but, i've already written most of the next capter so enjoy! (the story picks up the pace again next ch.)
i have over 1000 reads and 50 reviews on foreverfandom and over 120 reviews on ff . net ! I'm so happy.
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Twister does anyone see though you You're a twister, an animal But you're happy now I didn't go along with you So happy now But you're going to have to hold on hold on Or we're going to have to move on Move on I feel alright And I cried so hard The ridiculous thoughts -Cranberries
Lily's POV
Harry's has always been a mystery to me, even when he was a little child. I always loved him, but, I, his own mother, couldn't understand my own child!
Even at a young age, he was distant. Always loving, a good child and the best son that I could hope for... but always distant.
He never kept his friends for long when growing up, unlike the other children who would cling to their "best friend" when their parents tried to take them home. No, Harry always calmly left when it was time to leave, saying a careless goodbye on the way. I even got desperate enough that I brought him to a psychiatrist, who simply told me he would grow out of it. that was a waste of both our time... I thought that things were better, when after I mentioned it to my sister years ago, who suggested that Harry com over and play with Dudley. They seemed to get along well, both me and Petunia saw it; Harry seemed to be happier with more family around him. He started voluntarily leaving the house. He even made two friends at school, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. The relationship between the three flourished, and Harry opened himself to them.
I never saw it coming.
I never could figure it out; what could make Harry behave so brutally? What caused him to treat Dudley that way? Dudley had ended up in the emergency room; the doctors told his parents that he would most likely have back problems for a while after. He said that they were lucky that he would still be able to walk!
But, now I know better. I wanted to hurt my nephew the second the words spilled from Harry's lips. I wanted him to hurt. I felt guilty for believing even for a moment that my son could do such a thing.
But I was even more surprised at the arrival of my son's lover.
I could tell that there was something between them from the moment I saw them. Something quiet, yet strong. Something unsettling, about them both. Harry's appearance had changed, though I doubt that noticed that I could see it. James could see it, but all the man said was "As long as Harry isn't hurt..."
I wasn't afraid of him, not my own son, but I was afraid of Draco malfoy. I could tell that he what it was like to kill a man, maybe many. That slaughtering the flesh and bone didn't faze him. I could tell that my son loved everything there is about this person. It made me wonder about what type of person my son is, and then I feel guilty. I think I'm beginning to understand that I can't tear Harry away. I don't want him to hate me.
Maybe my husband is right. "As long as Harry isn't hurt," I shouldn't try to fix him.
It's just that I worry that it might be my fault; I was the one who let Harry go to see Dudley. I wonder if I gave him too much freedom in his youth; maybe I should have tried harder to get him to make good friends, not that Ron and Hermione aren't good friends. I am thrilled that they are there for him, but... I want to protect him. But, maybe I can't.
And Ron and Hermione seem to not have a problem with his relationship, if they know, so maybe I'm wrong. In fact, they seem to not even pay attention, not even now that they're almost public about it. But I still can't shake that there's something... But I can tell that he loves my son. Draco rarely lets Harry out of his sight; he does seem possessive, but not overly.
So, maybe I'm wrong.
hr Draco's P.O.V.
I could feel the difference the second I left the house. The pain. Not a physical pain, a mental one. I can't remember the last time I felt physical pain. It's as if something in me shifted, but I can ignore it for now. I survived eighteen years without letting it get to me; I can make it for a few hours.
I can't help growling to myself as I shut the door to the house. But, I had to clean up the mess before Harry's parents saw it. If they went ballistic over a neck wound, I could imagine what they would do it they saw our bed. Speaking of our bed, I want to be back there. Not doing clean up work. But, Harry has to talk to his parents. Alone.
I really hope they accept us... Harry would kill me if I harmed them to get to him. He loves me, but he loves them as well.
But if they were dead... then I would have Harry all to myself...
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I'm still feeling the strain by the time I return. I've snuck back in several times to remove and replace things in the room, as quietly as possible, but I didn't once see Harry. He stayed down stairs with his parents, keeping the talking. The calm I usually felt around him was fleeting at best, but it was comforting to just in the same house.
I make one last trip to see my father and mother, to give Harry more time. They greet me happily, as always. Lucius warns me that Voldemort is looking for me. He was looking for my mate as well. They advise me to warn Harry, so he can be careful. I don't want to worry him; I can protect him. I wanted to stay a little longer, but they told me to leave. They could tell that the separation, even for only a few hours, was having its affects on me. They told me to hurry back to Harry, to not make any stops.
I wish I had listened.
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