AN: Super short chapter…sorry everyone. We're coming into the home stretch now, so there are only a few chapters left. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and to those who favorited this story. Your feedback has been amazing and you all have made my day every day for the last two weeks. Thank you for so much for taking the time to read.

And…on with the story…

Chapter Seventeen

- May 8th -

When he finally woke again, it was to a faint thumping in his temples and numerous aches and pains throughout his entire body. He groaned softly and rolled onto his side where he froze as he felt a cool hand gently stroking at his sweaty, sleep matted hair.

"Don't touch me, I'm gross," he muttered, turning his face into a pillow.

Harry chuckled and carded his fingers through tangles of damp blond. "You are the complete opposite of gross and you know it," he reassured him in a quiet voice. "Come on now, it's time to get up. It's already well past noon and I made you some tea."

"My whole body hurts." Draco breathed in deeply, the faint scent of Harry that lingered on the pillows doing more to ease the aches in his tired body than anything else he could think of.

"Here." Harry gently caressed the back of his neck. "Sit up and take these."

Draco sighed and forced himself to turn over and look up at his lover. He couldn't help the smile that blossomed on his face as he took in Harry's groggy, disheveled appearance. Thick black hair, which was messy on the best of days, was sticking straight up on the left, yet was matted flat against his head on the right, the result of falling asleep with still wet hair. Vibrant green eyes sparkled with unbridled happiness despite the tired redness and slight shadow of too little sleep that surrounded them. He was wearing a wrinkled pair of green and white striped pajama bottoms that hung low on his narrow hips and Draco's appreciative gaze immediately focused on the dark line of hair that trailed down his stomach.

Harry was completely oblivious to Draco's wandering eyes as he sat down beside him and gently nudged him. "Sit up." He held out a hand which held three small white tablets.

With a great, heaving sigh, Draco finally pushed himself up into a sitting position and took the proffered pills. "Thank you," he said softly before tossing them into his mouth and taking the glass of water that was suddenly held in front of his face. He drank down the entire glass then promptly threw himself down onto his back and sighed again as he sank deep into overstuffed pillows.

Harry stretched out beside him and propped himself up on an elbow. He brushed the hair from where it clung to Draco's forehead then leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Good morning," he whispered as his lips trailed down to his cheek.

"Hm," Draco hummed. He let his eyes fall shut and turned his face to meet Harry's lips in a soft, lingering kiss. "Morning." He sighed in contentment as Harry's fingers wandered aimlessly over his chest and stomach, his arms and his neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps as they roamed.

"Are you feeling sick?" Harry asked him. He leaned over and kissed Draco's shoulder then rubbed his nose against his sleep warmed skin.

"No, not sick," Draco said. "Just tired and sore."

"Hm." Harry kissed his cheek again. "Too much drinking, yelling and fucking?"

Draco laughed and reached out blindly, trying to locate Harry's hand. He had to open his eyes to find it, but as soon as he felt those cool, calloused fingers against his, his silver eyes fell shut again and he snuggled closer to the brunet. "Something like that," he agreed.

Harry laughed softly. He wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders and they lay there together in silence for quite a while, just enjoying each others presence.

Draco shifted restlessly until he found a comfortable spot with his head on Harry's chest. He felt himself being lulled to sleep by the strong, steady beat of his lover's heart, but jerked awake when Harry suddenly spoke.

"What's your earliest memory?"

The blond raised his weary head to look at him. Harry was chewing on his lower lip and gazing back at him hesitantly, looking as if he regretted voicing his question. Draco gave him a reassuring smile and reached out his hand, brushing his thumb lightly over the reddened skin of his mouth, nudging the teeth away before they could do any further damage. "I was probably about four," he finally answered. He traced slow circles over the smaller man's abdomen, hoping to sooth away the sudden tension in his body. "I had had a bad dream and snuck into my parent's room. My mother woke before I even touched her and gently hushed me, and then she picked me up and took me downstairs to her sitting room. She just held me in her arms and we stared out the window at the rain and she sang to me."

Harry took in a shaky breath. "What did she sing?"

