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 6: Breaking Bread, Broken Hearts


Molly Weasley brought hot broth and fresh bread on a large tray that sat comfortably over Draco’s waist, as well as a pitcher of ice water and some hot tea. Draco got one whiff of the broth and almost whimpered. It smelled like heaven…with garlic. Only her insistence that he pace himself slowly prevented him from gorging himself on the spot. A giddy smile was plastered onto his face as he dipped the bread into the bowl and mopped up every last drop of broth. It wasn’t a large meal, but he felt ridiculously full, and quite sleepy, when it was finished.

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. That was wonderful. It’s…well…it’s been a few days since I had anything to eat, and it wasn’t much then. That was delicious.”

Molly cleared away the tray, bowl and cutlery, sending them on a journey to the kitchen sink with a flick of her wand, and sat down with an eye to the row of potions on the desk beside her.

“You’re very welcome, Draco. Now let’s see about your treatments. Poppy Pomfrey left me some most useful things. I’ve some fine Healing Salves for your skin, as well as plenty of Scaradicate, which will clear up the older injuries nicely. I’ve several spells and potions that will prevent re-infection and speed healing, and some potions for healthy sleep that ought to see you well rested. If you don’t mind, I’d like to start with a couple of spells that will speed the closure of wounds, and we can start with your left arm since that’s the closest. How does that sound?”

Molly Weasley’s matter of fact calm was infectious, and Draco felt himself feeling a bit more at ease. Harry’s intensity and icy glare had frightened him more than he would have admitted aloud. There was something horribly wrong about it. Seeing Harry Potter again after two years had been hard enough. It meant looking back at the moment his entire life had turned for the worse. To see Harry, who had been decent enough…when he wasn’t being heaped with accolades and cosseted by Dumbledore for being the school’s hero, transformed into a grim and dangerous monster, perfectly at home with killing his enemies…well…it seemed like the world had spun off it’s hinge and nothing could be right in a world like that.

Draco held his arm out gingerly, and winced a little when Molly’s calloused hand took his own. She centered her wand on a large burn scar that was still open after a month due to infection. Draco closed his eyes, fighting the nausea and hysteria that came from being touched. He’d learned to fight it well, but it seemed worse now that someone was touching him in kindness. Molly was gentle while she chanted her spells, but Draco’s memories of being touched were dominated by a year that could only have been described as hellish.

He could feel the weird, ticklish itch of fast healing skin on his arm. Molly was uttering another spell, this time at a nearly healed slash behind his elbow. He suppressed a shudder, but he could feel Molly’s grip on his hand change. She knew he wasn’t comfortable, bless her.

“Just a few more, love. We don’t have to hurry this unless you want to. I’ll just spell a couple more and we’ll round things off with a potion. Alright?”

Draco sighed relief, but kept his eyes closed. He’d cried enough in front of Mrs. Weasley for one day. He nodded in silence, glad that this would be over soon.

‘Fucking coward! You know she’s trying to help you. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s just her hand. She’s just holding your hand. She wouldn’t…won’t…you’re safe, damn it! Stop shaking like a fucking baby, Draco!’

The internal pep talk took up just enough of his attention to allow Molly to finish her spells. Draco felt his cheeks burning when she let go of his hand and reached for a potion. How humiliating. It wasn’t that he didn’t have good reasons for being a little ‘out of it‘, but it still rankled.

“Here you go. This will prevent re-infection while we wait to heal up the others. Its effect will hold for a few days, two at least, given the number of separate wounds. It won’t taste too awful, but I have some tea ready for you once you get it down. Then we can natter a bit and we’ll see if you can’t get a little more rest before supper tonight…and don’t you worry about resting too much! No such thing! It’s precisely what you need.”

“Thank you. I…I’m sorry I…I just…I can’t…”

Molly knew what he was trying to say. She nodded sagely, and held up a hand.

“Don’t worry for it, Draco. You’ve only just woke. New place, new faces and the like. Don’t feel like you’ve got to get well by tomorrow. These things take a bit. Just take your potion like a good lad. Nap if you feel like it…I’ve got a bit of needlework to keep me company awhile. We can always chat another time.”

Draco gulped the proffered potion down, and then gulped down the tea, washing away the heavy, herbal bite of the potion. Ever since he’d eaten, he’d felt sleepy, and it was easier than he’d imagined; just drifting into slumber while Molly’s needles clicked and clacked in the background.

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Harry paced the length of his room and back again. Draco’s mere presence made it almost impossible for him to relax. He’d already exercised, doing sit-ups until his stomach burned and push-ups until his arms ached, but he couldn’t concentrate on his Occlumency texts or his Wandless Magic Theory books. He’d been making great progress, until last night. These studies might not have been necessary if he’d had a seventh year at Hogwarts, and the reason he didn’t get one was lounging in the room next to him, eating Molly’s cooking and soaking up potions!

‘I’ve got to get him alone again. There are Death Eaters at the core of this, and he knows names and places. He must want them to suffer for what they did. If I can just get Molly away from him for awhile, I can get that information…then…then I can do a little ‘work’. There can’t be more than a dozen ex-Death Eaters in England, the rest are overseas. Every minute they’re free, another person could be going through whatever they did to Draco. I can make them stop. I can stop them all. Permanently.’

