Chapter Nine
June to September 2009
"It's been a long long time / Since I've known the taste of freedom /And those clinging vines / That had me bound, well I don't need 'em"
"Light of a Clear Blue Morning" By Dolly Parton
Draco's hands shook as he laid in his hospital bed, waiting for Theo and Hermione to return from the inquest about Astoria's death. He was already grateful that it was Potter who had killed the evil bitch. The Wizengamot wasn't going to throw the Boy Who Lived into Azkaban, even if he had illegally apparated into a private dwelling outside the control of the British Ministry.
The nurses had taken away the Daily Prophet because Draco had grown too distraught reading the speculation about Hermione and Theo getting sentenced to time in Azkaban and about their relationship. His magic became increasingly erratic when he was upset and the idea that people were talking about some relationship between Hermione, Theo and himself made him feel physically ill.
There was no relationship to speak of. They had rescued him. They were the only people who gave a damn about him anymore. Everyone else had been content to let him rot. Even Potter, the people's hero, thought Hermione had crossed a line. He'd woken up in the middle of the night to them arguing in hushed voices at the end of his hospital bed. Because Hermione or Theo was always with him, they never let him be alone, so Potter had to come here to argue with her.
Gods, she'd looked like a goddess, the moonlight shining on her hair that crackled with magic as she argued.
"He's worth everything to me," she had hissed at Potter, poking him in the chest, after he had suggested that she'd gone too far for someone as unclean as Draco Malfoy.
Her words circled through his mind whether he was asleep or awake on an endless loop.
He's worth everything to me.
He's worth everything to me.
When was the last time someone said he was worth something, anything let alone everything? He didn't even know. His heart hurt and they'd been gone so long.
/COME BACK/ He called with his mind. /BE SAFE/ He didn't think that his legilimency was strong enough for them to hear them in the courtroom, but he still prayed that he wouldn't lose the only people that cared whether he lived or died.
Draco had to believe that the Wizengamot wouldn't put a war heroine in Azkaban for saving his life. Theo was another story. Draco felt a fresh burn of anxiety in his chest. They should have left him with Astoria; he should have died in Crete. Nothing was worth Theo spending time in that terrible place. He was too good, too kind for Azkaban. That place would destroy him.
As Draco started to weep, everything in his room made of glass began to shatter. His magic flowed out of him like lightning, exploding the vase next to his bed, the bits of pottery slicing his cheek as they flew through the air.
The healers were in the room almost instantly. Several attempted to restrain him and he instinctually fought back against them, scratching and yelling at them.
"Get off me!" Draco screamed.
"Petrificalus Totalus!" one yelled. Tears ran down Draco's cheeks as they poured potions down his throat. The world faded to black.
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Draco returned to awareness by slow degrees. He slowly sat up, blinking and discovered Blaise sitting in the chair next to his bed. Draco watched his brother-in-law for a few minutes. Blaise's head was in his hands. His normally perfect clothes were wrinkled and askew.
Had he slept in the chair?
"Blaise," Draco croaked out, "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Draco," Blaise dropped his hands and looked up, "Fuck mate, you're awake. The healers said they weren't sure when you'd wake up."
"Again, Blaise. What the fuck are you doing here?" Draco wasn't in the mood for dealing with this.
"I-I wanted to come as soon as I heard. I couldn't believe that Astoria would -"
"Don't say her name," Draco bit out.
Blaise paused, nodded and swallowed. "I didn't realise what was happening I swear. I just thought … I don't know what I thought, but not that she was trying to kill you."
"Killing me would have been too quick," Draco hissed, "She thought I deserved to suffer first. She was in love with Vince. Did Daph know?"
"Daph confessed that she knew that she didn't love you, that she hated you and blamed you for Vince's death. But Daphne never thought Astoria would take it so far." Blaise's hand tapped against his knee in agitation, the same way it had since they were eleven.
"How far did Daphne think she would take my punishment? Refusing to have my children? Ending my house?" Draco didn't understand why Blaise was even here. What did he hope to accomplish?
Blaise shook his head, "I'm sorry. I should have seen it. I didn't know."
"You didn't know. Or you didn't want to know," came an angry voice from the door.
Theo. Thank the gods.
Draco looked at him and his heart swelled. Theo looked like he wanted to tear Blaise apart to defend him.
