Wicked

Wow guys- thank you all so much for your incredibly encouraging and lovely reviews, it´s the best reward a writer can get!!!

(Betsy: I didn´t think it was weird! And yes, it bugs me as well if it´s like: "Piss off, I hate you!" "I hate you, too, but you´re really cute nevertheless. Mind if I shag you before I piss off?" "Hell no, I´ve actually wanted to shag you ever since I first saw you!" "Awww- marry me?" even though they may be well-written ;D )

And now: on with the story! Enjoy!


Madam Pomfrey was relieved to hear that Draco had settled and had even taken a shower without any incidents. Harry did not tell her what had transpired between him and the Slytherin, of course.

The Healer noticed that Draco seemed a little restless, but assumed that he was just tired of having to stay in bed now that he was getting better. She was very strict about it, however, and did not make exceptions, as she didn´t want to risk a relapse.

Harry´s and Draco´s relationship changed very subtly. Harry knew that Draco needed a lot of time to process the circumstances that life had thrown in him, including what was going on between them. He was very quiet, often sitting with a book on his lap but gazing ahead, evidently lost in thought.

The books were a good distraction nevertheless: even though he still had nightmares in varying degrees of intensity, he liked to occupy himself with whatever he was reading. Harry didn´t know many of the books Madam Pomfrey had brought, since most of them had been written by witches or wizards, but Draco usually told him what they were about, and they sometimes discussed the stories.

Apart from that, they did homework; as Draco didn´t have his school things with him, they shared Harry´s books, parchment and quills. It had the advantage that they could help each other, and Harry wondered what Hermione would say about this.

Even though they didn´t kiss again, something Harry sometimes found hard to maintain, they often snuggled up with each other and not only when Draco had been scared out of sleep by the memories that kept haunting him. It was impossible to be confined to the same small room without seeking each other´s closeness.

At first, Harry thought it was only him, but Draco sought his touch as well. An atmosphere of quiet contentment and happiness that didn´t seem to have anything to do with real life prevailed in the room, despite the horrors Draco had to relive in his dreams.
Not even Harry´s presence could entirely stave them off, although Draco wasn´t as afraid to go to sleep as he had been for a while, for he knew Harry was there for him to wake him up and calm him in case he was panicking.

He often thought he probably shouldn´t feel that happy, and wondered that he was able to at all, but it was there, undeniably, helping him through the darkness that often haunted him.

And Harry felt less restless; after he had gotten back at the start of the summer break he had hardly been able to wait until the new school year would begin, so that he would be able to return to the wizarding world and learn any news about Voldemort, but right now he caught himself relishing in the peaceful quiet he and Draco were enjoying, despite their confinement.

He missed being able to go out, of course, and playing Quidditch above all, but at the same time knew it would never again be like this, not at school.
Sometimes they lay awake at night, waiting for Draco to stop trembling and for the darkness to lose its threat; Harry usually began talking about random topics then in order to distract Draco, and sometimes they would stay awake until dawn then, or even laugh, or allow their whispered conversation to slowly drift off into sleep, leaving the words lingering in their minds.

They gradually learned more and more about each other during those nightly conversations; it was easier to make confessions in the dark, Harry thought, for example when Draco asked him what the funny device in the door was.

Harry told him how his uncle had built in the cat flap two summers ago and for what purpose, and Draco admitted that it reminded him of how his father had threatened the house-elves in front of him every time Draco had done something which had earned him punishment; if they had dared to help him in any way, they would have been killed.
“He always treated them like dirt,” he said in a choked voice. “But in those cases it was worst. He did kill one once...”
He broke off, trembling. Harry nodded helplessly, not knowing what to say; he could easily imagine that, having witnessed Lucius Malfoy with Dobby.

One morning, Madam Pomfrey arrived together with Remus, who laughed about the bemused look on Harry´s face: “It seems you haven´t been keeping track with the date,” he said. “Happy Birthday, Harry!”

Harry blushed: how could he possibly have forgotten about his own birthday? “Oh...right,” he said, “I hadn´t thought... thanks!”
Unexpectedly, Remus pulled him into a hug: “From Snuffles,” he said in an untertone. “He sends his best wishes.”

Harry´s heart leapt- he had never gotten a hug for his birthday! And that wasn´t all he got; while Madam Pomfrey congratulated him as well, Remus quickly piled up presents on his desk.

