So this takes place in Harry's fourth year literally at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. I'm not the best Harry potter fan, I just watched the movies and love this couple. So if you're one of those serious, take everything very strictly readers, then you might want to read something else because others like you guys have said I miss a couple of things. Other than that, go easy on me and enjoy. RATED M FOR CH. 2 AND ON.
When Harry grabbed the Wizard's cup and the port-key sent him whirling through time, the last thing he expected to hear was the cheering. He remembered clinging to Cedric's body under him as trumpets played as if in some sort of victory against it. Harry realized he couldn't breathe and began to hyperventilate in between sobs that forced his way up his throat. Then there was a scream and only his cries were echoing across the yard. Someone tried to pull him off, but he refused, crying and screaming at the fear of Voldemort somehow appearing and attacking him again. He buried his head in Cedric's chest, unable to look away, unable to face the fact that he had gotten him killed. It wasn't until he saw Cedric's father that he seemed to lose control.
People were crying, staring, teachers running, trying to get order again. Dumbledore was by Amos's side, doing his best as the Headmaster to console him. And Harry was just standing there after someone had pulled him to his feet, watching it all rush around him. He was still crying, choking for air, and trying to understand. His knees were shaking and he knew that soon he'd collapse again.
The next thing Harry knew everyone was trying to talk to him. Teachers and students all around him, some angry, some crying, demanding an answer even as Harry sobbed silently. His head was pounding enough to make the blood rush loudly in his ears. Even if they were screaming or shaking him, he couldn't hear them. Professor Snape was there, trying to shove them all away from him, actually trying to help, Harry guessed.
Harry caught a blur of white, and then he was being dragged away. The person was beside him, holding his biceps and forcing him to stumble away. He couldn't see the person's face mainly because the tears were blinding him too bad. He saw a much older hand reach for them, probably a teacher, but whoever had him smacked them away and continued to force Harry out of the Stadium.
He suspected Ron only because the hands were firm on him, not anything like a girl's grip, and they were taller than him. But Harry couldn't think straight. He was still struggling to relearn how to breathe. The person had to actually hit him in the chest a few times and say, "Fricken breathe, Harry!"
Before he knew it, the grass of the field was gone, the screaming had faded, and it the air was still again. He could tell they were back at the school and not a single soul was around. Harry was trying to see again when the person who had him began to coax him up some steps. Harry obeyed not even sure where they were or who he was with. All he could see was that horrid face with power boiling over so bad he almost went mad. Facing the man who killed his parents, hearing Cedric's voice even after he just died, and even his parents as he almost died himself-
"Harry, you have to breathe!" The voice snapped him back to reality and he was stumbling through a door.
The cold just seem to hit him in a gust of wind and made the tears building up in his eyes fall. He could see past them now and saw a stone corridor. There were cobwebs in the corners, old pieces of wood and brick from some kind of construction, and a bell. The large bell that rings every day at noon for lunch and the end of classes. Through the open spaces Harry saw the roofs of the Gryffindor quarters and the school's halls.
They were in the Bell Tower?
Whoever had him helped him down into the cornered edge of the tower stuck between two open pillars in the walls. He was gasping like a fish out of water now and stared at his feet for the longest time. When the person let him go, he finally realized how cold he was and saw he was shaking so bad he could hardly see his hands clearly. He balled them into fists and even punched the stone ground to try and gain control. Still he trembled and no matter how hard he rubbed his face, the tears didn't stop. He couldn't breathe right even if he used a spell to help him do so.
Help him.
At last, he looked up to the shadow leaning against the corridor's pillar. The bleached, almost white hair glistened in the penetrating beams of moonlight while the dark gray eyes were cloaked in shadows. The Slytherin clothing seemed foreign at the moment along with the "Cedric Rules, Potter stinks" button on his chest. What was even queerer was the fact that his enemy had no smirk on his face or even a smug look in his eyes. He was looking wholesomely down at Harry, and he looked…tired, even.
"That doesn't help," Draco said flatly.
Harry took a second to realize what he was talking about. He removed his fist from the floor and examined his red knuckles for a second before giving up on it. He blinked away a few more tears and forced his body to find a breath to just speak. "D-Draco? You br-brou… Why-y-"
"Don't bother asking," the blonde interrupted, tearing his eyes away from him. "Your mind's not going to be able to grasp it at the moment. You can hardly think straight right now, correct? Just try to breathe."
