A/N: So, I lied. It's been a while since I've last updated. I wanted to get this out by Christmas, I really did, but my sister was only here for nine days, and then I needed to work on my loads of homework. And, overall, it was just a mess. This chapter, however, is going up unedited. I finished it yesterday, but I was tired, and I didn't want to deal with uploading. So, you can get it today! I hope you like it. I really do. But even if you don't, leave a review, will you? :] I love all of you guys so much. Thank you for sticking through with me, even when I took giant breaks or bitchily asked you for _ reviews in order to continue. Every review I got, and I got so many of them warmed me, even when they weren't all positive (because I appreciated the honesty). Really, you don't know how much it means to me (*insert cheesy music here*?) In any case here it is: chapter twenty of Truth or Dare.
"Draco!" Oh, thank God. He was alright. I reached out blindly, trying to find his voice. The smoke and debris was still settling and obscured him from view. Or anyone for that matter. My hand grasped his, and I pulled him close. My hand still shook, as did his. This had been a close call. My heart thudded against my chest and my breaths were uneven. There was a sputtering cough.
"You two are alright, then?" It was Weasley. I was starting to see Harry's outline. Apparently the air was clearing up.
"Yeah, we're fine," Harry said.
"Hermione?" Weasley asked. Another cough before she answered.
"Here." In fact, I was starting to see others as well. The flaming ginger hair came into sight. Weasley was sprawled on the ground. I glanced over at Harry to see he had a cut on his face. Something must have flown and hit him.
"Blaise?" There was no response. At first. A groan. Then a grumble.
"Fuck. I'm – I'm fine." Although it was fairly foggy, the smoke had seemed to clear. "Where's Dean?" I was just about to say I didn't know when the smoke seemed to lift and disappear. Behind Blaise, sprawled out on the ground was Thomas, sightless and mouth open, as if he wanted to say something. Oh, Gods. Gods, fuck, it couldn't be. Not Thomas. I felt my eyes start to burn, and my throat closed. I could barely breathe, and I gripped Harry. Blaise's eyes followed mine, and his back tensed.
"Blaise, I'm so sor–" Granger tried to say something, but Blaise cut her off.
"Shut up." He turned his attention toward Thomas. "Dean, c'mon, it isn't funny. Wake up." He leaned down over Thomas, grabbing his hands. "C'mon, Dean, please. Please just get up." I could hear his voice crack, and his body shook. "No. No. No! Dean, stop it! You're not – You can't be –" Blaise leaned down, clutching Dean's shoulders and howled.
"Oh, Gods." Harry turned and looked at me, eyes blurry, and buried his head into my shoulder. I took a stumbling step back as I began pulling myself up, and blinked rapidly, trying to avoid the tears.
"Dean." Blaise's voice was cracked, hollow. It was as if he was only half-there. The tears were inevitable. I clutched Harry, and sobbed. Thomas had been laughing only minutes ago. How could this even be possible? A lingering smile was still visible on his face.
"Somebody tell me what's happened?" Dumbledore seemed to appear out of nowhere, and his face looked unusually solemn. There was no faint trace of a twinkle in his eyes, and he glanced over at McGonagall with concern. "Oh my…" His voice trailed off as he laid eyes on Thomas.
"Do something!" Blaise shouted, looking over at him. Tears continuously streamed down his face. "Fix him. You have to." Dumbledore stood with his mouth open – practically speechless.
"I – This isn't something I can fix, Mr Zabini."
"But you have to. If you don't, who will? Please. Please." He was falling apart at the seams, every part of him deflated until he was nothing – a vulnerable, pitiful, sobbing mess.
I choked back a sob, and looked over at Weasley and Granger, both with red, puffy eyes, gulping for air, horrified. Granger leaned over, wrapping her arms around Weasley, desperate for consolation.
"I can't." Dumbledore seemed to be close to tears himself. He slowly tore his eyes away from the scene and walked towards McGonagall. "Rennervate." The spell didn't work. McGonagall continued to lie there, still, and he placed his fingers quickly to her neck. "There's a pulse. What happened to her?" No one responded. Dumbledore straightened up, and his eyes hardened slightly. "Someone please tell me what happened here."
"She came, trying to get us to go back to Hogwarts, but we weren't sure what was going on." It was Granger her spoke, through tears. "T- Then these two Death Eaters came, well, one first, and we were trying to fight them, but it was just all of a sudden. And the other one Apparated here and knocked Professor McGonagall out." She was babbling, her sentences barely comprehensible through her sobs. Weasley held on tightly to her. "I don't even know who it was!"
