Disclaimer: characters belong to JKR and various publishers
Author's notes: I started this fic sometime after HBP and have been writing at it (more or less) since then. In my fictional world, it took Harry seven years to destroy all hocruxes, and Voldemort about the same time to gather his forces. Still I tried to fit in some facts from the seventh book. I think you will only recognize them if you know the book.
This is post-war, so Voldemort is defeated. Definitely. There are enough other things to deal with.
Thanks go, as always to my lovely Numair, who reads this even if she hates slash. *hugs*
Chapter 2
When Draco woke up the next morning, he firstly didn't remember anything. All he noticed was the soft linen under his hands and the warm cover over him. It had been long since he had slept in a proper bed the last time and he stayed still not daring to open his eyes in case this was all just a dream.
But then he heard two voices arguing quietly and he listened closely.
"...yes, Dobby, I know this is your former master," said the first voice, apparently the one of a male wizard about his age, and Draco thought he knew it, but being still dazed from sleep, he couldn't place it.
"...but he is ill and needs breakfast just like I do," Draco wondered who these two were talking about, but if the person was ill, he or she probably wouldn't talk. The blond listened as the man's voice continued. "I know they might have treated you badly..."
"Very badly," he heard the second, very high voice admit forcefully, before it gave a squeak and suddenly all Draco could hear was a loud banging and desperate shouting of the man: "Dobby stop! Put down the bottle! Dobby! Stop it!"
Draco's curiosity now won over the need to stay where it was comfortable, and he sat up to look at the strange couple.
...But everything was black around him.
He turned his head several times but still couldn't find any source of light.
"Hey!" he shouted a little panically, "are you some kind of earth-people? Put on some lights!"
The two other voices immediately stopped and it stayed silent for some seconds. Then the first voice spoke.
"Malfoy."
And in this one word there was so much disbelieve, worry, pity and mostly, disdain mixed together that now Draco knew exactly whom this voice belonged to. Together with this realization there came yesterday's memories and he had to fight really hard to suppress any emotion showing on his face. Instead he let out an angry hiss.
"Potter."
"Malfoy." Potter said, and this time his voice was controlled and almost polite. "How are you feeling?"
Draco just snarled. "What is it to you?"
"Well, someone kind of fell in my arms yesterday, pleading for help and I was stupid enough to do as he wanted to." The other man's voice had started defensively, but soon, as if they had travelled 7 years back in time, it became more and more aggressive.
"Stupid indeed. Everybody would have walked away, but Harry Potter, the saviour of the world, can't get over his complexes and has to help."
The irony was practically dripping from Draco's words.
"I have no complexes!" Potter shouted immediately back.
"Oh, of course not." Draco snapped. "So why did you help me then?"
At first the former Gryffindor had no answer to that, but then he said defensively, "You begged!"
The blond just crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Malfoys never beg! So if you now give me my wand back, then I will walk out of here and we can both forget about the whole thing."
Potter let out a hollow laugh. "Oh, really?!"
Draco didn't move a muscle so the other man continued. "No, Malfoy, I confiscated your wand."
Without even giving the other man a chance to reply, he went on. "Even if I hadn't seen your Dark Mark yet, I'd know that you were Voldemort's follower. And just because I helped you to get medical care, it doesn't mean that I trust you one second. Your wand stays in my care until you get your trial."
Now, Draco sneered. "Until I get my trial? Very noble of you, Potter. And who's going to hold the trial? The ministry's barely existing, do you really think they have time to judge over so called 'criminals' right now?"
Draco could hear the former Gryffindor gnashing his teeth.
"I don't care when how long it will take for you to get your well-earned punishment, but I can wait."
The blond let out a dry laugh. "You don't know anything about me, Potter."
Suddenly the high-pitched voice that had argued with Potter before tuned in again.
"Please, sirs, Mr. Potter, sir. Dobby has brought some breakfast, as you asked for, Mr. Potter, sir."
The realization that this voice belonged to a house-elf struck Draco like a lightning, and something about the creature's whining seemed familiar, but he could not place, not without being able to see his opponent.
