You Jump, I jump
Written by StrawberryGirl87
Hogwarts no longer feels like home, it is time to move on but Harry has nowhere else to go. Standing on the precipice of uncertainty he finds a helping hand from the most unlikely of people. Someone who is willing to stand by his side when things seem bleak.
Author note:
Wow ... okay, thank you for all the reviews. I know a lot of you are all screaming at the computer going WTF are you doing Harry and I hope that this chapter explains it a little better. You don't have to hate him. I'm just sorry that it's taking me a little longer to update as I have been busy the last few days. Anyway here is the next chapter and I'm off to work on the next one. Also anyone who is reading Obsession, I'm working on the next chapter for that as well.
Chapter Twenty
As it turned out the Daily Prophet had been particularly unkind in regards to Harry and how he had saved Draco and Narcissa Malfoy from Azkaban. There were so many rumours and speculation over what had happened and why, ninety per cent of it complete rubbish of course but Harry couldn't expect anything else of the Daily Prophet, though Which Wizard was now getting just as bad.
None of the wizarding publications believed that Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived-twice, saviour of the entire wizarding world and destroyer of the Dark Lord Voldemort could have legitimately and legally fallen in love with Draco Malfoy, the son of a deatheater. They all suspected foul play was involved somewhere along the lines. Just like Hermione they all suspected that the Malfoy's were using him for their own gain.
Suspicion was cast heavily upon Narcissa and Draco who were accused of bewitching Harry though it was all just speculation and rumour. There was no proof to the accusations and Harry knew the Ministry wouldn't act on it, at least not while they had Harry's assurance that he would be working for them within a month. As long as Harry kept up his end of the bargain the Malfoy's were safe from the grasp of the ministry.
Hermione had also been right when she'd said that the Bell family were not the only family to be displeased in regards to the Malfoy's being able to avoid Azkaban so easily. It was perhaps fortunate that so few people knew where Harry was living now, if they had known or had any inkling where he was staying then he would have received a lot more in the way of hate mail. All of it from disgruntled witches and wizards who were less than pleased about the most recent news story. Most of them were easily recognized as howlers but Harry swiftly burnt the lot, he knew better than to open any type of hate or fan mail. He had more important things occupying his mind.
Draco on the other hand, who had remained at his Welsh castle, grieving for the loss of Harry, hoping that he would be back before nightfall, had not been so thoughtful and foresighted as to simply burn the letters like Harry had. He hadn't expected to be sent anything hateful at all as he had not seen the papers that morning. He had no desire to read them and see the slanderous comments being printed about him and his family. He knew he had done wrong but the press always blew it out of proportion. He didn't have time for such nonsense. He had given up reading the Prophet after the fourth year when they had become obsessed with Harry Potter's entrance into the tri-wizard tournament.
It was his own bad luck that the first letter he had opened was filled with an odourless yellow powder that caused his skin to blister and boil the second it had come into contact with him. He had hissed at the sudden pain it caused, summoning his favourite house elf, Links, who swiftly came to tend to the sores the powder had created. He had been unwilling to burn everything even after this unfortunate incident however, just in case there was something from Harry.
He immediately destroyed the letters he knew for certain to be howlers. He carefully weeded out those from foreign countries, destroying them too. Links remained with him as he opened the last few. The loyal house elf had offered to do it for him but Draco had refused, he needed to know if Harry had sent him a letter. When he discovered that none were from his lover he discarded the hateful letters without reading them. Even at a brief glance he had seen they contained more profanities than not. He didn't want to know what people thought about him, he already knew that he was an awful person.
There had been nothing from Harry. This fact rang through his head. He wasn't even sure why he thought there might have been after he had taken him back to the Dursley's house only that morning. It had been a foolish hope to hear from him so soon but he had had that hope none the less. Perhaps he was a complete and utter fool but if he was then he was a fool in love.
He lay himself upon their bed, inhaling Harry's deep, musky scent that lingered on the sheets, he snuggled into them, inconsolable and in pain. He missed him, his broken and yet still perfect Harry who had left him when his friends had called for him. The only reassurance Draco had that Harry would ever return to him was a simple promise, sealed with a kiss and his backpack of prized possessions.
