How to Save a Life

Author Note: Sorry about the delay in updating the chapter. The story was hidden because of a disclaimer problem, and even though I ammended it, it took rather a long time to be put back up. Anyway, here's the next chapter - hope it was worth the wait!!
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Pansy left the hospital wing and headed off in the direction of the dungeons with all the purpose of a woman possessed. With each foot step she could feel her anger building towards the boy who had been her best friend since infancy.

If she was honest with herself, Pansy hadn’t been that shocked to find that, in his misery, Harry had taken refuge in harming himself – she knew it would have been her first instinct if the situation had been reversed.

Both Neville and Madam Pomfrey had initially jumped to the conclusion that Harry had attempted suicide, and Pansy had found herself in the awkward position of having to explain, as briefly as she could, the concept of self-harm. It was something that was relatively unheard of in the wizarding world and she could see that they both struggled in their understanding of her words.

When she had finished, Pansy noted the older matron eyeing her speculatively, and she just knew that her own secrets weren’t going to remain hidden for long.

Pansy did feel guilty for betraying Harry’s trust, but she was realistic enough to know that there was no other option. Harry needed help, they both needed help, and if there was anything that had been drummed into her head during her extended stay at St Mungo’s, it was that you had to talk things out in order to heal.

It was the main reason that she had managed to abstain from harming for so long. Having someone who understood, someone she could talk to, had given Pansy the courage to face her demons head on. But as she thought back over their many conversations, she began to realise just how one-sided they had been. She had talked, and Harry had listened and comforted her, but he had shared very little of his own feelings in return.

But as the entrance to the Slytherin common room loomed up ahead, Pansy cleared her mind of such thoughts and focussed on the task at hand.

The common room was full of students milling around, relaxing after the day’s lessons. She ran her eye over the crowded room, but no gleaming blond head was in sight. However, her eyes did light upon a certain dark, curly head.

“Where is he, Blaise?”

Blaise looked momentarily startled by Pansy’s tone. “In the dorm. But I wouldn’t bother him just now. He’s...” Blaise trailed off as Pansy had already turned in the direction of the boys’ bedroom.

She entered the room without knocking, much to the horror of a half-naked Theodore, whose cries of outrage she brushed aside.

“Stop squealing, Theo, for Merlin’s sake. You’re not a first year Hufflepuff.”

“Pansy! What the hell are you doing in here?” Draco stood in the bathroom doorway, dressed only in his boxers, lightly towelling his damp hair.

“I need to talk to you.” It was a mark of just how focussed Pansy was that she didn’t even take the opportunity to appraise Draco’s body.

“Give us a minute, will you, Theo?” It was a command phrased as a request; Theodore understood that, and, pulling on a jumper, he stropped out of the room.

“I didn’t think we were talking,” Draco said lightly.

“It’s about Harry.”

“No!” Draco snapped, his expression stony. “We are not discussing this anymore. The subject is closed.”

“Well, that’s just where you’re wrong,” Pansy responded cheerily.

Before Draco had time to reply, her wand was out and pointing in his direction. “Incarcerous.”

Draco found himself bound to the post of his bed by numerous thin ropes; his own wand lay, useless, on his bedside table.

“Undo me now, Parkinson.” His voice was cold and dangerous, and Pansy simply ignored it. But before she could say anything further, the door opened.

“Draco, are you...?” Blaise’s curly head peered round the door and his eyes widened as they took in the scene. “What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?”

“Experimenting, Blaise,” Draco drawled. “Pansy fancies herself as quite the dominatrix.”

Blaise’s eyes widened impossibly. “Really?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “And people though that Crabbe and Goyle were the dumb ones,” he muttered, causing Pansy to smile.

“No, you idiot,” he continued. “Clearly Pansy has gone insane. Must be the time of the month, or something. So if you could just lend a hand?”

“Huh?” Blaise’s mind was still on the kinky sex.

Draco nodded at the ropes that bound him. “Set me free,” he snapped impatiently.

Before Blaise could move, Pansy levelled her wand on him. “Draco and I need some alone time, right now. Be a dear, and leave us alone.”

Blaise looked, warily, from one friend to the other. “You’re both mad,” he commented, before leaving them to it. Pansy watched him go and then turned back to Draco, smiling smugly.

“Now, where were we?”

“When I get out of this,” Draco snarled.

“Yes, yes,” Pansy agreed airily. “I have no doubt that you’ll Hex me into next week. But like I said before, right now, we need to talk about Harry.”

“If your big plan is for us to have a heart to heart, where you persuade me to give him a second chance, then you’ve forgotten two things.”

“Really?” Pansy asked in amusement.

“One – this time I’m sober, and two – I’ve already tried the second chance this, this morning, and it failed miserably.”

“Ah yes, but it’s not Harry who needs the second chance. It’s you.”