Potter in the meanwhile seemed to have gotten over his tantrum, and was talking to that thing in a polite and quiet tone, so that Draco didn't understand a word. Which annoyed him a great deal, only that in contrary to other magicians in this room, he was very good at hiding what was going on in his head.
"Malfoy."
The voice coming from somewhere very close to his right side nearly gave him a heart-attack and most certainly made him flinch.
He tried to hide it by snapping at the former Gryffindor. "What?!"
But there was so much pity in Potter's voice when he answered that it was clear he had seen through the act.
"Your breakfast, Malfoy."
Draco hated him for it. There were a lot of things in his life that he didn't like, but pity was one of the things he loathed, especially when it was directed at him.
"I'm not hungry." he said in a tone that made water freeze.
"You're ill. You should eat."
Somehow Potter's voice was coloured with even more pity and Draco could practically see him with the same look Dumbledore had given him on more than one occasion. It irritated the hell out of him.
"I'm. Not. Hungry." he repeated in a dangerously calm voice.
Suddenly a plate was shoved forcefully onto his belly.
"You know what? Fuck you, Malfoy!" and the sound of angry footsteps followed by the bang of a door announced Potter's departure.
Draco was so astonished, he stayed unmoving for some seconds, then he shook his head and said with a half smile. "His temper hasn't changed a bit."
"Oh, it most definitely has." The house-elf spoke up, clearly disobeying every good house-elf's law. Additionally it also gave Draco the second fright in about a minute which was definitely too much. He did not like this elf and he itched for his wand to give it a proper punishment. But Potter had taken it with him, so he was left with nothing but glaring. He did glare in the general direction the voice had last spoken from, but was once again surprised when the house-elf spoke from the other side of the bed.
"Master Malfoy should eat!"
It seemed to move around the room, when Draco concentrated, he could even hear the creature's bare feet padding on the ground. He soon got tired of concentrating though, and because he didn't like to be surprised again, he started a conversation with the elf.
"Why do you call me 'Master'?"
There was a moment when the creature seemed to struggle with a proper answer, but then maybe it was just too stupid to understand anything that wasn't a direct order.
It did answer after a second though. "Master Malfoy is Dobby's former master, so Dobby keeps talking and thinking about him as a master, if he doesn't pay enough attention. If master wishes, Dobby will call him 'Mister Malfoy' from now on."
The carefully polite voice piqued Draco's attention. He couldn't recall any house-elf leaving the Malfoy household except for the ...casualties. But the house-elves had been his father's business and even after he had been sent to prison, Draco had never cared to learn any house-elf's name or face, as long as everything was tidy.
"You worked for the Malfoys?" the former Slytherin asked. His tone was polite, because he was curious, and, if he was true to himself, he didn't want to stay in the darkness all alone.
"Dobby did." The house-elf still wasn't sure what to think of the situation.
"And where do you work now?" Draco could almost see Lucius turning in his grave. His son doing polite conversation with a house-elf! He almost smiled at the thought.
"Dobby works in Hogwarts now." and then with a little more force he added, "Since Mister Harry Potter freed him, he does."
Draco now really laughed out loud. It was so much like Potter to sneak into Malfoy Manor to free one of house-elves of their 'terrible' fate.
"Tell me!" he said in between two fits of laughter. "Tell me how he did it."
The house-elf seemed to think about it, but after a moment it answered in a sly tone.
"Dobby will - but only if Master Malfoy eats his breakfast."
When Harry, driven by his bad conscience, walked into the Hospital Wing an hour later, he was greeted by a very strange sight. Dobby was sitting on one of the bedposts at the feet of Malfoy's bed and they were in deep conversation. The former Gryffindor stopped in the shadow of the door and silently watched the two of them. Dobby seemed relaxed in the company of his former master, much more than he was when Harry was around. And Draco Malfoy, who he had always thought to respect nothing but pure-blooded wizards had his attention fixed completely on the small house-elf, his head bent, so his left ear was turned towards the creature, his face completely unguarded and showing all emotions openly. Suddenly Dobby apparently said something funny, because Malfoy threw his head back and started to laugh.
