How to Save a Life

Harry was concerned about Draco. Ever since his initial display of emotion over news of his father’s illness, he had become cold and withdrawn. Gone was the affectionate and demonstrative boyfriend that Harry had come to love, and in his place was an automaton who, although he still had Draco’s features, reminded Harry a little too much of Lucius Malfoy for comfort.

Draco had allowed himself a few short hours to grieve over what he believed to be the imminent death of his father. As they had lain together on the Slytherin’s bed, Harry had never felt closer to another human being than he did to the vulnerable blonde wrapped in his arms.

But that had all ended abruptly when Harry woke up alone after their brief nap. He had been overcome with worry initially, searching frantically through almost the entirety of Slytherin house for any sign of his boyfriend.

He had been completely shocked when Pansy had informed him that the blonde was in fact in the library studying. Harry had wondered initially if this was just an excuse that Draco had used to spend some time alone. After all, this was certainly something Harry could understand, it was a tactic he had employed himself on many occasions.

When a cursory glance at the Marauders Map revealed that Draco was indeed ensconced in the library, Harry’s confusion only increased.

He found his boyfriend hidden behind a large pile of dusty books, apparently engrossed in his work. Harry slid silently into the chair opposite Draco and waited patiently to be acknowledged.

As seconds turned into minutes and Draco still hadn’t looked up from his work, Harry reached over the table and covered the blondes hand with his own, effectively stilling the movement of quill over parchment.

Draco looked up, an expression of irritation evident on his face.

“What do you want,Harry? I’m a bit busy right now.” He indicated the mountain of work with a flourish of his free hand.

The Gryffindor was momentarily stumped by this welcome but pressed on regardless.

“I woke up and you weren’t there, I was worried about you.”

“Yes, well as you can see for yourself I’m fine.”

Harry smiled almost indulgently at this blatant lie. Though Draco’s expression masked his emotions perfectly, his hair was dishevelled, his collar was wonky and there was a smudge of what looked like dirt on one pale cheek. All of these things spoke volumes to Harry about his boyfriend’s inner turmoil. Draco was never seen in public looking less than perfect.

“Draco,” Harry began gently, his thumb stroking over the blondes knuckles.

Before he could continue, Draco had wrenched his hand back.

“Not here,” he snapped. “People will see.”

“Let them,” Harry answered shortly, feeling his temper begin to rise in response to Draco’s attitude.

Draco rubbed at his eyes and despite himself Harry couldn’t help but think how adorable this made him look.

“What do you want from me, Harry? Why do you even care? You hate my father.”

“I care about you,” Harry snapped, stung by the accusation.

Draco let out a soft sigh and his features relaxed slightly.

“I’m sorry, that was unfair. Look can we do this later?” His tone was flat, betraying no emotion. But Harry didn’t miss the faint plea in his eyes.

“Ok,” Harry nodded, fighting to keep his tone neutral to avoid upsetting Draco further. He pushed his chair away from the table and looked at his boyfriend hopefully.

“Should I come down to the dungeons later?”

Draco scrubbed at his eyes again and there was, what seemed to Harry, a long pause before he answered.

“Probably best not tonight. I think I need to be on my own for a bit. You understand don’t you?”

“Sure, I understand. I guess I’ll see you at breakfast then?”

Draco nodded slowly, “Yes. And, Harry, thanks for earlier. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I do appreciate it.”

Harry fought to keep a smile on his face as he said his goodbyes and made his way out of the library. He did understand, really he did. But that didn’t help the fact that he felt like someone had gripped hold of his heart tight and was trying to pull it out of his chest. Draco was pushing him away, just as Harry had come to realise what the blonde meant to him and it hurt like hell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry tossed and turned in bed that night, sleep eluding him completely, his mind full of Draco and unable to process any other thoughts.

There had been no word from the Kingsley all day, though Harry had looked and looked for a glimpse of a Ministry owl. Harry just knew, as he curled up in to a small ball under his twisted sheets, that he had failed Draco.

The one thing he had been able to use his pathetic ‘Saviour’ status for and he had failed. Now Lucius Malfoy would die alone in Azkaban and the blonde would never forgive Harry for failing him in such an important way.