The more he listened to Draco, the more he realized he was right. He barely knew what was going on besides the fact that he was still choking! He had to close his eyes and rest his head back on the stone corner to allow air to get to his lungs. Now that he calmed down somewhat, he felt like a mess; his face smothered with tears, his body bloody and covered in dirt. He used his left arm, the same one he used to punch the ground with, to try and clean his face up. When he could finally see once and for all, he wiped his glasses clean and found Draco once again. He hadn't moved, standing there, watching him.
Why? Why him? Why Draco?
"W-Why the Bell-l tow-wer?" Harry finally asked. He needed to say something-hear something in return to know he wasn't just dreaming again.
Draco didn't answer right away. "No one knows," he finally said. "Anyone can get into the dormitories and anywhere else is too exposed. You're found too easily. Here… I don't think anyone knows you can get up here." Draco slowly turned and leaned against the edge of the open wall, staring out into the blackness. Now that he stood in a beam of light, Harry could really see that he looked defeated. Somehow he knew that tonight held no games.
"There's no one to bother you up here," Draco continued. "No one to question you. No one to make you recall why you came up here in the first place. Just… nothing."
The way he talked, that cold, low tone of his told Harry that Draco was speaking from experience and not just knowledge. And somehow, he understood. "W-Well… That's-s not so go-good eith-ther… huh?"
To that, Draco didn't answer. Instead, he merely looked over his shoulder and asked, "Have you stopped crying?"
Harry still felt the heat in his eyes and it made him squint. He felt a little stubborn because Draco didn't ask it in a crude way to tease him; he had asked it honestly and to that Harry felt his pride flinch. "Sh-Shut up," he whispered and rubbed his eyes dry the best he could.
In the silence that followed, Harry felt the goose bumps form up his uniform from the wind. Since they were so high up, the wind was harsher and colder. He felt like ice, the cold going right down to his bone. He couldn't stop shaking and it made him want to punch the floor again.
"It doesn't stop," Draco informed him solemnly. "The shaking doesn't go away. Neither do the dreams. You won't be able to stop thinking about it. You'll wake up screaming night after night and you're always, always so bloody cold." When Draco strained the word, he seemed to shiver himself and rubbed his arms.
Harry tried to stop panting or shivering, maybe to even think clearly if he could. But before his eyes were the flashes of spells and the splatter of blood. He winced and closed his eyes. Soon he heard himself ask, "Why did you bring me here?"
"I told you. The last thing you need is to be around a bunch of screaming, crying muggles. And the Bell Tower-"
"Why did you bring me here?"
Draco paused for a long time before looking back to the brunette. Harry was staring clearly at him now, determined to get an answer from him and not think of anything else at the moment. "Because… I know how it feels to be so empty. The only thing you want is everything to just stop-time to stand still so you can just think! But when you do think, it's only ever about that. It's everywhere; in your dreams, in the books, in your bloody food. It doesn't leave you and all you want is… to just stop shaking…."
Harry watched Draco ball his hand into a fist and then hide it behind his back. He didn't question it nor say anything else because… he knew. He could feel Draco's words echoing inside him so well that it hurt. Even before the incident he was having nightmares and he could tell the shaking wasn't going to end no matter how bad he wanted it to. Even though he understood, to have it to be told to him like Draco knew everything about his future was…
"W-Why…. Why tell me?" He asked slowly.
Draco ran his fingers through his hair with his fist still behind his back. "Would you rather not know? Have it come as a 'surprise?' At least now you can think of a way to stop it."
Harry thought on it for a minute, then asked, "How do you fix it?"
Draco didn't answer at first. He looked from the ground, to Harry, to back out the window. He leaned against the pillar again to keep his arm hidden and let the shadows cover his face. "I don't."
Harry felt weak then. He didn't feel any strength in his body and the trembling was so pathetic. The fact that someone else couldn't find a resolve was disappointing enough to make him believe he didn't have a chance at such things. He even dropped his eyes and let the cold wrap around him. With the icy-touch the only thing he was feeling, the heat in his eyes felt astronomical. It burned, it stung, and it sucked.
He was zoning out, staring into the floor like some kind of zombie when he heard Draco say, "You're bleeding."
Harry finally noticed the burning pain in his arm and look to his right forearm. He hadn't moved it since he sat down and no wonder; the gash was gruesome and leaving a small pile of blood on the floor. Pain pierced his nerves now that he tried to move it and the heat was now unbearable. It only made him feel colder and weaker.
