking the quill and parchment out of Harry's line of sight. "Surely you didn't expect to conquer this in one day?"

"I shouldn't have to conquer it at all," Harry muttered, rubbing his temples. "I hate that snake-faced bastard!" He felt a gentle had on his shoulder and turned to look at his lover.

"We all hate him, Harry," Severus informed him. "You are stronger than this, and you know it. Have something to eat, read a bit if it relaxes you, and pick this up later." He kissed Harry's cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along Harry's jaw.

Harry cast one last frustrated look at the parchment before giving in. "Okay," he said, following Severus to the dining room for a private dinner. Harry wasn't going into the general population of the school until he could control the trembling in his body at least a little bit. He hated that his nerves had suffered so much damage, but knew there was nothing he could do about it but try to work around it. "How am I supposed to catch up on my homework if I can't write anything?" he asked, pushing the food on his plate around dejectedly.

"Eat, Harry," Severus said sternly. "We'll get you a dictator quill until you can write again."

That thought lifted Harry's spirits slightly, so he began to eat his food. Near the end of the almost silent meal, a terrible thought struck Harry. "Sev'rus?" he said hesitantly.

"Yes, Harry?" Severus asked, looking at Harry patiently.

"How will I do magic?" Harry asked. "If I can't aim properly, I'll be a danger to everyone around me." A hand clasped over his gently, causing him to look up into concerned obsidian eyes.

"You will master this," Severus said. "I have faith in your abilities. You must believe in them too."

Harry nodded. "I think I'm going to try again."

Severus sighed. "Very well. Call me if you need anything, like a little reprieve."

Harry smiled at Severus, amused at the annoyed tone the man was using. "I will, Sev'rus." With that, he got up and went to his sitting room to try again.

TWO

Hermione entered the room quietly, unwilling to alert the Potions Master to the fact that she knew his password. She crept quietly to Harry's room, finding the boy at his desk, writing very slowly on a parchment.

"Harry?" she asked.

Harry jumped, putting a hand to his heart, and turned a playful glare on her. "Don't do that, Hermione!" he exclaimed.

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," she said, moving closer to have a look. "What are you working on?"

Harry's expression darkened as he turned to glare angrily at the parchment. "My name," he said irritably, dipping his quill and bending to work again.

Hermione was confused; she stood behind Harry, watching his trembling hands as he attempted (and failed) to write his name on the parchment in front of him. His hands were shaking so bad the writing looked like nothing more than squiggly lines on the page. Hermione frowned at the page, which was covered with lines. "How long have you been at this?" she asked.

Harry sighed, dropping the quill on the table to rub at his eyes. "A couple of hours," he replied tiredly. "They just won't work." He growled low in his throat, an action he never did.

"Don't make that noise, Harry," Hermione said gently, rubbing Harry's shoulders in an attempt to ease some of his tension. "We never want the things life deals us, but most of the time we're never dealt anything we can't handle. This is an obstacle. You've had bigger obstacles in your path before, and you'll overcome this one just as you have the others. We're all here for you. I know you can beat this."

Harry hung his head, sighing heavily. "Thank you, Hermione," he said quietly.

Hermione had a suspicion that he was holding back tears. "I just don't understand. Why did it have to be me? Hasn't enough happened to me? Did Fate really have to take my hands from me as well?"

Hermione bent over Harry's shoulders, taking hold of his hands and holding them firmly. "You still have your hands, Harry," she told him. "They're right here, and they'll work because you're going to make them listen. They may not want to at first, but your will is strong enough to overcome theirs."

"Well," a voice said from the hall. "If I didn't know you thought of Potter as a brother, I might feel inclined to be jealous."

Hermione turned as she straightened up, giving her boyfriend an irritated look. "I'm trying to help here," she informed him. Malfoy smirked at her.

"I know, Gra…" He cut himself off, his eyes glazing over in some kind of deep thought. "I know, Hermione."

Hermione stared at him, wondering at his behavior. "Will you excuse us, Harry?" she asked turning to her friend to find curious emerald eyes watching her.

"Certainly," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Hermione smiled as she moved toward Malfoy, pulling him along by his arm as she moved into his common room, which was decked out in green and silver, a black couch sitting in front of a rather large fireplace. "Are you all right?" she asked as soon as they were alone.

"Fine," Malfoy said, sitting down and pulling her with him. "Are you all right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes from her place in his lap. "What was that in there? You know I don't care what you call me, as long as it's not derogatory."

Malfoy looked down, picking up her hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. "It's something Professor Snape said. That I shouldn't keep calling you by your surname if I want any intimacy with you."

"But -"

"I'm not talking about physical intimacy, Hermione," Malfoy interrupted. "I'm talking about true intimacy of spirit. I want that." He looked into her eyes. "With you."