He then turned back to Harry, beaming: “They all have cards on them, so you know who sent you what,” he said. “And Molly sends you the cake as well.”
Harry´s eyes strayed over to the cake which he hadn´t properly noticed before, and smiled as he thought of Mrs. Weasley.
“Thank you,” he said, overwhelmed. “That´s the first time I ever had a table with presents laid out on them.” Lupin eyed him sympathetically and smiled: “Go on, then, open them!”


While Harry was occupied with his presents, Madam Pomfrey tended to Draco. He looked somewhat sad, she thought, but altogether not as poorly as he had so far.
His injuries were nearly healed, and his face had regained some colour: he looked merely pale, not ashen as before.
“Well... I must say I am astounded by the rather quick rate of your recovery,” she said after she had finished examining and treating him, evidently pleased: “it is rather uncommon for magically induced wounds and... wounds of that severity. If you feel up to it, you may get up from now on, dear.”

Draco´s face lit up: “Really?”

She nodded, giving him a stern look: “No exertion whatsoever, and you still need a lot of rest and good food. I´ll be hearing about any infringements!”
She smiled at the last words, however, and Draco felt utterly relieved. If he wanted to get his strength back, he had to have the opportunity to at least get up and walk a few steps, hadn´t he?

“Ah, Poppy,” Remus said, spotting that the Healer had finished and was packing her bag, “I was hoping you and Mr Malfoy might join us in a little celebration.” He pulled four butterbeers out from underneath his tattered cloak.
Madam Pomfrey looked uncertain for a moment, then turned around to Draco: “Well, I guess it won´t harm you,” she said and, to Harry´s and Lupin´s surprise, extended one hand.

Draco hesitantly took it, quickly scrambled out from underneath the blankets and let her help him stand. He swayed only minutely and couldn´t but beam at the others, blushing at the same time, when the Healer announced that she had allowed him to get up.

They uncorked the butterbeers and raised their bottles, toasting to Harry and Draco´s recovery. Both boys kept blushing; Draco not only because he suddenly found himself in the centre of attention, but also because he well remembered his former behaviour towards Lupin and felt ashamed. While the others merrily chatted away, he kept contemplating it in his mind.
Taking a deep breath, he decided that he could as well now start what he had promised himself to do: “Mr Lupin,” he said, his voice sounding thin and shaky, “I- I need to say something.”

He noticed the surprised look on everybody´s faces, but quickly continued before his courage could leave him: “I know I have been badmouthing and... and abusing you all the time during... during your time as a teacher. I w-would like to apologize.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Lupin smiled at him and stretched out his hand: “Never mind,” he said lightly. “Thank you, I appreciate this.”

Draco´s knees were shaking so badly by now that he quickly made it back to the bed. Sinking onto the mattress, he looked up to find Harry´s gaze lingering upon him- he beamed at Draco with something akin to pride in his eyes, and nodded minutely. Draco, feeling as though he had run a hundred miles, gave a sigh of relief. That hadn´t been too bad.


Later, after Lupin and Madam Pomfrey had left, Harry sat down on his desk chair and looked at his presents, but his mind was elsewhere: Draco had lain down on the bed and curled up, he seemed to have dozed off.

Harry took Ron´s card in his hand: apparently, Ron was still trying to comprehend what was happening, as he encouraged Harry to sweat it out: “I reckon he´s in pretty bad shape, but if he gets back to his old self once he´s better, just don´t let him get to you, mate. In a few weeks you´ll get rid of him anyway...”

Harry smiled, shaking his head. Don´t let him get to you clearly had not worked so far, he thought.

He opened the book Hermione had given him, Famous Quidditch Seekers and their Rise to Fame, and looked at the pictures; people were beaming and waving at him, and he suddenly felt a strong yearning to belong.

He didn´t want to pay the wizarding world merely visits, he wanted to live in it completely. He wanted to have a family who didn´t consider it weird to use fireplaces as a means of traveling.

That thought didn´t have as much sting as he had had before, now that he looked up and saw the presents from his friends and Sirius, but it still pained him, even if it was much more than he had ever had before. He wanted to have a real family, someone who belonged to him...


After contemplating this for a while, he got up and leaned over the sleeping form on the bed: Draco´s face was half-buried into the sheet, his mouth slightly open, one hand curled up next to his forehead. Harry suddenly felt a great affection for him.
Cautiously, so as not to wake Draco, he lowered himself down on the bed behind him and wrapped his arm around him. Taking a deep breath, he let the feeling of contentment he experienced every time he did this overwhelm him. He felt complete, accomplished, with this particular person, this warm body in his arms.

