Darker Side of Me

Darker Side of Me –Chapter 27

So many words were thrown around and muffled voices continued discussing things behind him. These things did not matter, however. They meant nothing to Draco as he stared into the unmoving face of Harry Potter. The words exchanged between the nurse and the Headmaster could not have been anything but meaningless pleasantries in comparison to the weight of what he had just learned.

He got gingerly to his feet, pushing the sheets of the bed away. His muscles were shaking and clearly unprepared for such a bold move, but Draco didn’t care. His heart was pounding in his throat and he forced himself to walk over to the next bed. He trembled as he stood next to the comatose boy, his fingers longing to reach out and touch Harry’s face. He wanted to brush the black locks away from his eyes. He wanted to run his finger over that legendary scar and he wanted to press his lips against Harry’s mouth.

He wanted to somehow fill Harry’s motionless body with life and energy through a kiss; as though his love for Potter and his immense sense of pride in his actions could have woken him from the subconscious. He held out a finger and ran it carefully over the folded part of Harry’s sheets. He longed deeply to hold him and caress his cheek. He wanted to comfort him and let him know that it was all alright and that he was safe.

“Alright, well I’ll be back to check in on you later, Mr. Malfoy,” nurse Fiona’s voice said before he heard the door close. Silence filled the room momentarily.

Draco knew that Dumbledore was still there. He knew that the old wizard was watching him closely and he knew that he was definitely more informed about Harry’s predicament than the nurses were. He knew this because Dumbledore knew everything. He had to. He was Dumbledore.

“Professor…” Malfoy began slowly, his eyes refusing to leave Harry’s face, if only for a moment. He looked so beautiful while he slept. “What happened to Harry?”

There was a long silence. Draco heard some movement behind him. Dumbledore was perhaps shifting positions or getting to his feet. Draco couldn’t bring himself to turn around and see. It didn’t matter what Dumbledore was doing, anyway. He wouldn’t let Harry out of his sight.

“Draco, before I tell you anything,” Dumbledore began quietly. “You must know that what Fiona said a moment ago was true; we know very little about this kind of thing.”

“Yes, but Professor,” he interjected. “You must know more than they do…. Please, tell me. I know I don’t deserve it but… please…”

“What makes you think you don’t deserve to know?” the old wizard asked. His voice was politely inquiring, though he sounded very much like a teacher.

“Because it’s my fault he’s like this…I betrayed him and all of you,” Draco replied. He bit his lip as he spoke. He felt as though he was confessing to Harry, not Dumbledore. He wanted so badly for Harry to wake up and smile at him. He wanted Potter to forgive him and take him into his arms and never let go. But that wasn’t going to happen…

“You are human, Draco,” Dumbledore said wisely. “You make mistakes much like anyone else does. Harry has made mistakes as well. I have made mistakes. I daresay I’ve made more mistakes than most in my long life, but the point is: we all do. Harry would have faced Voldemort eventually, with or without your influence. You were simply a raindrop, Draco. You were not the flood.”

“But I broke my word!” he snapped. A look of disgust ghosted over his face at the thought of it. “I promised him I wouldn’t go back to them. I promised I wouldn’t go back and I went back anyway!”

Silence fell again. Dumbledore walked quietly around Draco and the bed to Harry’s other side. He considered Draco carefully before making a comment. Malfoy would not look at him. He was watching Harry with rapt eyes, as though under the impression that he was going to wake up at any moment.

“You didn’t go back to betray him,” Dumbledore uttered quietly. He wasn’t asking it. Draco’s mouth became as thin line as he sucked his lips to keep from crying. He didn’t answer. “You had no intention of returning to serve Voldemort. You went back because of something else. You needn’t tell me what that reason was, but I’m sure that deep down, Harry knows as well as you do that you never meant to hurt him.”

“How can you know that??” Draco asked. He was disbelieving and in pain. His chest was stinging from the strange pain under the bandages. He made no motion to ease his own pain; he treated it like his punishment and took every stab without complaint.

