Disclaimer: Me, own Harry Potter? Non! I do not own Harry Potter... But I do own my supper, that I sang for.
A/N This update is getting posted earleir then I originally thought! Yay! Big cheer for Silvas and Chronyi! I am glad some of you enjoyed my spoilers while they lasted :) Side-Note on this chapter, Harry has plans, oh yes, Harry has plans! Side-Side-Note: the lack of intamacy on Harry and Draco's part is killing me, very soon I will be writing a scene between them but because of rules, we all know editing is in order. I'm not sure how I'm going to go about this but when that scene is ready, for those who want slashy-slashy, I'll let you know more details. Now go read the nine pages I perfected :P
"Sleeping Out".
"Malfoy, help me out here! Lift your leg up!" Harry demanded as he tried to get Malfoy's legs out of his black pants.
Harry had managed to carry Malfoy this far and he was not going to stop until Malfoy was in a bath and being cleaned!
He had carried the distraught Malfoy all the way up the dungeon stairs, through a few hallways with students, and into a bathroom, all unnoticed. It had been no easy task, with Malfoy crying and almost bringing about thirty students' attention to the odd pair.
And an odd pair they were indeed.
Stumbling across the stones while Malfoy mostly clung to him and barely helped Harry maneuver him around.
Harry had almost slapped Malfoy in the face, but the need to help the boy regrettably overcame any annoyance he felt.
But now, safe from being seen, Harry was having one hell of a time making Malfoy cooperate with him and take off his damn clothes.
"Malfoy, lift your leg up," Harry said more forcefully, placing a hand on Malfoy's leg.
Harry was looking up at Malfoy from his crouching position and Malfoy's head shot down at him with fear plastered onto his face. "Don't—" Malfoy tried to say.
Harry glared up at Malfoy and slowly stood up. "Malfoy, if you don't let me help you, people are going to ask questions," Harry told him. Harry had a feeling that was the magic word to say to Draco, because even though the boy looked doubtful, fear shone through his grey eyes.
"They wouldn't bother with me," Draco retorted confidently. Harry shook his head and pointed to the mirror behind them. Draco followed his finger and stared at his reflection. Harry didn't see any quick reaction in Malfoy to the dirty faces reflected to them in the glass, but he would change that.
"Malfoy, look at yourself! Anyone would ask questions about a dust monster," Harry said dryly.
Malfoy took a second look at himself and the reaction to his sporting new look was instant. Harry smirked when Malfoy clued in.
"I can't be noticed! No questions, no one can know!" Malfoy panicked, cried out. The other boy was still in a weird mood, so Harry decided that as Malfoy was completely stupid right now, he would be kind enough to help him.
He came up behind Malfoy and patted his shoulder gently.
Malfoy's head whipped around and Draco stared at Harry with wide eyes. Harry leaned closer to Malfoy's ear and whispered his suggestions. "Well why don't you take off your clothes and get into that shower over there," Harry looked over at one of the shower stalls, "and get that dirt off of your body. I'll stand guard in case someone comes in, and I promise not to peek."
Why would I want to peek in on Malfoy anyway? Harry stepped back from Malfoy who seemed to be shaking now. "You—You won't do anything?" Malfoy feebly asked. Harry had a feeling Malfoy was more or less trying to reassure himself of something rather then get an answer from Harry.
"I'll be here if you need help, that's all," Harry responded sincerely. Malfoy sent him one last look before he moved to one of the shower stalls. Harry watched him pull the curtain and waited for a minute then heard Malfoy groan loudly.
"Malfoy, do you need help in there?" Harry asked through the beige curtain. He'd decided to lean against the wall beside the stall Malfoy had gone into, the mirror facing him and his horrible appearance.
Malfoy stifled a cry and was probably attempting to get up after falling as he'd been having trouble with his legs.
"I—I—Oh Fuck. Potter, please," Malfoy got out in a scared voice. Harry smiled in spite of himself and turned around to face the curtain. He almost opened the curtain but stalled for a second.
"You have to promise not to freak out when I come in there," Harry said. He didn't want Malfoy to be reduced to a puddle if he went in there to help the boy.
Harry heard Malfoy make another whimper as he made his decision.
Then Malfoy opened the curtain before Harry had a chance to reach for it.
Harry would have gasped at what he saw on Malfoy's body, but he knew better at the moment. Draco was covered in bruises, and dried blood was flaking off his legs. The problem was fresh blood was also crawling down his legs.
The older scars that were obviously from a knife still made Harry cringe, but the fresh scrapes were evidently not made from a knife. Malfoy hadn't done this to himself, not that Harry had suspected he had.