Draco subconsciously snuggled closer to him, his breath ghosting over Harry´s wrist, causing a pleasant shiver to run down the Gryffindor´s spine.

Harry closed his eyes, being happy- this was the best birthday he had ever had.


He woke up at dusk, confused at first, not certain which day it was and how he had gotten there, until he felt the gentle motion of Draco´s belly underneath his arm as the blond was breathing slowly.

He was awake, however, as Harry could see his eyelashes move every time he blinked. Harry´s hand, unthinkingly, found Draco´s, and their fingers curled up around each other´s, before Draco pulled it up to his face and nuzzled his cheek against the back of Harry´s hand.

Distangling his fingers, he reached out and pulled something out from underneath the pillow next to his. Slowly, he turned around in Harry´s arms until they were facing each other.

He studied the Gryffindor´s face for a moment, overwhelmed by the fondness he read in Harry´s eyes: “Do they always ignore your birthday?” he asked so very softly that it was almost a whisper, his voice throaty.

Harry immediately knew that he was talking about the Dursleys: “Most of the time,” he replied, equally low. “I don´t care, though.”
His eyes told Draco that this was true, that it didn´t matter to Harry anymore wether the Dursleys cared or not.

“They have never really been your family, have they?” the Slytherin asked.

“No,” for some reason, Harry smiled. “they have just been an annoyance. We tolerated each other, is all.”

“You don´t deserve that,” Draco whispered. “You are such a good person...”

At the same moment, Harry felt Draco´s fingertips brush against his hand, caressing it before applying gentle pressure until Harry´s fingers uncurled.
Something was slipped into them, then Draco´s fingers disappeared: “Happy Birthday, Harry,” he whispered, the smallest of smiles lighting his face for a few precious seconds.

Harry looked down and opened his hand: a small bird made of parchment was lying in his hand. It shimmered in the approaching darkness that was beginning to fill the room, replacing the twilight that inhered in the dusk.

He brought it before his eyes to examine it more closely: it was delicate, its tiny wings spreading out as if ready to fly.
He looked from the bird to Draco in awe: “How did you make this without using magic?” he whispered.

Draco blushed furiously, even though his face suddenly looked sad: “One of the house-elves taught me when I was younger and had been locked into my room as punishment,” he whispered. “That´s what my father killed him for... said he didn´t approve of Muggle pastimes, and besides, the elf had made me laugh, tried to cheer me up...”
His voice gave out.

“I am sorry,” Harry said, stricken, wondering why Draco had made this for him when it bore such a sad memory.

“It´s okay,” Draco said, though slightly choked, as if he had read Harry´s thoughts. “Remembering the past is helping to overcome it, right? He... he makes me so angry... Maybe if I am furious enough I will forget my fear...” he added, trying to sound brave.

Harry´s heart beat so rapidly that he could feel it in his throat, and he would have loved to kiss Draco right there, right then. He had rarely before talked so openly about Lucius.

With his free hand, he found Draco´s and squeezed it: “Yes,” he said simply. “Maybe.”

He looked at the bird again, now having understood what it meant: the will to persevere. They were not going to be killed like the elf.

That night, Harry awoke when Draco began to whimper: “Dad...,” he sobbed, despair evident in his voice, “No, Dad, please don´t... please...”
Harry had heard this before, but it broke his heart anew every time. He reached out for Draco, who had gotten up on his knees , still fast asleep, and was pressing back against the wall as if seeking to escape, cowering low and shaking terribly.
“Wake up, Draco,” Harry soothed, “he is not here, it´s all right... you´ll be okay, I´m here with you, it´s me, Harry...”
Draco complied, not fully waking up, but coming out of his panic.

It took some time until he was coherent enough to let himself be coaxed to lie back down onto the mattress.

Gently, Harry pulled him into his arms, talking to him relentlessly, until Draco had come to lie on his stomach, half of his body on Harry´s, who gently stroked his head in order to comfort him, all the while whispering nonsense into his ear.
Once the shaking had abated, Harry reinforced his embrace. He could feel Draco´s heart flutter against his ribs like a little bird against the bars of its cage, still on the run.


