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 49: Better Days To Come


Harry sat at the desk in his room, reflecting on the night and morning he’d had. It had been a difficult night, but morning had been a taste of paradise. He actually woke up later than Draco for once, and Draco had a rather nice way of waking him. Harry woke up with the faint and insistent realization that he was being kissed, and Draco’s repeated attention to his neck and to his lower lip was both welcome and thoroughly pleasurable. Harry had been confused for all of a second before he managed to start kissing Draco back, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around him the entire while.

They both had ‘morning breath’, their hair was a mess, and they were both still groggy because of the early hour, but it meant nothing. There was a brilliant newness to what they were doing that seared away any imperfections that might have marred their thoughts about the moment. Harry had only been conscious of how closely Draco was curled against him, and how warm and comfortable the entire arrangement was. Draco’s hand was resting nervously on Harry’s chest, while his mouth was busy savaging the line of Harry’s jaw. They were both completely aware of the fact that Draco was pressing something which was rapidly growing erect into Harry’s left thigh, and neither of them really cared at that moment.

There were copious murmurs of affection, which were all they could get out between rounds of snogging. Harry wasn’t sure it would have ended when it did, had it not been for the soft squeak that Draco made before pulling away, scarlet-cheeked, with an apology and an announcement that he needed the bathroom…immediately. Harry was much too polite to mock Draco for it, but he had a pretty fair idea of what had happened. He’d been awfully close to coming as well, and only Draco’s sudden halt had prevented it.

Harry’s shower that morning had been his chance to relieve his ’tension’, and he hadn’t wasted a minute of it. Not that he’d had much choice. His erect penis had been clamoring for attention before he even made it under the water, and it had taken less than a minute’s worth of attention, imagining holding Draco closely, before he released rather more than the usual amount of white droplets into the shower.

Breakfast had been subdued, but pleasant, and Ron was put off by all the blushing and smiling at the table, so he made mock gagging noises while motioning to indicate nausea. Harry responded with a hasty two finger salute while Molly’s back was turned, and Draco responded with all the dignity at his command…by sticking his tongue out. Arthur, aware of the entire spectacle, rolled his eyes and paid careful attention to his oatmeal, toast and jam. Eventually, it was time for Draco to go to work, and after a few mournful looks of farewell at the fireplace, Draco, in full view of everyone else, leaned up and kissed Harry on the mouth before stepping into the Floo and vanishing in a puff of green flame.

Ron had turned red and left for the kitchen immediately after Draco vanished, and Harry had glared and demanded to know what was wrong.

“I need a fork and a spoon.”

“What? Why?”

“I mean to shove the spoon down me throat so I can puke properly, and the fork is for my eyeballs. You two are so sickly sweet I think I just lost two teeth!”

“Hah! You think that’s bad? We started the day with a snog that lasted almost twenty minutes! You can poke your eyes or puke all you want, but I think I bloody died and went to queer heaven.”

“Oy. Harry. What happened between you two last night? One day it's all gloom an’ doom, the next morning it’s singing birds and whatnot. What gives?”

“I found a way to help Draco get better. Really better. No shakes, no nightmares kind of better. He’ll be as well off as anyone could possibly be after what he’s been through. I just need a little help to get it done.”

“You need a hand or something? I can help if you need me.”

“No thanks, Ron. This time…this time I need Snape. I wrote a letter for him, and I’m owling it off today. I hope I can get him to try coming here. Draco needs this.”

That had silenced Ron for the rest of the morning. The notion of Severus Snape setting foot in the Burrow was enough to send Ron off in a daze, and he saluted Harry with a slightly glazed over look before Flooing back to his flat to get ready for a meeting with his agent.

Harry had returned to his room and cleaned up a bit. There were scraps of parchment and abandoned letters everywhere. He picked them up one by one, reading them before he threw them away.

‘Dear Murdering Bastard,’

‘You Traitorous Son Of A Bitch,’

‘Die! Die, you fucking bastard! Die!’

‘You were right to run, you greasy turncoat fuck!’

It had taken several dozen tries to work out his distaste for Severus Snape before a decent letter even started to take shape, but it was worth every minute of grief, every second of bile, if it would get the man to come back to England…if only for this. Harry unfolded the parchment he’d produced the night before and read it one last time.

To Severus Snape,

Maybe you expected a letter like this someday, and maybe you didn’t. I can’t say, but this is mine to say: You’re needed here as soon as you can come.

Draco Malfoy needs your help…and it has to be your help. He needs a Master Legilimens, one with the skill to heal his mind, and ward his memories.

Draco has endured more than any human being should have to, and he’s alive to tell of it, but he isn’t the same person you remember.