Malfoy was in a changing area at the moment and the shower was running behind his back. Harry slowly entered the changing area, never taking his eyes off of Malfoy's form. Harry was busy calming himself enough to think rationally with a naked Malfoy in front of him. Draco looked terrified.
"Malfoy, where is that blood coming from?" Harry asked. He was concerned and a bit afraid of what it insinuated, because of where the blood appeared to be flowing from.
Malfoy's face looked like it was ready to crumple so Harry knew he had to act fast.
"Draco, I'll heal you," Harry offered, but Malfoy only shook and started to sob.
"Calm down okay. You need to be—"
Malfoy interrupted him by croaking out, "How can I be calm? HOW CAN I BE CALM? I can't, not now! I'M FILTH! I'm useless! I let myself get caught; I did this to me! He just—He just—" Malfoy hollered and stepped back, getting himself sprayed with the water that had been running in the background.
Harry just stood dumbfounded and his anger at 'He' was growing steadily. "Draco," Harry said finally, and touched Malfoy's chest gently.
This only created another image, raging through his mind.
Draco's pale hands wrapped around his shoulders, Harry kissing Draco's neck furiously, and pleasure coming from being able to push inside of Draco slowly. An image of Draco smiling up at him and him feeling so overwhelmed by sheer need to shoot over the edge, and something more.
Harry pulled his hand away from Malfoy's chest like Malfoy was a piranha, and the touch distracted Malfoy's break down. They were staring at each other, just staring, before Harry managed to choke out a question, "Have we--Did we—Umm, Oh shit."
I'm a virgin! But my memory… Don't tell me I lost it to him? That would, explain some things, though.
Malfoy stopped all movement and stood under the water that was raining down on his body, washing away the grime stuck on his skin. "What?" he asked, still looking vulnerable.
"Malfoy, I lost my memory right?" Harry started off, waiting for Malfoy to answer. Malfoy didn't show any annoyance, as Harry was sure he would have. He only nodded in response. Harry took it and continued, "I think my memories coming back."
That was all Draco had to hear. He hadn't been thinking about anything other then how worthless he was since Zabini attacked, sullied, and ruined him. Does he remember me? Does it matter now? "Do you remember," Draco tried to ask, but the words got caught in his throat. How can I deserve to have him? Do I want him again? I…
"Remember you? Yes," Harry said stiffly, getting used to the idea that all the signs led up to him having a serious relationship with Draco. Harry wanted to back away from the blonde, instead he moved a little closer. It would explain why I kissed him; did I love him? Harry thought to himself. Even without knowing the answer he wanted to help Draco.
I'll worry about myself later. Right now I need to find out what happened to him, Harry decided in his mind.
"Malfoy, what happened to you? And please, give me an answer," Harry asked calmly, caressing a hand across one of Malfoy's bruises.
Malfoy melted.
Malfoy melted right into his arms and sobbed, crying out his ill truth, "Zabini—He—He." Harry should have guessed it was Zabini. That git had been giving Malfoy more then his fair share of trouble. Knowing it was Zabini was enough for Harry to want to go out and create Zabini's death sentence. But with Draco crying in his arms he was rendered to a comforting-only basis.
They stood on the threshold of the shower, Malfoy closer to the pouring water and Harry closer to the half opened curtain.
Harry hoped no one would come in and distract Malfoy from finally telling him. They were in luck and were not distracted; then again they were by now skipping their classes. They were bound to get into trouble for this.
"He—he raped me, Harry! I let him do it, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Malfoy wept.
Harry was dumbfounded, completely shocked into stillness. He couldn't have spoken even if he wanted to. ZABINI WHAT? How the hell could he do that to Malfoy? Sure Malfoy's not known for having the best morals…
Merlin's beard, what do I do? (Besides killing Zabini the next time I see him.)
Harry mulled it over in his mind but he knew one thing to do. "Mal—Draco, let me heal you," Harry insisted. He threaded a hand through Malfoy's wet hair but he only received wails: 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' repeatedly.
"What do you have to be sorry for?" Harry asked softly, leaning his chin gently on Malfoy's forehead. Harry felt a little embarrassed because he was comforting Malfoy, who was naked nonetheless, and he was still in his clothes. His clothes were considerably soggy and the shower was still running, he found it a little too odd for his liking.
But there wasn't much to be done about the situation except for healing Malfoy. "I—I—don't know," Malfoy whispered. "Many things- for being dirty, for being so worthless, for being unwanted."
Harry had a heart, and even if it hadn't been generous to Malfoy lately; he realized that he felt for Malfoy. Harry's heart broke in a way at hearing someone sound so, so broken.