"Bellatrix," I muttered, shivering. My aunt was notorious for her madness. She had even driven Longbottom's parents insane with the Cruciatus from what I'd heard.
"I see." We have to get her to a St. Mungo's right away. I'll talk with you later. Get back to Hogwarts immediately. There might be another attack." With that, he carefully levitated McGonagall beside him, grasped her limp hand, and Disapparated.
At this precise moment, Blaise's sobbing became vocal again. "I can't just leave him here. Dean, please." We stood silently. No words seemed fit for the situation, and watched, helpless, crying. Blaise yelped and wept, clutching Thomas closer to him, shaking him violently. A crowbar dug into my chest, ripping me apart, forcing me to splinter and crack.
"Please, no," I moaned quietly to Harry. "Dean…" It was probably the first time I'd ever said his first name, but somehow it had come out like that. It felt wrong and almost disrespectful to call him by his last name now that he was… I clenched my eyes shut and my fingers dug into Harry's arm.
"We're –" Granger began shakily. Her eyes were read and puffy, and she quickly brushed a few tears off with his sleeve before continuing again. "We need to go back to Hogwarts quickly before it happens to anyone else." None of us moved.
"Are you suggesting we just leave him here? Alone?" Blaise asked again. His voice was harsh, and he grabbed Dean's limp hand. When we all began to shuffle, afraid, not sure what we should do, he still hung there, holding onto Dean for dear life, as if they were inseparable by penalty of death.
"Blaise, you have to get up," I said. He pretended that he didn't hear me and just stared at Dean's face as if he did it long enough, Dean would miraculously come to life again.
"No." His voice was almost silent, but stubborn.
"Blaise, you have to. There's no choice. What if the Death Eaters come again?"
"Let them! I don't care." My mouth opened and closed. Who was I to force him? I knew that I had been just as desperate and frozen when I had learned that Harry was in St. Mungo's. And I had even gotten another chance with Harry.
"Let's go get Madam Rosmerta," Granger mumbled, and she quickly began to sprint away. I knew she couldn't handle it anymore; I was even beginning to feel my chest constrict. I had to get away from this. Dean was…
Oh Gods.
I followed her, and as the door opened, I leaned my head into the wooden walls. Something clawed at the inside of my chest, and it felt as if I had swallowed something far too big. And then I screamed. My throat felt raw, and it threatened to catch in my throat, but I screamed anyway. Now of all times – my fucking father. I would kill him. If I ever got the chance. I clawed at the walls, feeling the wood chip into my skin, but I didn't care.
"Dear Lord, what's going on?" Madam Rosmerta appeared, her wand held out cautiously.
"It's – Dumbledore told us to go back to Hogwarts, but Zabini re –" She broke off, unable to continue speaking as if she were detached. "They killed Dean." Her red eyes swam again, and her shoulders slumped forward.
"Oh my…" Madam Rosmerta's face drained of all colour, and she simply stood there.
"I was wondering if we co – could bring his body in here." Her voice trembled and I looked away, burying my face in the wood again. "Please, Dumbledore w-wanted us to go back to Hogwarts, but I don't think that's possible."
"I – well, yes, of course." Granger's footsteps echoed behind me, and the door swung open. As they clicked shut, Madam Rosmerta spoke again. "Who was it?"
"My father. It's always my fucking father." I looked down to see that I had chipped off part of my nails and that my hands were bleeding in several spots. The wood was stained with a blossoming cherry colour. There was a sharp intake of breath, but Madam Rosmerta said nothing. Then, a clutter as the door slammed open.
"Let go of me, Weasley. Put him down. Stop it!" Blaise screamed. I looked over to see him struggling against Harry and Weasley. While Weasley looked like he was in pain, both Harry and Blaise had tears running down their faces. Granger was levitating Dean's limp body. One arm simply hung there.
Dean was dead.
My stomach suddenly contracted, and I leaned over, tasting acid as I threw up. My arms wrapped around myself, and I spat on the floor several times. "I'm sorry." I didn't sound apologetic right then. Someone must have cast a spell because the vomit disappeared, and I was merely left clutching my stomach, curled up into a ball, crouching on the ground.
A hand fell on my back, and I flinched.
"Draco?" Harry's arms wrapped around me, and he laid his head on my back. "Are you going to be alright?"
I coughed as I tasted acid again, but did not throw up this time, thankfully. "I'm not the one you should be asking that to." My eyes glanced over at Blaise, who was staring lifelessly up at his boyfriend. That could have happened with Harry so easily. I pulled myself up and moved myself toward him. Reluctantly, I placed my hand on his shoulder. Blaise only threw me off.
"I'm fine." His voice was harsh. I sat down next to him, silently watching as his eyes unblinkingly stared at Dean.