Finally unable to remain still any longer, Harry kicked the covers of his tired body and clambered out of his bed. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a warm jumper, grabbing his invisibility cloak, the marauders map and a small package from his bedside drawer. He tucked his wand in his pocket for good measure and slipped quietly out of the dormitory.

He stared at the tiny dot labelled ‘Draco Malfoy’ that was currently showing in the Slytherin Common room. Draco was obviously still awake and Harry wanted nothing more than to be by the blonde’s side, comforting him, soothing him to sleep.

Without realising where he was heading, Harry found himself outside the entrance to Slytherin house. The password was on the tip of his tongue, all he had to do was say it and he could be in there, holding Draco.

But there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of Harry’s stomach, a feeling that Draco didn’t want him there, didn’t need him. After all, he had already failed him in the one thing he could do, what else did he have to offer to the blonde.

He leant his aching head against the rough cold stone and trailed his fingertips down the wall, allowing himself to wallow in the feeling of misery that swept through him at being so close and yet so distant from Draco.

Harry turned away reluctantly, wandering aimlessly through the dungeons. He found himself outside the old Potions classroom where he and Draco had had their first kiss. Without thinking, he entered the room and cast a quick locking charm for privacy. He slid down the wall, tears forming in his eyes, a sickening coil of guilt twisting in his stomach.

As always happened when Harry was overwhelmed like this, memories of his other ‘failures’ came back to haunt him; Cedric’s lifeless body, Sirius’s face as he fell through the veil, Tonk’s and Remus’s body’s laid out on the floor of the Great Hall.

How could anybody call him ‘saviour’ when so many people had suffered because of him? Hot tears now spilled down his cheeks and his breathing became more erratic as he was completely lost to this pit of despair.

Harry knew there was only one way to make himself feel better now and he reluctantly fingered the small parcel in his pocket. His hand shaking, he withdrew the package from his jeans and unwrapped it slowly. The moonlight shining through the window glittered on the shard of broken glass that Harry now held in his hand.

Harry found it ironic that just the action of holding this...thing, made him feel instantly better. His breathing calmed down and the twisting sensation in his gut slackened.

With heartbreaking clinical detachment, Harry rolled back the sleeve of his jumper, laying bare the unmarked flesh of his left forearm. A whispered word and the glamour was ended, the pale skin now littered with faint silver and pink scars.

Harry lovingly traced a fingertip over these reminders of his past failings, remembering the release that each one had offered him.

Unable to resist any longer, he pressed the sharp edge against his arm and dragged it across the skin, watching with satisfaction as the first drops of blood began to trickle out of the wound. He repositioned the shard further down his arm and pressed harder this time, slicing his flesh open.

It took four cuts this time before Harry was satisfied that it was enough. Small rivers of blood now ran down his arm, pooling on the floor at his side. The drips were almost hypnotic to Harry and he was unable to tear his gaze away.

He leant back against the wall; tears drying on his cheeks, his breathing now back to normal. He felt purged; there was no other word for it. He had paid enough...for tonight, anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but the stiffness in his neck indicated it had been sometime. The sight of dried blood all down his arm made him feel instantly sick and he was forced to choke down the bile that rose in his throat.

In the cold light of morning the angry wounds never seemed as necessary or as satisfying. They only served to remind him of his weakness and compound his feelings of guilt.

Harry quickly tugged his sleeve down over his ill-treated limb and cast a cleaning charm on the dried blood that surrounded him. He jumped to his feet and instantly spotted the object that had caused all the damage.

He felt a sudden urge to stamp hard on it, to smash it beyond recognition, so it could do no further damage. But as quickly as he raised his foot to do so, a brief flash of panic shot through him; worry at how he would cope without this form of release. He lowered his foot slowly, bent down and gingerly wrapped his fingers round it, wrapping it carefully. Once it was tucked safely in his pocket, Harry felt calm again.

After a quick glance at the Marauders map showed that the coast was clear, Harry unlocked the classroom and headed quickly out of the dungeons and back up to Gryffindor tower.

He was infinitely grateful that all his roommates were still asleep when he returned to his room. He headed into the bathroom, slowly removed his clothing and stepped gratefully into the warm water of the shower.

