To Love Again

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Potterverse or the song used in this chapter, which is "Always" by Bon Jovi.

Draco was tired. Bloody tired. His muscles ached from the strenuous workout he'd received in Harry's bed last night, not to mention the way his eyes kept fogging up from lack of sleep. But as he ate breakfast in his usual spot at the Slytherin table, he just couldn't hide the naughty smirk that played upon his lips. His cheeks flushed slightly upon remembering his unforgettable night with Harry, then his smile widened even more at the thought of their encore performance before breakfast this morning. The blond Slytherin glanced across the room at Harry from behind his glass of pumpkin juice, and exchanged a meaningful look with the sexy Gryffindor. They'd shared something special; their first time...and now they were even closer than ever.

Draco could feel those dazzling green eyes on him as an owl dropped an unmarked letter in front of his place at the table. Certain that it was from Harry, he quickly snatched it up and opened it under the table, so that nobody would see who it was from. His heart skipped a beat as soon as he saw Harry's handwriting on the page:


Draco My Love,

Please meet me again tonight in the Room of Requirement, seven o' clock. I won't be able to come to your common room this time, but you still have my Invisibility Cloak, so please wear it for protection. I'll be waiting.

HP


The Slytherin's day seemed to drag on forever. He was counting down the hours and minutes until he could see his beloved Gryffindor again, not even hearing his professors as they talked about when and where the seventh years would be taking their N.E.W.T.s, and oblivious to discussions of material that would most likely show up on the exam. He wasn't that worried anyway; whenever he wasn't with Harry, he was studying. Besides, he'd always been an outstanding student. So he allowed himself the luxury of thinking about his boyfriend while the other students were taking notes.

As soon as it was close to time for his meeting with Harry, Draco threw on the Invisibility Cloak and dashed through the castle to the seventh floor as quickly as he could. When Draco entered the room, he didn't see any signs of Harry. In fact, the room was completely empty; no furniture or anything. Why would anybody summon this room if they weren't going to make good use of it?, Draco wondered as he looked around at the plain walls and cold stone floor. And if Harry didn't open the room, then who did?

As if in response to his wonderings, Draco heard footsteps coming up behind him. Assuming it was Harry, he turned around with a smile and jokingly said, "Harry? There you are, you sneaky little..." The smile faded, his eyes widening with terror. "Father?"

Draco was bewildered to see Lucius Malfoy standing before him. The middle-aged man, once so handsome and noble, looked like a ragged mess. His clothes were tattered and torn, and he looked as though he'd aged about thirty years. His long blond hair, once so graceful and flowing, was now matted down and dirty. His skin was sallow and deathly pale, dark circles under his icy grey eyes making them look sunken in. Draco had always thought of his father as rather intimidating, but now he was downright frightening.

"What's the matter, blood traitor? Not happy to see your father?" Lucius's sneer revealed yellowed, rotting teeth.

Draco's first thought was that Lucius must've done something terrible to Harry when the Gryffindor arrived for their meeting. Anger overriding his initial fear, the blond boy whipped out his wand, pointing it at his father's chest. "What did you do with him? Where is he?" demanded Draco.

A demonic smirk spread over Lucius' once-charming face. "You actually thought that Potter wrote that letter? It wasn't him, you moron, it was me! Did you really think that I would simply go away after disinheriting you? I'm not through with you yet, Draco!"

Draco's face was fearless and determined as he spat, "What do you want, Father?"

"Want?" Lucius' raucous, evil laughter stung Draco's eardrums until the man's demented smile curled up into a haughty sneer. "You know me well, blood traitor."

Draco's eyes widened as he watched his father pull a very long dagger from its holster. The meticulously sharpened blade gleamed blindingly in the sunlight coming from the window, making the young man cringe. Fear froze him to his spot on the floor, helplessness flooding him as he watched Lucius approach with the knife handle clenched tightly in his fingers. Then Lucius paused before him, looming larger than life.

"I was going to kill you, cut you limb from limb and watch your blood come oozing out of that lily white skin of yours," Lucius curled his lips with disdain. He smirked arrogantly, a threatening gleam in those cold wintry eyes. "But now, I've come up with another, better way to punish you for disgracing the Malfoy name."

Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously; the boy had a feeling that this 'plan' of his somehow involved Harry. "Do what you will with me, Father, but leave Harry alone!"

"Well look at you, acting all brave and self-righteous," Lucius hissed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That foolish boyfriend of yours has had a bad influence on you, Draco. And you will rid yourself of him!"

"No, I will not!"

The elder Malfoy's eyes flashed dangerously as he grabbed his son by the collar. "What did you say?"

Draco was scared, but stood his ground. He looked Lucius squarely in the eyes and shouted back, "I will not rid myself of Harry! I love him, and I will never do anything to hurt him! And if you ever so much as touch a hair on his head, I'll kill you!"

Lucius gave Draco a look of disgust and contempt before forcefully throwing him several feet, causing the boy to fall on his arse when he hit the ground. The elder man took advantage of his son's vulnerable position, pulling out his wand and charging at him, ready to strike. "Standing up to your old man, eh, Draco? I didn't know you had it in you. In fact, I never knew that one day you'd have Potter in you! If I'd known that, I would've finished you off a long time ago when I killed your dear, sweet mum."

"You killed Mum?" An overwhelming rage like nothing Draco had ever felt before flooded him, propelling him off the floor as he pointed his wand threateningly at Lucius. This bastard he'd looked up to as a child took his mum from him? And now he was planning to do Merlin-knows-what to Harry? Channeling all of his anger and hate, Draco lifted his wand and bellowed, "Cruc-"

"-Expelliarmus!"

Draco's wand flew out of his hand before he could finish the curse. He turned his back just for a brief second to retrieve his wand, which proved to be a bad move. The next thing he heard was his father's voice yelling, "Imperio!"
__________________________________________________________

Draco woke up the next morning, dread filling him as he replayed his surprise meeting with Lucius in his mind. Try as he did to fight the Imperius Curse that Lucius placed on him, Draco simply didn't know how to shake it off. During his training with Harry, the young Slytherin had never practiced resisting the Imperius; he didn't think he'd ever need to know how to do that. But now, as Lucius directed him to an abandoned classroom like a puppet on a string, he wished to Merlin that he could fight it.

Last night after performing the Imperius Curse on Draco, Lucius had forced Draco to write a letter to Harry, requesting a private meeting before breakfast. The boy didn't want to write this letter, because he knew that meeting with the Gryffindor would mean losing the love of his life. But now, the letter had been sent, and he was just a few steps away from the room where Harry waited for him. The Slytherin's body jerked as he attempted to stop in his tracks outside the door, but the curse was too strong, and he felt his disobedient legs carry him forward into the room.

As soon as Harry heard the door open, he turned, his face lighting up at the sight of Draco standing there. He hurried over to the Slytherin and wrapped him in a warm embrace, placing a 'hello' kiss on Draco's lips. The blond boy could feel his own heart starting to break as he heard his voice snap, "Don't touch me!" Oh Harry, I'm so sorry...

Taken aback by Draco's icy greeting, the Gryffindor stepped back, smile fading and eyes widening with surprise. His brow furrowed as he whispered, "What?"

Read my eyes, Harry, please! Don't listen to my voice, listen to my eyes! Lucius could control Draco's words and actions, but he couldn't control the boy's pleading grey orbs. Draco didn't want to do this to Harry, and the strength of his emotions allowed him to cry despite the curse inflicted upon him. The Slytherin hoped against hope that Harry would notice the pain and tears there, and figure out that somebody was controlling him. Draco felt sick to his stomach as his voice coldly hissed, "I said don't touch me, Potter!"

"What...Potter?" Harry stammered. "Why are you being like this?"

"Because it's over, Potter! I'm finished with this, this thing between us!," spat Draco's voice, which was no longer his own. It hurt like hell to say such terrible things to his only love. His hatred for his father was growing by the second. Oh Harry, if only you knew. If only you could read my mind...

"This thing?" echoed Harry, his voice cracking under the strain of his pending tears. "I thought we had something special, Draco! I thought you loved me!"