“As I said, Draco,” he replied. “We know little of these matters, even in the wizarding world, but Love is a fantastic thing and little can overturn it or reroute it.”

Draco shook his head. He didn’t want to believe what the Headmaster was telling him. He didn’t want to buy into the hope that Harry really did love him and wouldn’t hate him for the rest of eternity. He didn’t want to set himself up for that supreme disappointment because he knew the moment would come when that hope would be dashed to pieces and he would be worse off than he was now.

“Please tell me what happened to him…” Draco whispered, unable to take their conversation any longer.

“I don’t know all the details,” Dumbledore answered. “I do know that he killed Voldemort with the killing curse. He somehow cast his first and hit Voldemort in the chest. We found Riddle’s body next to the two of you. Harry was slumped over you, still warm but in a coma-like sleep.”

“He was over me?” Malfoy was picturing that night in his mind, desperate to feel that warmth of Harry’s body against his.

“Yes,” Dumbledore admitted, smiling gently. “It seems he took you into his arms when he thought you were dead. We had quite some trouble to bring you both here, actually. His body refused to let you go.”

A sharp breath cut through Draco’s lungs as he gasped. He normally would have put up a front and some beautifully cool façade to deal with these kinds of things. He was a Malfoy and that was what they did. But Draco realized that there was nothing behind being ‘a Malfoy’ anymore. There were no more Malfoys. His father was likely dead or in Azkaban and his mother was dead. The rest of his relatives were likely in similar conditions. He was alone night. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to hide how he felt anymore.

“And why is he like this?” he asked softly, dreading the answer.

“Taking someone’s life is never without repercussion,” the Headmaster explained knowledgeably. “Harry is very young to do something like this. He had a massive burden to bear, something that few others could ever understand. Killing does terrible things to the soul. It tore a piece of Harry’s soul to kill Voldemort and be rid of him forever… It is impossible to know exactly why he ended up this way. It is probably his body’s reaction to such a heinously painful experience.”

Draco couldn’t stand anymore. He let his knees snap forwards and collapsed onto Harry’s bed. The thought of anything tearing any piece of Harry apart was too much for him. He knew that killing someone was terrible and had monumental repercussions on the killer, but he had never known that. He would have never made Harry use the Unforgivable curses at all if he had known that. He would have told Harry to run. He would have stolen him away and taken him as far as possible to protect him from that.

“When will he wake up?” Draco whispered, pearly tears streaming down his cheeks.

“We can’t know that,” Dumbledore admitted. “His condition is one that can be interminable. To wake him up, he would need something to stir him out of it. We’ve tried many things, but perhaps you can succeed where we have failed…”

Draco stared at Harry for a long moment. He thought on Dumbledore’s words and something small occurred to him. Without a moment’s though, Draco leaned forwards and brushed the tip of Harry’s nose with his own. He stared at the image of Potter’s face so close to his own and pressed their lips together. He held the embrace for a moment, not wanting to pull away. He finally leaned back, though, and held Harry’s face with his fingertips as though looking for a sign of life.

Harry didn’t move.

“Draco,” Dumbledore whispered, placing a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “You must also remember that Harry has suffered great emotional pain. A broken heart and a wounded soul make a combination of wounds that cannot heal quickly. I think Harry just needs some time.”

Then something occurred to Draco.

“Professor,” he asked. Dumbledore stopped just before the door, about to leave. “How long has it been since that night?”

“Two months,” he answered. “It’s July seventh.”

*_*_*

Draco threw out the week-old flowers from the vase and replaced them with a fresh bouquet. He tipped a florist’s potion into the vase and placed it back on the bedside table. He picked up the little tube of chapstick, sat himself next to Harry on the cot and ran the soft stick over the boy’s lips. He brushed the dark hair aside, revealing Harry’s scar, and laid down next to him on the bed.

It had been three and a half weeks since Draco first woke up and found out that the war was over; three weeks since he’d first seen the effect that it all had taken on Harry. He hadn’t left his side since.