He nearly starved to death on his own and he needed to eat, and a cluster of people you might recall lured him off with the promise of food. Hyde-Pratt. MacNair. LeStrange. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what those three were capable of. It’s enough to say that he spent about a year as their captive. He’s lucky he’s alive at all. As it is, it took weeks to heal him properly and remove almost all of the scarring, but we can’t heal his mind. I can’t heal his mind.

Whatever he did wrong years ago, he’s paid for a hundred times over, and there’s nothing left of the person who took the Mark. Of this I am sure. This is why I’m willing to go to any lengths to see him well again.

I’ve been told by a lot of people that you were Albus Dumbledore’s closest confidant, and that he was your oldest friend. If there is anything left of that friendship, you’ll remember that your friend, our friend, died because he believed Draco wasn’t a killer. I used to think he was wrong, just as I once thought he was wrong about you. It’s become clear to me that I sometimes rush to judgment, and I am willing to admit that I’ve wronged you.

You were cleared by the Ministry. Shacklebolt and Tonks swore that your testimony was true, and it was the evidence from Dumbledore’s own Pensieve that convinced them. I ignored it all, because I couldn’t stop seeing my friend die at your hands. Dumbledore was right. Draco isn’t a killer, and he never was. If Dumbledore was right about that, then just maybe he was right about you too.

I wronged you. I apologize. I am sorry for what I did, and I hope it isn’t too late for me to make it right. England is your home. You belong here. I had no right to expect you to leave. I want you to come back.

Name your terms. If you can help Draco, I will do whatever you ask. Funds, equipment, assistance, I can acquire whatever you need. I will undo what I have done, if you can just help him have a normal life again.

If you doubt my sincerity, let me end this letter with this. I am begging you to help him. You are the only person I know of that can help, and I will do anything, undertake any task, endure anything to see him well again. Please come to the Weasley Burrow. You have my oath as a wizard that no harm will come to you, and that if you can’t do anything to help, you may leave in peace, and England is still your home.

Please come.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Harry folded the letter again and placed it in an envelope. He folded the envelope and placed that inside another envelope, this time including a letter to the twins. Fred and George had an informant network that rivaled any operation in Europe, and it was all wizard-based. As soon as they had a place to send the letter, it would be sent. The only reason he hadn’t sent the letter along with Draco was to protect the secrecy of that network of snitches, and Fred and George needed to remain uninvolved by all appearances.

The envelope felt heavier than it really was. So much was hanging on Snape, and on this letter, that it felt like it weighed a ton when Harry carried it downstairs. Harry rarely used owl post, since it always reminded him of Hedwig. He’d never actually replaced his owl, and he still felt no desire to do so. Hedwig had been shot down while Harry was living at Grimmauld place with the Order, near the closing days of the war. Even at the Dursleys', Hedwig had been the one constant reminder that he was a wizard, and the only pet he’d ever had. Funny, that a person could miss a bird that way, but seven years was a long time to know anyone…even a pet…especially if you were Harry. When he had to, Harry used the Weasleys' owls, and that would do for now. Perhaps someday…if he left here with Draco…he’d see about another owl, but it was still hard to imagine another bird taking Hedwig’s place.

Harry watched owl and letter wing skyward, and trudged back indoors for a bite of lunch with Molly. From here it would be a matter of counting days until Snape answered…if he answered at all.

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Draco started work feeling cheerful enough. Actually, giddy would have been a more apt description, but he privately loathed the word, even if he understood the feeling. To say he felt giddy made him sound like some innocent schoolgirl with a crush and a perpetual giggle…which he most definitely was not! The problematic blush that hadn’t left his cheeks since shortly after waking…well…that was another matter.

‘I can’t believe this morning even happened. I did not just come from snogging Harry…didn’t happen. Had to be a dream. I…I’ve never done anything like that before. There are so many things I have done, but never that. Never because I was snogging a boyfriend. He was so sweet about it. He knew I’d just die if he mentioned it. It’s like Charlie and Dula. He just knew. This could work. I’m not crazy for wanting this. I’m not even foolish. There’s something here I have every right to want…well…except for the sticky shorts. I didn’t really want those. Severus Snape…wherever you are, soon is not fast enough. I need you here yesterday! Fix my bloody head and turn me loose on Harry! I don’t know how long I can hold out on just snogging. On second thought, I might be able to survive a paltry seventy or eighty years of it. Yeah…that would be alright.’

Draco smiled and flicked through his paperwork. He tried to go about business with his usual thoroughness, and the twins were unfailingly polite and seemed happy to see him back so soon. It was obvious that they knew at least part of what had happened at the Cannons’ clubhouse, and they were clearly trying to make sure Draco was comfortable. Despite being clever bastards in their own right, they were Gryffindors, and they were showing it in their own unique way.

Fred had wandered in with a sheaf of new papers, and then sat down on the edge of the desk. Draco looked up expectantly, waiting to hear what the red-head had to say.