Once he felt thoroughly cleansed after the previous nights activities, Harry exited the shower, dried himself and then promptly recast the glamour charm on his arm, watching in fascination as the scar littered skin quickly became smooth and blemish free. Not for the first time, Harry felt infinitely grateful to Hermione for the discovery of this particular spell.

Noting that there was still almost an hour before breakfast started, Harry pulled on his pyjamas and sank gratefully into his soft bed, feeling it cradle his aching limbs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Monday morning came round, Harry was struggling to motivate himself to get out of bed. He hadn’t seen Draco all weekend, not since their brief conversation in the library. When the blonde hadn’t shown up for any meals or made any effort to contact him, Harry was sure he could feel his heart breaking just a little.

It had taken all of his strength to remain in his bed the night before, to resist adding further scars to his new collection.

Harry lay in bed, unwilling or unable to get up, listening to the receding voices of his housemates as they made their way down to breakfast. He was nervous, worried about seeing Draco and scared what this weekend could mean for the two of them.

He heard the door open and instantly mumbled, “Alright, I’m getting up now.”

Before he had chance to move, or even think about moving, the hangings on his bed were pulled back and a warm body flung itself on to him.

“Draco,” Harry gasped, “How...why?”

“Two excellent questions, Harry, both of which I plan to answer right after I do this.”

Draco then captured Harry’s lips in a kiss so fierce and demanding that Harry was helpless to do anything other than submit totally. Draco’s tongue plundered Harry’s mouth, tasting every inch, while his hands raked over his body. The kiss ended almost as quickly as it began, leaving Harry breathless and a little confused.

"Thank you," the blonde murmured against his lips.

Draco sat up and then straddled Harry’s body, looking down at his raven haired boyfriend with a contrite expression on his face.

“I’ve been an arse all weekend and I’m so sorry.”

Harry reached a hand up to touch Draco’s face, as if to reassure himself that the blonde was actually there.

“It’s ok, Dray, you had more important things to worry about.”

Draco took hold of Harry’s hand and held it so tightly that the Gryffindor almost winced at the grasp.

“No,” he said emphatically. “Not more important than you, don’t ever think that. I was a git and I don’t deserve you.”

Harry smiled sweetly at this, the worry that had plagued him for the last two days dissipating totally at these words.

“How about I forgive you then and you can tell me what brought about this change of heart, and how the hell you came to be in Gryffindor tower?”

“Believe it or not the answer to both questions is Longbottom.”

“Neville,” Harry questioned, even more confused than ever now. “What’s Neville got to do with it?”

A slight pink flush crept into Draco’s cheeks as he spoke.

“He read me the riot act last night, didn’t know he had it in him to be honest. Told me I was being a selfish git and that I didn’t deserve you...and he’s right. Then just as he’s leaving he gives me this piece of paper with your password on it and tells me if I don’t use it he will be asking the sorting hat for Gryffindor’s sword again.”

Harry actually burst out laughing at the thought of Neville threatening Draco, a boy who had once terrified him.

“Blimey, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day when you were running scared from Neville. But it must have worked, you seem a lot happier.”

“Well, there is another reason for that.” Draco leaned over the side of the bed and picked up a parchment he had dropped upon ambushing Harry. “I had a letter from Mother.”

“And?” Harry questioned, almost too scared to hear the answer.

“I think I’ll let her tell you herself.” Then upon seeing Harry’s confused expression, he thrust a parchment in his direction, “There’s a letter for you as well.”

Harry scrambled into an upright position and warily took the letter from Draco. “Your mum wrote me a letter?” he asked in incredulous tones. “But why?”

“Well I don’t know, I don’t go reading other peoples mail. Though I would suggest that opening it is a good way to find out.”

Harry gave Draco a playful smack on the arm before turning back to his letter with worried eyes. Draco did not miss the fact that his hands shook slightly as he broke through the ornate Malfoy seal on the back.


Dear Mr Potter,

It would appear that I once again owe you a
very great debt of gratitude.

My son advises me that the two of you have,
of late, come to an understanding, friendship
even. I can only assume that it was your concern
for Draco that prompted such unprecedented
actions on your part.

Regardless of your motivations, please allow me
to express my heartfelt gratitude for the opportunity
you have given me. I know not what I have done to
deserve such kindness on your part but it is
appreciated far more than mere words would
ever allow me to express.

