Hard Time

Chapter Sixteen: The Morning After


Harry woke the next morning, one hand slightly numb from the position he was in, neck a bit stiff with the lack of a pillow, but surprisingly rested. There had been no further dreams, and for one of the first times, he'd felt safe. There was a simple reason to this. That reason was still asleep, cheek pressed against his chest, arm sprawled across him.

It was a little awkward, reaching with one hand to grab his glasses and craning his neck to look at Draco, but Harry didn't care. Draco's face was peaceful in repose and Harry wanted the chance to look before Draco woke up. It was amazing how beautiful Draco was when he wasn't making one of his snobbish expressions. Blond hair spilled onto one cheek, brushing red lips that made Harry want to lick his own. He wanted to reach out and brush aside that lock, feel those lips. He wanted a repeat of what had taken place last night. But Draco was so unpredictable. Harry had no idea if something like that would ever happen again.

What had it been, exactly? Had Draco just noticed Harry's need again and decided to act the part of cellblock whore? Take care of his needs? But that didn't fit, because Draco had been pleasuring himself at the same time. He'd been enjoying it. And if that was the case, then why stay and sleep with Harry? Why was Draco draped across him like it was the most natural thing in the world?

Too many questions for this early in the morning, Harry decided. His hand itched to pet Draco's hair and feel how soft it could be, but he held still, ignoring that and any other urges to move. One thing was painfully clear, by the way the sight of Draco sleeping peacefully made his heart almost hurt. He was developing feelings for Draco. Deep feelings. He didn't know what to do with them.

This had definitely not been part of the plan. The plan which had seemed so simple at first now was becoming more and more convoluted. He'd worked yesterday to make sure all the Manor's defences were engaged in case Fenrir made an appearance. Having a safe place to work was definitely one requirement for helping Draco. But what about emotional safety? How was he supposed to help Draco recover from whatever had happened to him in Azkaban, get him to align himself with the side of the Order, when all he wanted to do sometimes was snog the living daylights out of him?

He really needed to talk to Hermione.

As Harry thought that, Draco stirred and opened his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, and Harry could tell from the look in Draco's eyes that he was just as unsure about what to do or say next as Harry was. How did one go from enemy to . . . lover?

Harry never could have guessed Draco's next move. With a glance towards the table, Draco reached over and snatched up Harry's wand. Harry's heart stilled, waiting for the flash of green light, and he berated himself for not adding any clauses about killing spells or physical harm to the Unbreakable Vow. Stupid. Really stupid.

Instead, however, Draco uttered a different incantation. "Legilimens."

Harry had no time to prepare any kind of mental defence. Instantly he was bombarded by memories: sitting in the cupboard under the stairs when he was perhaps six or seven, huddled in the dark and afraid to tell Aunt Petunia that he'd had a bad dream . . . being laughed at in school wearing Dudley's hand-me-downs . . . his first encounter speaking with a snake . . . the day Hagrid told him he was a wizard . . . his isolation before the first Tri-Wizard trial seeing all the 'Potter Stinks' buttons and listening to jeers . . . and then finally, the scene that Harry had been dreading but expecting, himself coming upon Draco crying in the Prefects bathroom.

There was the confusion at seeing someone so infernally sure of himself breaking down and showing weakness, the sudden concern, the horror upon being discovered and not knowing what to say. It had all gone so horribly wrong. He'd never meant to get into that jinx war. Why hadn't he tried to talk to Draco, ask him about what Voldemort was asking of him, try to get him to confide? And he really hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't thought the Half Blood Prince would create such a horrific curse . . .

Harry felt the spell break and came back to himself, panting hard, his heart pounding. On top of him, Draco was breathing hard as well, a look of shocked understanding on his face. Angrily, Harry snatched back his wand. "Why did you do that?"

Draco shook his head helplessly, and now he looked afraid. "To understand--" He scrambled off of Harry, and the next thing Harry knew, Draco was hurrying up the staircase back to his room. Harry winced as he heard the door slam.

This was not good, Harry thought, sitting up and shoving his wand into his pocket. He felt grimy and rumpled from sleeping in his clothes, he was still horny, and now Draco wasn't speaking to him. Had he done something wrong? Whatever had possessed Draco to do that? Nothing was making sense today.

That tore it, he decided. He'd have to try and tell Hermione, and pray that she didn't burst a blood vessel when she heard what they'd been doing last night. "Kreacher!" Harry called, waiting as the house elf appeared before him. "I need you to keep an eye on Draco today--I need to go out for a bit. Make sure he doesn't try to harm anyone or anything."

A thought came to him. Draco had mentioned talking to Kreacher yesterday. "Oh--and if you could try to get Draco to speak with you . . . try to find out why he's upset, okay? Just try to find out anything about him for me. Thanks."