“Here are the latest statements for income. That covers everything up to this last month. This month’s will be ready a lot faster, now that we know you need it. Good to see you back, Draco, but we wanted you to know that you could have taken the rest of the week off if you needed it. We’re not exactly slave-drivers here, and we saw the mess in the paper. Harry didn’t say much, but we assumed that if he was Firecalling for you, it must have been a tough time. Just don’t feel like you can’t take time off for something important…okay?”

That was a bit of a surprise to Draco. He took what he was doing rather seriously, since it was his first job, and he had no intention of accepting his pay without earning it. Charity had been for when he couldn’t survive on his own. Those days were over, and Draco meant to keep them that way…forever.

“Thanks. Really. I’m…alright. Better than alright today. Harry and I worked some things out last night that we really needed to talk about…and I’m feeling better. It’s nice of you, though, to tell me that.”

Fred looked relieved. To be honest, he’d felt guilty about Draco coming back to work so quickly, but if Draco was comfortable, then so be it.

“Alright. If you get bored…or at least remember to take lunch, just come join us in the main office. We don’t stand on ceremony here. I’m off to see the latest owled orders. See you later?”

Draco nodded yes with a smile and waited until Fred was on his way out. Then a smirk crossed his face just before he spoke.

“Oh…Fred? By the way, I have a wand. About that order for ten thousand Amazing Bouncing Ferrets? It’s the reason I spelled the desk to cover the back of your pants in black ink.”

“You didn’t…!”

Fred whipped around, checking his bum, which was completely clean. Draco chuckled wickedly.

“Not this time, I didn’t…but I got you looking. Watch your back and I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

Fred pursed his lips, looking speculatively at Draco, then broke into a truly evil grin.

“Oh, is it ever on now! And to think I was afraid you weren’t going to fit in! You’re toast, Ferret Boy! Just you wait!”

Draco stuck his chin out defiantly.

“We’ll see about that…won’t we, Bookend! If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do…when I can take a break from plotting your downfall. You’re going down in flames, Weasley.”

The banter set a pleasant mood as the afternoon wound down. Draco kept his mind on his work, except for intercepting and disarming two booby-trapped letters. How dare they even imply that a Slytherin would fall for such amateurish tactics. It was almost an insult! His retaliation was swift and subtle. The charm he’d placed on the toilet got someone, but he couldn’t be sure who. He only knew it worked when he heard muffled curses from down the hall. It was an easy charm to remove, causing a person to remain stuck to the surface they’d sat upon, but the point was that he’d successfully gotten one of the dreaded twins. It was on…indeed!

Productivity took a sharp downturn from there. By the time Dula arrived in the office Floo, coughing and dusting off soot, he was the accidental victim of a crossfire between Draco and Ella, whom he’d rallied to his cause, and Fred and George, who were hiding behind pillars and firing minor hexes in tandem. The damage was very minor…except to Dula’s dignity. It’s hard to remain serious and sober looking while heaving loose the results of a Bat Bogey Hex. The combat ceased immediately and counter spells were promptly applied, along with apologies that were entirely sincere. Dula coughed a little and smiled.

“I have not been the victim of that hex since I was a student. Do not worry. I am fine, but curious. Is this how your workday normally goes? If so, I am suddenly certain that the handling of dragons is a safer occupation than I had imagined.”

Fred and George cracked up, while Ella looked terribly embarrassed around Dula. She’d been the victim of many a prank in the past year, and she had enjoyed fighting back without restriction for once, but her sense of professionalism had reemerged and it was hard to take her job seriously after accidentally participating in the hexing of a guest. Draco spoke up for the lot of them.

“It’s good to see you, Dula. We were just settling a little inter-office dispute about who is the better prankster. Things got a little out of hand. What brings you this way?”

Draco kept up the pretense of surprise, knowing that Dula had likely chosen a public visit because it would allay any suspicion about Draco’s correspondence. The spells could be slipped to Draco at any time now, and no one would think anything of it. Durmstrang was the one school that produced students like Slytherin House, and it was comforting to deal with a person whose mind worked in subtle ways.

“I was concerned by the report in your Daily Prophet. Charlie read a little of it in the newspaper at home and purchased one of the papers from England to learn more. He is worried for Harry and Ron, as well as for you, and I decided to take my lunch and come here. Knowing that you are all well will set his mind at ease. Do you have the time to take your lunch? Or have I come at a bad time?”

Draco assured Dula that the timing was perfect, and that they need to get back to work soon anyway. Fred and George chatted a bit, and relented when Dula asked to take lunch with Draco. After all, the reason for the visit was to establish the well being of Harry, Ron and Draco after the clubhouse fiasco, and Draco was the only first-hand witness. The twins rather gracefully took Ella out to lunch for Indian cuisine, by way of apology for the Itching Hexes that they’d pelted her with earlier. That left Draco and Dula alone for awhile, and their conversation immediately turned serious.