The nurses had told him he was able to leave but Draco refused. He told them he needed to stay. He had given up his bed and took to sleeping in the chair next to Harry’s bed. On occasion, he would lie down next to Harry, much like he was doing now, and fall asleep next to him, dreaming of the day when Potter would wake up.

He would use the bathroom adjacent to the hospital room to shower and clean up every morning. He would only leave the room to go to the hospital cafeteria and pick up some food. He never, ever returned without a meal for Harry as well. If Harry didn’t wake up, he’d give the food to the other patients, or sometimes to one of the visitors that Harry got.

He wrapped an arm around Harry and held him close. He’d spent a lot of the time there in the hospital thinking. He thought of his mother and father. He thought of the Death-Eaters and of the Order. He wondered what had happened to all of them now. He read the Daily Prophet whenever he got the chance, but there was nothing particularly forthcoming about the subjects he was particularly interested in. Most of the stories were about Harry and the Order and few of them had much truth behind them.

The Daily Prophet was going downhill…

“’Ello Mr. Malfoy,” a bright and cheery woman’s voice greeted. A small brunette walked into the room carrying a clipboard. “How are you today?”

“I’m as can be expected, Giselle,” he answered truthfully. He gave her a small smile, running his fingers through Harry’s hair. He made no attempt to move. She sighed, exasperated at the sight of them.

“You should head home, perhaps,” she suggested to no avail. “We’ll take good care of Mr. Potter while you’re gone. You should go get a proper night’s sleep or at least some daylight.”

Draco shook his head.

“I’m fine here,” he answered with a small smile. “I need to stay. I love him and I’m never going to leave him again…”

*_*_*

There was a soft but bright light coming from somewhere. A warm weight was pushing down on his stomach but it was comforting and caring. He could hear voices. He couldn’t understand what was being said, but he didn’t really care just then. He felt calm and happy. His entire body was heavy, each of his limbs feeling as though they were a ton of bricks. Someone was playing gently with his hair and he felt little shiver run down his spine. He nuzzled his head into the touch and opened his eyes.

Harry found himself in what looked like a hospital room. It was sunny and bright despite the mundane decorations. His vision was blurred, but he figured that all hospitals rooms really looked the same, as though they were all cast from the same mold. He looked down at his stomach and saw that the warm weight on his torso was an arm. Following the trail of the limb his eyes made their way up a body and finally to a face. Still, through the blur, he would never mistake that blonde hair anywhere.

Draco was staring at him, wide-eyed and shocked. He looked like he was frozen in time for a moment or two before he shook himself out of the stupor and leaned over to hand Harry his glasses. Harry put them on and a similar look of shock drew itself on his face.

“Draco?” he asked quietly, a little concerned. “Am….. am I dead?”

“N-no,” he answered. He spoke very much like a person who cannot believe what is happening but plays along with it nonetheless.

“But…aren’t you dead?” he asked softly, unable to lift his head at all. Draco smiled at him and shook his head. “I saw Voldemort kill you…”

“He hit me with the curse,” Draco explained, a strange sadness drawn over his face. “But I didn’t die… you protected me.”

Harry was in disbelief. He tried hard to lift his arm; putting much more energy and thought into it than he should have required, before he was able to bring his hand around to caress Draco’s face. Draco cupped his hand around Harry’s and smiled. He seemed so relieved.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. His breath caught in his chest, remembering that night. “Draco, you…”

“I know I did some terrible things, Harry,” he interrupted quickly. “But I never meant to hurt you… I never meant to betray you. I love you, Harry…I love you.”

Harry heaved a dry and quiet sob, pulling his hand away carefully. He wanted to believe Draco but his heart didn’t quite like the idea so much. He licked his lips. They tasted like cherry.

“Draco, how could you think that breaking your promise and going back to them wasn’t going to hurt me?” His eyes glanced around the room. There were flowers in a vase next to his bed and a box on the chair next to him.

“I didn’t go back to hurt you, Harry,” he answered, casting his eyes away. “I went back to protect you.”

“How is that?” Harry bit his tongue for a moment, trying to understand Draco’s thinking.