When Harry awoke in the following morning, they were still lying in the exact same position; Draco was still asleep, his face nuzzled into Harry´s neck, his body draped over the Gryffindor´s and their legs entwined.

Harry relished in the warm weight of the other and the soft breath against his skin, yet to his horror he discovered that he had a hard-on which was currently pressing into Draco´s hip.

Harry very nearly squirmed at this, afraid that he might scare the Slytherin with it.

Cautiously, thus agonizingly slowly in order not to wake the other, he slid out from under him, determined to make it to the bathroom. He had nearly succeeded when Draco stirred.

“Be right back,” Harry whispered, cautiously easing the blond boy off him, then dashed out of the room.

When he came back, looking flushed, Draco had sat up and was staring ahead bleary-eyed. He was tousled and looked relieved to see Harry, who slipped back into bed with him, glad to have avoided any misunderstandings.

How could this have happened, he asked himself, blushing furiously. He could not be lusting after someone who needed him, who needed a person he could trust.

Draco however had not noticed his distress and had dozed off again, safely nestled against Harry´s chest. Harry did not want him to lose this.

It was not in their power to stop time from flying, however. One morning, Professor Dumbledore accompanied Madam Pomfrey once more, to talk about the coming school year´s arrangements after the Healer would have tended to Draco.
Who couldn´t subdue a feeling of dread at this, but Harry managed to calm him: “You´ll be okay,” he said quietly when he saw the timid look on Draco´s face, “I´ll be there as well, remember?”


Dumbledore smiled benignly at Draco: “You will be pleased to hear that Professor Snape has managed to successfully brew a large amount of Polyjuice Potion,” he said, “and he has also informed me that he has managed to modify it to the effect that you will have to take it merely once per day, not on an hourly basis. Which should prevent attracting too much attention on yourself.”

Draco nodded, dazed: “Who will be with me?” he asked.

“An Auror called Malcolm McIver,” Dumbledore replied, “you are going to meet him soon.”

“That´s a Scottish name,” Harry said, “won´t it be noticed if has an accent?”

“He doesn´t have one,” Dumbledore assured him. “Believe me, he is well-trained.”

He turned to Draco: “Since it is merely two weeks until the new term starts, we will have to make arrangements soon. You are going to have to leave here in order to spend the remaining time with Mr. McIver and get acquainted with him as well as your new identity.”

Draco exchanged a glance with Harry, and the Gryffindor noticed the alarmed expression on the blond boy´s face: “W-where am I going?” he asked.

“I am afraid I cannot not tell you,” Dumbledore answered, “but rest assured that it is a safe location.”

Harry´s and Draco´s eyes met again; this time, there was an unmistakable plea in Draco´s gaze: “But H-harry...” he muttered, never taking his eyes off the other boy.

Dumbledore watched them attentively: “I know that you feel safe with Harry,” he said very kindly. “It is however of the utmost importance that both of you arrive in Hogwarts not only unharmed but first and foremost not at the same time. We cannot afford for anyone to make a connection between you two. That is why you and your will arrive a few days after the term has already started.”

Draco had hardly heard him; he had gone pale and his eyes were fixed on Harry, who had taken the blond´s hand in his.

The old Headmaster leaned forward: “Draco,” he said quietly but with a voice that demanded attention.

Draco eventually looked at him, wide-eyed and fearful. He had know that the day would come, but he hadn´t expected that the prospect of leaving Harry´s shelter would be so scaring.

“I know this is a lot to ask of you,” Dumbledore continued in the same gentle voice, even though it had an insistent undertone now, “once school has started, your cover must stand! I told you about the Ministry- they will do everything to try and interfere at Hogwarts from now on, and we cannot trust anyone. Thus, it is unavoidable that you go and spend the next two weeks with Mr. McIver. You must make sure you are sufficiently familiar with your role, do you understand?”

Draco slowly nodded. “I do,” he said in a low, hollow voice. He felt Harry´s hand squeeze his own and tried to pull himself together.
He had begun trying to be strong. He couldn´t back down now, could he?

Drawing a shaky breath, he straightened up a bit: “Thank you, sir,” he said, meeting Dumbledore´s twinkling gaze.

The Headmaster inclined his head: “I offered you protection,” he said quietly, a serious smile playing across his features. “I intend to keep my word.”

To Be Continued
PS: I´m away next week, so the next update might take a little longer than usual. But don´t worry- I´ll be back!