I do love you, Harry! I'll never stop loving you! "Well you thought wrong, Potter. Why would I ever fall in love with someone like you? You're pathetic!" Words couldn't describe the unbearable agony Draco felt as he watched the Gryffindor--and his relationship--start to crumble before his very eyes. He knew full well that there was not a damn thing he could do to stop his father from ruining what he'd worked so hard for all these months. He wanted more than anything to break free of this godforsaken curse and set things right with Harry. Why couldn't you just Avada me, father? That at least would've been less painful!

"Draco, let's talk about this." Harry started to guide him over to a couple of chairs, but the Slytherin's arm involuntarily jerked out of his grasp.

"We have nothing more to discuss, Potter. I don't love you, and I never want to see you again!"

That did it. Harry was never one to cry in front of others, but he couldn't hold back any longer. He felt like he was reliving his Boggart incident from a few months ago, only this time it was for real. The Slytherin's harsh words were like a million little pieces of broken glass, slicing Harry's heart to shreds slowly and painfully. As Draco stood before him, Harry could've sworn the Slytherin's eyes seemed to be contradicting the cutting remarks that spat from his lips, almost as if it wasn't really Draco talking. Then he told himself that it was just wishful thinking on his part; Draco wouldn't say these things if he didn't mean them.

"Please, Draco, tell me why you're doing this! I don't understand!"

With teary eyes and a forced sneer, Draco's voice coldly replied, "Well then maybe you'll understand this!" Harry wordlessly watched as Draco took his own strip of carnival pictures from the inside pocket of his robes, and removed the dragon talisman from around his neck. The Slytherin's movements were hesitant, his arms jerking violently as if he was struggling to regain control over his limbs. Those soft, pale hands seemed reluctant to release the objects, which fell to the floor at Harry's feet.

After Draco turned and left the room, Harry fell to his knees on the floor. He picked up the pictures and the dragon amulet, which was still warm from Draco's body heat, and clutched them to his chest as he sobbed uncontrollably. He remained here, alone and shattered on the floor, for the rest of the morning.

Harry was unusually withdrawn and moody during lunch. Ron and Hermione tried not to stare, but as always, they could tell something was bothering him.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione sounded like a doting mother as she reached up to feel Harry's forehead.

Annoyed, Harry pushed her hand away and glared at her. He knew his friends were wondering why his eyes and nose were red and puffy. He certainly wasn't going to tell them the truth; that he'd been crying over Draco Malfoy. "Look, I'm just feeling a bit under the weather. I'll be fine."

Hermione frowned worriedly. "I don't know, Harry. You look awful! I've never seen you like this before. Maybe you should go to the hospital wing."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Don't worry, mate. We'll take notes for you and help you study when you're feeling better."

Harry left the lunch table, willing himself not to look in Draco's direction as he exited the Great Hall. He was a bit relieved that Hermione had given him a reasonable excuse to skip his afternoon classes and be alone to stew on his sudden and abrupt break-up.
The Gryffindor passed up the hospital wing in favor of his bedchamber, where he curled up under the covers with Draco's things, and cried himself to sleep.

This romeo is bleeding
But you can't see his blood
The next couple of days crawled by at a snail's pace, further dragging out Harry's anguish over his lost love. Harry was in so much emotional pain right now, to the extent that it felt almost like he was bleeding internally. But he didn't want Hermione or Ron to give him any more concerned looks or ask any more questions, so he did his best to act as if nothing was wrong. That was kind of hard to do when it seemed that everywhere he looked, there Draco was; in the library, in the Great Hall, on the Hogwarts grounds... He was constantly reminded of the beautiful blond and what they once had. Because Harry refused to let himself cry in front of his friends and the other students, it felt like he was drowning on the inside.

It's been raining since you left me
Now I'm drowning in the flood

When the Gryffindor went to take the written portion of his exams the next day, he was rather surprised to find Draco sitting a couple of rows ahead of him, where he was in plain view from Harry's desk. This would be so much easier if I didn't have to see him, Harry frowned to himself. Swallowing his tears, he distracted himself by gazing quietly at the test administrator, a scrawny old wizard with bushy grey hair and a mustache similar to his Uncle Vernon's.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." The test administrator addressed the room full of chattering seventh years. "My name is Master O'Donahue, and I will be supervising this examination today. In just a moment, you will begin taking your History of Magic test..."
Harry tuned out the elderly wizard's voice and stared at Draco, wondering what the Slytherin was thinking about. Was he thinking of Harry? Missing him? Longing to reconcile? The Gryffindor sighed and frowned as Master O'Donahue discussed testing rules and regulations, then revealed the exam questions with the wave of his wand.