"But you're not," Granger muttered.
"I said I was fine. Just leave it alone, filthy Mu –" He cut off as his head fell into his hands. His body shook, but he said nothing. No one did. What was there to say? No words could capture my shaking hands and twisted heart – my knotted stomach.
Dumbledore burst in as if he had expected to see us here. He glanced around, and down at Dean's body, which now rested on a table. Madam Rosmerta shook horribly off in the corner, clearly traumatised. There were no tears in her eyes, her lips quivered as if she was trying to fight them off.
"Oh dear." He looked infinitely older in that moment, and his eyes conveyed sadness as he stared back and forth between Blaise and Dean. "There's little worse than losing your loved one," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "I'm sorry, Mr Zabini." He walked toward Blaise, but Blaise erupted.
"I'm fucking fine! I'd be alright if you would just stop asking me how I am." His voice shook, and his red eyes glared at us. They were beyond bloodshot, and his hands trembled as he attempted to remain tearless.
"I –" What words of comfort were there? Dean was dead. And we couldn't do a damn thing to help.
"You boys need to get back to Hogwarts now. We need to inform his parents. And it isn't safe here anymore." He turned to Madam Rosmerta. "Would you be fine here alone? I need to make sure they don't get hurt." His voice rang with authority, and Madam Rosmerta merely nodded. Her eyes were red as well, and she had tears running down her cheeks.
Harry's head nuzzled into my neck, and I could feel that it was wet as well. My arms slipped around his waist, and I simply stood there, trying to steady my own breaths. There was a lump in my throat now. I swallowed, and glanced down at the floor.
Blaise refused to budge, however. "I'm not leaving." His teeth were gritted, and his eyes watered once more.
"There's nothing we can do Mr Zabini. And the last thing Mr Thomas would've wanted is that you die as well."
"You don't know shite about what he would've thought." Blaise shuddered, and he clutched the table for support.
"Mr Zabini!" Madam Rosmerta exclaimed. Yet Dumbledore didn't seem even lightly fazed.
"I know what it's like to have lost someone. I know the pain, and I know that it never stops. That – that guilt…" Dumbledore trailed off, and straightened his back again. I merely stared at him in shock. Who had he lost? Apparently, all us of were thinking the same thing.
"How would you know? You've never had anyone," Blaise spat.
"I have, in fact. It isn't safe, Mr Zabini. Do you honestly think Mr Thomas would have been happy if you had died?" Blaise paused, and a grudging acceptance started to show in his eyes.
"Fine. But I'm not doing it for you."
"Of course not." Dumbledore solemnly nodded, and began to walk out of the pub. "Quickly." We followed silently. Harry's hand slipped into mine, and we pressed closely against each other, silent and afraid.
xXxXxXxXxXxXx
"Draco?" I lifted my head and looked at Harry. The common room was quiet and almost empty.
Weasley and Granger sat on the couches, curled up next to each other. Granger's head lay in Weasley's lap, and his pulled his fingers through her hair, and sighed. Neither of them said anything, and they merely stared forward into the cackling fire.
Harry's hand trembled as he grabbed mine. His lips moved forward, and he lightly pressed a kiss against the side of my neck. "That fast – he was laughing one moment, and then the next…" Harry's hair tickled my skin, and his fingers traced light patterns on my hand.
"I know." What was I supposed to say?
"The memorial's tomorrow," Weasley muttered, and as I glanced over, I noticed that he and Granger were holding hands as well, fingers and entwined. I couldn't help but smile. I was happy for them; something had finally gotten through their thick skulls.
But the memorial was tomorrow, and I was dreading it. What were people going to say? Were we just going to stand there in awkward silence, staring at a coffin? I pulled my hands away from Harry's hand, and balled them up. "Fuck."
Harry's hands reached up and he placed them on either side of my face. His entire body shifted, and he suddenly seemed to be straddling me. His lips crashed down on mine, and my stomach seemed to tie itself up. My arms wrapped around his waist, and I could feel my cheeks heat up. His tongue probed my lips, and his hands tightened around my cheeks. I responded only by deepening the kiss, and gripping tighter around him. I wouldn't lose him the same way Blaise had lost Dean. Fuck fighting for the common good. What about us?
Harry seemed to think the same thing. When he pulled back, his eyes looked solemnly at me, and his hands trailed down my sides, only to grasp mine yet again. "We can get through this." I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. Weasley and Granger bother were staring at us – although, they continued to hold hands.
"I need to talk to Blaise," I muttered. But Harry merely continued sitting on my lap.
"I think I'm going to hold you prisoner," he said, indulging in a brief smile. "Just us."
