Careless Whisper

12.10.03

Disclaimer: Only in my dream world do these characters belong to me and not J.K. Rowling.

A/N: His love for Draco was a lot like the war with Voldemort… is taken from an anonymous quote. “Loving is so short, forgetting is so long.” Is from “Tonight I can write the saddest lines” by Pablo Neruda. “If she is your whole world, how quickly the sun sets now” is from my favorite poet Marge Piercy, although I can’t put my finger on which poem.

Careless Whisper
Ch 3 – More Than Words

Draco woke from an unfitful sleep and adjusted to his surroundings. He had fallen asleep in the living room. His body ached, and his eyes felt heavy from the tears he had shed hours before. Draco went to his desk and pulled out some parchment. He would have to owl Ron to find out exactly what had happened to Harry.

“Dear Ron,
I know that I was not intended to hear what happened in your office the other day; however, I think you will find what I am requesting is only fair. I NEED to know what happened to Harry. Is he alright? Who hurt him? I have done a great deal of soul searching since I overheard you and Hermione yesterday, and I need to make things right. Please, tell me where he is, how he is. Can I see him? Tell him I’m thinking of him.
Draco L. Malfoy”

Draco read over his letter again and sent it on his fastest owl. It sounded good, not too needy or desperate.


*****


Ron and Hermione had stayed at the hospital the night before. Although they had lost touch with Harry over the past year, they still thought of him as family, and they knew they were the only type of family Harry had anymore. Neville had kept them up to date on any changes in Harry’s condition. It was apparent that he had been struggling with something in his sleep; even the untrained eye could see that. Neville had last told them that Harry’s brainwaves had made no changes over the past several hours. There was no chance of him waking anytime soon. He advised them to head home and get some rest. Reluctantly, the couple obeyed.


Apparating into their apartment, Ron plopped onto the couch, his head in his hands. Hermione came over to him and put her arm around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” she started.

Ron looked up at her with a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Sorry for what, Hermione?”

Unshed tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. “For not being able to do more. If I had only listened to my gut instinct, I could have stopped him from doing this. If I hadn’t been so determined to finish my classes, I could have prevented this. Why didn’t I find him sooner?” Hermione whispered, blaming herself for her friend’s comatose form lying in the hospital.

“Baby, baby, you did the right thing. You couldn’t have known what you would find when you got there. I just thank Merlin you did go. Can you imagine what would have happened if you had only owled him? Harry would be dead. Hermione, you saved his life. You saved him; you didn’t do this to him. He did it to himself. Please don’t blame yourself,” Ron pulled her into a hug, placing a gentle kiss at her temple.

She let herself be pulled into the comfort of his embrace. “God, Ron, what if he doesn’t make it?”

The question was rhetorical; there was no way for Ron to answer. Instead, Ron refused to think about that result. “Of course he’s going to wake up, Hermione. He’s going to wake up, and we’re going to find out what happened. Then, he’s going to start therapy. I should have made him start therapy a year ago -- I knew he needed to talk to someone. I guess I’ve just been hoping he would talk to me when the time was right. Don’t worry, baby, Harry will pull out of this,” he said, hoping that she believed it more than he did.

Just then, there was a tapping at the window. Looking up, Ron saw Draco’s owl scratching for admittance. Sighing, Ron opened the window and took the letter from the owl. Reading it, Ron realized that having Draco in the hospital would make or break the battle Harry was having with himself. He took it over for Hermione to peruse.

“I think we should ask Neville first. How about you?” he asked, eyeing her.

Hermione nodded in agreement. “Yes, and I think we should ask him sooner rather than later. Let’s grab a shower and a bite to eat and head back to the hospital.”

Ron headed to the shower while Hermione removed sandwich fixings from the refrigerator and made them a quick repast.


*****


Harry drifted into another memory…

It was two weeks after Draco had left him, or rather asked him to leave. Harry was sitting in an empty loft he had just rented when an owl stopped by, delivering a notice. Harry had no furniture of his own; he and Draco had bought everything together. Harry let Draco keep it. He wouldn’t have been able to sit on anything they had bought together anyway. Turning over the notice, he recognized the wax seal on the letter. It was from the jeweler he had found in Dublin the last time he had been there. The Celtic ring he had ordered was ready. Harry balled up the letter and wiped at the tears still stubbornly seeping from his eyes. He wouldn’t be needing that ring since there was no one to propose to at this point. Harry mentally kicked himself for screwing things up with Draco. How on earth was he going to face life without him? His love for Draco was a lot like the war with Voldemort -- it started easily enough, but ending it was another matter entirely. Harry had spent several sleepless nights designing that ring for Draco, and now Draco would never see it.

Harry shifted slightly and sank once again into the shadows of sleep.


*****


Draco was looking through the book of love poetry from that night so long ago. Flipping to random pages, reading random lines, Draco found lines from two poems that screamed at him from the page:

Loving is so short, forgetting is so long.

If she is your whole world, how quickly the sun sets now.