Draco looked at Pansy with the kind of expression that most people reserved for dealing with Luna Lovegood. “You’re cracked,” he sneered, struggling against his restraints.

“It wasn’t Harry. He didn’t kiss Ginny Weasley.”

Draco opened his mouth to refute this, but something in the calm, knowing look on his friend’s face caused him to close it again. His face paled visibly at her words, but he refused to acknowledge defeat.

“What makes you so certain all of a sudden? You’ve got second sight now, have you?”

Pansy smiled. “No, but I did have a very interesting little chat with Granger after Potions today.”

“I don’t see how-”

“Just shush,” Pansy interrupted. “Or I’ll silence you.”

Draco glared mutinously, but remained noticeably silent.

“Granger didn’t just see Harry and the She-Weasel together, she heard them talking too. Apparently, she heard Harry telling Ginny that he was going to break up with me for her, and that he was just using me to make her jealous.”

“Certainly made her jealous alright,” Draco snorted. “Turned her into a psychotic bunny boiler, more like.”

Pansy just started at her friend meaningfully, with one eyebrow raised.

“What?” Draco snapped, twisting futilely against his bonds. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Draco, think about it. Harry and I aren’t, or weren’t dating.”

“I do know that, Pansy. I’m not Blaise.”

“You know that,” Pansy said patiently. “But Ginny Weasley doesn’t. She thinks that Harry and I have been going out for months. As do most of the school. Why would Harry own up to a relationship that didn’t exist?” Pansy stepped closer and looked intently into her friend’s eyes. “Look, I don’t know if it was a Glamour or Polyjuice or what. But that wasn’t Harry; I’m certain of it.”

Grey eyes locked onto her own and seemed to be searching her soul. After what seemed like an eternity, Draco’s gaze dropped to the floor and he sagged noticeably against his restraints.

“Let me go, please,” he said softly.

Pansy looked at him warily; best friend or not, he was still a Slytherin. “Why?”

“Because I have a boyfriend to find, and a Weasley to kill.”

“Never mind the She-Weasel for now,” Pansy chided. “You should be worrying about Harry. You’ve been a complete bastard to him since this all started.”

“You think I don’t know that? He’ll probably never forgive me, and I wouldn’t blame him.”

Pansy could hear the desperation in Draco’s voice, and she couldn’t help but take pity on him. “I’m fairly sure that he will. Not that you deserve it, or him for that matter.”

“I know.” The look of anguish on Draco’s face went a long way to melting Pansy’s anger.

“Could you let me go now? I have to find him.”

With a flick of her wand, Pansy vanished the ropes. “You don’t have to look for him. I know where Harry is.”


~~o0o~~


“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this before.”

“Now is hardly the time. And anyway, I tried to tell you, months ago, and you wouldn’t listen.”

“I just...I never thought that Harry was the type to do something like that.”

Pansy came to a halt halfway through the doorway to the hospital wing. “Type? There is no type. Harry doesn’t do this because he’s weak and pathetic, you know.”

“I never thought that,” Draco said quickly. “It’s just...I can’t get my head around someone wanting to do that.”

Pansy just shrugged; she didn’t have the energy right then to try and explain to Draco what motivated someone to want to mutilate themselves. If she was totally honest, she didn’t fully understand it herself.

Neville was still sitting where she had left him. He stood up and walked towards them. His expression was neutral, but Draco could see the anger in his eyes.

“How is he?” Pansy wanted to know.

“Still sleeping,” Neville replied. “Madam Pomfrey gave him some Dreamless Sleep; he’ll probably be out for a while yet.”

“Is she still around?” Pansy asked warily; the school matron was no great lover of Slytherins.

“No.” Neville shook his head. “She went off to find Professor McGonagall. I guess, to talk about Harry.” He paused here and looked pointedly at Draco. “Will you be okay to sit with him? I really ought to go and clean the dorm up.”

“Yeah, you go on. We’ll be fine.” Pansy smiled reassuringly.

Neville nodded. He turned his attention to Draco, regarding him coolly. “You’d better make this right, Malfoy,” he stated calmly.

“I will. I promise,” Draco answered, with a sincerity rarely heard from Malfoy lips.

Draco never heard Neville’s parting words or Pansy’s conversation as they crossed the ward. Every fibre of his being was focussed on the pale figure lain out in front of him.

Harry looked like death warmed up. His skin was so pale and had an almost greyish tinge to it; probably from the blood loss, Draco though with a shudder. He reached out a trembling hand and gently brushed the messy fringe back off Harry’s forehead. His fingers then trailed down his cheek bones, skimming over the still-bruised flesh that bore witness to his own outburst of temper.

The sight of the bruises, and the knowledge that he had inflicted them, caused a tightening in Draco’s chest that made it hard for him to breath. “He looks so small,” he said shakily.

Pansy laid a hand on his shoulder and pushed him gently into a nearby chair.