"Oi, I think there might be a problem with that," Weasley grumbled. Harry simply ignored him. Instead he put his hands on either side and gripped the chair behind me.
"My prisoner." I wearily smiled as well, and leaned back.
"I could live like this. I don't think I'd mind. As long as you promise to kiss me sometimes."
"I'm going to kiss you more than sometimes." His smiled faded, and his eyes dropped. "But I think I'm being a bit selfish. Blaise needs you far more than I do right now." I couldn't disagree with that. He did need my help right now. Harry lifted himself up and sighed. "Good luck."
I nodded, but didn't say anything. Blaise had refused to come out of the dormitories. He had locked himself up, refusing to talk to anyone. And if he did communicate, it was usually to yell at them to go away; he yelled that he was fine.
But if anything were clear at the point, it was that he was as far from "fine" right now as possible. Dean's death affected all of us heavily, but I couldn't imagine how it was affecting him. He probably was blaming himself. I knew – to a lesser extent – what he was going through. When I thought Harry might die, how had I reacted, trying to find fault in myself? And it was hard not to! I had been a bit of a prat, to say the least.
As for Blaise, he knew how badly he had hurt Dean's feelings. Dean's worries echoed in my mind: "How long? What has to happen first?" I cringed. The extreme had to happen for Blaise to realise. Now it was too late for rushed apologies. Dean couldn't hear them.
Cautiously, I pushed open the door. There was the sound of scratching, and soon it was revealed that Blaise was sitting on Dean's bed, clawing at the bed sheets.
"Why?" His eyes hit me immediately, and I gulped. I had heard of the idea of five stages of grief, but I never had to deal with it before. Clearly Blaise was already past denial. "Why the fuck would it be me?" He reached over and grabbed a book, and began tearing pages from it, trying to throw them in an attempt to release the pain. "Fucking useless… All of it is fucking useless! Why does it matter how Dean felt? It's not like I ever told him I loved him, anyway."
"Blaise, it's not your fault. You couldn't have done anything. You were there for him, and he knew that."
"Like hell he did! Why me? Potter could've easily died, but no, it had to be Dean. Precious Potter could never die. You'd be too broken-hearted." I knew he was beyond any rational thought, but a fist tightened around my heart.
"Shut up now about Harry. I'm warning you now, Blaise…"
"Oh, you don't like it when I tease your beloved Harry. Well, fuck you. I don't care. Potter should have died. Not Dean. The only reason he died is because Potter doesn't know how to face anyone." My entire body vibrated. My tongue brimmed with insults that I barely kept from uttering. And the pain in my throat was unbearable. It took me a moment to notice that my eyes were leaking with tears. "Did I hurt your feelings? Is Draco hurt?"
"Blaise, please stop. Don't get me angry at you. I know that I can't know what you're going through. But Harry didn't do anything. I want to help you."
"Can you bring Dean back from the dead?"
"No, bu –"
"Then fuck off because you can't help me." I stood there gaping. Blaise began to turn away, but he must've felt a need to peruse that because he turned and glared at me. "And you know damn well that it is Potter's fault Dean is dead. If Dean hadn't had been friends with him, he would've been perfectly fine."
My fingers twitched, and I pulled out my wand. "I told you to let it go."
"Oh, menacing. Do you think I care what happens? Dean is dead. How did this even happen?" He made no attempt to fight back, but my hand steady pointed at him. "Now you're telling me that you're being serious about this threat?" He glanced sceptically at me. "I just said that I don't care what happens. So you and your half-arse excuse of a boyfriend can stay out of my life."
"Stupefy!" Blaise went flying and hit the four-poster board behind him. Instead of doing anything in retaliation, he slid down the wall and began laughing madly. I looked down at my wand hand in shock.
"This is priceless. It isn't enough that my boyfriend's dead. You feel the need to attack me too. God forbid I'm miserable enough!" His voice rose in volume, and he pointed his wand at me. At this point, his eyes bulged, and they radiated pure hatred. "You bastard. You fucking bastard. God forbid Dean's death is enough to deal with." His wand suddenly was pointed at me, and I forgot how to speak. And my wand dropped from my hands. But that wasn't enough for Blaise. Something inside of him had snapped. "Crucio!"
Now I flew back, and my head felt as if it had been smashed against a cinderblock as I slammed into the bed. But that was the least of my worries. My entire body felt as if it were aflame, being ripped apart. I could barely recognize that the horrified screams were my own.
"What's goi – Oh, God." Granger's voice echoed around my head, and the pain suddenly vanished. I lay on the ground limply, and closed my eyes. My entire body still throbbed, and I wished I could erase what just happened.