"I don't really remember. It's all a bit fuzzy, you know?"

Harry gave no response, but his fingers clenched around Draco's. "I don't remember my mother."

A dull, sympathetic ache throbbed in Draco's chest as he looked up into brilliant green eyes. He swallowed heavily and brought Harry's hand to his mouth. "I'm sorry, love." He brushed his lips over his knuckles before turning the hand in his and placing a soft kiss on his wrist. "What do you remember? What's your first memory?"

Harry was silent for a long time, his eyes watching Draco's mouth as it continued to glide over his skin. "I was twelve the first time I can remember being hugged," he eventually told him, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. "When I met Ron, we were only eleven and neither of us had many friends. We sat next to each other in class and we just clicked. One day he asked if I wanted to come over that weekend. No one had ever asked me to come over before and I wanted to go so badly that I immediately agreed, not even considering what my aunt and uncle would say about it."

Draco draped his arm across Harry's middle and rested his head on his shoulder. "Go on," he gently prodded, knowing that Harry needed to get this off his chest.

"I…" Harry took a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing it slowly. "I knew they would say no, because they always said no to anything that would make me happy." He frowned for a moment until Draco's hand once again rose and stroked at the tight line of his lips. He kissed the blond's fingers and sighed softly. "I didn't tell them about the invite. I got directions and an address from Ron and decided that I would wake up really early on Saturday morning and walk over there myself. It was about twelve miles away, but I was determined that I could do it."

"Ron didn't let you walk all that way alone, did he?" Draco asked, surprise and a bit of anger lacing his tone.

Harry quickly shook his head. "No. No, he didn't know. I told him that my uncle had somewhere important to be and that he had dropped me off at the end of their drive. I got there a bit after ten that morning. I left my house a little before seven. I was dead tired by the time I got there, but I was so happy to be with a friend, with someone who actually liked me, that I didn't let it show." He breathed deeply again, then turned his face into Draco's hair. "Then I met the Weasleys."

Draco pulled Harry closer and kissed his forehead. "And…?"

"And…they just…they loved each other so fucking much. I hadn't expected that. I mean…I didn't really know that families were supposed to love each other like that…that they were supposed to be happy just spending time together. I'm sure you can imagine my confusion."

Not at all, actually. And I'm so sorry for that.

"I was always told that I was a burden and a troublesome child and how I would be lucky if anyone ever loved me, because they certainly didn't." Harry's voice was dripping with bitterness, his agitation apparent by the tension in his body and the grinding of his teeth.

Draco saw red. He breathed heavily through his nose as he tried to keep himself in check so Harry could finish his story.

Harry didn't seem to notice Draco's silent distress. "But…the Weasleys were..." He shrugged and his hand clenched against a pale shoulder. "When I was leaving, his mum just wrapped me up in her arms and I wasn't sure what to do. I felt suffocated and protected and warm and dizzy and I had never felt anything like it before and…"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his hand lightly over Harry's chest, hoping it would calm him.

Harry's hand clenched and unclenched at his side before he recognized what he was doing and brought it to rest on his chest, close to Draco's hand. "God…I cried so hard when I got home. I just didn't know what to do with all the feelings they made me feel. It was like…before that day, I could ignore the fact that nobody loved me because I couldn't remember it being any other way. I just didn't understand how I could suddenly miss something that until that day I had been unaware of, you know?"

Unsure of what to say, or even if he should speak at all, Draco just held him closer and scooted himself up enough that he could press his face into Harry's neck. He kissed him lightly then settled into place.

"I continued to visit him every Saturday for a couple of months. I would leave the house early in the morning and it would take me what felt like forever to walk over there, but I don't think I can put into words how much it was worth it. Anything was better than being in that bloody house with my so called family. And as long as I got my chores done, they didn't care what I did. One night I didn't even get home until one in the morning and they never even noticed that I was missing. I was only twelve years old and they had no idea that I was gone all night." He fell silent and the nervous fingers that had been tracing abstract patterns on Draco's back suddenly dropped away. "They had locked up the house and gone to bed without even checking my room first." He snorted and it was a harsh, bitter sound. "Or maybe they did check and just didn't care," he whispered. "I spent the night on the front porch. Thank God it was only early fall and it didn't get too cold out. I hid in the bushes when I saw the lights come on inside and when my uncle came out to get the paper, I just snuck right inside and they never knew."

