Freud and his Friends
11 - The Morning After
Freud
and his Friends – 11 – The Morning After
Harry woke up feeling like he had just survived a battle.
His head ached, his muscles complained of excessive exertion, the knuckles on
his right hand hurt for some reason, he had a bitter taste in his mouth, and
over it all in his gut he knew something was horribly wrong. What's worse – he
remembered exactly what was so wrong.
He turned his head towards the side of the bed over which
he left Draco. A familiar blond head rested on the pillow next to his
arms hugging the pillow in which the face was hidden. They both lay above the
sheets, and he could see Draco's lower body exposed by the still-lowered
pants. The pale skin was black-and-blue all over, the largest blue mark forming
on the lower back, and then… blood and dried come covering the discolored
thighs, which were lying slightly spread, as much as the pants around his
booted ankles would allow, showing an even worse damage in between them.
Harry felt sick. He rushed off the bed, still trying to be
careful not to shift it to much, not wanting to disturb the victimized boy next
to him, and ran to the bathroom, losing his battle with nausea before he got to
the toilet bowl, splattering the putrid contents of his stomach on the tile
mat next to it. At length finishing the retching he moved the soiled mat away
from himself, leaning on the wall, breathing hard, smelling his own stench.
At last finding the strength to get up he hefted himself
up, leaning on the wall, stumbling back, searching for his wand.
Finally finding it at the scene of the crime, among his own
scattered clothes, he lifted it and turned to tend to his… boyfriend?
He cast most of the healing spells he learned in his
training, that same training that helped him to do this to his victim. He cast
a few pain killing and cleaning spells as well, and only then did he cast the
monitoring spell to see if there were any injuries left – as he was too scared
to cast it to begin with, fearing knowledge of the exact extent of what he did.
Draco didn't wake. Thankful for that, because he didn't
know what to do if he did, Harry went to the bathroom to clean up after
When he returned, having taken a cleaning, but not at all,
cleansing, shower, Draco was awake on the bed, looking at him. Feeling hollow, wanting
to retch anew, and still as afraid to approach Harry asked:
"Are you alright?"
Draco's face looked as Harry felt.
"I don't know."
Harry cautiously approached the bed, not knowing what to
expect, not knowing what to say, or feel, or think. At last he sat down on the
bed, looking away at the bedroom wall.
"I think we need to see that shrink of yours."
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