Kreacher bowed. "Yes, Master Harry." He vanished with a pop, and Harry went up to his room to take a quick shower and change clothes. He listened for sounds from Draco's room, but everything was quiet. With his wand firmly in his pocket and a picture of Hermione's house in his hand, he headed out the door. He only hoped he'd be able to safely Apparate there; he'd never been there before.

The house he arrived at looked right, anyway. It was a simple looking place, not terribly different than the Dursleys', except that there was a little more cheer about the place and a few more weeds in the garden. He knocked on the white painted door and waited anxiously, glancing up at the dark windows on the second floor and wondering which one might be Hermione's. A woman with dark bushy hair opened the door. He vaguely recognized her from Flourish and Blotts, the glimpse he'd had of her his second year. It seemed like a lifetime away.

"Is Hermione here?" Harry hoped he looked respectable enough.

The woman looked him over, noting particularly his glasses, and the lightning scar. Harry fought the blush that was rising to his cheeks, but just as he was about to ask again, she nodded. "You must be Harry Potter. She mentioned you might be stopping by. Second door on the left upstairs, and keep the door open, young man."

Harry nodded, blushing deeper. He wondered what Hermione's mother would think if she knew Harry was never going to be interested in Hermione in a way that required closed doors. Hurrying, he raced up the stairs and knocked on the second door, wondering if Hermione looked any different, was any different from before the trip to Australia.

Hermione opened the door, looking the same as she always did, hair bushy, brown eyes bright with knowledge, and that energy that was always Hermione's. "Well it's about time you showed up! I've been positively dying for news." She pulled Harry in and closed the door before he could mention about her mother's words. "What's this I hear about you working with Draco Malfoy?"

"I think he's trying to be good. I don't think he belongs in Azkaban with the other Death Eaters," Harry began, taking a look around. The room was pretty plain--two walls dominated by bookshelves, no surprise there, bed with a white lace coverlet, desk, computer, some pictures of Ron, some of the three of them together, and a poster of Victor Krum, interestingly enough. Harry sat down on the bed, trying to formulate his thoughts. "I took him out of St. Mungo's to stay with me. At the Manor."

Hermione blinked at him. "Harry! Are you daft? What if he escapes?"

Harry nodded; he'd expected that sort of a reaction. "I made him take an Unbreakable Vow that he wouldn't try to escape, or harm himself. Hermione . . ." He dragged a hand through his hair, wondering how to explain things. "I testified on behalf of his mother, because she saved my life. She asked me to check up on him--she was worried about how the other Death Eaters would treat him since he didn't answer the Mark's call and fight outside the castle with them. As far as they knew, he'd deserted. And it was bad. He had bruises all over . . ." Harry looked down at his hands. "I walked in to question him and he was being raped."

It was gratifying to see Hermione pale, her eyes wide with shock. "But the guards--surely--"

Harry shook his head. "They didn't care at all. In fact, they were going to punish him for it. His cellmate roughed him up for being caught--broke his nose. Draco slit his wrists. That's how he ended up in St. Mungo's."

"Good Lord," Hermione breathed. "He was always a prat, but even so . . ." She shook her head, horrified. "And what did you tell them? How did you take over things?"

"I talked to Kingsley, and then I had to talk to the Head Healers at St. Mungo's. I think they were confused about what to do with him, and I think everyone's been so busy trying to put things back together and deal with all the Death Eaters that they simply didn't care what happened to one of the young ones. They gave me a month to work with him and 'rehabilitate' him. If we can convince the Wizengamot that he's changed and that he's going to follow all the laws and abstain from anything dark, I'm hoping they'll grant him a pardon or something." Harry looked up again, trying to read Hermione's expression. He could see her going into thinking mode, trying to reason things out. That was a good sign. She wasn't railing against him just yet.

Instead, she was staring at him. Harry tried not to blush. "Well I think that would be excellent, if he decided to change. I'd support that." She continued to stare at him, measuring. Was it hot in here? "What I don't understand, Harry, is why you? Why do you want to help him? I thought you hated him."

The blush was fierce now; there was no avoiding it. "I just do." Inside he was panicking. How was he supposed to tell her about last night? It was hard enough just telling the innocent parts of the story!

Understanding came into her eyes. Hermione put her hands on her hips, and Harry knew he was in trouble. "Have you told him?"

Huh? "Told him what?" Harry asked, mystified. Told who? Draco?

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That you have feelings for him?"

Harry sputtered, standing up, trying to avoid her gaze. "I don't . . ." He heard her tutting him and turned around to glare back at her. "Well how do you know that?"

