Scars III
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
5,115
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
5,115
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Speak To Me
Chapter 11: Speak to me
Harry settled himself next to Viktor. This was the third day he had made a point of being in the great hall for breakfast. Not only did he have the opportunity to keep an eye on the new defense teacher, Dumbledore, and the students, but it was the best place to wait.
Only he didn’t need to wait anymore. Draco was back. Draco was, in fact, sitting across from him.
“Hello Harry.”
‘He sounds good,’ Harry thought. “How’s the family?” Harry asked, trying his best to keep his tone unobtrusive.
Draco frowned at him, his almost white eyebrows arching in the center.
‘How have I never noticed that before?’ Harry thought and felt something within him tighten.
“Their doing alright. Father’s heart attack was unexpected but my mother is handling it pretty well,” Draco said flatly.
Harry was surprised. He hadn’t even considered how they would explain Lucius’s death. “That’s good to hear,” he said evenly.
“Harry,” Draco said, and his voice was suddenly filled with a wavering nervous edge. “Could I speak with you in private?”
Glancing at Viktor Harry nodded and stood. He followed Draco out of the great hall, through the large double doors and onto the dew drenched grass.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked after a short silence.
The question was inadequate. They both knew that. Too much had happened, to much was happening right now. There was no simple way to describe where they were right now. Tears and screams had been hurled like javelins in war and neither side was unscathed.
“I want you to know…” the pause became a silence as Draco searched for a word that might describe just what it was he desired.
“I’m done playing,” Draco said with a sudden finality. Harry said nothing. He had no way of knowing what Draco meant so he opted to wait and listen.
“I’ve tried every method I could imagine to make this pain go away,” Draco explained, his emphases in the slow, graceful movement of his hands; as though he were speaking not only in English but also in a strange and exotic sign language.
“I’ve tried to forget. But memories are always coming back. I remember your words, the way you looked at me. I remember when you gave me your wings. I remember when you healed me. I remember…the memories just never go away.”
Harry nodded his head minutely. He knew what Draco meant. His own memories of the blonde boy haunted him as well. Memories of moments when he had found peace in Draco’s presence. Memories of when he had turned on his own nature so he could protect, love, and keep Draco close.
“I,” Draco said, then bit into his lip, his eyes falling shut as though in some personal agony. “I’m terrified of you. But I can’t seem to live without you. I’m never safe unless you’re near me. I’m never…the pain, the torture of having you gone…I can’t live like that anymore Harry.”
The raw emotions in the words were nearly enough to drive Harry to his knees.
“I’m giving you a second chance,” Draco said quietly. “I’m hoping, no, begging you to do the same. Can’t we just start this over?”
Gathering any courage he had ever had, gathering every drop of devotion he contained Harry whispered, “…yes.”
The moment after that proclamation seemed to last forever. Time, space, and existence ceased and there was only that longed for sense of security left.
“Nothing else can matter,” Draco whispered. His words broke the eternity of solace. The fear fell upon Harry like a physical affliction.
“What…?” Harry asked, moving forward.
“I’m a werewolf.”
Harry settled himself next to Viktor. This was the third day he had made a point of being in the great hall for breakfast. Not only did he have the opportunity to keep an eye on the new defense teacher, Dumbledore, and the students, but it was the best place to wait.
Only he didn’t need to wait anymore. Draco was back. Draco was, in fact, sitting across from him.
“Hello Harry.”
‘He sounds good,’ Harry thought. “How’s the family?” Harry asked, trying his best to keep his tone unobtrusive.
Draco frowned at him, his almost white eyebrows arching in the center.
‘How have I never noticed that before?’ Harry thought and felt something within him tighten.
“Their doing alright. Father’s heart attack was unexpected but my mother is handling it pretty well,” Draco said flatly.
Harry was surprised. He hadn’t even considered how they would explain Lucius’s death. “That’s good to hear,” he said evenly.
“Harry,” Draco said, and his voice was suddenly filled with a wavering nervous edge. “Could I speak with you in private?”
Glancing at Viktor Harry nodded and stood. He followed Draco out of the great hall, through the large double doors and onto the dew drenched grass.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked after a short silence.
The question was inadequate. They both knew that. Too much had happened, to much was happening right now. There was no simple way to describe where they were right now. Tears and screams had been hurled like javelins in war and neither side was unscathed.
“I want you to know…” the pause became a silence as Draco searched for a word that might describe just what it was he desired.
“I’m done playing,” Draco said with a sudden finality. Harry said nothing. He had no way of knowing what Draco meant so he opted to wait and listen.
“I’ve tried every method I could imagine to make this pain go away,” Draco explained, his emphases in the slow, graceful movement of his hands; as though he were speaking not only in English but also in a strange and exotic sign language.
“I’ve tried to forget. But memories are always coming back. I remember your words, the way you looked at me. I remember when you gave me your wings. I remember when you healed me. I remember…the memories just never go away.”
Harry nodded his head minutely. He knew what Draco meant. His own memories of the blonde boy haunted him as well. Memories of moments when he had found peace in Draco’s presence. Memories of when he had turned on his own nature so he could protect, love, and keep Draco close.
“I,” Draco said, then bit into his lip, his eyes falling shut as though in some personal agony. “I’m terrified of you. But I can’t seem to live without you. I’m never safe unless you’re near me. I’m never…the pain, the torture of having you gone…I can’t live like that anymore Harry.”
The raw emotions in the words were nearly enough to drive Harry to his knees.
“I’m giving you a second chance,” Draco said quietly. “I’m hoping, no, begging you to do the same. Can’t we just start this over?”
Gathering any courage he had ever had, gathering every drop of devotion he contained Harry whispered, “…yes.”
The moment after that proclamation seemed to last forever. Time, space, and existence ceased and there was only that longed for sense of security left.
“Nothing else can matter,” Draco whispered. His words broke the eternity of solace. The fear fell upon Harry like a physical affliction.
“What…?” Harry asked, moving forward.
“I’m a werewolf.”