Harry found himself wondering what they were laughing about and wanting to join, but then he reminded himself that this was a Death Eater and that he should feel no positive feeling whatsoever for him. So with a forceful stride he walked towards the bed on which the two of them were sitting.
With a squeak Dobby jumped of the bed and started babbling excuses and something about Malfoy's breakfast, but Harry didn't listen to him.
"Malfoy.", he said putting as much disdain in his voice as he could muster.
Malfoy's expression had gone from open to guarded the second he had heard footsteps.
"Potter," he said in mock-politeness, "I already thought that it had been your soft footsteps approaching."
Harry ignored his comment and continued in an even voice.
"I'm going to get Madam Pomfrey, so she can do a proper check-through, now you're awake."
"I already told you, I'm perfectly fine and do not need anyone's help." the blond tried to interfere, but Harry had turned his attention towards the house-elf that was shrinking into a corner fearing punishment.
"Dobby, keep an eye on him, as long as I'm away. I won't be long, so don't worry!"
And then he turned and went to the fire this time completely vanishing in it, leaving behind a shivering house-elf and an angry Malfoy.
When Harry arrived at St Mungo's at had dusted off most of the ash, he was immediately greeted by the same receptionist that had been there the day before.
"Hello, Mr. Potter. How's your cold?"
The former Gryffindor looked at her for a moment dumbfolded. But then he realized that this had been Mme Pomfrey's excuse for him and a wave of gratefulness washed over him. You could rely on the medi-witch to keep any secret whatsoever.
He gave the young witch a smile. "Oh, thank you, it's much better. I just wanted to ask Mme Pomfrey one more favour, so if you could please call her?"
"Of course, Mr. Potter, just give me a second."
This time it took Hogwarts' medi-witch longer to get to Harry, which was most probably because she didn't come in a stampede. She still walked quite fast, but Harry figured that this was just one more thing she had learned to do when caring for more than one patient in the hospital wing. When she arrived, she gave the dark haired wizard a concerned look that was quickly covered with a smile, when she noticed that the receptionist had caught up with her.
"Cassy said you have a favour to ask?" she inclined.
"Yes Ma'am.", Harry said blandly, "I dropped the glass with the potion I had to drink this morning, and I can't remember which vial you took it from." A few years ago, the pure thought of such an air-gripped story would have made him blush and stutter, but war taught a lot of things, and lying had been among those for Harry. He gave the two witches an apologizing smile, which the receptionist returned while Mme Pomfrey didn't bat an eyelid.
"I'll come over and pour you another glass myself." she said, playing along by rolling her eyes.
Harry gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Mme Pomfrey. I'll go ahead." And see that Malfoy still hasn't murdered anyone or anything, he added to himself.
But the former Slytherin hadn't. On contrary he was still sitting on his bed tense as a bow.
"Malfoy.", Harry greeted him, and at the sound of his cold voice the blond relaxed even if it was just for a fraction. Then a second swush from the fireplace announced Mme Pomfrey's arrival and he tensed again.
The medi-witch cleaned herself and then went over to her patient. "Mr. Malfoy! I see you are awake, now. How are you feeling?"
Malfoy cocked his head and still tense asked one question.
"Mme Pomfrey?"
Before the witch had the chance to answer, Harry snorted. "What did you expect? An auror squad?"
Malfoy just glared in the other man's general direction and the nurse gave him a stern look before turning back to her patient. "It is me, Mr. Malfoy." She said quietly, then she repeated her question. "How are you feeling?"
The former Slytherin sat up straight and formed his face into a blank mask. "I'm perfectly fine, Mme Pomfrey."
The medi-witch gave him a no-nonsense stare, and then with so much sarcasm, it would have made Snape proud, she said, "Of course."
Malfoy still tried to keep it up. "Madam, with all due respect, I'm really fine. The spell, or whatever it was, will soon wear off, and then I will be able to walk out here again. I don't need your help."
Harry refrained himself from snorting, because he knew, the nurse wouldn't take it well. She had already put her hands on her hips and looked down at the blond crossly.
"Mr. Malfoy, I will say this just once. You are not well. Whatever magic hit you, it severed your nerves for sight. Permanently."
