Redeem Me

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

Redeem Me…by Samayel

Chapter 21: Hard News And Harder Heads


Molly had made fresh biscuits, and had tea at the ready, since lunch simply hadn’t happened. A word of invitation and the boys took their seats quickly enough, and seemed to enjoy themselves thoroughly. Molly fretted her way about the kitchen, until she’d put away all that could be put away, and cleaned all that could be cleaned. It was time to sit down and discuss a few matters, and there was no more putting it off.

Molly took her seat at the table, and poured herself a cup of tea before addressing Harry and Draco, who were still passing her compliments over the fresh biscuits, and Draco showed off the newly healed skin of his left arm, citing Harry‘s work as excellent. At least their moods were good, and that helped with the news she had to deliver.

“Oh, you’re both welcome, boys. I’m just glad for a reason to make biscuits again. I wanted to talk to you both today, since this ultimately involves all of us. Draco, the waking nightmares you’ve had…the ones where you can’t wake up from them properly? They’re from taking Dreamless Sleep all week. It’s meant for emergencies, and we certainly had one, but it was never intended for continual use. I talked with Madam Pomfrey, and there’s no proper substitute for natural sleep. Your body needed the rest so badly that it was no threat for awhile, but now your mind needs rest, too. It has to dream just to be healthy, and you haven’t been dreaming, except as the potion wears off. It isn’t healthy for you anymore, and I haven’t any choice but to stop administering it. The side effects only get worse, and I hope you understand that we’ll try to do as much as we can to make the nights bearable. Are you alright, love?”

Draco was listening, half-numb from surprise. He hadn’t expected this, and he didn’t know much about Dreamless Sleep, but he knew enough to be frightened by the nightmares he’d had, and he certainly didn’t want more of them. Fortunately, he was still calmed by the potion he’d taken earlier, and the news didn’t frighten him so much as concern him.

“I…I understand. I know you mean the best for me. I guess we’ll just, you know, make do. See how it goes, right?”

He tried to smile and feign a little enthusiasm, but he couldn’t help but appear apprehensive. Harry turned to him and offered his support, and that was a cheering thought.

“Look, that potion isn’t the end all and be all of magic. There’s got to be a few other spells or potions that are helpful, and I’ve got a pretty decent research library of my own. Nothing like Hogwarts, mind you, but the few I’ve got are all higher order studies. There’s bound to be something useful among them. We’ll do whatever we can to make it easier for you, okay?”

“Thanks. I mean it. Both of you are…well, you’re very kind. I appreciate it, but I think I might have to get used to dreaming again, no matter what we do. I don’t want to kid myself with false hope, it probably won’t be easy. Just don’t feel bad because you can’t change it, okay? I know you’ll try, but I guess I just have to start getting on with it.”

Molly listened to Draco intently, and his resolve in the face of what was coming broke her heart completely. Things had been overwhelming her a bit lately, and this was another of those times. Before she could stop herself, she was blubbing and wiping her eyes with her apron, words spilling from her between sniffles.

“That’s a brave lad. We’ll be fine…just fine. I’m so sorry, love…if only…no substitute.”

Harry was giving her a hug before she knew it. The moods that came over her these days, really! It was just embarrassing the way she fell apart anymore.

“Hey…Molly…Mum…it’s alright. I swear it is. We’ll get by just fine, alright? I’m sorry…about yesterday, but that won’t happen again. I’ll be here, and we’ll find a way. You’ve done just great, and there’s nothing to worry over. I promise. Are you feeling alright?”

Draco sat and watched the entire display nervously, feeling terribly sheepish, since he was sure he was the cause of Molly’s anxiety. It shamed him, that the woman who had shown him so much kindness could be in such a state because of him.

“Harry’s right. You’ve been wonderful to me. Please don’t cry. I’ll deal with whatever I have to. Things will work out…you’ll see. Harry will think of something, and I’ll just…just have some dreams until then. It’ll all work out…really!”

In truth, he was a bit more skeptical about what his nights would be like, but he’d have said anything to make Molly feel better at that point. He just hoped he sounded believable. At least Harry was looking back over Molly’s shoulder with an air of approval. Even if he didn’t believe himself, he must have said the right thing. Molly came around in just a minute or so.