Hermione was floored. "Why me, Mal…"

"Draco," he interrupted. "My name is Draco."

"Draco," Hermione corrected softly. "Why do you want that with me?"

Draco looked at her curiously for a moment. "Perhaps I misjudge," he said. He stared at her for several minutes before shaking his head as though to clear it. "Nothing, never mind. What were you saying to Potter in there?"

"Do you know about his hands?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded silently.

"I was offering what comfort I could. I know he can learn to work around it, if only he doesn't give up first."

"He won't give up, he's too stubborn."

Hermione smiled. Draco had Harry's number, that was for certain. She bent to kiss her boyfriend, but he gently pushed her, standing up at the same time. "I haven't finished my homework. Perhaps you should go keep Potter company while I do that."

Hermione was very confused. At first, he was talking about intimacy of the spirit, and then he's brushing her off. It didn't make sense. "I'll drop by to say goodnight before I leave."

Draco nodded, already sitting at the mahogany desk in the corner. He didn't look up as she walked out.

THREE

Draco sighed heavily when he heard his door shut, feeling guilty for lying to his girlfriend, but at the time, he'd only wanted her to be gone. He'd been mulling over what Severus had thought the other day since that night and had decided that Severus was right. How could he expect to have true intimacy with Hermione if he called her 'Granger' all the time? He hadn't expected the response he'd gotten though. He had thought that Hermione would be happy with the change.

He didn't like that Hermione was content with calling him Malfoy. Perhaps she didn't love him as she claimed to. Perhaps he was simply a project for her; some pitiful soul for her to reform before dropping him like a lead weight.

'I love you, Hermione,' he thought. 'Can't you understand that? What would happen if we married each other? What would our children think of us, calling each other by such ambivalent names? Why can't you just love me back? Is that so much to ask? I've done everything you wanted. I changed everything, or rather you changed everything in me.'

He didn't understand women. He'd thought what he'd told her was perfectly clear. What didn't she understand? He sighed again; thinking about this was giving him a headache.

FOUR

Draco stared at Potter in abject horror. The boy was lying on his back on the ground, his knees drawn up with his arms behind his head.

"Stop staring at me, Malfoy," Potter said as his upper body rose, twisted; touching each elbow to its opposite knee, and then went back down.

"What are you doing to yourself?" Draco asked.

"Sit-ups," Potter replied, continuing to work out.

"I can see that," Draco drawled. "But why?"

Potter stayed upright with his next rep. "Because my body has been weakened by all of these bloody visions," he said irritably. "My six-pack is starting to fade." With that, he went back to his sit-ups.

"Won't Quidditch take care of that for you?" Draco asked.

'Oh, for bloody Merlin's sake!' a foreign voice ran through Draco's mind, causing him to spin around.

"What?" Draco asked, before realizing that Potter hadn't spoken aloud.

"What?" Potter asked, not bothering to stop his exercise.

Draco shook his head. "You're completely mental, Potter," he said.

'Whatever,' Potter's mental voice said. "I'm in the middle of something here, Malfoy," he said out loud.

"Erm, yeah," Draco replied. "I'll leave you to it then, shall I?" He left without waiting for a reply. People's thoughts had always had a way of filtering into his mind at the most inopportune moments, but it had never happened so frequently before. He wondered at the increase in volume of other's thoughts in his head, but didn't know what was causing it. He decided to take a walk around the grounds because it was starting to become cool outside, and he was feeling very warm.

He exited the castle at a leisurely pace, wandering over to the lake to watch as the water rippled softy with the wind. Near the center, one of the giant squid's tentacles broke the surface before lazily slipping back under again. Draco sighed; why did human life have to be so complicated? Sometimes he wished that people were still as primitive as they once were; life had to have been easier then.

Draco fanned himself with his hand feeling warmer than he had before coming out, despite the cool October air. He bent, removed his shoes and socks, and sat at the edge of the water, dipping his feet in and relishing in the cold feel of it.

'Why am I so bloody hot?' he wondered, not even noticing his internal use of the swear word. He hiked up his robes and dipped the rest of his legs into the water, feeling hotter by the minute. Quite suddenly, he felt a surge of liquid fire in his veins, infusing him with pain and power. He arched his back painfully, crying out at the intensity of it, before falling into unconsciousness.

FIVE

'So many powerful children this year,' a woman's voice said inside Draco's mind. He struggled with consciousness for several minutes, listening to the woman's internal dialogue in an attempt to figure out who she was. 'I do hope he wakes soon. He's been asleep for nearly two days. That must have been a painful experience for his magic to have blown that tree to bits the way it did. Thank goodness Severus found him.'

Draco groaned as he opened his eyes, only to snap them closed against the bright light of the infirmary.

'Good, he's waking up,' the woman, who Draco assumed was Madame Pomfrey, thought.