The exam began, as did the sound of quill pens scratching against parchment. Harry did his best to concentrate, but he was quite distracted by the back of the Slytherin's pale blond head, those silky locks gleaming angelically in the golden light that streamed through the windows. After several moments, the Gryffindor finally forced himself to turn his attention back to the empty piece of parchment before him, dipping his quill in ink and scrawling out a few sentences about the Great Wizarding War of 1476. Try as he did to focus on the exam and refrain from crying, tears soon blurred his vision and a single teardrop leaked out, running down the brunette's smooth cheek and landing smack dab in the middle of his parchment, smearing a good portion of what he'd already written.

I can't do this, Harry thought to himself with an exasperated groan. If only he could have peace of mind again--the calming effect that always came from spending time with his love--he could get through this stressful exam. But now that a large chunk of his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on, nothing seemed to matter anymore. After raising his hand and allowing Master O'Donahue to collect his paper, Harry dejectedly headed back to his bedroom in Gryffindor Tower.

You see I've always been a fighter
But without you I give up

Luckily, all of his roommates were still testing, which gave Harry the freedom to release all those pent up emotions without fear of being intruded upon. He couldn't turn off these feelings if he wanted to. Then again, if it was easy to just eliminate that love, it wouldn't be real, would it? He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. Try as he did to hate Draco for breaking his heart, he just couldn't go back to loathing the Slytherin; not after everything they'd been through together. Hell, Draco could burn down Hogwarts and rob Harry of his possessions, and the Gryffindor would still love him. Regardless of the terrible things Draco had said, Harry realized that he'd always be there for the Slytherin; ready to take him back.

And I will love you, baby - Always
And I'll be there forever and a day - Always
I'll be there till the stars don't shine
Till the heavens burst and
The words don't rhyme
And I know when I die, you'll be on my mind
And I'll love you - Always

With shaky hands, Harry took Draco's book of folk tales out of his bedside table, another tear streaming down his already wet cheek as he opened the cover and saw the strip of carnival pictures from the Slytherin's birthday; the pictures Draco had thrown on the floor just a few days ago. The Muggle style images portrayed two young men in love; two boys who looked as though they hadn't a care in the world. Harry smiled ever so slightly through his tears at the funny faces they were making, and the fond memories of that special day.

Then pain stabbed through his heart again when his tear-filled eyes fell upon the bottom image, the photograph of Draco surprising him with a kiss. He remembered that kiss as if it had happened yesterday, but these pictures now seemed like remnants from a past life full of love and happiness; a life that no longer belonged to Harry.

Why did you leave me, Draco?, Harry felt like screaming at the handsome blond in the images. Why?

Now your pictures that you left behind
Are just memories of a different life
...what made you have to say goodbye

Harry reluctantly closed the book with a sigh and returned it to its secret place in his top drawer. He knew it didn't do a damn bit of good to keep staring at the photos of Draco; they just made him ache even more for the Slytherin. He closed his eyes and remembered with vivid detail how those silky blond tresses felt between his fingers, those wonderfully soft lips pressed up against his, Draco's strong arms making him feel loved and protected.

Perhaps it was my fault, Harry wondered to himself. He couldn't remember ever doing anything that would give Draco a reason to leave, but maybe he somehow hurt the Slytherin without meaning to? If that was the case, then Harry hoped that Draco would be able to forgive him. As much as the wizarding world liked to put Harry on a pedestal, the truth was that the Boy Who Lived was...just a boy. And boys make mistakes sometimes. He just wished he knew for sure what it was he did, if anything.

