Misery and Grief

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I lost the file half way through (liked the first draft better, to be honest) and it took me awhile to get back in the rhythm of things... A little more drama, a little less danger in this chapter. More crazy shit to come.

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Molly had only wrote him to stay at Draco's side. Harry, despite his enjoyment for doing things the 'muggle-way' while in his own home, had instead incorporated magic and Kreacher, who he had told to work at Hogwarts while Draco was here, to get things done around the house. He wasn't sure that the blonde even realized he was there, in fact he was sure of it. He made sure the boy ate well, but was stricken at just how serious this was when Draco didn't bother to the next morning after they had laid in the bed together - Draco sleeping only a little and fitfully, Harry not sleeping at all.

Harry was pretty sure it didn't have to hurt so much to watch someone be blank like this. Certainly Draco was suffering, quiet and rolled up into himself throughout the night, not even touching Harry. It would be a lie if he wasn't upset about that. It was selfish, he knew it, but Harry wished that Draco would touch him again and talk to him and pick on him. Hell, right now he'd even take a few swings towards his constantly repaired glasses. Silence thudded painfully in his ears as he watched the boy desperately, making him eat, but he didn't bother trying to change his clothes or showering him. One, it would be awkward and two, he didn't really mind if Draco was the way he would be if he let things be a little more natural. He considered how many of his daily rituals had been ingrained into him, like the pride of the bloodline. The same way a showdog can't just have good breeding, but should be trained to sit on command. Harry frowned at these types of thoughts, half at his reaction to everything over the time the two had known each other. Sometimes it seemed that Draco's eyes would become clearer until he noticed Harry and then they would fog back over a bit. While the brunette would love to believe that he was hoping Harry was there and glad to see he hadn't left and felt secure, he had a feeling that Draco was seeing if his former rival was not there so he could do something that Harry didn't even want to think about.

He lasted another day of this, two days in total, before Molly actually showed up. After all, she had her family to take care of and the order and being poor but making do was no easy chore. However, she did come because, as Harry knew, she was a dependable woman. Someone who, despite his dislike for asking help on anything, would help him without question and thoroughly for his happiness. He was grateful that she had just let herself in, while he had always been upset at Ron's barging, because they were both sitting in Draco's room. Draco was at the desk, looking out the window at muggles but not really seeing them, while Harry was sitting on the bed watching Draco. She came in and smiled at Harry but didn't speak before she walked over to where Draco was sitting. She pulled herself a seat and looked at the boy momentarily before putting her hand on his.

Draco jumped, obviously not expecting the touch but probably imagining the wrong things to be touched. He was about to scream at Molly before he realized it wasn't Harry he was looking at. Instead, Harry watched as he took in the plump redhead woman with confusion. She only smiled at him lightly. For some reason, Harry expected Draco to suddenly to be bawling in her arms. Maybe it's because that's what he would do, or maybe it's because Draco had become so fragile towards him and outwardly emotional. This, however, did not happen. Instead, the blonde stared at Ron's mother unblinkingly for the longest time. Minutes passed before Molly spoke very kindly and gently, but not in any way that was actually different from her normal self. "Did you know? Harry's been watching you nonstop for two days now. He's a very sweet boy, but I've never known him to be that diligent about anything before."

Why was it that Harry heard a hint of 'especially his homework' or 'keeping to the rules' behind that? Must be his own guilt... He blushed, both at the accusations and the reminder of just how deep he was getting in here. Ignoring him, or perhaps not even noticing, she continued. "My daughter Ginny was saved by Harry, you know, from the Chamber of Secrets." Malfoy suddenly glared, not exactly at Mrs. Weasley, but at the indication of Ginny. "And yet, afterward, her and Harry resorted how they were beforehand. Nothing changed. But I have a feeling, Draco, that whatever new respect you have for one another will change your outlook on each other no matter what."