"Don't be sorry for that. I don't..." Harry paused, because he was unsure if he was lying or being truthful and he didn't want to lie to Draco, not now. "I don't think you're worthless, Malfoy. And I'm not going to lie, you are dirty."
Malfoy bawled when Harry said that though.
Guess now's not the time for humour… "You need a shower to wash that dirt off your skin. You're not dirty in any other way. And you're not—you're not unwanted Draco," Harry reassured Draco.
Draco sniffled and stopped crying, lifting his head up from Harry's chest and drying his wet eyes.
Draco looked up at Harry with vulnerability exploding across his facial features. Harry understood that whatever conflict was going to be in his mind about Malfoy had to be stifled for now. "I'm not unwanted? The whole school seems to think so, and don't tell me you want me because you can't remember me!" Malfoy said hysterically.
Harry took the fact that Malfoy hadn't pushed him away as a good sign though.
Images flashed through Harry's mind and one hit him like taking a huge bite into a raw lime. Malfoy looked over at him mischievously, punching him gently in the stomach and Harry played along. He pretended to kick Malfoy down and as he got on top of Malfoy in front of his friends with an angry look plastered on his face, he whispered ever so softly, "Tonight at ten, Draco, this time if you're late, I promise not to use lubricant." Draco's response was a wink and another heated whisper, "Promise?"
"I remember you, Draco Malfoy, and from what I remember, I wanted you," Harry whispered. No matter how much it shocks me, I wanted you, and perhaps I still do. I have to admit that Zabini's got a death sentence because I feel attached to you.
Harry stared at Malfoy for another few seconds, before Malfoy wiped another set of tears from his eyes.
"But you don't want me now, do you?" Draco sniffed.
Yeah, I do. Harry was surprised at the small response in the back of his mind. He shook his head and leaned down, kissing the edge of Malfoy's mouth. Draco looked at him with wide eyes and his mouth dropped down ever wider.
Harry chuckled and started to turn Draco around in his arms. "You'll let me have a look, now won't you?" Harry asked. Draco nodded but couldn't manage to respond; much less think that he was indeed, one lucky fool. By now all Draco wanted to do was sleep, his slumping shoulders were the first indicator to his creeping sluggishness.
Harry dropped to his knees and felt heat rushing to his face as he got another 'juicy memory' of his tongue and Draco's bottom. "Malfoy, stand still, and if it hurts—Well just let me know. I doubt I'll be able to make it feel nice," Harry instructed as he grabbed his wand out of his robes.
Draco stiffened when he felt Harry part his bottom's globes but it was for the doubt that Harry would do something to further humiliate him rather then heal him. What if he was lying? What if he sticks his wand up my arse and does something worse then Zabini? What if they planned to do this to me together? With those thoughts in his musings, it was hard to trust Harry, even when he felt Harry's fingers run gently across his skin.
Harry grimaced when he saw the torn skin, and the blood that surrounded it. He cast a quick healing charm, his knowledge in healing wasn't vast, and Draco really should have a healer do it. But Harry understood that a healer was out of the question, so his attempt was the best Draco was going to receive.
Harry also opened up Draco's passage and cast another novice healing charm for good measure, hoping it was enough to spin the skin together and take care of any infections.
Finally Harry let go of Draco's arse and stood up, feeling as awkward as a tomato in an ice-cream sundae at how practically he had gone about healing Malfoy in that spot.
"Do you want me to heal your bruises…" Harry asked but trailed off when he saw Malfoy looking at him.
"You won't tell anyone will you?" Draco sounded desperate and Harry could understand why. Is it a good idea not to tell anyone about this? What if it happens--It's not going to fucking happen again! I'll make sure he's protected. Harry thought passionately. But he still questioned if it was a good idea to keep a rape a secret.
"Why do you want to keep it a secret?" Harry asked. Draco's eyes flared up and underlying the anger on his face was a distinct anxiety. Harry couldn't understand why he would keep it a secret, especially when someone knew about it and was trying to help of all things!
"Why? Why? Because if I tell someone it'll get out. I can't--I won't let anyone else--know how--how," Malfoy couldn't seem to go on. He was terrified, Harry could see it now, Draco really was terrified.
"I won't tell anyone Malfoy," Harry replied.
"Promise?"
"I promise. I'm going to heal some of those bruises and scrapes now," Harry told Malfoy, determined to do as he promised. But it wouldn't stop him from paying a visit to Zabini's wonderful abode sometime soon.
"O-Okay," Draco said shakily. He still didn't feel good, but talking to Harry did make him feel better. Although he wasn't quite ready to believe Harry Potter was on his side and trust him that he meant well.