What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair
To touch your lips, to hold you near
When you say your prayers try to understand
I've made mistakes, I'm just a man
__________________________________________________________

Stop staring at him, you fool! The man who now controlled Draco forced him to look away from where Harry sat, doing his best to avoid the Slytherin's gaze. Draco stared down at his half-eaten dinner, wondering if perhaps someone had placed a memory charm on him. He could no longer remember exactly who was controlling his mind or what had happened between himself and the Gryffindor, but he knew something was terribly wrong.
His hand instinctively reached up to where his treasured dragon amulet once hung beneath his school robes, and his heart ached; it was no longer there. He wasn't sure how he'd lost the amulet, but he thought he vaguely recalled dropping it when he last spoke to Harry.

For the past few days, Draco had felt an unbearable void in his heart, like something he cherished deeply was missing...and that something had just gotten up from the Gryffindor table and hurried out the entryway, Granger hot on his trail. Although the person controlling him wouldn't allow him to lift his head to see Harry leave, he still managed to watch the Gryffindor out of the corner of his eye. He wanted urgently to run after the dark-haired boy and speak to him, but the curse held him down, cemented to his place at the Slytherin table.

"I hope you're happy, Hermione," Harry muttered under his breath the next afternoon as he begrudgingly entered the Great Hall for his oral exam. He was in no shape to be taking the N.E.W.T.s--and he knew he'd just start crying again if he saw Draco--so he tried to get out of finishing his examination. But when Harry was about to bite into a Puking Pastille, Hermione snuck up behind him and snatched it out of his hand, then proceeded to lecture him about the importance of the N.E.W.T.s.

"This is not something to be taken lightly, Harry," she had wagged her finger in his face like a reprimanding parent. "You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to use one of Fred and George's gags to get out of the N.E.W.T.s..."

After Hermione was finally done telling Harry off, she wouldn't let Harry out of her sight for fear that he'd purposely miss the exams, thus ruining his future. The Chosen One sighed to himself; he knew she had his best interests at heart.

Harry saw several important-looking witches and wizards sitting behind desks, which were lined up across the empty Great Hall floor. It wasn't easy to concentrate on his exam instead of dwelling on his broken heart, but Hermione's scolding words from the previous evening kept echoing through his head, urging him on and driving him to do his best.

Finally, after successfully demonstrating a variety of magical self-defense techniques, transfiguration spells and creating a satisfactory potion, the Gryffindor came to the last desk in the room. Here sat an Auror that Harry had never seen before; an attractive young man in his early twenties. The Auror was about to ask Harry the very last question; the one that would complete his examination once and for all.

"I understand that you wish to become an Auror, Mr. Potter?" asked the young man behind the desk.

Harry nodded, "Yes, sir."

"And you are familiar with the three Unforgivable Curses?"

"Yes, sir," Harry repeated. "They are the Killing Curse, the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperius Curse."

The young man nodded, looking impressed with Harry's answer, then leaned forward in his chair. With a serious expression, he asked, "Tell me, Mr. Potter, how can you tell if someone is under the Imperius Curse?"

Harry tried not to think about Draco, but visions of the blond Slytherin--and their last meeting--flashed before his eyes. He remembered the way Draco had moved when he let his amulet fall to the floor with an echoing clatter. Holding back his tears, Harry replied, "Well...when someone's been inflicted with the Imperius Curse, you might notice stiff, jerking motions, as if the inflicted is trying to regain control over his limbs."

The Auror nodded, "All right, what other ways can you tell if someone is under the Imperius?"

The Gryffindor recalled all those hurtful words that spouted from Draco's lips, and the look in his eyes as he watched Harry break down. With a gulp to keep the lump in his throat from growing, Harry responded, "The inflicted might do or say things that sound like they're coming from another source; as if the words aren't really theirs. Sometimes, the eyes will contradict what is being said..."

Harry stopped speaking, realization dawning on him. Oh, Merlin, why didn't I see it before? Draco is under the Imperius Curse!

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," the Auror interrupted Harry's train of thought. "You're free to go now."

"Thank you, sir." Harry exited the Great Hall knowing that his boyfriend was inflicted with the curse. Of course that would explain his bizarre behavior, and the way he suddenly turned on Harry...and the Gryffindor was certain that the person who placed the curse on Draco, was the same person who tried to attack him.