"Go ahead. Run to Dumbledore, Granger. Tell him what just happened. See if I care."
"No, don't." The words escaped my mouth.
"What, Draco, are you sure that you don't want me to… He just used an Unforgivable curse."
"He's not in his right mind. Please Granger. I don't want him subject to those punishments." There was a silence that followed. I hoped someone would say something, but no one did. I pulled myself up, and grabbed hold of the bed for support.
"You're bleeding!" Granger rushed over to me, and I knew immediately that she would remain silent. Blaise didn't thank us – not that I expected him to – but I knew that he was beyond impulsive attacks right now. His entire face was white, and his fingers were stiff around his wand, although it now pointed at nothing.
"I'm fine." Her hand touched a spot in the back of my head, and I winced. Pain immediately shot through my head. "There has to be a spell for this, right?"
"Well, something like Murtlap Essence would work if we only had it. I think you should go to Professor Snape. He'll know what to do, and he won't get Zabini in trouble." Blaise simply shrunk back in his bed, horrified at what he had done. I could tell the overriding anger had completely worn off.
"Yeah, Snape will know." I took a few shaky steps, and then grabbed onto another bed for support.
"Are you alright?" I nodded, and although I felt a little light-headed, I proceeded to walk out of the room and down the stairs.
"Draco?" Harry stood at the bottom, peering up, and when he saw me clutching my head, he immediately began springing up the stairs, two-by-two. "What happened?" I moved my hand from the back of my head to wave it off as nothing, but my hand was soaked in blood. The colour seemed to drain from Harry's face. "What did he do to you?" He lunged forward, but Granger restrained him.
"Don't hurt Blaise. He doesn't know what he's doing." I stumbled slightly, but shoved my way past Weasley, who stood still, in shock.
"Doesn't know what he's doing – what did he do to you?"
"He just threw me against a bed; that's all." Harry and Granger followed me out of the portrait, and each grabbed hold of me as I stumbled again. The world was starting to spin around, somewhat.
"And –" Granger began, but I cut her off with a glare.
"And what?" Harry held on and turned me around. His fingers dug into my skin. "What did he do to you?" My mouth remained shut, and my eyes slid over to Granger. She blushed, clearly embarrassed that she had let it slip. But it was too late to hold it back now. I just hoped that he would understand and not rashly run up to attack Blaise. He was going through enough right now.
"He used the Cruciatus," Granger mumbled. She looked down at the floor. Harry's hand let go of me as if I had burnt him, and he began running up the staircase.
"He what! That's it. I don't care if –"
"If Dean's died?" My voice stopped him in his tracks. "What would you do if I had died? Would you just handle it as if it were nothing? Please Harry. Leave him alone. He's… I can't even imagine what he's going through." Harry paused. "If you had died, I would be no more rational." His shoulders dropped forward, and he came forward toward me. I held onto him for support as my head swam again.
"You alright?" Granger seemed to sense that something was wrong.
"I need to get to Snape."
"Alright, let's go." Granger and Harry both stood on either side of me, and they helped me down the stairs. The dungeons never had seemed so far away, and when we finally reached his door, I almost wanted to hug it. Everything was tipping from side to side and I could barely keep on my feet. There was a stabbing pain in the back of my head, repetitive, like knocking. Everything began to fade t to black at the edges.
"Why are you disturbing me this late at –" He saw me and froze. "What happened?" I stumbled forward, and Harry caught me. His arms wrapped around me, holding me up.
"He needs Murtlap Essence. He's bleeding…" I could barely keep focus. There was the sound of scuffling, and something wet pressed against the back of my head.
"Sit him down on the couch." Suddenly there was something soft and warm underneath me. I closed my eyes, and their voices started to fade. "Sit up!" My body was shifted again, and something was shoved down my throat. I gagged, and clawed at my tongue as everything suddenly came into focus once more.
"What the hell…"
"It was blood-replenishing potion," Weasley replied. Had Weasley been with us the whole time? Had I been that oblivious?
"What happened?" Snape asked, as I gaped at Weasley.
"It was Blaise. He got angry at me. Well, I got angry at him. But he sent me flying across the room."
"And he used the Cruciatus," Harry mumbled.
"I – It's fine. He's going through a lot. You won't tell him, will you?" I looked hopefully at Snape, but he merely nodded in agreement.
"If you wish. Zabini seems to be going through a lot at the moment." The only thing I could do was nod in agreement.
"Thank you."
"For what. Go to bed. And don't get caught roaming the halls this late at night. I won't stand up for you if you get caught." It was his way of saying "you're welcome," and I wasn't about to question it. We all stood up – thankfully, this time, without feeling the urge to faint – and we cracked the door open.