They were both silent for a few moments and Draco was beginning to think that Harry had fallen asleep. He cleared his throat softly and turned his face to nuzzle against his shoulder.

The actions seemed to jolt Harry back to awareness and he continued his story. "I figured since they didn't notice that I had been missing for an entire night that I would just stay over the following weekend. I started spending every Saturday at Ron's. I would wake up at four in the morning to walk home and as long as I was back at the house before they woke up for breakfast, everything was fine. That continued for about two months."

"They caught you?" Draco whispered after the silent tension had gone on too long.

Harry nodded and turned his face into Draco's hair. "That was the first time my uncle hit me. I had slept in until almost seven so it was well after nine by time I got home and that was with running half the way. He had never hit me before, besides the usual cuff to the back of the head, so when it happened, I was…I don't know. I guess I was terrified. He didn't mark me or beat me or anything. He just gave me a couple of hard slaps across the face, just enough to split my lip and make my nose bleed. Then he dragged me up the stairs by my hair and shoved me to the floor in my room. I…" He turned his head away to look out at the grey, dreary sky. "For some reason it doesn't sound as bad when I say it out loud as it seems in my head."

Draco licked his too dry lips and cleared his throat. "Abuse is abuse, Harry. And you were just a little kid. You didn't deserve that."

"It wasn't really abuse," Harry protested weakly. "It was mostly just neglect."

Draco clenched his teeth against his mounting anger. How dare he defend those that hurt him so badly? "Did he ever hit you again?"

Harry hesitated before nodding. "I had just turned fourteen and he found a…magazine…I had stolen it from a store when I first realized that I liked boys." He blushed heavily as he continued to stare out the window. "He slapped me and called me a deviant and a faggot." He swallowed convulsively and took a deep, shaky breath. "He said that he couldn't believe that he had allowed his wife to talk him into taking in such a freak as me. Said he was afraid for me to be around my cousin and that I couldn't be trusted to have access to their rooms at night in fear of what I might do to them. He put locks on my bedroom door. I spent the rest of that summer locked in my room. They let me out for an hour in the morning to do my chores and a few times a day to use the bathroom. Sometimes they forgot to feed me." He flinched when Draco's hold on him became a bit too tight. "But it wasn't all that bad being left alone. Dudley couldn't torment me when I was in there and I didn't have to listen to my aunt yell. I mostly just sat in my room and daydreamed about the places I would go when I was finally free and how I would never talk to them again or have to see them."

Draco's aching heart pounded an erratic rhythm in his chest. He didn't think it was really helping, but he couldn't keep his hands from touching Harry. They stroked his chest and his neck and his cheek… anywhere they could reach as they instinctively tried to comfort him and make him forget all the hurtful things he had experienced. He hated the dead sound of Harry's voice and the vacant look in his eyes and the way he seemed to tense when Draco's hands roamed over his body, but he couldn't bring himself to just lay there and do nothing.

"Luckily, Sirius found me not too long after." Harry gently, yet insistently nudged at Draco until he could slide out from underneath him. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and reached for the cigarettes on the nightstand.

Draco tried to ignore the flash of hurt that soared through him when Harry pulled away. He wrapped his naked body in the thin sheet, attempting to stave off the cold that had overcome him and quietly cleared his throat. "You do know that everything that happened with them wasn't your fault, yeah?"

Harry was silent as he took a long hit off his cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs for what seemed like hours before exhaling slowly. He stood and went to the window, staring out at the lashing rain and the flashes of lightning and the swaying branches. "Until I was eleven, my bedroom was the cupboard on the ground floor, under the stairs."

Harry had spoken so softly that for a moment, Draco was absolutely positive that he must have heard him wrong. Surely, no one would make a child sleep in a fucking cupboard? He must be remembering it wrong. That can't be true.