Draco held out his wand, smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you…and Charlie. The dragon tear was a princely gift. I can’t believe you gave up something like that for me. I…there are no words for this. Just thank you…both of you. This is one of the most incredible wands I’ve ever seen, and it’s a perfect match…thanks to you two and Harry.”

“You’re most welcome, Draco. It was well used for this purpose, and you deserve a wand with such poetry. A rod of yew, tempered by many storms, sundered and made anew, flexible enough to endure in the face of many troubles. The feather of a phoenix, willingly given, the symbol of death and rebirth, beauty rising from ashes. The tear of a dragon, an eternal monument that proves even great sorrow and loss can mark the birth of something beautiful and enduring. You deserve nothing less.”

Dula discreetly placed an envelope on the desk while he sipped a cup of tea. Draco pocketed it silently while nibbling at his sandwich, and blushed from Dula’s praise.

“I guess. Those are beautiful things to say, but hard to live up to. Dula, the last couple of days have been hell…and heaven. The man that died…Fenton…he got me alone at the after game party. He was…was…taking liberties with me when Ron broke in. Ron beat the hell out of him, then took him to St. Mungo’s. When he got back he helped clean me up and get me home safely. Harry went apoplectic when he found out…there’s no proof, but he killed Fenton that night, in the hospital, with nothing but Legilimency. Untraceable. I wasn’t in very good shape yesterday, but my wand came, and I’m still happy to be using it. I can’t tell you what it means to throw spells when I want to again.”

“Draco. I am sorry. Harry goes too far, but I cannot fault his choice of targets. I also heard that you and Harry were much closer than last I saw. It had pleased me to hear this, but I worried over the events of this party I read of. I suspected Harry’s hand in it, but I did not think that he was acting in defense of you. You say it was untraceable, but I read also that Ron is no longer a member of the Cannons. Have there been investigations into this Fenton’s death?”

“Yes, but they didn’t dig too deep once they found out that Fenton was a pervert. They blamed the death on the beating he took, and it looks like the Ministry will let Ron off the hook because he was rescuing me. That’s not all though. Harry found a way to heal my mind…by making my memories…the bad ones…distant from my conscious mind. You remember the person I told you about? The one who was a close friend of Albus Dumbledore? He’s the one Harry is contacting. Severus Snape knows how to use Legilimency to help me, and Harry is working on getting him to come back to England. He doesn’t like either of us much, but I can’t believe he’d just ignore a letter from Harry. I hope he doesn’t. The spells you showed us for warding nightmares have helped a lot, and I’m grateful for them, but this could mean I won’t need spells or potions again.”

Dula smiled and nodded softly.

“Much has happened in such a short time. The spells I have given you today include instructions you should study. If you have not taken Divinations, you will need to learn to read the auras you see. The spells will grant you sight, but you must know how to interpret what you see accurately. Still, I am pleased to hear that things are not so bad as I had feared. You have grown very close to Harry…if page six is any indication of the progress of your friendship.”

Dula’s last comment was made with a sly and conspiratorial smile and a wink from his merrily twinkling eye. Draco blushed scarlet and hid behind his tea cup.

“We’re…doing well. He said it, Dula. He said he loves me. He was willing to write Snape and ask him to come and help me…and Harry loathes Snape, but he said he’d do anything to help me. I told him how I feel too. We’re…we’re pretty much boyfriends. I don’t know what to call it, but we’re something…and I like it.”

Dula sighed with pleasure and soaked up the last of his tea. He stood and offered Draco his hand.

“I must take my leave now, but I am glad you have dealt so well and wisely with the matters that come before you. Harry is fortunate that so many people care for him, and he is more fortunate than he knows, that you have chosen to fight for his well being. Whatever malevolent forces influence our friend, they face an implacable and subtle foe. My prayers are with you, Draco. I will assure Charlie that all is well, and carry your greetings to him. Be well, our little dragon.”

Draco took Dula’s hand and shook it as firmly as he could, though next to a dragon tamer, any handshake he could muster would always seem weak. They parted ways and Dula returned to the Floo. Draco secured his papers inside his coat and returned to his lunch. Dula had been right. Events were moving at lightning speed, and it was dizzying when he thought about it.

Despite all he had endured in the past weeks, he felt more frighteningly alive than he ever had, and a weird ebullience filled his imagination. Good things were hovering on the brink of happening. Tomorrow he would visit Hogwarts with Molly. If he could cast these spells tonight, or tomorrow, he could take what he’d learned to Dumbledore and press for explanations or help. Snape was somewhere out there in the world, carrying the power to give Draco back the world of dreams instead of nightmares, and Harry had shown his love for Draco in a way that quelled all doubt.

Harry needed help, but his feelings for Draco were sincere and real in a way that Draco had never known before, and Draco would spit in the face of hell before he would surrender something like that.

TBC!!!