Draco then ran his hand down to Harry’s arm, which lay, bare, on top of the covers. The only evidence of his recent injury was a thick strip of pink, newly-healed skin. His eyes took in the web of faint scars that marred the pale flesh.

“How could I not know?” he whispered. “He was in my bed nearly every night. I should have known.”

Pansy sighed and shook her head. “He didn’t want you to know. People who self-harm, they’re ashamed of it, so they hide. Harry used a strong Glamour so that you wouldn’t see.”

“How long has it been going on?” Draco asked, fearful of the answer.

Pansy sighed. “From what he told me, it started about the beginning of last term.”

Draco rubbed the back of his neck distractedly, before turning to look at his friend. “And you? How long have you been doing it?”

Pansy blanched. “H-H-How did you know?”

Draco shrugged. “I didn’t, until now,” he said sadly. He reached out for her hand and laced their fingers together. “I want to help,” he said determinedly. “Both of you. Whatever it takes. Just don’t...don’t shut me out, okay?”

Pansy squeezed his hand in return. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t tell anyone; I was so ashamed. It was different with Harry because he understood. We used to talk and support each other.” Her gaze shifted back to the bed. “As far as I know, this is the first time he’s done this in months.”

“So it’s my fault, then,” Draco replied bitterly.

“No,” Pansy said emphatically. “You didn’t make Harry cut himself. I’m not saying that you haven’t been a complete bastard recently-”

“Thanks for the ego boost,” Draco drawled.

“Truth hurts,” Pansy replied simply. “You’ve been a right shit to him, we both know that. But it’s not your fault that Harry cuts. It’s...everyone has their own way of coping, and this is his. Your behaviour hasn’t helped, but you’re not responsible for this.”

Soft murmurs drew both their attentions back to the narrow bed and its pale occupant. Draco’s heart was in his mouth as he watched those beautiful green eyes flutter open.

Harry smiled sleepily at him. “Draco,” he whispered hoarsely. Suddenly, those eyes snapped wide open and darted in the direction of his exposed arm. A soft whimper rose in his throat as Harry tried to pull his arm away from Draco’s touch.

Pansy stepped forward at this moment and began stroking her hand over his dark, unruly locks. “It’s okay,” she soothed.

Harry turned to face her, eyes wide with fear.

“He knows,” she admitted. “I had to tell him; I was so scared.” Her voice cracked on the last word and Pansy all but hurled herself on top of Harry, hugging the life out of him.

“It’s okay,” Harry murmured, running a soothing hand down her back. He relaxed into the embrace for a short while, feeling Pansy’s tears hot against his skin. When she finally managed to rein in her emotions, she pulled back; her eyes rimmed red, and sniffled quietly.

“Sorry for being such a wuss,” she muttered.

Harry managed a weak smile. “’S okay.”

He then turned his head slowly to face the tense blond at his side. Mistaking the set of Draco’s jaw for anger, he flinched slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I wanted to tell you, I really did. But I was just so ashamed.”

“Don’t you dare apologise to me.” Draco was struggling to maintain his calm, and his voice ended up sounding rather more like a snarl than he had intended. Realising this, he let his mask drop and allowed his concern to show. He took hold of Harry’s hand again and began stroking it gently.

“You have done nothing to apologise for. I should be the one begging you for forgiveness.”

“Never a truer word,” Pansy commented lightly.

“Pansy,” Harry protested weakly.

“Don’t you dare defend him, Harry. Draco has been an unmitigated arse for the last few days. He ought to be on his knees grovelling, right now.”

Seeing Harry open his mouth to argue, Draco pressed a finger gently against his lips. “She’s right. I had no right to behave the way that I did. There’s no excuse for the way I treated you.”

Harry looked at him in confusion. “What’s changed? Last time I saw you, you still hated me.”

A small smile crossed Draco’s face. “Pansy can be very persuasive,” he said cryptically.

Harry turned to the Slytherin girl for clarification. Pansy stood examining her nails casually. “It was nothing really,” she said airily. “I just tied him to the bed and told him a few home truths.”

Harry couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him at the mental image Pansy provided.

“Slytherins,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand you.”

Pansy smiled in return, before her expression became more serious. “I spoke to Granger.”

Harry tensed noticeably at the mention of his old friend; he still couldn’t reconcile himself to her betrayal.

“No, it’s a good thing,” Pansy hastened to reassure him. “It turns out that she didn’t just see you snogging the She-Weasel, but she heard you telling her about how you were going to dump me for her.”

“But we’re not...” Harry protested.

“I know, Harry. But obviously Ginny Weasley doesn’t.”

A light of understanding dawned in Harry’s eyes. He swivelled his head to face Draco. “So you...?”

“Yes,” Draco replied softly. “I know that you were telling the truth. I should have trusted you.” His head bowed, causing a bright curtain of hair to partly shield his face.

