Out of the Night that Covers Me
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
5,495
Reviews:
58
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
5,495
Reviews:
58
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.
Epilogue
Out of the Night that Covers Me
by Mephistedes
.:.
Epilogue
.:.
“BURK!”
Pash was the first to notice him standing in the doorway. She gave a soft chirp in greeting and leaned against the cage wall, pressing her twitching nose between the vertical bars.
But Draco said nothing, and continued his vigil in silence at the foot of Narcissa’s bed.
Draco didn’t look much different than when he’d last seen him leaving the bedroom with Crookshanks, nearly two months ago.
After the S.P.O.O.K.s and Aurors had secured the country manor, he’d explained (in as little information as possible) what had happened. Of course, completely against protocol, he’d told Ron and Hermione the total truth later, as they, his best friends, and he being the one to thwart their nuptials, were very much entitled.
Yet they had married, much later in an intimate ceremony that very night at the Burrow, much to Mrs. Weasley’s delight. Harry stood as best man from start to finish, and grinned crookedly as he recovered the box from Ginny and finally handed Ron the rings.
But even as his friends and family celebrated, thoughts of how he’d left things with Draco continually wormed their way in. Draco, who had slunk into the shadows and disappeared without saying goodbye. Draco, who had stopped in at Grimmauld Place sometime during the makeshift reception to collect Pash and depart.
Harry nearly upended his entire bedroom, hoping, praying Draco had left some semblance of farewell. He found nothing.
Further inspection at the Ministry proved fruitless. Neither Cottenham nor Kingsley had a clue where he’d gone afterwards. Their best guess had been back to the Directorate in France, but Minister Girard would tell them nothing.
In the end, Harry came to the conclusion that Draco just did not want to be found. He could do nothing if that was the case. That was the end of it, he thought.
Until two days ago.
He’d received a concise note by owl with some unpronounceable name of a facility in Chaumont, and a room number.
So here he was, standing at the threshold of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy’s permanent residence, wondering whether he should go in or stay back. It was a private family matter after all, and given the way Draco had reacted the last time he’d intruded on his privacy, Harry was disinclined to cross him again. But to see Draco alone, looking incredibly downhearted, tugged at Harry’s compassion.
Should he? Shouldn’t he?
He’d made up his mind.
Draco didn’t budge when he’d pulled up a chair beside him and sat down without a word. When Harry reached for his hand, seizing it gently, Draco remained listless.
Several hours could’ve passed, and probably did. But still, they sat in silence, hands loosely enfolded in Draco’s lap.
The last thing Harry wanted was to be found staring curiously at the inert Malfoys, so he caught little glimpses here and there. They looked no different than their tesseract images: both Malfoys seemingly awake and staring past the two of them at nothing.
But what those pictures failed to capture was the dull sparkle of their old selves trapped in a catatonic husk, or the weight of the despondency in Draco’s own eyes.
“They have their good days.” Harry stared down at their joined hands, saying nothing to Draco’s admission. “Today is neutral. They don’t recognize me.”
“Tomorrow they might,” he offered softly, brushing his thumb over Draco’s knuckles in silent support.
Draco nodded imperceptibly, his expression still blank. Harry continued to caress his knuckles and cast furtive looks to the unmoving couple, feeling more judged than helpless with each swipe of his thumb.
Finally, Draco said, “I heard Shacklebolt’s looking for me.”
“Yes.” Harry hoarsely answered, wryly smiling at his lap. “He’s assigned me to track down the Black Knights; put a stop to their regime, perhaps even infiltrate,” he quietly filled in, then frowned. “But he doesn’t want me doing it alone. Thinks I need a partner,” he gently scoffed and shook his head. “But I’m not about to let just anybody fill that slot.”
He peered at Draco from the corner of his eye and caught a mild grin slipping from his face. “You’re very selective with your slot, then.”
“Very.”
“And you think I can fill your slot better than anyone?” his tone teased. “You know we’ve only worked together once.”
Harry inaudibly chuckled. “One good time is all it takes.”
It was another long silence before Draco spoke. “I have good days and bad days, too.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Harry staunchly pledged with another squeeze to Draco’s hand. He meant it. Every sing word of it. No matter what Draco tried, he wouldn’t budge. If Draco pushed him away, he would push back harder.
The corner of Draco’s eye crinkled. “There’s no getting rid of you, is there?”
Harry shook his head.
“Because you care?”
He furrowed his brow before answering, “No.” He slowly faced Draco, who had turned sharply toward him at his response. Staid-faced and softly, Harry replied, “Because you’re worthy.”
Draco’s grey eyes held his, hard and scrutinizing, but Harry held fast. After long minutes, he turned away. Swallowing, Harry did the same.
He didn’t regret his honesty, and even if Draco refused him at this point, he’d made his feelings known. For that, Harry was glad.
A gentle pressure on his fingers a minute later let him know Draco felt the same.
Smiling, Harry squeezed back.
.:.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the out time to read and review. You're all phenomenal, and I'm humbled by your kind, funny, and inspiring words. I had a tremendous amount of fun (a blast, really), as you all were quite accommodating. Until we meet again ... thanks a million! ^^
.:.
by Mephistedes
.:.
