The Terror of Ending Forever

In the Chaos of the Aftermath

“I never want to see you unhappy/I thought you’d want the same for me” Almost Lovers – A Fine Frenzy.

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Blearily Draco woke up, curling up and around his distended belly, damning every cell in his body that didn’t heed his plea to die already.  Part of him felt guilty as he felt a slight flutter under his hand as his child kicked.   But at least, if he died, he’d get to take him or her with him and not be forced to give them up.  Harry never even got to know, he was going to tell him that cursed night.  Now, months later, he’d give anything for him to know, then at least, his child would have a safe and loving place to go.

That’s all he really wanted at this point, having long since given up that Harry’d rescue him.

“I’m so sorry, my sweet little one,” He cried.

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Harry was shocked awake, sitting up and breathing heavy.  Besides him Ginny sat up moaning, “What the fuck, Harry,”

It wasn’t the first time he’d been startled awake by a dream of Draco but… they confounded him.  They always started the same, him and Draco wrapped around one another, passion flushed, him slipping inside the Slytherin Prince so carefully so… lovingly.  Panting that he loved him in his ear, promising forever…

It just didn’t make any sense.

He hated Draco, always had ever since they first met that day in Madam Malkin’s… didn’t he?

“Nothing Ginny, just go back to sleep I’m gonna go check on James,”

Harry pattered wearily to where his son’s room was.  He’d been surprised when he woke up after having apparently killed Voldemort to find Ginny very pregnant with his child. Not that you could tell by looking at him.  James looked every inch Ginny’s son, pale blue eyes and red hair, though so far no freckles.  Staring down at him Harry felt horrible for putting his mum in that situation.  Even worse was the guilt that he couldn’t find it in him to see James as his something just seemed so wrong with it…

Maybe he should go talk to someone, despite how everyone said everything was ok.  That he didn’t need a mind healer.  If he didn’t know his best friends better he’d think they were hiding something from him.

Sighing he went down the stairs of Grimmould Place, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea, mind a million miles away to where he knew Draco Malfoy was rotting in jail for his crimes.  Wondering why the very thought made his heart hurt like it was being torn apart.

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Draco shivered, freezing and hurting everywhere.  Welts decorated his body from where he’d been whipped from head to toe before that damned guard finally relented and settled down to rape him.   Draco couldn’t take it and he wanted to puke but if he did the bastard would just hurt him more.  Instead he closed his eyes tightly and imagined his favorite fantasy.

It was just him and Harry, sitting down to tea in a little home library, Harry had their son or daughter – it changed from fantasy to fantasy – in his arms, smiling and playing with them.  He looked up at Draco with those startling green eyes and saying “I love you,”

It was a fools dream, Draco knew that, but sometimes it was the only thing that stopped him from finding a way to kill himself.  They could take everything from him, and they would, but Draco absolutely refused to sink that low, to lose all dignity because of the shit hand dealt to him.  Even when he ached with everything in him to do it and get this wretched life over with and not have to deal with being without his Harry or his baby.

After he sat up and scooted as far away from the entrance of his cell as he could.  He put his hands on his belly and rubbed, trying to settle his child as it kicked, upset and reacting to what was going on to Draco.

“Husssshhh,” He whispered, “It’s alright, it’s all going to be alright,”

I hope.