“I got a letter from my father that day,” he mumbled. “Or at least I thought it was from him. Anyway, it said that Voldemort had inside information and was prepared to do anything to destroy me. It said that he would destroy everything within a ten kilometer radius of me if he had to. He was going to come for me that night if I didn’t show up first. It said he knew I was with you and he would torture you and kill you first, just to make me suffer. I thought that meant he knew where the Order was so I went to stop him. I couldn’t let him hurt you, so I went to kill him…but it didn’t turn out that way.”

“I don’t really understand how that can make sense to you,” Potter answered. “When I got there, you said all those terrible things… what was that for? Didn’t you know I would come for you?”

“Harry, I was an idiot,” he admitted, pleading. “I didn’t think you’d come for me. I hoped you would just think… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to come. Then when you did I thought that if I pretended to hate you, you would hate me too and leave, knowing I wasn’t worth saving.”

“You’re a bloody fool, then,” Harry said. “No matter how much I wanted to hate you then, I couldn’t. I love you, you idiot. It doesn’t change that easily.”

“I know that now,” he chuckled softly. He looked up at Harry with hopeful eyes. “Does that mean you still love me? Even after what a prat I’ve been?”

“I guess so, you did save my life,” Harry admitted, with a small smile. Then something hit him. “You were bleeding a lot when I was holding you… what was that?”

Without answering, Draco unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, revealing his chest. There was a long thing scar over his chest that branched out just over his heart. It looked something akin to a star. Harry raised a hand and traced a finger over it, much like Draco once did to his own scar.

“You have a scar… like me,” he whispered with a little smile. Draco smiled too, enjoying the touch.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But yours is sexy. Mine is right over my chest. It’s kind of ugly.”

Harry smiled and pulled Draco towards him with the one hand he had that seemed to be working. He kissed Draco deeply. The blonde wrapped his arms around Harry and held him close. Harry pulled away briefly with a small smirk.

“I think it’s hot.” Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and down the nape of his neck. His hand fell on something he hadn’t noticed. Pushing the blonde away to look him over, he saw a black band around Draco’s neck with a snake pendant, wrapped in on itself. “When did you get that?” he asked, fingering the pendant.

“I’ve had this for a long time,” he whispered. Draco slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out another black band. Pulling the band out, he held it out to show Harry. It had a small pendant in the shape of a Snitch. “This one is for you…”

“You never did explain to me why you wanted to give me a necklace,” Harry teased softly, taking the pendant in his hand to run his fingertip over it. Draco flushed a soft pink.

“I wanted to give you something,” he began, mildly embarrassed. “Something to show the world that you are mine… I figured you would like the Snitch one better.”

Harry stared at him for a few moments and smiled. He took the necklace into his hands and tied it around Draco’s neck instead. Then he pulled the Snake necklace around, undid the clasp and took it from him. Draco seemed perplexed.

“I want this one, then,” he said coyly.

“Why?” Malfoy asked, confused. Harry brought the silver pendant to his lips for a moment.

“Because this one represents you better,” he answered, holding it out for Draco to tie around his neck. “And I don’t ever want there to be any doubt.”

Draco bit his lip and smiled brightly at the boy. Tying the Snake necklace around Harry’s neck, he bent over and kissed him softly on the ear. Then he pulled back and kissed him full on the lips, licking the cherry lipbalm through the embrace. Harry smiled into the kiss and pulled Draco close, but he moved away to look into Harry’s eyes.

“By the way,” he added, his grey eyes shining. “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

A/N: OK so I have one more chapter after this one. Just one, yes, it’s going to be an epilogue-ish one just to sum things up and get them out of the hospital, because I don’t like hospitals at all. Anyway, I may add some snogging in the last one just for good measure because they deserve it after so long, but I don’t know just yet. Anyway, this one was a lot longer than the others, with good reason I think. I played with the necklace idea from way before and yeah. I’m more or less happy with how this chapter turned out… I like the ending anyway because it’s cute and oh-so-cheesy and I’m a cheeseball at heart so really, it’s fitting. Haha ok I’ll shut up now ^^ Last chapter up soon!