Harry reached out tentatively and brushed Draco’s hair from his eyes. “It’s okay.”

Draco’s head snapped up at this. “It’s not okay, Harry,” he insisted. “I didn’t even give you a chance to explain. I don’t even know how to say how sorry I am.”

Harry grinned. “I’m sure that I can think of ways for you to make it up to me.”

“How can you joke about it?” Draco asked incredulously. “After everything I put you through.” His fingers lightly traced the scars on Harry’s arm.

“You didn’t do this,” Harry insisted as he watched Draco’s fingers. “Yes, you were an arse; I’m not going to deny that. But you didn’t make me do this.”

“But-“

“No. It was me, Draco. This wasn’t your fault. I have to accept responsibility for my own actions.”

Pansy smiled approvingly at this, and then gave Draco a look that clearly said ‘drop it.’

“One thing I don’t understand, though,” Harry said. “What happened? I mean, Hermione and Ron are insistent that they saw me, and we all know that it wasn’t me.” He paused and looked uncertainly at Draco here, who smiled and nodded.

“It’s just; I can see Ginny lying about something like this, but not the others. But they must be, and I really don’t get why.”

“Polyjuice,” Draco replied.

Pansy and Harry’s eyes widened at this.

“Of course!”

“So Ron and Hermione weren’t lying? They really did see me, or at least, someone they thought was me?” Harry asked, the hope evident in his tone.

Draco nodded and stroked Harry’s hair lightly. “If I had to guess, I would say it was Weasley and her Hufflepuff boyfriend. He seemed to take her infidelity very well, now that I come to think about it.”

Harry sank back against the pillows, relief shining from his face. “That makes sense,” he agreed, stifling a yawn.

“You’re tired,” Draco accused.

“A little,” Harry admitted. “I haven’t been sleeping much lately.

Draco flushed guiltily at this. Harry reached for his hand. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Draco said, shaking his head. “But I’m going to do everything in my power to make it so it is.” He leant down and pressed a light kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “Get some rest.”

Harry nodded sleepily and burrowed further under the covers. Pansy kissed him also, ruffling his hair affectionately. “See you tomorrow, sleepyhead.”

Harry just grinned and murmured, “Night night.”

Dark lashes swept against his pale cheeks, and Draco stood at his bedside for a few moments longer, just gazing down at him. He reached out and smoothed the covers over Harry’s body and then allowed Pansy to lead him out of the hospital wing.

“You don’t deserve him, you know?”

Draco just nodded. There was no malice in Pansy’s words; it was just a statement of fact. But he vowed silently to himself that, whatever it took, he would make it up to Harry. Coming so close to losing him forever had only served to make Draco realise just how important a part of his life the other boy had become. He couldn’t image a future that didn’t have Harry in it.


~~o0o~~


Ginny Weasley was worried. She had learned from Ron that Harry hadn’t been in any of his lessons that day, and now he hadn’t shown up to dinner either.

Something was clearly going on. She had tried questioning Neville on his whereabouts but he had remained tight-lipped.

Ginny had already forgiven Harry for his outburst that morning. At first she had been shocked and hurt, but the more she thought about it, the more she understood that he hadn’t meant it.

Harry was still angry with her for the way she had managed to break up his relationship with that Slytherin slut, but Ginny knew that once she got the chance to explain, to make him see that she had done it for him, for them and their future, then Harry would forgive her.

Ginny’s only concern was how she was going to get the chance to explain when Harry was so intent on avoiding her.

She gazed thoughtfully at Neville, observing how preoccupied he seemed. She followed his gaze over in the direction of the Slytherin table and noticed, with a sickening lurch, that neither Malfoy nor Parkinson were at dinner either.

It seemed too convenient to simply be a coincidence. That was probably what Malfoy was talking to Harry about this morning, she thought. I bet he’s trying to get Harry to take that slut back. Slytherins will do anything to get what they want.

Ginny felt her temper flare at the thought of that whore getting her hands on Harry, her Harry, again. Without another thought, she pushed away from the table and resolutely made her way out of the Great Hall.

Her first destination was Gryffindor tower. She hurried breathlessly through the portrait hole and made her way up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. She hoped that she was wrong and that she would find Harry in his room, alone. Maybe then she could convince him to listen, to let her explain.

When she pushed the door open and found the room empty, Ginny let out a cry of rage. She was about to storm off when she noticed Harry’s trunk, unlocked, at the end of his bed. In a heartbeat she was across the room, had the lid thrown back, and was rummaging through Harry’s belongings.

“Where is that damn Map?” she muttered. If she could just find it, she would be able to know where he was, and, more importantly, who he was with. That she was violating his trust and privacy never occurred to her; she was doing this for Harry’s own good.

She crowed triumphantly as her fingers closed around the worn parchment. Eagerly, she unfolded it, with slightly trembling fingers. As she did so, something came loose and fluttered to the ground. Instinctively, she reached down to retrieve it, wanting to leave no trace of her presence.