Harry hadn't dared to return to the Burrow so soon after Ron and he had argued over Draco and the court case against him. He couldn't face Ron yet or any of the Weasley's for that matter because he knew that his actions had hurt them all deeply. Instead after his talk to Hermione he had gone back to Grimmauld place. He needed to have time and space to think. The pain in his chest had not ebbed or faded, it felt as if he were missing a limb or another vital part of his body that he couldn't live without.
It was now late afternoon and Kreacher had been asked to intercept all his mail and destroy anything meant to cause harm. He hadn't even been separated from Draco for a whole day and he already felt awful. There were no feelings to describe the hollow emptiness in his chest.
Harry had taken up refuge in the smallest living room in the black family home, laying down on one of the old brown leather sofas, gazing up at the peeling, cracked ceiling, the mobile phone that was identical to Draco's being turned over and over in his fingers as his mind buzzed with thought. There was only one person occupying his thoughts as he wondered if leaving him had been the right thing to do.
He could forgive Draco, he already had, he had forgiven him the night that they had joined hands and left Hogwarts together. You jump, I jump had been what they had said and he had meant it. Those four words had been an unspoken agreement between them that they would tackle all the difficult circumstances together and Harry had been the one to back out and break that bond. If he had had any doubt when it came to trusting Draco then he would never have left with him.
They had both played a role in the war that they hadn't wanted to, one that was forced on to them. They had understood that about one another. There was a lot that they now understood about each other, things that hadn't been shared with anyone before they had had each other. Harry couldn't forget that nor could he forget the secrets that they had divulged to each other and the personal experiences that they had shared.
Neither of them had wanted their lives to take the path that they had but they hadn't had a choice. It had been what was expected of Harry after he had defeated the Dark Lord as a baby and fame had been forcefully thrust upon him. In Draco's case he had been coerced through the fear of what Voldemort might do to his family if he refused to do his bidding.
Harry thought of four year old Cassie, murdered to keep the older Malfoy's in line. Everything that they had done had been to Draco, to keep him alive and safe. Despite the uproar over his actions and the clear hostility against him now Harry knew that he had done the right thing. He didn't care what the rest of the wizarding thought of him, he never really had. That fact wasn't going to change now. He would even happily go and work at the ministry as a Auror or Hit wizard, whatever they wanted for however long they wanted him so long as Draco was safe from the clutches of Azkaban.
He may not have cared about the rest of the wizarding world but he did care about the Weasley's and Hermione and what they thought. They were his family, his only family. Molly had been such a mother figure to him that he hated the idea of hurting her when he didn't have to. He needed them all in his life just as much as he was realising that he needed Draco. He had to find a way to make them understand. He needed to find a way where he could be happy, where he could be with Draco in every way that he wanted to be while also keeping his family together and not hating him for the choice he made to be with Draco.
Flipping open his phone, Harry sent a quick text message to his lover and the Gryffindor could only hope that the blonde would remember how to read it after they had spent up to an hour going over how to use the phone together. Harry needed this small connection. He couldn't see him, not without his mind and body being taken over with lust and desire. He couldn't even trust himself to even speak to him via the phone or the floo out of fear that it would make his weak resolve not to go to him crumble. He thought that hearing the soft drawling voice would make him apperate straight to him just so that he could hold him in his arms. A text message was going to have to suffice.
Draco was startled when the mobile phone that he had stuffed in his jean pocket started to beep and vibrate at him. His heart leapt into his throat. Harry. It had to be, no one else would have the number. He flicked it open, his heart hammering painfully in his chest as he clicked the button Harry had told him opened his message inbox. He felt proud of himself that he had remembered at all.
'I still love you,' The message had read and it brought out a strangled cry from Draco's unwilling throat as tears flowed down his cheeks, dripping on to the bed sheets. He curled into himself, clutching the phone to his chest and wishing that Harry were with him. The heaving sobs now wracking his body that the short four word message had given him had come with one other feeling. Hope. There was hope that this nightmare might soon end and that they would be together again. It hadn't even been a day but Harry still loved him. That hadn't changed and that gave him infinite hope.
Draco knew that he didn't deserve Harry, not after everything that had transpired between them and all the things that he had done. He owed Harry too much and could offer him nothing in return. Draco may have been handsome and filthy rich but so was Harry. All he had to offer was his love and even that seemed to be entirely fucked up. He worried to distraction that what he felt just wouldn't be enough but he had nothing more to give. It scared him that loving Harry alone wouldn't be enough to keep him by his side, he had to get his friends to at least like him and trust him but he had no idea how he was going to go about doing this.