But the clenching in his gut told him that he had not misheard anything, as much as he might wish that he had. He struggled to control his breathing as he stared at Harry's tense back, watching his muscles twitching as he fought to keep the true depth of his emotions hidden. When Draco finally realized that his mouth was opening and closing, making an effort to speak, but that he had no idea what to say, he snapped it shut with an audible click.

Harry leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the dewy glass and sighed heavily. "I'm not sure if it's my first memory or not, but I had to have been about four or five. I remember sitting in that cupboard and sobbing. I was hungry and cold and I had dreamt about my mother and I was so sad and… they just left me there, completely alone. I was always so fucking alone."

Draco tried to swallow, but his throat was completely dry and there was a lump forming that threatened to choke him. "Harry…" he whispered, but it was all he managed to say. What the fuck do I say to something like that? What am I supposed to do?

"You don't have to say anything," Harry said with a soft, bitter laugh. "Ron and Hermione didn't know what to say when I told them either. It's alright. I just…I thought you might still like to know."

Actually, I'm quite sorry that I ever asked. I'm sorry I made you relive it just to ease my ridiculous curiosity.

Harry eventually turned and leaned back against the windowsill. "I know that you never understood my relationship with Oliver or why I continued to go back to him. To tell you the truth, I didn't really understand it myself until Sirius forced me into therapy." He went to the nightstand and lit another cigarette, but didn't sit. He slowly paced the short distance from the window to the bed, occasionally glancing at Draco's still form before returning his attention to the floor.

Draco wanted to go to him, to comfort him, but he couldn't seem to make his body move. Only fifteen minutes earlier he had been awakened by soft kisses and touches and a general sense of unbelievable happiness and now it was as if he were looking at a different person. Selfishly, he wanted the other Harry back. But logically, he knew these things needed to be said if he was ever going to understand where Harry was coming from.

"I met Oliver when I was twenty one. He was my first and only lover for three years…until I met you." Harry stopped pacing and looked at Draco. "I thought you were some arrogant, rich snob when I met you in the café, but you changed my mind so quickly. I had never wanted anyone like that and it scared the living shit out of me."

Draco managed a small smile, but didn't say a word.

"You were so perfect that night. But Oliver…" Harry's face grew tense again and he turned away. "Oliver told me that he loved me the first night that we were together. Hearing those words from someone who wasn't Sirius or Ron or Hermione…I can't explain what it did to me. I wanted so badly to believe him. I needed to believe him. And after hearing it for so long, I truly did begin to believe it. He and I were broken up at the time I met you, but the unbearable guilt of having wanted you and letting you be inside of me…it ate at me. I had never let him do that and I just kept thinking how he said that he loved me and how he cried when I had broken up with him and how devastated he would have been if he had known that I was with you. It wasn't fair that I had given myself to a stranger instead of someone who loved me as much as he said he loved me. I knew that I didn't love him in return, but I thought, maybe if we tried again, maybe he wouldn't hurt me and I could finally let myself fall in love with him. As soon as I went back, I regretted leaving you, but he just smiled at me and told me that he would never stop loving me and I just…I couldn't walk away from that. I needed it so much and even if they weren't true, I needed his words more anything. I know I'm not making a whole lot of sense, but those words were so important to me, even if they were all lies."

Draco cleared his dry throat. "I don't think he lied to you," he said softly, though he couldn't bring himself to look at Harry. "I believe that he loved you, he was just really messed up, Harry. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know that now. At least, I think I do." Harry finally sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out for Draco's hand.

Draco didn't hesitate in moving closer. He was feeling a bit desperate and alone, but as soon as he had Harry's hand in his and their legs were close enough to touch, the feeling left him.

"I never stopped thinking about you. Every single day that I was with him, I wondered what you were doing or who you were with or if you were happy. It made me a little crazy. I had no idea what your name was or how to find you, so I tried to forget it. But I had dreams at night of a happier life that included you. Even when I started to forget the sound of your voice and the smell of your hair, I never forgot your eyes or your smile." He smiled softly as he reached out to tuck a few loose strands behind Draco's ear. "Oliver and I fought a lot more then. It wasn't so easy to forgive him when he hit me and his temper was even shorter than it had been to begin with. In April, just a month after I met you, he pushed me down the stairs."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Harry pressed his finger to his lips to quiet him.

