Salvation

As a little present I decided to have this second chapter up for you guys so soon. I hope you enjoy it.

Tearing those Walls Down

It took Harry a few seconds to realize what Draco had said. By admitting that he also had post-traumatic stress disorder, it meant that he went through something very traumatic. Could he be talking about his mom's suicide? That would be traumatic for any one. But, you never could tell with Draco. Things were constantly going through his head that no one could ever read. He had this wall around him that the strongest weapons could not move.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry finally asked in a much more demanding tone than questioning tone. Yes, it lacked all the sympathy he was truly feeling for the blond, but he was too confused to be sympathetic. Only one major emotion at a time for Harry Potter, please.

"There's just a lot more to me than you know," Draco answered while looking around the room they were in. He was avoiding looking at Harry. He might not be as book smart as Hermione, but Harry could read people. If it was the suicide of Draco's mom, than he wouldn't be so uncomfortable. Something else happened.

"If I have to take all these walls around me down, like you say I do, don't you have to do it too? I mean, why should I have to be all open when you can keep your secrets?" This time he asked his question more calmly and logically.

"No one is worried about me, Potter," Draco snapped. He was going back to Harry's last name – he must be upset. "They're worried about you," he said quietly in a way that reminded Harry of a wounded animal.

Harry didn't know how to respond to what Draco said. Not only was he admitting that people were worried about Harry, which was always an awkward and uncomfortable issue on Harry's part. But he was also very aware that no one cared about him. How would it feel to know that you could die and no one would care – or even know about it? It was something Harry would never have to feel. But Draco, Draco knew that he was just air now that the war was over.

Sure, he helped them win and without them they would have failed miserably, but he also almost made them lose only days before his help. Now that his conscience was clear and he did his part, he didn't have to exist. He was that forgotten client that paid off his debt and would never have to be dealt with again. There was no one around to fuss over him like his parents had at one point. Harry didn't think he would let anyone fuss over him even if there was someone to do it.

All these troublesome thoughts kept Harry from responding to Draco. He only hoped that Draco was smart enough to know that his silence didn't mean he agreed with what the population was feeling.

After the silence that both the boys were focused on was getting to heavy, Draco said to Harry, "Tell me about your dreams."

"I don't want to talk about them," Harry answered automatically. Hermione had asked a few times about them, wondering why he would scream at night. That was the answer she always received.

"Don't you realize that sometimes talking about things helps? I mean, you're forcing them out of your head and into the open. Right now they're stuck in there, demanding to get out. And the only way they're getting out right now is through these dreams you're having. They might lessen if you just tell me about them," Draco argued smoothly.

Well he did have a point.... "Okay, it's like as soon as I close my eyes, I'm dropped into this forest. It isn't anywhere I've been before, but it always feels like it doesn't matter where we are. It's like it would happen anywhere, it just so happens to be that we're in a forest.

"I'm running from something, but I never know what it is. I get to a clearing and I'm trying to regain my breath. It feels like I've been running for hours, or even days some times, depending how I felt before I went to bed. Then some twig snaps or leaves rustle – something makes a noise. Of course, I have to look up. When I do I'm face to face with Voldemort.

"For about half a second I think he's going to kill me. Then suddenly my wand is in my hand and I'm towering over him. I would say I'm at least ten feet tall. And I'm just looking at him, like I could stomp on him and not even know it. Suddenly there's a green flash and someone is screaming. I look down and he's lying on the ground, eyes open, like they're staring at me. Then everything goes black."

Draco was in awe, but not for the reasons Harry though. The blond gave Harry some time to pull himself together before talking. He knew it took a lot out of Harry to finally tell someone what was bothering him. Draco didn't expect him to be chipper after something like that.

"So basically," Draco started quietly, "it bothers you that you killed him? You feel like you were strong than him and almost being a bully?"

Harry laughed in a way that clearly showed he was not amused at all. "Well when you put it like that, you make me sound completely mental."

"That's not what I'm trying to do." Harry couldn't help but believe Draco when he said it. There was no malice in his voice. "I'm just trying to understand. I can't help if I don't know what you're really feeling."

"And what makes you thinks you can understand at all?" Harry asked tensely while running his fingers through his hair. All this talk about his dreams and just generally what he was feeling really put Harry on edge.

"Because I have almost the same exact dream every night," Draco answered simply, like it was some common dream that everyone has.

"What are you talking about?" Harry sighed. These minds games were really starting to piss Harry off.

"Well, instead of being outside in a forest, we're inside – in this house. I'm running all over, up stairs, down stairs, through passage ways. It feels like I'm trying to go somewhere, but I have no fucking clue where that might be. I've lived here for nineteen years and still don't recognize half the rooms I'd run through.

"I get to a room and try to catch my breath. I'm so tired I don't even realize where I am or what there is around me that I could use as protection. All I know is that it's time I stand up for myself and stop running. A door opens and shuts and I'm looking at my dad.

"Then, like your dream, I grow really tall. I feel like I could reach the ceiling if I want to. My wand appears in my hand, though I'm sure I didn't have it the entire time I was running around. The last thing I hear is my dad saying 'Draco' and then falling to the ground. His eyes are open and staring at me. Then, in my dream I pass out or something, because it's just black."

Harry was a little freaked out with all of this. It was the same dream that he was having, with just some Draco-like twists. Then something clicked in Harry's head. "Wait, why would you dream of killing your dad?" Harry asked with confusion painted on his face.

"Are you really that thick? Because I'm the one that killed him!" Draco yelled while throwing his hands in the air.

Harry took a step back without realizing it and gasped. No, he had to have heard him wrong. Draco would never kill his dad. But Draco barely jokes – ever – and he would never joke about this. Finally Harry asked, "Why?"

Draco spoke quickly when he answered, almost too quickly for Harry to understand. "Well, as you know it was already after I switched sides when they found out he was dead. And he was talking about starting a raid on Hermione's parent's house. He hadn't brought it up to Voldemort yet. But he was going to just kill them! He knew it wouldn't do anything to you, but it would bring down Hermione's morale. And face it, without Hermione there was no chance we could have won. She would have been devastated. I just...I couldn't let him do it.

"It ended with me getting chased all around the house, trying to not get killed by my own father. Then, suddenly, it clicked in my head. I'm the younger of the two. I'm in my prime and he's just an old man. And then I realized I could kill him and I would have to. So I did."

Harry sighed. This was all so much for one day. "So you have the same dreams now, too?" he asked.

"Yeah," Draco answered sadly.

"Do you not sleep much?"

"Not if I'm going to fall asleep to that. I avoid it at all costs."

"You scream at night?"

"See, that one I wouldn't know," Draco answered with almost a painful chuckle. "I don't have someone like Hermione looking out for me. No one can tell me if I do or not. But I would assume I do."

"You don't want anything to do with anything, huh? That's why you don't work. You just want to be left alone, with no one there to ask questions – bring things up that you are trying so hard to forget."

It took Draco a bit longer to answer this question. It seemed like he was having a fight within him self, looking for the correct words. "Yes," he finally whispered.

"So you think you can help me?" Harry asked in response.

"Well, I don't know. I just know it helps me that I'm not the only one that feels this way," Draco answered, looking at Harry with a hopeful expression. He was tempted to reach out, but held it back.

"It helps me too," Harry said while patting Draco on the shoulder. Draco was happy Harry touched him when he was too scared to do it himself. Sometimes one needs physical things to know someone is really there.

"Do you want to get a butterbeer or something?" Draco asked after a second of silence that was finally comforting and not painful.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Harry told him.