Harry slowly traced every bruise on Draco's body with his wand. He could see the way Draco carried himself as he healed him became lighter. He wasn't fighting anymore just to stay up. When he came to Draco's arm he stared at the long scar, fingering it lightly. Harry looked up at Malfoy and asked, "Why?"
Among the other cuts, no longer red but rather scarred over, that one always caught his attention. "I don't know, I just—Need to," Draco replied, leaving out he hadn't cut himself while he'd been with Harry. Harry moved across the arm to the initials HP, tracing the letters.
"And this is?" Harry asked, staring at them. When had he carved these into his skin? Why did he? Harry wondered. Malfoy shifted under Harry's curious scrutiny.
"Because—I'm, I'm yours," Draco said. Harry raised his eyes again and Draco looked away, a blush flashing onto his cheeks. Harry leaned down and kissed the scar, before pushing Malfoy under the still running shower.
"Wash yourself off. I'll stay with you, then I'm going to ask someone to take you to the Room of Requirement and keep an eye on you," Harry said, suddenly deciding on an idea.
"What, why?" Draco asked, letting the water spray over him warmly, rubbing a bit of dirt off his arm. He'd forgotten how good a shower felt, honestly, and it hadn't occurred to him in a long time why he used to love taking baths and showers. To be able to preen and fuss in a bathroom had long ago lost its fascination for him.
"Because I don't want to leave you alone," Harry explained, "And I want to take care of something but I can't do it around you. Sorry." Harry sat down on the bench in the changing area and watched Draco as he stared at him.
I don't trust you, what if you leave me alone with someone who attacks me? I can't trust you! Draco thought rabidly. "I think I," Draco was saying when Harry interrupted him.
"I'm asking Hermione, Malfoy, there's nothing to worry about. You were worried, weren't you?" Harry asked. Draco only stared at him as if he were still untrustworthy.
"Why her?" Draco asked suspiciously.
"Because she's kind- even to you, she'll be nice, I'm betting. And before you ask, I won't tell her what happened, just that you're in trouble." Harry thought it was a good idea but Malfoy still looked concerned.
It's not going to work. She hates me like you hated me, Draco thought. "I'll be fine on my own, Harry," Draco said, thinking I hope at the same time.
Harry only shook his head, the stubborn git.
"It'll be fine, Malfoy. Trust me on this," Harry responded.
I can't Harry, I just can't. I don't even know if I want to trust you anymore.
Draco didn't respond. He only scrubbed his face under the water.
I'll get away from Granger easily, I'm sure of it. She wouldn't help me even if it was to help Harry. I don't deserve her help. Draco knew it was the truth; he wouldn't blame Granger if she put him out of his misery once Harry asked her to help him.
Down in charms class Ron was pestering Hermione about where Harry was. "Hermione he went to the library and we couldn't find him there!" Ron whispered as he tried to cast another wind charm.
"Ron, it probably has business to do with Voldemort, and he's with Dumbledore right now, and that is why we could not find him. Ronald, for heaven's sake please pay attention to where you're casting the charm!" Hermione ranted, trying to stop the wind Ron had conjured up from blowing her hair into a fuzz ball.
"You think?" Ron asked. He pointed his wand at Seamus while he was smiling at how amusing Hermione looked and cast the wind charm again. With his mind distracted the charm was a little more powerful then it was supposed to be.
"OI, RON!" Seamus yelled as the wind blew across his desk, knocked him backwards, and scattered papers in a whirlwind on his desk.
The class burst into fits of laughter as Professor Flitwick tried to calm the brewing storm down.
Hermione huffed and managed to cast Finite Incantarium, stopping the wind from further destroying her hair. "Oh, Ron," she sighed while his ears turned red. "Harry's fine, Ron, don't worry about him. There's more important things you need to worry about, obviously," she said with a smirk.
Ron glared at her. "Well, it's not my fault. He's been so distracted lately, and it's not Voldemort. You think it's his memory?" Ron asked her. Hermione frowned and nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment.
"I don't know. If it is, he's--He's going to be a bit distracted," Hermione replied.
"How distracted can you get with remembering a bit of the school year? It's not like he did anything spectacular," Ron replied.
"You'd be surprised, Ron," Hermione whispered.
"WEASLEY! Point your wand away from me!" someone shouted across the room and Ron's ears went red again. He put down his wand and sulked, while Hermione told him he could attempt the wind charm outside with her later.
Okay, that's it for now folks! Review if you wish to, it's encouraged as always. Just keep my stinky feet out of it.
A huge thanks to all of the reviewers for this story, I enjoy every one of them :)!