"I realised something was wrong after one poker night, Blaise. I went and had lunch with Draco at work. Did you ever try to see him outside of his wife's watchful eye? I didn't know what was wrong, but I bloody well tried to figure it out. He was our best mate," Theo gritted out. "And you were the only person who could get into Malfoy Manor to see him. You chose not to see! Get the fuck out."
"But…but," Blaise stammered.
"Get the fuck out, Blaise," Draco repeated. "Maybe I'll want to see you someday, but it's not today."
Blaise got up and headed to the door, pausing for a second and looking back as though he wanted to say something else to Draco. Instead, Theo shoved him out the door. Draco could hear heated yelling from the hallway, but couldn't make out the words.
After a few minutes, Theo stormed back into the room, slamming the door behind him.
He crossed the room with single-minded determination, placing his hand on Draco's cheek.
"Are you alright?" Theo whispered. "They should never have let him in here."
Draco was embarrassed to realise that he was crying, Theo's hand was catching his tears. He couldn't seem to push out the words to answer Theo's question.
"Shhh," Theo soothed, "I'm here now. I'm here." He pulled Draco into his arms and held him tight.
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Draco nervously watched the healer who was sitting next to his bed. The healer looked just as nervous as Draco felt. He tapped his quill onto his clipboard in a staccato beat that made Draco press his fingernails into his palms, the pain allowing him to focus on the Healer's next words.
"Mr. Malfoy, we want to discuss your options for long term care."
In retrospect the words seemed so innocuous, but when the healer suggested outpatient treatment while Draco stayed at the Manor, Draco's magic had set all the bedding and his curtains on fire. The burns to his legs and damage to the room had resulted in him being moved to another hospital room. He'd been sedated for three days after that.
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Hermione was attempting to listen to what the healer was saying to her and Theo, she really was, but the first words kept running through her mind, drowning out everything else.
"The damage done to Mr. Malfoy is far worse than originally expected."
The damage to Draco is far worse than originally expected.
The damage to Draco is far worse than originally expected.
The damage to Draco is far worse than originally expected.
She wanted to vomit. She wanted to bring that heinous bitch back to life so that she could murder her again. He didn't deserve this. He had never deserved any of this.
"The hospital wants to offer Mr. Malfoy transitional housing, because he responded so poorly when we suggested he return to his family home."
An understatement to say the least. He'd ended up with terrible burns all over his legs and had been kept in a magically induced coma for three days. Hermione could only shake her head at the hospital's ludicrous suggestion that he go back to the place where all his trauma had happened.
"He's going to come stay with me," Hermione interrupted the healer who was explaining the amenities of St. Mungo's transitional housing to Draco. "Excuse me," she said, trying to get the healer's attention, "I said - Draco is going to come stay with me."
The healers stared at her in confusion, and she glared at them. Instead she turned to Draco and took his hand.
"I have been put on administrative leave from work so it's perfect timing," she smiled."I can help get you to appointments here at the hospital. My fireplace is in the Floo network even though I am in a muggle area. It'll be fine."
Draco looked at her in confusion, "Administrative leave?"
"I'm off work with pay. It's a formality. Basically paid vacation." She tried to reassure him with her smile.
Theo took Draco's other hand, "I can help, too."
"Are both of you sure?" Draco looked between them. "I'm not - very useful - yet."
"I'd rather sleep in my bed than in the chairs here at St. Mungo's and I'm not planning on leaving you to go through this alone. So yes, I'm very sure."
Draco nodded in acquiescence.
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Hermione took time each day to practise basic charms and spells with Draco to prevent his magical core from getting overloaded as it was at the hospital. She'd spend hours with him working their way through years of charms curriculum until Draco could use each spell successfully again. It was a frustrating torture for Draco, who felt like a useless child.
He missed the physical labour from his job at the Archives and took to exercising two to three times per day after finding a set of muggle weights in one of the guest bedroom closets. Doing things without magic soothed his frazzled nerves. Whenever his muscles ached and burned, Draco recalled Astoria telling him how grotesque his body was and it made him work out harder.
Theo caught Draco at it, shirtless and sweaty. Draco turned to look at the noise and discovered Theo standing there, mouth open.
"Did you need something?" Draco asked, sitting the weights down and looking at Theo while he wiped the sweat with one of the small towels that he had found in the washroom.