"Weasley, were you there all along?"
"I was supporting you down the stairs," Weasley said, slightly red in the face. "You looked like you were about to pass out.
"Well, I was. I just didn't even noti – I guess it doesn't matter." Weasley let out an empty chuckle.
"It's alright. You could barely stand up. I don't blame you. I can't believe you're letting Zabini off the hook though."
"If Granger died, what would you do?" His mouth dropped open and his face seemed to turn green instantly. Still, no words came out of his mouth, and he only ended up closing it after a moment or two. "Exactly."
xXxXxXxXxXxXx
The memorial was packed with parents and students alike. People who sobbed even though they had never known him – who sobbed only because it meant that the war was really beginning and their lives were in danger. There was no other reason. They didn't care how wonderful he had been, or that he had died at the age of fifteen. It was because they were in danger that they protested and cried.
Harry held onto my arm. I glanced over to find Granger clutching onto Weasley as well. It was strange how these times brought people together. And Blaise sat by himself. He merely wore a tie and pants. His robes must have been discarded somewhere on the bed. But he clutched his legs to his chest. His attempts to push back tears were miserable, and when I finally noticed that he was crying, he hid his face.
Dean's parents were the first to get up and speak. Well, his father did. His mother stood up front with tears streaming down her face. She stood silent while his father spoke of courage and how Dean wouldn't have wanted us to give up. They mentioned his childhood and how bright he always was – always optimistic. But it was nothing special. It was almost a generic speech.
Dumbledore was next, and he spoke of bravery as well. He said that Dean cared about us and that he had been willing to sacrifice himself only with highest hopes that we continued to fight. And then he surprised us all.
"But Dean had a boyfriend, something that was well-known at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, they were not treated as I might have hoped. But people shouldn't fear love. At times like these, we need to embrace it most. Love and hope is keeps us going through times of peril. Therefore, perhaps, Mr Zabini, you would like to make a slight speech of your own?"
Blaise seemed to shrink into his chair. "Me, give a speech?" His voice was so soft, and he glanced at us with fearful eyes. "I can't…"
"Blaise, no one knew him better," I tried comfortingly.
"But that's not true. I barely –" His eyes screwed shut.
"Blaise?" I was shocked to hear Granger called him by his first name. "You don't have to, but it might make people realise – I think it might be the right thing to do. And maybe Dean would've wanted… He would have spoken if it had been you."
It was funny how the unlikeliest of people sometimes made a difference. Blaise stood up, and began walking toward the front of the crowd. And quite a crowd it was. Staff, parents, reporters, students… There definitely were over a thousand people there. And Blaise trembled as he faced forward. His mouth opened and nothing came out.
Dumbledore gave a small smile and sat down. Blaise's eyes scanned the crowd quickly and rested on us. He seemed to take some kind of support in it, because he tried again.
"I don't really have anything prepared, and I'm not one to really make sentimental speeches…" Everyone seemed to rustle in their seats as their eyes focused on Blaise. He looked unsteady, but he continued. "Dean was, well…wonderful. He dealt with a lot dating me. I mean, as a Slytherin, I guess I'm naturally stubborn. I didn't even think we were going to end up together." He laughed slightly through tears. "But I guess he was just as stubborn. And it was a good thing he was. I couldn't have been easy to deal with me, but he did. He never hesitated to tell me how much he cared about me – that he loved me." The next part was so soft, I almost wasn't sure I had heard it. "I only wish I had done the same."
There was only silence. No one said anything or moved. They looked like they were actually thinking about what he had said. Maybe what Blaise had said could pull them out of their lives and make them realise that this war wasn't going to happen to us individually. Maybe people would understand the significance that it wasn't "someone" or "a student" that died, but that it was Dean who had died.
Blaise stood awkwardly up there, shifting from foot to foot. He looked unsure what to do, and took a few steps toward a seat, but then paused. Dumbledore motioned for him to sit down, and he practically ran to his seat, his cheeks tinted with red, and his head bent as sobs racked his body.
When he sat down, I immediately leaned over to hug him, but he shook me off. "Just not now Draco." His voice lacked any harshness, and he barely muttered it through tears.
The rest of the service seemed unimportant in comparison. A few more people I didn't know stood up to say a few words, although none as pronounced Blaise's. The crowd even seemed to become restless by the end, and when it finally finished, we seemed to be the only ones lingering. Or so I thought. Some witch came up to us, her eyes red and puffy.