"I know that I denied it," Harry said softly. "But I can accept now that what he tried to convince me was an accident, wasn't. None of it was an accident." He removed his finger from Draco's lips and took his hand again. "I haven't even admitted it to Ron and Hermione, but I know now that the things he did to me were all intentional."

A sad sigh escaped Draco's lips as he squeezed Harry's hand. "I'm sorry that you had to live through all of that." He looked down at their joined hands, unsure of what else to say.

Harry shrugged, trying to brush off the comment. "And I'm sorry about all the shit I put you through."

"Harry," Draco said softly, clutching his hand. "I understand. You didn't – "

Harry cut him off with a quick kiss. "I couldn't accept that it would be different with you." He kissed Draco when he tried once again to speak. "I couldn't accept that someone as good as you would want anything to do with me other than sex." A heavy blush stained Harry's cheeks. "I couldn't allow myself to get my hopes up or I would have realized how miserable I was with him. It was easier to go home to him and try to forget you and just pretend that he loved me and we were happy."

Draco licked his too dry lips and nodded. "I can understand that, I guess." He rubbed his thumb over Harry's knuckles and squeezed his hand again.

"Things were getting better," Harry eventually continued. "The trip with Sirius did a lot to heal me and my relationship with him. It seems he and I had been fighting nonstop since Oliver came into the picture. He always recognized that something wasn't right there, but I wouldn't listen. I was stubborn and I was convinced I knew better than him."

"We all go through phases like that," Draco reassured him.

Harry shook his head. "I should have listened to him. I just didn't want him to be right."

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty." Draco gave a weak attempt at a smile.

Harry leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Draco's temple before abruptly letting go of his hand and returning to his spot in front of the window. When he finally spoke again, his voice was so low that Draco had to lean forward to hear it clearly. "Sirius and I had a horrible fight the night that he died. He was worried about me, and rightly so and I just ended up being a complete and utter prat to him. We were eating dinner and I hadn't said a word and somehow complete silence turned into me screaming and throwing things while he sat there silently, just watching me act like a child having a tantrum. I told him…" Harry shifted and swallowed hard. "I told him that he had no right to be worried and that he should stop prying into my life and get a fucking life of his own. I said that he wasn't my father and never could be and that he was never the adult that I needed him to be and he just fucking sat there and took it."

"He loved you, Harry." Draco knew the words weren't enough, but it was all he could bring himself to say.

Harry covered his eyes with a shaking hand and leaned heavily against the windowsill. "I didn't mean any of it and I don't even remember what he said that made me so angry, but I can't take it back now. I can't tell him that I'm sorry and that I love him and that he was more of a father than I ever hoped for." He swiped angrily at the tears on his cheeks and took a deep, stuttering breath. "I stormed out of the room without letting him say another word. About two in the morning, I decided to come downstairs to get something to drink and he was just…lying there. On the floor. He was already cold and I just sat down next to him and stared at him like a fucking idiot. All I could think about was that I was alone again. It was almost morning when I finally forced myself to call Hermione."

Draco ran a trembling hand through his tangled hair and over his face before sighing heavily and climbing to his feet. He approached Harry slowly, unsure of how he would react, and rested his hand gently against his back, between his shoulder blades. When he wasn't shrugged away, he stepped closer and slipped his arms around his waist. "You're not alone now," he whispered as he brushed his lips over the brunet's neck.

Harry exhaled a shaky breath and leaned back into him. "I know." He rested his hands over Draco's and closed his eyes.

Draco kissed his neck and shoulder. "Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me."

Harry turned himself around and buried his face against Draco's neck.

When Draco felt the splash of tears on his skin and heard the soft sniffles that came from the face pressed against him, he just held on tighter and didn't say a word.

*.*.*.*

TBC…

AN: Please review. And thank you for reading.