And at these words, Malfoy', who had kept upright the whole time since he woke up this morning, bend his back in defeat and his blank mask fractured to show total despair on the man's face. For a moment he just stared in space, but then he put his face into his hands and his whole body began to shake in silent sobs. Neither Mme Pomfrey nor Harry said a word. After a while the blond regained some of his posture. He looked up towards the medi-witch.
"Is there any way to heal it?"
The nurse's voice was soft when she answered him. "I have never seen anything like it, and all of my colleagues, I had the chance to ask yesterday, didn't know anything as well. But you mustn't give up hope, Mr. Malfoy. Quite often there is a way to heal it and it has just been forgotten over time, " after a little pause she added. "or it just has to be invented yet. Anyway, you will see, just have a little patience and it will be alright again." The last sentence was forceful, more like an incantation than a promise. "And now, if you let me, I'd like to do some more examinations."
Malfoy just nodded and for a moment all that could be heard were the nurse's quiet incarnations and questions, which the blond with a just as quiet voice. Then the witch stood up straight, and said in what Harry called her 'room-voice' now, "Well apart from your blindness, you are quite fine, Mr. Malfoy. I suppose you would do better with a little more sleep than usually, but apart from that you should require nothing. I'm sure Mr. Potter will be there whenever you need something."
"What?!" The exclamation came from both wizards' mouths, but it was Harry who continued first. "Mme Pomfrey, you can't be serious! I have enough to do without looking after a Death Eater."
Malfoy snorted. "I don't need the Hero of the Wizarding World to watch me like a little child. I'm perfectly capable to take care of myself."
Harry interrupted him before he could say more. "Oh, yes, of course! That's why you fell into my arms yesterday, right?"
"You seem to have liked holding me very much, because you keep bringing it up again and again."
The dark haired let out a dry laugh. "You wish, Malfoy. There is nothing I like less than touching you, apart from being in the same room with you."
Malfoy didn't back down. "Oh really? So tell me, why are you still here? I already told you, I don't need your help."
"ENOUGH!" Mme Pomfrey shouted, hands on her hips and if looks could kill then she would have to deal with two less patients the rest of her live. "I have not the time to deal with the childish behaviour of yours. There are other, much more critical patients waiting for me." She turned to Harry and pierced him with a look. "You Mr. Potter wanted to help, so now you do it. Keep an eye on him all the time until he learns to find his way around by himself. Is that understood?!"
Harry felt and answered like a schoolboy after this tirade. "Yes, but..."
He was cut off again, because now Mme Pomfrey had turned towards the other wizard, who was shrinking with every word she directed at him. "And you, Mr. Malfoy, will keep it down as well. I've had enough of you since that little scratch on your arm in your third year! You are my patient that is well alright, but I will not hear any complains!" Then she added in a far more calmer and caring tone. "I understand what you must be going through and I promise to do my best to help and find a cure." Her voice got sharp again. "But only if you can keep a hold onto yourself."
Malfoy kept his head bent. "Yes, Mme Pomfrey."
The witch nodded. "Good. If you excuse me now..."
She was almost at the fireplace when Harry stopped her. "Mme Pomfrey!" The witch turned around, waiting.
"I-I", he started, once again feeling like a schoolboy. He cleared his throat. "I have to prepare my lessons and I can't do it here. I cannot take care of him, not the whole day."
The nurse's face had become clouded again. "Enough of this childish chatter. Take him to your rooms, for all I care. And I don't want to hear another word." And with some forceful strides she stomped towards the fireplace and was gone in seconds.
After her departure the hospital wing was quiet for some seconds.
Then Potter mumbled something that sounded very much like "I guess it can't be helped." before he raised his voice again.
"Well then, let's go! The sooner I get you there the earlier I get my peace again."
Draco carefully got up and took some time to let his feet get used to his weight again. Then he waited for Potter to take his arm to lead him to their destination, but instead that idiot started to walk away.
"Hey!" The blond shouted angrily.
"What?" the other man sounded almost surprised.
"Aren't you going to lead me to your quarters?"
"Er - yes?" Draco could practically see Potter's stupid, bewildered face.