The both looked at each Harry, Draco staring almost blankly but something lurking underneath the surface. Mrs. Weasley then reached over and gave the boy a hug, which he tensed up slightly to at first and then seemed to relax quite a bit, even though he did not look away from Harry. Harry looked back, quite confused. She then stood up, patted him on the head lightly, nodded lovingly towards Harry, and showed herself out.

They stared at each other for many long moments, Harry sitting on the bed against the headboard and Draco still sitting in his chair. Draco stood up hesitantly and began to walk over, his body shaking slightly. He sat next to the boy and looked down. The brunette was about to say something, anything, but before he could, Draco practically tackled him. So hard that he hit his head on the headboard and yelped, in fact. "I'm so sorry, Potter..." The boy let out meekly and Harry was about to respond when he felt the boy break down into sobs. He noted how strange it sounded to hear his surname in such a desperate apology to himself. "I'm, so, sorry."

"Shh..." Harry said, finally recovering from the blow, he wound his arms around Draco tightly and cradled the boy that was weeping on his shoulder. He let a few moments pass before wiping disheveled hair out of the boy's eyes tenderly. "Draco..." He could feel the boy shudder at the name. It was so hard to speak, his lungs constricted. Why did it hurt so much to watch the boy cry? Why was he now himself streaming tears from his viridian eyes? His head landed lightly on the blonde hair, his own sobs matching with Draco's. It was now that Draco looked up at him with wavering grey eyes.

The blonde hadn't noticed that Harry had been crying until now, too wrapped up himself most likely, and now that he saw he was his heart dropped. Harry freaking Potter wasn't supposed to cry ever for any reason no matter what. Draco had never been able to break the boy before, and he had been actively trying, but now that he got it he didn't want it. As he moved away, scared of what laid before him, green eyes looked up at him pleadingly and confused. Draco couldn't handle it, it hurt too much. Mind racing, he did the first thing he could think about to make Harry stop crying him.

He kissed the boy.

It was forceful, and Harry hit his head again. It was desperate but not needy and both their hearts seemed heavy, as if they were weighed down, as if they were connected to each other. What was really strange, however, was that the tears from both of them only increased then, even as Draco licked Harry's lips and the darker boy obliged. It was Draco that entangled their fingers together on both hands as their tears merged at their chins. In that moment, it was beautiful. Their life story laid out in one moment; so sad, so desperate, needing love and being denied it all these years. In that instant they felt so absolutely complete and free to be their repressed selves. The pressed against eachother, Draco all but melting into Harry.

Harry couldn't help compare Draco and Cho this entire time, but now that they were kissing while crying it was so much more prevalent. Everything was so unbelievably different, like the fact that Draco didn't catch him off guard about his tears. Also, in that moment he knew that they were only thinking about each other, not the pressure put onto their lives. Cho's tears had been selfish, theirs were for the boy they were kissing. Cho's crying had torn him and her apart, Draco's was bringing them together. Of course, Cho had every reason to cry, but never more than Harry - Draco was at least on level ground with him, if not in a worse state. Their hearts both fluttered enthusiastically as they simultaneously let go of the other's hands and wrapped arms around one another, Draco's around Harry's neck and Harry's around Draco's waist.

Eventually their tears ended and their kisses became more heated. less graceful. Draco ran his hands through Harry's messy hair while Harry placed his hands on the blonde's slim hips. It was during the movement of them both trying to all but devour one another that Harry's hand quite accidentally went up Draco's shirt, touching his side ever so slightly with rough hands. Harry knew exactly what happened as Draco immediately froze, and Harry pulled away, his hands now firmly on the bed. Draco was now looking away from him, embarrassed at himself. "Sorry..." The pale boy muttered, obviously ashamed of himself.

Draco indeed was ashamed. He knew better than to think of them when Harry touched him, or he should. The Slytherin trusted Harry, really he did, as much as he didn't want to admit it. It was just that in that moment, that single caress, everything had flooded back to the forefront of his mind. He wanted to curse himself right now. How was he and Harry supposed to carry on and further things between them this way? Then he grimaced a bit, wondering when his subconscious had decided he even wanted to go further with the black haired boy. It was impossible for those grey eyes to travel back to the deep green ones, too afraid of what he might see there.