Granted Harry hadn’t left him for a girl, but the line was still beautiful. And Draco was beginning to realize just how long forgetting was. Draco smiled sadly, realizing these muggle poets had a perspective and way of describing things that eluded most wizard poets. Sometimes it didn’t help to know the secrets of manipulating an emotion as great as love. He sat waiting for Ron’s reply to his letter, drifting into memories yet again…


Draco had been out of town on auror business for three days. There had been a major Dark Arts coup in Wales that had to be taken care of. When he returned, Harry greeted him at the door, wrapping his arms around him. Draco relished in the proximity of the other man. Draco loved when Harry held him as though Draco were his anchor to earth.
Harry took Draco out to dinner and flirted with him incessantly, acting as though they were on their first date instead of being together for a year and a half. Harry often kissed Draco’s hand, or grabbed at Draco’s ass as he walked by. Harry seemed to exhibit the need to keep in physical contact with Draco all evening.
The couple went to a movie where Harry kept his arm around Draco. He leaned over and blew into Draco’s ear, whispering the things he would do to his lover when they returned home. Draco found himself continuously changing positions in the seat as the arousal straining in his pants began to grow uncomfortable.
Once inside the apartment, Harry shoved Draco against the closed door and kissed him deeply and passionately. His tongue forced entry into Draco’s mouth, although Draco didn’t give much of a fight. They kissed fiercely all the way to the bedroom, shedding coats and shoes and mittens along the way.
Once in the bedroom, Harry had slowed things down. “We have all night, love. No need to rush,” he had said. Harry tortured Draco. Drawing him to the brink of release time and time again, only to leave him there. Harry explored every inch of Draco’s body with his eye, hands, and mouth. He left nowhere untouched. He rubbed Draco’s body with a sandalwood scented oil and kissed him from his toes all the way to the spot just on the back of his neck that drove Draco insane. Every time Draco had reached out to touch Harry, Harry had only rebuffed him and changed positions. Draco finally laid back and allowed himself to be fawned over -- and Harry did fawn over him. Leaning up to again savor the taste of Draco’s mouth, Harry whispered, “Let me worship you.” By the time Harry entered Draco, the sun had begun to rise in the east and Draco cried at the exquisite pleasure his lover brought him. Harry had made love to him slowly, expecting nothing in return. Draco was so aroused that he came screaming Harry’s name the first time the man had brushed his prostate. Seeing that Draco was satiated, Harry withdrew and wrapped himself around Draco. Draco asked no questions and quickly fell asleep after his release. Harry had never once spoken the words “I love you” that night, but Draco heard it because Harry’s actions spoke much louder than words. He had never slept better than that night in the arms of the only man he had ever loved…

Draco shook his head sadly. So many good memories. Why did he remember them now that Harry wasn’t his anymore? Why remember them when he was sure Harry would no longer be willing to forgive him for what happened that night?

Draco decided not to wait for Ron’s reply. He had other things to worry about. There was a long overdue conversation Draco needed with his old school chum Zabini. Getting dressed quickly, Draco headed to Hogwarts.


*****


Hermione and Ron arrived back at the hospital, finding that Harry had had another jump in his brainwave activity. Neville looked apprehensive when they mentioned Draco. “I understand why Draco would want to be here, but the fact is we don’t know how Draco’s presence would affect Harry. Unless he wakes up, I would have to guard against it. But I’ll make a deal with you. If Harry has made no progress, either positive or negative, in the next 24 hours then Draco can come here and speak with him. Harry is fighting his demons right now. I don’t want to take the chance that Draco is one of the demons that could destroy him…” Neville wanted his friend to get better and even be happy, but everything in his professional core was warning him against this move.

“It’s much like casting a spell to bring him out of this sleep. Since we don’t know what pills he took or what his mental state is, it is best to let him come out of it naturally. He seems to be holding his own just now. The rest is up to him. It all depends on whether he wants to wake up,” Neville finished.

Hermione and Ron nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Hermione had one question though.

“Can we talk to him about Draco? Tell him that Draco wants to talk to him and see him?”

Neville thought for a moment before answering. “I see no reason why not. Perhaps that is something he needs to hear, but I need to see how he does over the next few hours before I decide to let Draco in here.”
Ron and Hermione agreed and went back into the room to be with their friend.


*****


Draco apparated into Hogsmeade and continued up to Hogwarts. He was not surprised when Dumbledore greeted him at the front doors. “Draco, my dear boy, I haven’t seen you in ages. Care for a lemon drop? No? I believe you will find Professor Zabini in the dungeons. Do stop by more often, Draco; it would do an old wizard good to see such a promising young wizard,” Dumbledore smiled at him before he walked quickly away. Draco walked away, again amazed at the secret wealth ofwledwledge the old man had.

Blaise Zabini had taken over the position of Potions Master after Snape had been killed in the final battle (Draco had been so outraged he had flung Avada Kedavra at his own father, Lucius, without even flinching). Blaise had been a reluctant professor, unsure of himself. Still, he had been teaching for years now, and thedentdents loved him. He had the personality that Snape lacked.

Draco looked into the potions classroom seeing the man bent over his desk. Blaise hadn’t changed much since that night in the hole-in-the-wall bar. Draco couldn’t help but wonder what had drawn Blaise to that place that night anyway. Who would have thought that Blaise would have been the one place Harry had never been to before that night? Or that was Harry’s story, at least. It was time Draco investigated the matter further.

Taking a breath and drawing himself up to his fullest height, Draco pulled on his trademark smirk and entered the room. “Well, my old Slytherin mate, I think we’re about a year overdue for a very serious conversation,” Draco started.

Blaise looked up, clearly surprised at this intruder. He frowned, however, when he realized who it was and what he no doubt wanted. Blaise gestured to the seat in front of him and Draco sat down.

“You want something to drink, Malfoy? I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night…”