“Oh…I’m sorry, boys. You shouldn’t have to see me in such a state. Nothing to worry over, really. Just an old woman’s prattling. I’m well enough to get on with the day. Almost time to start supper, anyway.”

Molly patted Harry’s arm and busied herself pulling out pots and pans, and readying some of the food to be served later. It was probably a bit early for it, but she obviously needed a way to shift attention from her momentary lapse. Harry took her at her word, and simply assumed that the stress she was under was partly his fault. That was enough to drive home the point that, at least for the time being, he really belonged here.

Draco offered his help in the kitchen, which wasn’t much, but at least he could fetch things and take on the simpler tasks. Harry announced that he was going to start checking his books for spells, and drifted upstairs.

The work went well enough, but Draco tired quickly. He hadn’t been on his feet for more than an hour in almost a week or more, and even though he had his balance back, his body was still unused to putting forth prolonged effort. Molly noticed fairly soon, and shooed him off to the living room with a cup of tea and a few biscuits, as well as a few kind words for his help.

Draco walked through the living room, nibbling his biscuits, and looked about properly for the first time. The Weasley household may not have been rich in what people traditionally thought of as wealth, and the services of an interior designer had probably been needed for a century or more, but it was a house rich in history, and certainly rich in love. Everywhere around him were reminders of the past; mementos and trophies of their children’s accomplishments, antiques passed down from generations before, and wizarding photos and Prophet clippings that held fond memories.

Most impressive of all, the Weasley clock stood proudly near the entrance, heralding the well-being, location, and status of every member of the family. There on the face were the hands of the clock, each name prominent and easily read. The work column was practically full at the moment, this being Monday afternoon, but Molly and Harry were listed as home.

’What a beautiful old thing. We’d never have had anything like this in the manor. I don’t think there was anyone my parents cared enough about to worry over. It would be nice…to have people feel that way about you. Worry when you’re gone, and need something like this just to know you’re alright. I wish…’

There was no point in wishing. Not really. Wishes were a thing for children, and there was nothing childish left in Draco. He had friends, and that was more than he could have imagined a few years ago. That was enough to be grateful for, wasn’t it?

One of the clock hands moved. Ron was traveling. Draco turned to head for the kitchen, when green flames leapt from the fireplace. Ron Weasley bounced out with a confident step, shaking ash from his coat and whispering a spell to clean up the mess he’d just left on the floor. He looked up with a smile, and it vanished when his eyes landed on Draco Malfoy.

“Malfoy.”

“Please, it’s just Dr-”

That was all he managed to get out before a fist the approximate size of the Isle of Wight dwarfed everything else, and after a brief, bright flash of pain, the world went peacefully dark.

---------------------------------------------------


“RONALD WEASLEY! JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

Molly Weasley was crimson with simmering outrage. Ron looked at her, dumbfounded.

“But, Mum…it’s Malfoy! I thought he was up to no good.”

“ARMED WITH TEA AND BISCUITS?! I owled you and SAID he was here! I told you to behave.”

“I’d had a few drinks that night. I ’member getting a letter back, an’ it said you were looking forward to me getting home for a bit. Must ’ave forgot the other part…sorry.”

Molly advanced on Ron, who cringed and was already stepping backward before her wrath.

“He’s under sanctuary! You violated it in less than a minute! You’re an embarrassment to our entire family line! If I didn’t know better, I’d swear a blockhead like you couldn’t possibly have come from either side of this family! You listen close, and mind this, Ronald! If you so much as touch a hair on that boy’s head, I’ll…I’ll…WELL, YOU'LL SEE! Don’t think I’ve forgotten how to cast that Paddling Jinx I had to use on Fred and George! I can use it on you, grown or not!”

A poke to the solar plexus from Molly’s wooden spoon dropped Ron onto his bum, and he stammered apologies.

“Bloody hell! Not that one, Mum! Fred and George had to invent a Bum-Numbing Charm just to get out of bed the next day. I said I’m sorry, Mum! It was Malfoy…what was I supposed to think? It won’t happen again, ’kay?”

“YOU’RE RIGHT IT WON’T! Now you get in the kitchen and see to the veggies for tonight. I’ll get Draco fixed back up. You absolute oaf! Now GO!”

Ron rolled to his feet and hurried off, stifling a yelp when Molly’s spoon cracked across his backside.