"It's written all over your face, Harry," Hermione told him matter-of-factly.

It felt like the floor shifted, or perhaps it was only Harry's perspective. He found himself clutching at the computer chair. "I . . . I didn't used to. It just sort of happened." He could at least say that in his defence.

"Oh Harry." Hermione smiled, and Harry was amazed to find she wasn't angry with him. "I've known you were gay since Fourth Year when you stared more at Cedric Diggory than Cho. You've just--well you've never really had any chemistry with girls, you know."

Well that was a revelation. Harry sat down again. "Well why didn't I figure it out until now?" Had he really stared that much at Cedric? He'd always told himself he'd been watching the competition, but the more he thought about it . . . she was right. Cho had been interesting because she'd been a brilliant Quidditch player. But it was those rosy cheeks of Cedric that had made his heart race.

Hermione sat down next to him. "Well Harry, you've always been a bit thick."

Harry blushed harder. "Ginny figured it out too I think--she rather broke up with me before I bought the Manor. She said I felt more like a brother." On the one hand, it was a relief not to have to explain all this to Hermione. On the other, he felt like more of an idiot than ever. Fourth year?!

Hermione smiled knowingly. "Exactly. So what now? How are things going?"

Harry blew out a breath, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, on the good side of things, he actually cried a bit the day before yesterday. I didn't really talk to him much yesterday because I was trying to amp up the defences of the Manor--did you hear that Fenrir escaped? So I was worried about that. And then last night . . ." He bit his lip. "Stuff happened. I'm not sure if it was a good thing or not."

"I don't think I want to know what 'stuff' is. I'm assuming it's 'stuff' that um, perhaps Ron and I got into during our trip?" Now it was Hermione's turn to blush.

Harry stood again, stepping away from her. "I don't want to know!" To picture his two best mates . . . no. Just no.

"And so why was it bad? What do you mean you don't know if it was good or not? I should think that'd be pretty easy to tell, frankly." It was cunning of Hermione to bring things back to the topic at hand, and for that Harry was grateful.

He shrugged. "Well it was brilliant at the time, just brilliant. Not, you know, that we did everything Just, you know, well . . . hands and things. No kissing even. But we slept--and I mean slept, not anything else--on the sofa, and then this morning he swiped my wand from me and cast a Legilimency on me! Poking through my memories! And then he fled up and hid in his room. I'm just torn. I don't know what to do next. I've got Kreacher keeping an eye on him and trying to talk to him." Harry sat down next to Hermione again and looked her in the eye. "I want to help him, I really do. I think I'm actually starting to like him. But I'm out of my depth here. I thought maybe you could help."

Hermione was staring at him again. "He cast a Leglimency? I thought those were illegal. I wonder if the Carrows taught that in class as well." She shook her head and nodded at Harry. "I can try to help--I can visit the library and get some books on things, you know, abuse survivors self help or therapy for rape victims perhaps. But mostly I think you're just going to have to talk to him. Get him to talk to you, open up. That's all I can think of."

"Right. You're right of course." But somehow, hearing Hermione confirm that made Harry feel a bit better about things. At least he had a second opinion. "And probably we shouldn't, you know, do any more 'stuff' for a bit. Though I swear--he started it! I was just trying to sleep."

"I never thought I'd be giving this type of advice to you, Harry," Hermione said with a little chuckle, rubbing her forehead. She smiled. "Just trust your instincts, and if something goes wrong, contact me. We'll figure it out. You've got some time--it's probably going to take time. I wouldn't expect him to change in a day."

Harry smiled back, leaning over to give Hermione a one-armed embrace. "I knew I could talk to you. I couldn't talk to anyone else. Can you imagine Ron's reaction?"

Hermione grimaced. "He'd have kittens. I'd wait as long as possible before telling him."

"Exactly. I can't believe you took it so well, considering all the horrid things he called you." There was a knock at the door and Hermione's mum peeked in, giving them both a look before leaving the door half open. Hermione stifled a giggle. Harry had to grin as well. He sobered and tried to continue. "He actually did remember to call you 'Muggle-born' instead of the other, though he couldn't recall your name. He asked how you were. I thought was rather good, considering."

That received another nod from Hermione, a thoughtful one. "I can't imagine you falling for a complete prat, so there must be some redeeming qualities to him. He's certainly had reason enough to consider changing, having You Know Who at his house and all. And you did save his life. Something like that can be life-altering." She looked at him warmly. "You're still a hero, Harry. I know you say you want a normal life, but I don't think you'll truly be happy unless you're saving something. So good luck. I wish you both the best."

"I still need help from my friends," Harry reminded her.

Hermione held his hand. "We'll always be around."


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TBC


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