No sooner had her eyes registered what she held than all the colour drained from her face, and a horrified gasp escaped her lips. Her hand clutched at the post of Harry’s bed for support, her knuckles white – such was the intensity of her grip.

Finally, shaking herself out of the trance, she tucked her find securely into her robe pocket. With trembling hands, she began repacking Harry’s trunk, carefully covering her tracks.

By the time Ginny left the boys’ dormitory, her initial shock had faded and, instead, an icy cold rage had taken hold. All thoughts of locating Harry had fled from her mind. Ginny’s only thoughts at that moment were of revenge, and in her pocket was the perfect weapon to help her achieve that.


~~o0o~~


Draco didn’t sleep much that night. His mind was on overdrive, busily processing the day’s developments. Despite knowing that it was true, and even having seen evidence for himself, Draco was finding it hard to accept the revelation of Harry’s self-harming.

Draco had never heard of something like that before. Sure, he had heard stories of people who tried to kill themselves in that manner, but this was something entirely different. Harry didn’t want to die, he just wanted to hurt.

Draco was trying his best to understand, really he was, but he was finding it extremely difficult to get his head around the concept. Harry had always seemed so strong, so resilient, often against overwhelming odds. The fact that he had managed to hide something so serious, left Draco questioning how much he really knew about his boyfriend.

Not that he doubted for a moment that Harry was who he wanted. Even over the last few days, with everything that had happened, Draco had been unable to deny the truth of his feelings; if it wasn’t love, it wouldn’t have hurt quite so much.

And there was another thing keeping his sleep at bay. Draco couldn’t help but replay every confrontation he had had with Harry since the weekend, and with each one, the knife would twist just a little more in his gut.

Just the thought of how he had behaved, the things that he had said, left a taste of bile in his mouth. That his behaviour had contributed to Harry’s actions was without doubt in his mind. He didn’t care what Pansy or Harry said; he knew that it was his fault. What kind of a monster did that make him?

And then there was Pansy. It wasn’t enough that he had been oblivious to his boyfriend’s suffering, he hadn’t even noticed his best friend’s pain. Pansy was a good Slytherin; she wore the mask well. She always seemed so calm and together, and it was easy to forget, what, such a short time ago, she had been through.

But Draco was not one give to endless bouts of soul-searching and introspection. He couldn’t change what had been; there was no way to take back his actions or unsay his words. He didn’t deserve Harry’s forgiveness, he knew that. But he was going to earn it. Whatever it cost and however long it took, he would prove to Harry just how much he meant to him.


~~o0o~~


Harry was disorientated when he woke up the next morning. This was somewhat ironic, considering the amount of time he had spent in the hospital wing over the years. For once, though, he was not that eager to be released.

The thought of facing his friends again left him feeling slightly panicked. Madam Pomfrey had let slip that it was Neville who had brought him in the night before; his secret was out now.

It had been okay with just Pansy knowing. After all, she understood why and never judged. But if Neville knew, the chances were that Dean and Seamus knew too, and then it would be a short stop before the whole school found out.

Harry tried not to think too much about that. He focussed instead on more pleasant thoughts – like Draco.

Harry supposed that he should be angry with his boyfriend. That he should make him suffer for his behaviour over the last few days. But his heart just wasn’t in it. The concern he had seen in those beloved grey eyes the night before had told him all he needed to know.

Yes, there were some issues that they had to work out before they could move forward. But losing Draco, however briefly, had allowed Harry a glimpse of what life without the blond would be like, and it was something that he never wanted to experience again.

They would work through it and come out the other side stronger for having endured it; Harry was sure of that. And anyway, if he was honest with himself, he knew that he wasn’t entirely blameless in the whole mess. How could he stay angry at Draco for not trusting him, when he had been guilty of the exact same thing?

They had promised not to keep secrets from each other, to always be upfront, and yet he had kept this huge thing from Draco.

Harry knew the reason that he hadn’t told his boyfriend was mainly because he was ashamed. But it was also because he thought that Draco wouldn’t want him anymore. He hadn’t trusted Draco enough to believe that he would stay with him, no matter what. So how could he stay angry with the blond for his own crisis of faith, especially when there had been such convincing witnesses to the supposed betrayal?

And there was another thing that Harry was feeling better about. Over the last few days, the pain he had felt at losing Draco had almost been equalled by the hurt he felt at the thought of his best friends’ treachery. To find out that Ron and Hermione hadn’t been lying, or trying to deliberately hurt him, had been an immense relief. He couldn’t be angry with Ron for hitting him; he had genuinely believed what he had seen – and who wouldn’t?

The only person that Harry had any anger for was Ginny. But even that was tempered by a sense of bewilderment that someone he had cared about could want to hurt him so badly.