Harry came down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and looked at the scene. Draco looked like he had a broken nose, and he was out cold, but bleeding steadily. Molly leaned down and whispered, “Episkey”. The cartilage of Draco’s nose re-aligned with a soft crunch, and she took a look up at Harry.

“Harry, take him upstairs and clean up his face. See if you can spell away any bruising before it takes root. I’ll see to Ron in the kitchen.”

Harry spelled Draco off the floor, and headed back to Draco’s room, Draco in tow behind him. He didn’t dare cross Molly’s temper by defending Ron’s initial reaction, which must have been bad, judging by Draco’s face. Mostly, he was irritated that Ron had just undone a bit of healing that had been taken care of a week ago, and Harry may have understood bearing Draco ill will, but still, Ron should have known that if Draco was here, in the house, wearing Percy’s clothes, that he was bloody well welcome!

Ron was a situation just waiting to happen. The press called him ’The Breaker’, since as a Beater for the Cannons, he’d smashed more brooms with Bludgers than any player in league history, and had put more players into the care of Healers than anyone playing Quidditch today. His violent temperament on the field was only excused because he stayed inside the rules of the game as much as possible, but he still wound up suspended now and again.

Most recently, he’d missed a swing at a Bludger, and connected with a Chaser from the rival team, breaking the man’s jaw and sending him tumbling to the ground, fortunate to be caught by the referee’s spells. It was all ‘above the board’ as an accident, but given the rarity of Ron missing a Bludger, it was more likely that he’d just decided to thin the other team’s numbers a bit.

He’d been a mess after Ginny and Hermione had been killed. Harry had spent a lot of time getting him functional again, and when the war had ended, Ron had seemed a lot better, especially since he’d won an Order of Merlin, First Class, alongside Harry, for his role in the final battle. Only those close to him would have noticed the difference in his behavior since then.

He hadn’t been such a drinker until well after the war, and Ron never seemed to make new friends these days. Even his team mates gave him a fairly wide berth, wondering if he’d take his temper out on them if they said something wrong. Harry knew full well that Ron usually drank whenever there wasn’t a game coming, and when Ron drank, it was always too much. He wasn’t a classic alcoholic in the sense of having a dependency on booze, but he was a chronic binge drinker, who never stopped once he started, and had little or no self control once he was intoxicated. More than once, Harry had wound up holding Ron’s head over a toilet or a waste bin, while Ron alternately vomited and cried over what he’d lost.

It always came back to Hermione. As well and functional as Ron may have seemed most days, he hadn’t let go of Hermione. In school, he’d always planned to ask her out, and in the end, she’d practically had to lead him word by word into finally dating. She’d complemented Ron perfectly, strong where he was weak, and the two of them together had been more than the sum of the parts…a perfect relationship. He’d meant to propose to her, after the war, when death wasn’t hanging over their heads, but he’d never gotten the chance.

They’d been hunting for the fifth Horcrux, and after the lot of them nearly getting killed in the search for the fourth, Ron had gone through a screaming row to make Hermione stay behind. She’d only acquiesced because Ron broke down and admitted that he was terrified of losing her. Harry and Ron had left, and after a week in the field, they came home only to learn of Hermione’s murder. Ron had been suicidal for weeks, and the young man that emerged from his room was a grim and implacable enemy to the Death Eaters, and he’d saved Harry’s life several times over in the process. Only after it was all over, and there had been time to rest, had any sign of real damage shown.

Harry remembered all of this, and it wasn’t easy to stay angry at Ron, knowing what really ailed his good friend. Harry tucked Draco into bed by spell, cast a few little charms to clean him up and staunch the blood flow, and then cast a few more to guarantee there wouldn’t be excessive bruising. He cast a final Enervate, and woke Draco up, reassuring him that he was safe and Ron had just exploded the way Harry had, and that it wouldn’t happen again. For his part, Draco found a book and decided it was safer to just stay up there and read, rather than antagonize Ron just by showing back up. He could wait until dinner to make an appearance.

Once he was sure that Draco was well, Harry headed back downstairs to see Ron, hoping his mate would have his wits back about him again. If Ron was here more than one night, it could easily turn things more tense than they’d been before, and that was saying something!

TBC!!!