He flinched when a hand suddenly reached for it. His head snapped up to find Draco kneeling in front of him. His hand was finally out from behind his back with his wand now firmly in front of him. Harry jumped when Draco grabbed his wrist, wincing in pain. He watched the blonde meet his eyes and from such a distance it made them both pause. As such a vibrant, pure blue met a tainted, dark gray, Harry couldn't help but let the forming tears fall.
"I want it to stop," the brunette muttered. He wasn't even sure what it was he wanted stopped, but he needed it to end. He didn't want to feel this way anymore; he didn't want the cold or the heat or the pain or the trembling. He wanted to be able to lay down tonight calmly and wake up tomorrow as if he had only slept for ten minutes instead of ten hours without any nightmares.
Draco only stared. He searched his blue pools for a moment, looking for something even he was unsure of, and didn't say anything. Harry stared back, waiting for him to tell him what to do, when the pain suddenly shocked him awake. A jolt of something hard and tight ripped through his arm, making him jump hard enough to hit his head against the stones behind him. He quickly looked to the source of the pain, to the wand pointing at his arm, where only blood remained. He blinked and the wound was gone. He was scarred and bloody, but at least the pain was over.
As he stared at the bloody mess, he just took notice of Draco's leg practically on top of his own. He was so close, Harry could feel the other boy's shaking before him. There was a slight heat coming off him as well that battled the trembling and so Harry didn't push it away. He felt the trembling move closer until the whispering was right in his ear, saying, "Then find your resolve."
Harry understood, but his mind grew foggy. He couldn't fully take in his words when he couldn't believe what was going on. Here he was, alone with Draco Malfoy, crying and actually talking with him about something so arduous. He felt like he was in a dream, sitting there so close with the blonde practically on his lap, and he suddenly panicked. If he was dreaming, he needed something to distract him and fast if he didn't want to wake up screaming.
Just like that, he saw it all over again. The pain and the blood flashed back to his mind. Voldemort actually returning, killing Cedric Diggory, Wormtail cutting his arm, cutting his own hand off, fighting the man who killed his parents as they actually stood at his side-
"Stop, stop," the voice ordered in a hushed voice. There was a hand on his forearm where his wound used to be and Harry ripped it away. He was suddenly frightened at whoever was in front of him and they had to grab his arms to keep him from thrashing. When Harry saw Draco again, it was through blurry tears. The sight of his enemy's face looking so composed and forlorn made him stop. He couldn't see his gray eyes; there were too many shadows. Yet, he knew he was looking at him.
Harry was being held by his arms up at his chest to keep from thrashing. When the hand on his injured hand began to move, Harry flinched hard and Draco paused. He moved slowly, cautiously as if moving with a frightened animal. Eventually he let Draco release his arm and it disappeared into the darkness. He only found it again when the cold touch of a finger grazing his cheek scared him. He grabbed Draco's wrist out of surprise, but he didn't stop him. The gentle finger moved under his glasses, inch by inch, until he caught the tear and took it away.
His mind was completely fogged up now. He didn't even know what was what anymore. He didn't know what to do, what to say. He just wanted everything to stop, but Draco kept moving and that was somehow good enough to count as a distraction.
When he felt Draco move again, he responded to it, shifting just slightly so the Slytherin boy could move closer. Harry was looking downward when he realized what was happening. Yet, it didn't matter. He had stopped thinking a long time ago and it just seemed….so warm.
He barely tilted his head up where Draco's lips were there to meet his. They met softly for a second, just a gentle peck, then tighter. They kissed again, then harder until they could really feel the warmth behind it. That's when it seemed needed, that this new warm sensation was suddenly mandatory. In a rush, Draco grabbed Harry's face entirely and Harry grabbed the hand that was holding him against the wall.
They kissed again and again, trying to fully get that feeling that was lingering just past their limits. It felt warmly sweet and sweetly addictive, like they couldn't live without it, and with each kiss only came a tiny sample. So they kissed harder, opened their mouths and kissed deeper, trying desperately to reach that feeling fully.