"Mr. Malfoy?" she asked aloud.

"What?" Draco asked irritably, putting his arm over his eyes to block out the light.

'I'd better draw the curtains,' Madame Pomfrey thought. A moment later, the bright light dimmed considerably. "Is that better, dear?" she asked.

"Much, thank you," Draco replied, sitting up in the uncomfortable bed.

'I need to inform Severus and the headmaster, but first he needs his potion,' Madame Pomfrey thought. After a minute, she returned holding out a potion to the blonde. "Drink this," she said. 'I'll have to ask Severus for more sensitivity potions. I've never had so many Majorities in one year.'

Draco took the potion, hoping it would get the medi-witch's voice out of his head; it didn't work.

"Is that better, dear?" Madame Pomfrey asked gently. 'He's so pale. He seems scared to death. Surely he knows what Majority is?' "Do you know what happened to you?"

Draco nodded, hoping she would go away soon.

'I'd better go call the headmaster' "I'll be right back, Mr. Malfoy." She walked toward her office, closing the door behind her. He couldn't hear her thoughts from the other room, which greatly relieved him. He sighed heavily, rubbing his face with his hands. He lay back again, hoping that his life wasn't just about to get more complicated.

SIX

The room was full of noise. Draco sat up, holding his hands over his ears, but this did nothing to reduce the sounds assaulting him. He looked around to find the room full of people. Professor Snape, Potter, Hermione, Weasley, Mini-Weasley, Dumbledore, and Madame Pomfrey were all there, though they looked as though they were speaking quietly amongst themselves. Draco realized the noise was all of their thoughts entering his mind at the same time, making it impossible for him to distinguish between them. "Please make it stop," he whimpered, holding his ears tightly, desperate to stop the voices. "Please, I can't take it. Make it stop! Make it stop!"

Everyone was looking at him curiously, concern etched on their faces. "Everyone out!" Madame Pomfrey declared, pushing all the visitors toward the exit. Draco could barely hear her over the sound in his own head. Once everyone was gone, all that was left was Pomfrey's voice.

'My goodness, what was that about? The poor dear seems so confused.' "Mr. Malfoy, tell me what's wrong."

"It was so loud," Draco said, his head pounding from the onslaught. "I could hear everything they were thinking, and it was just mashed up in my head."

'He could hear what they were thinking? How is that possible? Perhaps I should test for delusions. I've never seen Majority affect someone this way.'

"I'm not delusional," Draco snapped at her irritably. "I don't need any tests! I need to be left alone for a moment!"

'He's a telepath! I must speak to Albus!' Madame Pomfrey rushed from the room to speak to Dumbledore.

SEVEN

Harry watched curiously as Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey conversed in hushed tones. After a moment, she turned to address those gathered. "If you want to see him, you'll have to do so one at a time," she said, holding her arms to forestall any arguments. "One at a time or not at all, that's final!" She disappeared into the ward, only to appear again a moment later, beckoning Harry into the room. Harry was confused, but he didn't argue. He wanted to see Malfoy as much as everyone else there, after all.

"Hey, Malfoy," he said, sitting down next to the bed.

Malfoy looked at him curiously, cocking his head to the side as though he was listening for something. "I don't hear anything," he said after a moment.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Neither do I," he said. "It's usually very quiet up here. I expect that Madame Pomfrey keeps silencing charms on the ward."

"That's not what I mean," Malfoy replied, waving away Harry's explanation. Harry listened with astonishment as Malfoy explained that he could hear people's thoughts.

"Well," he muttered when Malfoy had finished. "I suppose my Occlumency keeps you from hearing much from me. I keep my mind pretty heavily guarded."

"I suppose that makes sense. I don't know what to do, Harry. I'm so confused! What am I going to do when I have to go back to school? I don't know how to control this! It's too much!"

"You say that like you've experienced this before," Harry observed.

"I've always had it," Malfoy replied. "But it was never like this. I would hear someone's thoughts every once in a while. It's been three years since I heard someone think, and then in the last few days, I heard it twice. I didn't think anything of it, though. I thought, oh well my mind is just a little extra sensitive this week; it's a fluke, nothing more. Ha! I wish."

Harry shook his head, thinking hard. After a moment he said, "Maybe Occlumency can help you. I mean, the whole reason I learned it was to keep Voldemort out of my head. Maybe it could help you keep all this out of yours."

"Maybe," Malfoy agreed. "I hope so."

"Are you feeling okay?" Harry asked. "You look a little strained."

"All of those thoughts gave me a migraine," Malfoy replied.

"I could heal you, if you like," Harry suggested.

Malfoy studied him for a moment, before nodding his consent. Harry moved to Malfoy's side, placing his hand on the blonde head. He closed his eyes, looking for the source of the pain before finding a strong, pulsating pressure point on Malfoy's brain. "Heal," he whispered, pushing his magic to the pain, reducing it to nothing.