"Thank you," she said to Blaise. There was a meaningful glance thrown backwards, and that was it. Yet, Blaise seemed to pause. Then, more came. Person after person, with solemn steps and a warming smile, an encouraging pat on the back – all came towards Blaise, uttering a word or two of thanks. People cared.
I was so transfixed that when Harry attempted to gently play with my hair, I jumped up in the air. "Merlin, you scared me," I muttered, pulling him closer. He gave a small smile and breathed in deeply, pressing his head to my chest. "I think they understand." I nodded, and looked over.
Blaise looked speechless. He merely accepted the words with a nod or an uncharacteristically shy word or two back. It was strange to see him, centre of attention, yet afraid and uncertain. I knew it felt almost like this wasn't happening. If only…
xXxXxXxXxXxXx
I nuzzled up against Harry and smiled as his hands roamed around my chest. His fingers hooked on my boxers, and my breath suddenly caught in my throat as warmth started spread lower. Harry suddenly bit at my neck, and his hands moved higher again, caressing my skin. His thumb slowly drew circle around my nipple, and I arched my chest upward. My moan was cut off as his lips pressed against mine.
It didn't take long for his tongue to probe at my lips, and I opened up, sighing as that wonderful vanilla invaded me, overtook everything. A knot violently twisted in my stomach as his hand unexpectedly palmed my erection. I gasped against his lips, and he bit down slightly as my tongue pressed against his, assaulting his mouth. He shoved me against the bed as his mouth now travelled to my nipple. He bit down again, slightly, and I growled as his hand continued to push down.
"Fuck, Harry," His tongue only continued tracing patterns into my skin. My body was aflame, and I felt tied down. Hell, he was holding me down!
"Patience. I never thought you'd like it so much." His fingers played with the edge of my boxers again, and I hissed as mycock sprung out into the open air. His calloused fingers wrapped around it, and he jerked upward. I let out a choked moan, and clutched the sheets. I didn't know how much longer I could even last. My stomach felt tight, and my body hummed.
"Stop teasing." The words came out as gasps, as if I were out of breath. Which, well, I was. Harry's tongued dragged down across my skin, dancing at my hip.
"Don't you want it?" I nodded vigorously, my nails now digging into my palms as I – unsuccessfully – attempted to arch up into the air. His laugh was low, and his head moved down between my legs, finally. There was a pause before something incredibly warm and wonderful engulfed me. I cried out as his cheeks hollowed, and he moved up. I could feel the tip of my cock pressing against the back of his throat. My hands reached for his hair, and I pulled through.
"Fuck."
"I told you, not yet. But soon." I didn't have time to make a comeback because he began dribbling saliva on the tip of my cock and carefully licking it up. I pushed his head down again, and he sputtered a little, but didn't make any sign of moving away. He just continued, gloriously hallowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue around in delicious patterns. Ohfuck.
"So close…" His hand clawed over to his wand and he conjured something. I felt a sudden tight relentless squeeze, refusing me any release. "A bloody ring cock where did you – Oohh…" He gave another agonizingly wonderful lick before pulling back.
"I thought it might be useful to learn this spell." His hand now skilfully moved up my shaft, applying just the right amounts of pressure. I groaned into his lips as he spread himself on top of me. His other hand pulled into my hair, tugging it back forcefully. I attempted to fight back weakly, and I licked and nibbled his lips, basking in the vanilla. My body built up, and it began to hurt. Fuckinghell, his hand didn't stop, and I thrust my hips up.
"Let me…" Before I could complete the thought, he had removed the cock ring as well as any contact. My erection sprung up, and I shivered. "What the fuck are you doing?" My body still whirred and sang and begged for release. I attempted to move my own hand down, but he batted it away. Breathlessly, I pulled myself up, only to see him smothering his cock with liberal amounts of lube. "What are you doing?" He responded by pulling in for another brief kiss.
"Spread your legs."
"I –" I couldn't find any objections, and blushing, I did as he said.
"C'mon Draco, you look so nervous. We've done this before."
"Yeah, but both of us were highly intoxicated if I remember correctly."
"Are you saying that we need to be drunk or under lust potion to have any fun? I'm pretty sure we managed some fun before that." I nodded. "Do you trust me?"
"Well, yes, but –"
"Then it's going to be fine. I – I don't want this to be like the other times." It was his turn to blush, and his eyes glanced away. "I don't want it to be just about the fuck." This time when he kissed me, it was gentle. Our teeth didn't clash, and neither of us fought, our tongues roughly scraping. It was just a simple.
"Alright." I barely breathed it, but he nudged my legs slightly further apart. Carefully, he nudged one finger in.