Ginny had changed so much this last year, so much so that Harry barely recognised her anymore. He knew that she had been affected by the war, but so had everyone else, and none of them were running around attacking people and wrecking lives.

He didn’t want her to get away with what she had done, but the trouble was there was no proof. It would just be his word against hers. There was no guarantee that Ron and Hermione would even believe him.

The only way that Harry could think of convincing them was to do something that he should have done months ago. He needed to tell them the truth - that he was gay and in love with Draco.

Harry realised bitterly that if only he had been upfront from the start, then most of this heartbreak could have been avoided. He had expected to be given the benefit of the doubt by his best friends, when, in truth, he had been lying to them for months.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey bringing his lunch. He sat up in bed as a table was slid over it, bearing a tray filled with food.

“Make sure you eat it all, Mr Potter. You need to put some weight on; you’re practically skin and bones.”

Harry just nodded his agreement. He thought it was a slight exaggeration, but he hadn’t eaten properly for days. The trauma of the break up with Draco had successfully killed his appetite and, after years with the Dursleys, his body had become more than accustomed to going without food for days at a time.

Madam Pomfrey watched as he ate eagerly, a look of grim satisfaction on her face. “I have spoken to the Headmistress about your...problem, Mr Potter.”

Harry tensed slightly at this news; he had known, realistically, that Professor McGonagall would have to be informed, but that didn’t make it sit any easier. However, he could see that the school matron looked as uncomfortable with the conversation as he was, so he smiled slightly in acknowledgement of her words.

“I have suggested, and she has agreed, that you need more specialised help than I can offer you here. So we have arranged for a Psyche Healer from St Mungo’s to come and speak with you.”

Harry nodded. He could just hear his uncle Vernon’s sneering comments about ‘nutters’ and ‘shrinks’ in the back of his mind, but he tried hard to ignore them. He was resigned to the fact that he would have to talk about it, but he had rather hoped to keep his secrets within the small group who already knew them. The last thing he needed was for news of his ‘problems’ to make front page of the Prophet.

As if reading his mind, Madam Pomfrey spoke again. “Anything that you discuss will be between the two of you. Psyche Healers are bound by their oath, almost like an Unbreakable Vow, which prevents them from divulging their patient’s details.”

Harry visibly relaxed at this news.

“Healer Malory will be here this afternoon and, provided he is in agreement, we should have you released by dinner this evening.”

“Thank you.” Harry tried his best to sound grateful; he still wasn’t looking forward to seeing his friends again. “I’m sorry to be such trouble.”

Madam Pomfrey’s face softened at his words. “Nonsense,” she said, gruffly. “You just worry about getting yourself well.” She patted him on the shoulder gently, before turning to leave. She got several paces away from the bed before stopping and turning back to him.

Harry looked at her expectantly. “Mr Malfoy was here earlier. He was most concerned to know how you were.”

Harry blushed slightly. “Really?”

“Yes. I never thought I’d see the day that he was worried about you. Time was, he would have been the one who put you in here.”

Harry smiled wryly; he couldn’t argue with that.

“I believe he will be back later to see you. Most insistent upon it, he was.”

Harry didn’t miss the knowing twinkle in her eyes before she turned away. It seemed to him that another one of his secrets wasn’t so secret anymore. Not that he minded this one; he had already made up his mind that it was time everyone knew about him and Draco, regardless of the fallout.


~~o0o~~


“Yes, Pansy, I’ve got it. I’ve already told you that repeatedly. Now stop fussing, for Merlin’s sake.”

“I’m just making sure,” Pansy huffed. “I know what you’re like.”

Harry grinned to himself at the sound of their friendly bickering. He was perched on the edge of his hospital bed, still dressed in his pyjamas. He was feeling fairly washed out after spending several hours with the Psyche Healer, but felt that it had been time well spent.

Draco and Pansy made their way over to his bed. “You good to go, Harry?” Pansy enquired.

Harry nodded. “Yep, I’m all set to go.” He looked down at his outfit. “Though I could do with some clothes. I don’t fancy walking back to Gryffindor tower in my pyjamas.”

Draco dropped a bag on the bed, smiling smugly. “I had Longbottom sort you out some clothes. I figured you weren’t ready for the world to see you in your jammies, just yet!”

Harry picked the bag up gratefully. “Thanks. I won’t be a minute.” With that, he disappeared behind a nearby screen.

“What’s wrong with changing out here?” Draco pouted, and then spotted a grinning Pansy. “On second thoughts, stay where you are.”

“Spoilsport,” Pansy teased. “How did it go this afternoon, Harry?”

“How did you know about that?” Harry asked, his voice muffled by the jumper he was pulling over his head.

“I saw Healer Malory on his way up here. I remembered him from when I was in St Mungo’s, and I figured he was on his way to see you. How did it go?”