Then they were in a race to get it. Draco sat up tall on his knees, pulling Harry up with him in an attempt to get it. Harry felt Draco's hands on him, groping around as if trying to find it, but he couldn't counter it. He still felt so weak to the point where he was just clinging onto Draco's robes, and he was getting lost in the bitter-sweet taste of the Slytherin boy as they kissed-like fire and something else unknown fused together. Draco moved and they got tangled. Harry felt himself twist and then the sensation was falling away from him. When he followed it, he found himself mounted on Draco's lap with Draco sitting where he used to be in the corner.
Their lips slipped apart for a second and they both grasped at each other to get it back. They were touching each other everywhere, chest, hair, even underneath clothes. Even when the wind blew against them, somehow their heat blocked it out. They were still shaking and they could both feel it, but it felt more like adrenaline than fear, and they used it to reconnect their lips back into the messy kisses.
As Harry hovered over the blonde, clinging to his neck and kissing him harder than he ever thought possible, he finally noticed the clicking of his glasses falling over her his face. Soon Draco had to shove him back, rip the glasses away, then yank him back. Draco even shoved Harry's mouth open wider where his tongue invaded his mouth quickly. Harry winced when the kiss turned even messier. Not from dislike-Merlin, no, anything but that-but from the taste. Now with each kiss, they got a larger portion of the mystery feeling lingering just out of reach.
So they kissed and kissed and kissed. They kissed until their lips were tingling with numbness. They kissed until they couldn't breathe anymore. They kissed until all the thoughts that provoked the cold and the shaking were blocked by Merlin-knows what. They just held each other tight together, afraid to let go, and continued to kiss until it was all they needed to breathe-to live.
It felt so warm and wonderful to be so close to something so sweet. Whatever it was, whatever they were feeling, it was pleasant, alleviating… It was their resolve. And so they kissed deeper, tongues fighting and sucking to get closer to it. It wasn't wild, erotic, or disorderly. No, it was just rushed and passionate, something beautiful that had blossomed without them noticing. Yet, they just kissed more. They grabbed at each other, turned their heads, ignored the fact that they needed a break for air, and just kissed more until-
DONG!
Something so loud it made their hearts jump slapped at them like a clap of thunder. The bell moving behind them rang so deeply that it startled even the owls flying off in the distance. It throbbed in their ears past the point of pain and even caused Harry to fall off of Draco's lap. It didn't last long and both boys sat there panting and staring even after it stopped.
It was more than just a wake up call. It seemed to bring both boys back to reality. They both realized they weren't dreaming, they weren't screaming, and the coldness had faded. The stillness in the air told them both that, even if it was just for the time being, that they were okay.
Harry eventually noticed that everything was blurry and he sat up fully, looking for his glasses. He finally found them resting by Draco. So, without feeling embarrassed or even confused, he moved over beside him, put his glasses back on, and sat against the wall next to him. Neither boy spoke for a while, they both just sat there until they were no longer panting. They sat there until time moved again and the cold returned, but even then neither boy trembled. They just sat there, not thinking, not talking, barely breathing. It was as if they were two completely different people, pulled out of their bodies to sit there and watch each other like it was some sort of movie. It wasn't until the silence was broken that both boys returned to themselves.
"…ry…. arry…. Harry!" There were multiple voices, a concerned feminine one and a masculine one that had just hit puberty. It started off faint, but slowly echoed closer until they were passing by the Bell Tower, trying to find him.
Slowly, Draco looked to the brunette and said quietly "You can go now." Harry sat still in his pause, then gently met his gaze. "You're all right now. Just go to sleep… and keep some water nearby."
Harry didn't question it. He was probably right anyway. His mind was too far gone to think on it at all. All he knew was that he no longer felt cold, the shaking was fading, and the pain was…. It wasn't gone. He knew it was still there, but for now it was….suppressed. He was numb. A weird feeling, to no longer have any emotions or any sensations, but oh, how good it felt to finally have it stopped.
So Harry nodded and Draco looked away from him. "You, too…." He mumbled and watched the blonde smile.
Without another word, Harry got up and made it past the ever so slightly moving bell. He found his way out of the Bell Tower and returned to his friends. He knew they were going to ask questions. He knew he was going to have nightmares and he knew he was going to wake up screaming. But somehow he knew he could fall asleep tonight because he found his resolve.
And with that, he would survive at least for tonight.
Was it any good? Please review and let me know. I know I mess up a lot so advice would be good if I'm spelling something wrong or wrote something confusing. I'm trying this story out because it's sad and beautiful. Tell me what you think, please and thank you. Till my next update.