"Thanks," Malfoy sighed gratefully.

Harry nodded sharply, sitting back down. "Learn to ask. I have the ability for a reason, you know."

Malfoy smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, right," he said, nodding. Harry chuckled. "Could you tell Hermione to come in?"

"Sure," Harry replied, standing. "Do you want me to stay?"

Malfoy nodded, not looking at Harry. Harry placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "There's no shame in asking for help," he said.

"I know," Malfoy replied, though Harry wasn't sure if he meant it.

"Hermione," Harry said, pushing open the door slightly. "He wants to see you next."

Hermione moved toward him quickly, tears on her face and deep concern in her eyes. "Are you staying? I thought he was only allowed one at a time."

"Don't worry," Harry assured. "He asked me to stay. Come on." After Hermione entered, Harry let the door swing closed again, moving to a safe distance to allow the couple their privacy. Hermione reached out, taking Malfoy's hand in hers, stroking the back gently.

The thought, 'Should I tell her?' entered Harry's mind without prompting. He saw that Malfoy was looking at him questioningly. Harry shook his head sharply, unsure of how that information would affect Hermione. It might freak her out to know that her boyfriend could read her mind, that he, in fact, couldn't not read her mind. This was going to be a problem if Draco didn't learn to control his ability. They talked for a few more minutes before Hermione left and Ron came in.

"Hey, mate," Ron said, sitting down. "You had us all worried, but Hermione says you're fine now."

Draco smiled. "I'll be all right as long as not too many people come in here at once," he said.

"Why?" Ron asked.

Draco shrugged. "I feel claustrophobic for some reason," he said. "It'll go away, I'm sure."

Harry was impressed at how easily the lie rolled off of Draco's tongue. He needed to learn how to lie like that.

EIGHT

Draco met with Snape next, curious about the man's thoughts on his problem. He couldn't hear Snape's mind either, but that didn't surprise Draco in the slightest; he figured that Snape taught Harry Occlumency, so it stood to reason that he'd practice it at all times too.

"Can you teach me?" he asked, after explaining his ability thoroughly. "Do you think it will help?"

Snape was rubbing his bottom lip gently. "I'm not certain that will help," he said after a moment. "I shall speak to the headmaster and ascertain his opinion on the matter." Harry was sitting next to Snape, quietly holding his hand offering support for the stressed man.

When the meeting was over, they went to the other side of the ward together. They spoke quietly for several moments before Snape pulled Harry into a lingering kiss, running his hands through Harry's raven locks.

'I love you,' Snape's voice echoed in Draco's mind, causing him to wonder why the man never told Harry this out loud. The two broke apart, exchanging a few more words before Snape left and Mini-Weasley came in. She stood away from Draco, near the door, fidgeting nervously.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she said.

"What for?" Draco asked. She wasn't broadcasting anything, making Draco wonder if she knew Occlumency too.

"For last year," she replied. "You fought your own father to protect Harry. He means a lot to all of us. Thank you for helping him." With that, she left quickly.

"Odd, that one," Draco said to Harry, who was standing in a corner, staring out of the window.

"She's only quiet when she doesn't know you," Harry replied softly. He seemed deep in thought. "Wait until she considers you a friend; she'll never shut up then." He turned to offer Draco a smile before turning back to the window.

"Is something bothering you?" Draco asked.

"Sev'rus," Harry replied. "He's under so much strain already, and stuff just keeps piling up on him."

"He's stronger than you give him credit for," Draco replied. "He had to be a spy for all those years."

"This is different," Harry said softly. "Emotional stress is different than fearing for you life. He fought then to stay alive. He fights now to keep us alive, and the strain is starting to show."

Draco nodded his understanding. Snape loved Harry, but Harry was likely to be dead soon, and Snape couldn't stand the thought. Draco knew that when Harry had said 'us' he'd meant 'me'.

Author's Note: You're all so wonderful to me. I love every one of you! Thanks for all of your wonderful support. Many thanks to Victoria Ennis for her hard work, once again. Thanks also to…

Sliver of Melody

Shiemi Shimabukuro

CogniDi: Ah, I understand what you were asking now. Yes, Harry's is the violet one. I do like that line pretty well myself. Hehehehe

DestinyEntwinements: Yes, I like cookies. Yes, I'm going to do the final confrontation, but I doubt it'll be what you're expecting. The fic is 32 chapters long.

Sword and Magic

Ktoddhim

Sh'arra Rie: Yes, I'll send it along for you.

LeeLeePotter

Mariana: Thank you

Hikari-Aoi: Hehehehehe. Most wonderful, yes.

Kears: Draco's just a prat sometimes.