Harry appeared from around the screen. “Umm, okay, I think. Yeah, it was good. It’s a little weird talking to a complete stranger about really personal stuff, but he makes you feel really at ease.”

“Madam Pomfrey wants me to see him as well,” Pansy said casually.

Draco turned to look at her in surprise. “You never mentioned that to me. I didn’t know you’d even told her about...you know?”

“You can say the words, Draco, I don’t mind. I didn’t tell her, not really. She guessed and I just confirmed it.”

“That’s good, Pansy,” Harry commented. “I wasn’t that keen on the idea, but I think it might actually help.” He folded his pyjamas and stuffed them in the bag. “I’m ready.”

Draco looked a little nervous and Harry watched him curiously. He reached out and took hold of his hand. “What is it?”

“We thought...” Pansy coughed and Draco amended his words. “I thought, that maybe you would come back to Slytherin with us, rather than going back to Gryffindor.”

Harry smiled to himself; it wasn’t often he got to see Draco this uncertain of himself. He leant forward and gently kissed his boyfriend’s lips. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” Draco looked at him hopefully; he had honestly expected his suggestion to be rebuffed.

“Really. To be honest, I wasn’t much looking forward to going back there anyway. Not since...” Harry trailed off here, but both Slytherins knew what he meant.

Pansy reached out and took hold of his hand. “Neville hasn’t said anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. I told him not to, but I don’t think he would have anyway.”

Harry relaxed visibly at this and gave a small smile. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Draco ushered Harry through the Slytherin common room, barely giving him chance to acknowledge the wary greetings that came his way. Pansy bid them farewell at the entrance to the boys’ dormitory, and Draco tugged Harry inside.

Once in the room, Harry couldn’t help but remember the last time he had been in here. He shuddered slightly at the memory of Draco’s anger and the cruel words he had said. Intellectually, he knew that his boyfriend had just been lashing out, trying to hurt him in the way he perceived that he, himself, had been hurt. But it was still so fresh in his mind.

Noticing this, Draco stepped closer to Harry and wrapped his arms snugly around his boyfriend’s waist. “If I could take it back,” he said remorsefully.

“I know,” Harry answered. “I get why you did it. It will just take a little while for me to forget.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry. Really I am. If I could just-”

Draco’s words were cut off as Harry leant in and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. There was so much emotion behind it that Draco readily opened his mouth, needing the reassurance that Harry was providing.

When they pulled apart, Harry placed one hand on Draco’s chin and slowly traced his swollen lips with his thumb. He gave another small smile and followed it up with a soft kiss. “Not tonight,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over Draco’s skin.

Draco looked at him questioningly, uncertain as to what he referred.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, I know that. We can’t just go right back to how we were...before.”

Draco’s heart sank at these words; he knew they were true, but just hearing Harry say them made him fearful. Harry pulled him into a warm embrace, nuzzling into his neck, his hands tracing soothing circles on the blond’s back.

“Trust has to be rebuilt, on both sides,” Harry continued, and Draco nodded in understanding. “But not right now,” Harry breathed. “Right now, I just want to be doing this.”

Draco pulled back and looked at Harry, his face a mixture of nervousness and hope. “What?” he asked, unsure if he wanted the answer.

In reply, Harry took hold of his hand and pulled him in the direction of the bed. “I just want to hold you, and kiss you and be near you. I came so close to losing you, and I don’t want to let you go ever again.”


~~o0o~~


When Draco woke the next morning, with Harry curled up against his side, he gazed down at his boyfriend and gently brushed the messy dark hair back from his eyes. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the sight of Harry, his Harry, in his bed, back in his arms.

Draco knew he didn’t really deserve the second chance that Harry had given him, but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He would take that chance with both hands and make damn sure that Harry never regretted it.

They had gone no farther than kissing and cuddling the night before, but Draco had felt closer to his boyfriend in that time, than he had ever felt to any other person at any point in his life. A small smile playing on his lips, he tilted his head and kissed Harry’s forehead softly.

Beautiful green eyes fluttered open and gazed at him lovingly. “Morning,” Harry said, his voice still croaky from sleep.

Draco smiled. “Morning,” he answered, before his gaze turned more intense. “No regrets?” He had to ask.

“Plenty,” Harry replied, and in that moment Draco felt his heart stop. “But none about you,” he finished teasingly.

Draco lowered his mouth and lightly nipped Harry’s neck. “Git,” he accused playfully. “Nearly gave me a heart attack. You’ll pay for that.”

Harry chuckled. “As much as I’d like to stay here and have you make me pay, we have exactly thirty minutes until lessons start.”

Draco looked with horror at his watch. “Shit! I won’t even have time for a shower or anything.”

“’S okay,” Harry replied lazily. “I’ll still love you, even if you do stink!”

Draco grimaced at his boyfriend and then followed it up with a pout. “But I was hoping we could take a shower together,” he whined.