Not only have I been allowed to visit my husband but I
also had my liberty returned to me. Which is something,
I must confess, that I never thought to have again.

I will not ask forgiveness for past wrongs as neither myself
nor my husband deserves such consideration from you.
However, I wish you to know that I heartily regret the
wrongs that I have done you over the years.

You have grown into a fine young man,
one any parent would be proud of and I could
not be happier that my son now counts you
among his friends.

With deepest gratitude,

Narcissa Malfoy.


Harry doubted if his eyes could get any wider as they had while he read this letter. When he finally lowered the parchment it was to find Draco smiling at him softly. Harry opened his mouth to speak but found himself unable to form words as his brain would not allow him to process them fully.

Narcissa Malfoy had written to him, and such a letter too.

He looked at Draco, a question on the tip of his tongue, but not quite wanting to spoil the moment by asking it. The blonde, sensing this, simply nodded and smiled.

“My father is going to be ok. He’s still quite ill, but he will not die.”

Harry quickly wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and pulled him into a warm hug.

“I’m really pleased for you, honestly I am.”

“I know you are, Harry, I didn’t really mean what I said the other day. I was just lashing out.”

Draco pulled back from the embrace as quickly as Harry had enfolded him in it. He thrust a second parchment at Harry.

“You should read this; it’s my mother’s letter to me.”

Harry shook his head stubbornly, “I can’t read that, Dray, it’s private.”

“Just read it, please.”

Looking down at the now familiar script of Narcissa Malfoy, Harry began, once again, to read.

My Darling Draco,

I hope this letter finds you in better
spirits than I fear my last one did.

Let me first put your mind at ease.
I have seen your father and all is well.
He is still very poorly and weak but I
am assured by the healers that he
will live for many years yet.

I managed to have a few brief words
alone with him and he sends you
his love.

You may be puzzled as to how this
abrupt change came to pass so soon
after my last letter. I must admit to
having been somewhat confused
myself by the speed with which
it all happened.

I had almost resigned myself to never
seeing your father again, when I received
an owl from the Ministry – from the Minister
himself, if you please. Not only was I at
liberty to visit your father, but the
investigation is over and I am a free woman
once again. I cannot begin to express to you
how wonderful that feels.

Reading between the lines of this missive,
I suspect that the Malfoy’s are once again
indebted to your Mr Potter as this bears
all the hallmarks of a rash Gryffindor
intervention.

Do not get upset by my terming him so
as I truly believe after this that he is
just that, yours. I realise that you have
never gone into details regarding your
relationship with Mr Potter. But I am a mother,
Draco, your mother, and I know you as well
as I know myself.

I must admit to having wondered over the
years regarding the two of you, such was
the passionate nature of your every interaction.

Anyway, I will say no more on the subject
(as I am sure you will tell me when you are ready,)
save to say how lucky you are to have
someone who obviously cares so much
for your wellbeing.

Please pass on the enclosed letter to our
young benefactor so that I may properly
present my thanks.

Your loving mother.


As Harry lowered the parchment he realised that he had been wrong, it was possible for his eyes to grow wider. So much so, that he actually thought they were in danger of falling out.

He flopped back on the bed in shock. “Draco,” he began in a quavering voice. “Your mother...she knows.”

“Yes, I rather think she does. She always was a very perceptive woman where I was concerned, never could hide anything from her.”

Draco let out a chuckle as Harry groaned loudly and clamped a hand to his forehead.

“I’m doomed,” he muttered melodramatically.

“Don’t be such a wuss, Potter. Now get your arse out of this bed so I can get out of this rather hideous room.” Draco looked round distastefully, “Doesn’t all this red and gold give you headaches?”

“Nope, that would be you,” Harry teased, before he wisely leapt out of bed and headed for the safety of a locked bathroom door.

“I’ll let that remark pass this time, Potter, seeing as how you just swooped to my families rescue. But anymore remarks like that and you will be in so much trouble, you’ll be praying for detention with Filch.

A muffled snigger from behind the closed door had Draco rolling his eyes, before he sat down on the bed to wait for his boyfriend, a warm smile stretched over his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~