However, he had no choice when fingers laced with his again, he had to see what the other boy was doing. Smiling, that's what he was doing, smiling gently like it didn't matter at all to him that Draco was tarnished and unable to cope with being touched so intimately, even if it really wasn't. A long moment passed before Harry spoke hesitantly. "I... Don't ever apologize for anything. It's not you. It feels wrong." Draco blushed, quite aware due to Harry's own embarrassment more than anything, that this was supposed to be saying that he liked Draco just the way he was - cocky and uncaring of other people's opinions. He studied a very awkward black haired boy for a moment before smiling.

Harry was taken aback as he watched those pretty lips curl into an expression he had never seen before. Draco was smiling; genuinely, happily, sweetly. All he could do was stare, entranced, utterly amazed and bewildered and unable to deny just how beautiful Draco was. Of course, he knew that already, and he was sure Draco did too, but with a smile and having let himself go over the past two days and not as prim and proper as he was. Draco was impossibly beautiful, graceful - even if extremely bipolar once broken out of his usual sneer, which would never have happened if he hadn't been raped. Harry would never see him like this if it wasn't for those horrible acts. He almsot frowned if he wasn't frozen by the wonder that was still sitting atop of him.

It really didn't help that Draco was looking at him so joyously. It made him look positively delicious, and Harry very well couldn't attack him now because the boundary had already been set. Instead he pulled the boy close to him, the boy's smile never leaving as he himself adjusted so that he was laying sideways, arm across Harry's chest and head on his shoulder. He really was just glad that Draco didn't freak out at his touch or wasn't crying or wasn't going blank anymore. He wrapped his arm around Draco's back and laid his hand over his waist, sure to not touch skin.

They both were contemplating what exactly what was going on here. Obviously they each cared quite unnaturally for the other boy. They both knew things were getting out of control; so much so that Draco couldn't imagine himself being on his own now. Who would make him eat, who would break him out of his reverie, who would hold him during the night and make sure he didn't nightmares? He couldn't have imagined doing this with anyone, and of course least of all Harry, but now he now knew that he couldn't do it with anyone else. It would feel weird, and it wouldn't be as unbelievably special to him. The Slytherin hated how sentimental he was getting, and as such he promised himself to only let there be one person he let it be for, the one person that had ever seen it. No, Potter was the only one. He tried not to think of the implications of that. Of course, he was not alone in needing Harry. Now a girl was even more jealous than he had been the day he caused the issue in the first place. He sighed, surprisingly contentedly, into Harry's shoulder.

Harry was on the other spectrum of things. He just let his feelings come as they were and really had nothing to hide from himself, though he found himself constantly surprised. Instead, he just had to analyze how protective he was becoming over Draco, physically and emotionally. Draco had done a fairly pleasing job protecting himself from Harry's friends thus far, but he wasn't sure that the Slytherin could do that anymore - or that he should of had to in the first place. Ginny... Ginny had tried a lot of things to get his attention before, he knew, but now they were all more blatantly obvious. In fact, she was no downright dangerous.

So basically, if he wanted to ensure Draco's health, which he most definitely did, he couldn't trust his friends. Not even Ron, he thought as he frowned, who would side with Ginny at least right now. Hermione could be trusted, of course, in fact Hermione could always be trusted. That uplifted him a bit except for the part that she wouldn't aim a spell at Ron or Ginny if they came for him. Same went for Mrs. Weasley. He didn't know about the adults in general, actually. They'd probably disagree with what was going on between the two of them, whatever it was, anyways.

They both laid there; holding one another, thinking about each other, both fully aware that things will get worse from here, obvious by the feeling within them, but that at least for now they could rely on the person in their arms.