Harry had already got up and was now looking at the empty beds in the room. “What happened to the others? I don’t remember hearing them come in last night, and it doesn’t look like their beds have been slept in.”

Draco flushed a little. “I wanted last night to be just us,” he explained. “Blaise is up in Gryffindor with Longbottom, and Theo’s in the girls’ dorm with Tracey.”

Harry reached out his hands and pulled his boyfriend to his feet. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured, lightly kissing his lips, and for once, Draco made no protest.

The two boys got dressed in record time and were up in the Great Hall ten minutes later. Harry paused on the threshold, nervously. Draco placed a hand on the small of his back. “Don’t worry,” he reassured. “No one knows anything about it.”

Harry leant back for a moment, revelling in the support of the warm body behind him. Then, taking a deep breath, he entered the Great Hall with Draco at his side.

The noise level in the Hall dropped noticeably as they made their way over to the Slytherin table, and neither boy missed the numerous looks that were sent in their direction. Harry initially supposed it down to the surprise of seeing them together again, after such a public falling out. Then, as he seated himself at the table and the stares continued, he began to suspect that his recent trip to the hospital wing hadn’t remained as secret as he had hoped. He reached for Draco’s hand under the table.

“Ignore them,” Draco murmured. “They’ll get bored of it soon enough.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Draco,” Pansy commented, looking worriedly at them from over the top of her copy of the Daily Prophet. Wordlessly, she passed the paper over into his outstretched hand. Draco took it apprehensively, worried that somehow news of Harry’s problems had become public. He could feel the other boy tense at his side as he unfolded the paper.

The headline, in big, bold, black letters, was not what he feared it would be, but it certainly explained the intense scrutiny of the rest of the student body. Draco passed the paper to Harry and watched worriedly as his boyfriend read the headline, which screamed:

‘Gay-Boy Who Lived!’

Filling the rest of the front page was a picture of Harry and Draco that had been taken at the Manor over Christmas. Harry was lying with his head in Draco’s lap while the blond petted his hair. The image ran just long enough for the viewer to see Harry curl his hand round the back of Draco’s neck and pull him down for a long, deep kiss.

An array of emotions warred in Harry’s mind as he tried to process the implications of this. Panic was his first reaction, but then he calmly reminded himself that he had already decided to come out to everyone anyway, so this had just saved him the job. His next emotion was worry over how Draco would take the revelation. One quick look at his boyfriend reassured him that Draco’s only concern was for him.

His last, and most overriding emotion was anger. Pansy had taken this picture of the two of them during the holidays, and she had then given it to Harry as a Christmas present. As far as he knew, that was the only copy, which meant that someone had been through his belongings and stolen it from him.

Draco sat and watched the emotions running over his boyfriend’s face. He was certainly shocked by the article, and, if he was honest, this was not exactly the way he had wanted the news of their relationship to come out. But, apart from that, he really wasn’t that bothered. The people who mattered to him already knew about his relationship with Harry, and they had all, in varying degrees, accepted it. Truth was, he wanted nothing more than to be able to show the world just how important Harry was to him

However, he knew how reluctant Harry had been to tell people about them, and considering the emotional turmoil that the Gryffindor boy had been through in the last few days, he wanted nothing more than to practice a few Unforgivables on the person behind this article – and he had a damned good idea of who that was.

Harry looked up from the paper and realised that the eyes of almost the entire Hall were on him and Draco. In a weird way he was grateful to the article. He remembered how hard it had been for him to psyche himself up to telling Ron and Hermione last time; if he had to do it again, he didn’t think he could handle the nerves right now. The decision had now been taken out of his hand, and he couldn’t help but feel relieved to some extent.

Harry looked from the curious faces of his school mates, to the concerned face of his boyfriend, and, without thinking further, he leant closer into Draco’s body and swiftly pressed their lips together. When Draco’s lips parted in an astonished gasp, Harry took advantage and swiftly slid his tongue into the blond’s mouth.

For those few, brief, delicious moments, both boys forgot about their large audience. When Harry finally pulled away, a sheepish expression on his face, it was to the sound of raucous cheering and wolf-whistles, led, in the main, by Pansy, Blaise and the rest of Slytherin house.

Draco watched in smug satisfaction as Ginny Weasley stood up from her seat, face white with rage, and stormed out of the Great Hall. That pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He trailed his eyes a little further down the Gryffindor table to where Granger and the Weasel were sat. He allowed a broad grin to cross his face at the sight of the stunned expressions on the faces of Harry’s oldest friends.

Emboldened by Harry and Draco’s daring statement, Blaise turned to his own boyfriend, a wicked gleam in his eyes. To the further astonishment of most of Hogwarts, he pulled Neville against him and quickly crushed their lips together.

Both Harry and Draco laughed loudly as Ron’s gobsmacked, “Bloody hell,” broke the stunned silence in the Hall.

~~o0o~~