"Tell me if it hurts." He moved it slightly before adding another one. I hissed slightly, and he grabbed my hand. When he started moving it, I wasn't sure what he was going at until he placed a finger in his mouth, sucking on it. I gasped, and felt my stomach tighten when suddenly –
"Shit!"
"I was trying to distract you. Oh, are you okay, sorry?" He had scissored his fingers, and as he apologised several times more, my fingers limply dangled still half-in his mouth. I couldn't help. He looked so absurd. And before I knew it, I was simply in hysterics. Laughing and laughing. His red face in confused expression didn't help. "Draco?" I merely shook my head, unable to respond. By the time I finished gasping for breath, he looked more worried than anything else. "Are you alright?"
"You're so silly. I love you." I smiled and attempted to lean forward, only to be reminded by the pain that shot through me, what was going on. "Ouch."
"You think?" He smiled slightly and put in a third finger. At this I squirmed, and he removed them. "Prepare yourself, good sir?" he muttered in a fake posh accented. Slowly he eased in, grabbing my arms and clutching tightly. "Fuck. Shit."
"Not so proper now, are you?" I somehow managed to say it despite the pain. But Harry at least seemed to be enjoying himself. I didn't remember it being this painful last time. Yet, we were drunk at the time, and Harry had been under lust potion. I hissed in pain as he finally stopped moving.
"Fuck, so tight." His breaths slowed down, and he looked at me. "You're perfect."
"I don't know whether I'd go that far. But I am pretty damn amazing."I winced as he shifted.
"Tell me when to start moving."
"Just do it."
Slowly he shifted, and began moving. I groaned, trying to hide the pain. Harry was starting to look nervous. Clearly he had expected that I would enjoy this more. And, well, I was expecting that as well. Yet his trouble wavered as each thrust made him moan and made his fingers squeeze more tightly around my arms.
And then he hit it – that little bundle of nerves inside of me. I gasped, arching my hips off of the mattress to meet his thrust. His face bloomed into a proper smile, and I felt my stomach begin to constrict again.
The only sounds were of us moaning. All words were lost in a haze of grunts and groans. Yet this wasn't like the other times. It wasn't just our sweaty bodies, writhing and pressing together in a tiny bed. Our bodies hummed. They connected. They sang and called out a chorus whilst keeping a link. Something I might have even called spiritual if the word wasn't so ridiculous.
My stomach began to tighten. "Harry." And then I was coming on his chest. He gasped as I constricted around him, but continued thrusting. He was so close, I could tell, just by his expression. His fluttering eyes, the sweat clinging to his face, and his hair dishevelled. When I had finished and lay there panting, he still moved with as much vigour. Until –
His face contorted, and I felt something warm fill me up. I groaned, and stared mesmerised as his tongue dabbled at his lower lip, and his mouth hung open in a silent cry. And when he collapsed exhausted against me, I couldn't help but laugh.
"Why?" He turned to me, and nuzzled in my neck. Yet he didn't answer. "Why, Harry?" There was a pause.
"Because we might die. Like Dean. I don't know what's going to happen or when it's going to happen, but fuck it if I'm not going to do my best to make as many memories with you as possible." My smile felt stressed, so I let it slide off of my face as I grabbed his hand.
"You don't have to fight this battle. It's not yours. They're not fighting for you."
"But they want me to… I don't know, but they need me as some symbol of hope or who knows what. I can't just abandon everyone, Draco. It doesn't work like that."
"You're right; it's only like that with the normal people." I sighed.
"You're missing the point. It's just what I'm going to do. And the war's starting. Everyone around me is going to be in dan –"
"I'm going to stay with you."
He sighed.
"I was afraid you'd say that. Weasley and Granger too. We're not going to leave you."
"I know. I just wish you would." It started to get quiet, and I began to drift off, but Harry's voice interrupted me. "Draco?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"I know you do. I love you too."
"I know. I just thought I'd say it."
"Such a sap," I mumbled, giving him a tired nudge. He laughed and leaned into me, the covers now thrown off of us and lying on the floor.
It took less than a minute for him to start snoring. We had so much ahead of us. There was an entire war, and I wasn't sure that we both would get out alive. But I was going to fight. What the hell, what was there to lose?
I was pulled out of my thoughts by Harry talking in his sleep. "Truth or dare?" I laughed.
"Dare."
Fin (unless you want an epilogue?)
A/N 2: I'm thinking actually that I will do an epilogue, in which case this journey isn't yet over. 3 You guys are great, just don't kill me for killing Dean, alright? I was going to kill Harry, so you guys were lucky. I decided to be nice. Hehe. But even if you don't leave a review, I think my silent readers are wonderful as well. I LOVE YOU ALL. So, epilogue or not?