"No-no." Theo stammered, a blush painting his cheeks. "I mean yes, Hermione wanted me to invite you down for tea. She's even made little sandwiches."
"Oh, I'll be right down." Draco turned to pull a shirt on and missed the hungry look that Theo cast his way.
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Draco's spells sometimes fizzled out and sometimes they made things shatter. After a particularly rough morning, Draco had destroyed two windows and set Hermione's kitchen curtains on fire. Theo had everything set to rights in moments and Hermione stayed sitting at the table, as patient as ever. But suddenly Draco could bear to look at either of them.
He stomped angrily from the room, ignoring their kind voices pleading with him to be patient with himself.
He didn't deserve their kindness. He shouldn't be here. They were freshly engaged and in love. He was just in the way.
He should never have agreed to come and stay here. He was nothing more than a burden to Theo and Hermione. He didn't understand why they were putting up with him. They should be planning their wedding, not dealing with him and the destruction he was wreaking in Hermione's cottage, in their lives. He wasn't their responsibility.
They would both be better off if he wasn't here. Who did Draco Malfoy's existence even serve anymore?
Perhaps he should end it all, he had his magic back enough to end himself. He doubted he had the strength and focus to cast an Avada. He'd never been able to do that particular spell well, but there were any number of spells that he could finish himself with. Just not in Hermione's house, he wouldn't make her clean up after that. Maybe he'd go on a walk and see whether there was some place nearby where he could do it discreetly.
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Draco's head was in Hermione's lap and she ran her fingers through his hair, Theo was kissing him slowly. Draco's mind whirled at the sensation of Theo's lips on his. It had been so long since he'd had a dream like this. Because that was what this must be, a dream.
"Fuck Draco," Theo whispered between kisses. "Always teasing me. Working out. Getting all sweaty. Fuck. I just want to lick you all over when you are doing that."
Hermione's laugh was bright. Her golden eyes smiled down at the two of them.
"You do not - you can't, you have Hermione. You two are just taking pity on me," Draco pointed out, logically. "These dreams are just my mind expressing my inappropriate waking desires so that I don't go completely mad."
"I'll show you inappropriate waking desires," Theo covered Draco's body with his own, kissing and sucking his skin until Draco was panting beneath him. When Theo finally took Draco's cock into his mouth, Draco was a writhing whimpering mess. Theo's eyes met his when he came down the other man's throat.
"You two are so ridiculously hot," Hermione sighed. "It's a wonder I get anything done."
"Ahh, are you feeling left out love?" Theo asked. "I'll teach Draco how to eat your sweet cunt."
"Filthy mouth, Theo."
"That's not all that's filthy."
Draco sat up in bed, his cock hard beneath the blankets. Theo and Hermione were only two doors down the hall, but he could never - they could never want - it just couldn't happen.
It would never happen. Draco's dreams were just that, dreams.
But he still bit his lip to keep from moaning Theo and Hermione's name as he fucked into his hand. After he was finished, he grabbed his wand and vanished the wetness from his bedding. Curling into himself in shame at his weakness, he eventually fell back asleep, but had no more dreams.
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Draco was miserably pushing his food around his plate. Hermione's cooking was delicious, but he just didn't have an appetite tonight. It was hard to be suddenly allowed to eat as much as you wanted. Anything you wanted. Even his tea was made properly. It had been so long since that had been the case. And to know that House elves had not been involved in the making of his meal, he did not think he could ever trust elves again. He knew that it wasn't their fault, that it was Astoria's, but that didn't change the way that he felt.
It was hard to even have an appetite these days. His stomach was always in knots when it came to eating. He hadn't been allowed to eat as much as he wanted in years and it was impossible to convince his body that it was okay to be full, that Astoria wasn't going to appear and order the Elves to take away his food, that someone wouldn't ban some favourite food of his at no provocation.
Draco looked up and saw that Theo and Hermione were finished eating. They were both looking at him with concern.
"Draco," Hermione began, "Aren't you going to eat?" The worried crease to her brow would have been cute if her question hadn't started his heart beating like a herd of centaurs.
He was a failure. He couldn't even eat. He couldn't do magic that he used to do as a child. He couldn't be here. He couldn't look at them. He couldn't do this.
He fled the room.