"Come on!" he exclaimed. "You're not hinting that I'm to follow the sound of your footsteps?!"
The following silence was answer enough, so Draco just held out his hand. When the dark haired still didn't move, the ex-Death Eater got angry.
"It's not as if I had some kind of disease! And I'm not going to bite you either. Just grab my hand, place it on your stupid elbow and get the hell going!"
Again Potter hesitated for some seconds, but then he finally reached out and did as instructed. After the first few awkward steps, they fell into a rhythm, Draco half a step behind the other man, trying to remember how often they turned into which direction. After the fourth - or fifth? - corner he gave up though, concentrating more on where to put his feet as he had almost fallen over a carpet.
When Scarface even remembered to warn him in front the stairs, Draco decided to grace him again with a little bit of conversation.
"See? It's not that bad! With your behaviour earlier, one could almost get the impression that you are afraid of human contact!"
Potter's answer came a bit too fast. "I'm not!"
The blond stopped immediately and turned to face the former Gryffindor. "You are not!"
"No, I'm not." Potter seemed a bit hesitant. "It's just that I don't like it, really."
Draco closed his eyes theatrically and turned towards their original direction again. "Okay, I don't want to hear more. How disturbed can one person be? Just keep going. I want to reach that room of yours before bed time!"
"We're almost there."
And they really were as after another corner Potter stopped and turned around 90°.
"We're there. It's actually password-protected, but I'm going to change it into a thought-protected one, so nobody but the two of us can enter without permission."
He did neither explain what thought-protected really meant nor did he say the password out loud, but still the door in front of them opened with a small creak and let Draco in to the place that from now on would be his home.
When he entered the room he could at once hear and smell the crackling fire the house-elves must have lit against the chill of the evening. With a little more concentration he could also make out the scent of old wood and paper, and another one that seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite name yet.
Potter had stood next to him unmoving and given him time to adjust to this new place. Now something in Draco's face had apparently told him that the blond had finished and so he moved his elbow a little.
"Coming?"
Draco nodded and let the man lead him through the first room which was probably the living room into another one that also had a fire burning and smelled much the same, only less of old paper and more of that unidentified smell, the blond had already noticed before. It wasn't intense or even bad, more underlining and somehow it smelled nice and comfortable.
"Ok, give me a second," the dark haired pulled him out of his thoughts, "I'll only transform the sofa into a second bed, so you have something proper to lie on."
This seemed to be one of the things Potter couldn't do without a wand and so Draco let go and for the first time in his life listened to a transforming spell work, in contrary to seeing it, which made the whole thing new and very different.
"Well, Her...- I mean, it's probably not what you are used from home," the former Gryffindor commented his work, "but it should be comfortable enough."
"Potter, it's been years since I've been at Malfoy's Manor. I heard after your rally, the protection spells there have gone mad and I definitely don't want to be the first try to sort these things out."
"Well..." the other wizard almost sounded as if he wouldn't mind being the first to go into a mad manor. But he didn't dig further and only took Draco's hand again and led him to his new bed.
"So," he explained, "this is where you sleep. The bathroom is just next to the feet of your bed. The toilet is on the left wall just behind the sink. On the other wall is the bathtub. In here there is my bed parallel to yours, in between there's a nightstand, you can use it if you want to. To the feet of my bed there's a trunk and on the wall a cupboard. The trunk is secured, so don't even try to open it, but the cupboard is free for you to use."
Draco, who had listened carefully, now drew a face. "Potter, I don't have anything to put into a cupboard! And even if I got a bit used to this state through the last years and don't particularly like it."
"If you think," Potter interrupted, "that I'm going to buy something for or even with you, you better forget this at once! And now, if you excuse me, I've got work to do." And with the bang of a door the wizard was out of the room.
"But I don't excuse you!" shouted Draco after him, but that bugger had probably put a Silencio on that door. "Fuck! I hate having nothing and I hate this room, and I hate being blind and I absolutely hate hate Potter!"
The blond let himself fall back onto the bed in frustration. "I really hate him. Even if he can make comfortable beds."
~~tbc~~