Epilogue
.:.
“BURK!”
Pash was the first to notice him standing in the doorway. She gave a soft chirp in greeting and leaned against the cage wall, pressing her twitching nose between the vertical bars.
But Draco said nothing, and continued his vigil in silence at the foot of Narcissa’s bed.
Draco didn’t look much different than when he’d last seen him leaving the bedroom with Crookshanks, nearly two months ago.
After the S.P.O.O.K.s and Aurors had secured the country manor, he’d explained (in as little information as possible) what had happened. Of course, completely against protocol, he’d told Ron and Hermione the total truth later, as they, his best friends, and he being the one to thwart their nuptials, were very much entitled.
Yet they had married, much later in an intimate ceremony that very night at the Burrow, much to Mrs. Weasley’s delight. Harry stood as best man from start to finish, and grinned crookedly as he recovered the box from Ginny and finally handed Ron the rings.
But even as his friends and family celebrated, thoughts of how he’d left things with Draco continually wormed their way in. Draco, who had slunk into the shadows and disappeared without saying goodbye. Draco, who had stopped in at Grimmauld Place sometime during the makeshift reception to collect Pash and depart.
Harry nearly upended his entire bedroom, hoping, praying Draco had left some semblance of farewell. He found nothing.
Further inspection at the Ministry proved fruitless. Neither Cottenham nor Kingsley had a clue where he’d gone afterwards. Their best guess had been back to the Directorate in France, but Minister Girard would tell them nothing.
In the end, Harry came to the conclusion that Draco just did not want to be found. He could do nothing if that was the case. That was the end of it, he thought.
Until two days ago.
He’d received a concise note by owl with some unpronounceable name of a facility in Chaumont, and a room number.
So here he was, standing at the threshold of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy’s permanent residence, wondering whether he should go in or stay back. It was a private family matter after all, and given the way Draco had reacted the last time he’d intruded on his privacy, Harry was disinclined to cross him again. But to see Draco alone, looking incredibly downhearted, tugged at Harry’s compassion.
Should he? Shouldn’t he?
He’d made up his mind.
Draco didn’t budge when he’d pulled up a chair beside him and sat down without a word. When Harry reached for his hand, seizing it gently, Draco remained listless.
Several hours could’ve passed, and probably did. But still, they sat in silence, hands loosely enfolded in Draco’s lap.
The last thing Harry wanted was to be found staring curiously at the inert Malfoys, so he caught little glimpses here and there. They looked no different than their tesseract images: both Malfoys seemingly awake and staring past the two of them at nothing.
But what those pictures failed to capture was the dull sparkle of their old selves trapped in a catatonic husk, or the weight of the despondency in Draco’s own eyes.
“They have their good days.” Harry stared down at their joined hands, saying nothing to Draco’s admission. “Today is neutral. They don’t recognize me.”
“Tomorrow they might,” he offered softly, brushing his thumb over Draco’s knuckles in silent support.
Draco nodded imperceptibly, his expression still blank. Harry continued to caress his knuckles and cast furtive looks to the unmoving couple, feeling more judged than helpless with each swipe of his thumb.
Finally, Draco said, “I heard Shacklebolt’s looking for me.”
“Yes.” Harry hoarsely answered, wryly smiling at his lap. “He’s assigned me to track down the Black Knights; put a stop to their regime, perhaps even infiltrate,” he quietly filled in, then frowned. “But he doesn’t want me doing it alone. Thinks I need a partner,” he gently scoffed and shook his head. “But I’m not about to let just anybody fill that slot.”
He peered at Draco from the corner of his eye and caught a mild grin slipping from his face. “You’re very selective with your slot, then.”
“Very.”
“And you think I can fill your slot better than anyone?” his tone teased. “You know we’ve only worked together once.”
Harry inaudibly chuckled. “One good time is all it takes.”
It was another long silence before Draco spoke. “I have good days and bad days, too.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Harry staunchly pledged with another squeeze to Draco’s hand. He meant it. Every sing word of it. No matter what Draco tried, he wouldn’t budge. If Draco pushed him away, he would push back harder.
The corner of Draco’s eye crinkled. “There’s no getting rid of you, is there?”
Harry shook his head.
“Because you care?”
He furrowed his brow before answering, “No.” He slowly faced Draco, who had turned sharply toward him at his response. Staid-faced and softly, Harry replied, “Because you’re worthy.”
Draco’s grey eyes held his, hard and scrutinizing, but Harry held fast. After long minutes, he turned away. Swallowing, Harry did the same.
He didn’t regret his honesty, and even if Draco refused him at this point, he’d made his feelings known. For that, Harry was glad.
A gentle pressure on his fingers a minute later let him know Draco felt the same.
Smiling, Harry squeezed back.
.:.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the out time to read and review. You're all phenomenal, and I'm humbled by your kind, funny, and inspiring words. I had a tremendous amount of fun (a blast, really), as you all were quite accommodating. Until we meet again ... thanks a million! ^^
.:.