Harry heard footsteps in the hall, and a familiar gentle rap on his door. He stopped his pacing and opened it.

“Harry, dear. I’m Flooing into town for a few supplies. I exhausted some of my herb stocks last night, and Draco’s resting right now, so I thought I’d pick up a few things and be back in an hour or two. Just keep an eye on him, and if he needs help getting upright or down the hall, lend him a hand, will you?”

Harry’s grimace spoke volumes, but he nodded agreement anyway. At least he might get a little time alone with Draco now. Molly surveyed his expression, then stepped in and sat down on the edge of his bed, gesturing for Harry to sit in his chair.

“Harry, I’m sorry I was so curt with you last night. I know this isn’t easy for you; it’s written all over your face. You look at him and you see Hogwarts, and all the things that happened that night, don’t you?”

Harry sighed, knowing full well that she was right. He took his chair and flopped gracelessly into it, tired of feeling tense all day and keeping his concerns to himself.

“Yeah. Yeah I do. I know he seems harmless like this, but you’re not the first person to underestimate him. He was clever enough to find a way through Hogwarts wards, and even if he didn’t kill Albus himself, he nearly poisoned Ron, almost got Kate Bell cursed to death, and he let Greyback and a pack of murderers into a school full of children. If I hadn’t left that potion with Ron and the others, there’s no telling how many people could have been killed that night.

Molly…I can’t let that happen here. I just can’t. If anything happened to you two…it would kill me. I can’t help wondering if this is some elaborate plot like last time, and there’s some angle I haven’t seen yet. If I’d acted sooner last time, I could have stopped it all, and I won’t spend the rest of my life looking back at what I should have done…again. I know you want to help, and I told you I’d help, too, but don’t ask me to stop looking out for you. I won’t.”

Molly waited patiently until Harry was finished, and smiled, flattered beyond words by Harry’s protectiveness. There was good there, despite her disapproval for his activities. If she’d thought he was beyond help, she’d have insisted on his living elsewhere, but even if Harry was confused and angry, lashing out in controlled bursts at former Death Eaters, he was still Harry. He was a decent, loving boy that cared for those he loved the only way he knew how. There was hope here.

She’d disbelieved the accusations against him at first, only realizing what he’d been up to this past half year. It seemed impossible to imagine this quiet young man doing the things the papers described. Beheadings, burnt and butchered bodies scattered around tenement flats, gorier details left unmentioned by the press but whispered everywhere by Ministry people who’d cleaned up the mess. The first time she’d actually seen the monstrous side of Harry’s anger had been at the front walk of the Burrow, and it hadn’t seemed at all like the Harry she knew and loved. Before that, the only hints had been late night departures marked by the crack of Apparition, and occasional small stains of blood on his clothing when he returned.

She’d complained before, and more stridently as the Prophet began hounding Harry relentlessly, but it hadn’t done a lick of good. He always asserted his love of the Weasley family, and his need to protect people from further acts of terror. It was a sentiment that Molly even faintly agreed with at times.

It had been damnably hard when Ginny had died. They’d only just recovered from the shock, and were beginning to accept the permanent hole in their lives, when Hermione Granger’s murder left Ron a complete ruin. Her baby boy had lost his sister and his fiancé in a few short months, and it had broken her heart a thousand times to watch her Ron hurt so.

Perhaps…perhaps she’d let Harry fall into this…this state of affairs because she’d wanted him to get revenge, too. It hadn’t been healthy for Harry, or right or decent or good, but a part of her had wanted payback for her children’s pain, and for her own aching loss. She’d failed Harry then. There had been a time when her influence was strong enough to have stopped him from taking this path…and she’d been silent, and Harry had paid the price for that silence. She knew it had to stop now. The minute she’d seen him pulling Draco toward the wards, blazing-eyed and livid with cold fury, she’d recognized what would need to be done. She’d allowed something terrible to grow in Harry, and for better or worse, it had to be faced, drawn out, and done away with. She wouldn’t fail this wonderful, loving boy, who had literally saved them all, again.

“Harry. Don’t think for one minute that I’ve forgotten what happened. Arthur and I knew Albus before you were even born, and we miss him dearly. I don’t think Draco is suddenly innocent of the things he did, but I do know that Albus would have wanted this. He always believed that people could change if they wanted to, and I don’t feel any wickedness in that boy. He’s sick, and tired, and alone…and frightened. For all we know, the boy you knew at Hogwarts is dead and gone. This is a chance to see what kind of person he could have been all along…to let him be who he would have wanted to be. The war hurt almost everyone, Harry, and it looks like it hurt him as badly or worse than most. Be gentle with him, and perhaps we’ll see something that no one would have guessed was there. Will you try this…for me?”

Harry sighed expansively, and put his head in his hands. It was almost too much. The notion that Malfoy was not the same prat he’d known…it had crossed his mind a couple of times. It was hard to imagine anyone so badly scarred choosing to help the Death Eaters who did it. It was just damned hard to imagine Malfoy as harmless. When Molly said it, things just seemed more real, clearer, and possible. Harry acquiesced.

“Alright. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. As long as he doesn’t do anything suspicious, I’ll try to let the past stay in the past, and just see how things go. I’m doing it for you, though, not for him.”

Molly stood up and pulled Harry into a hug, kissing his forehead. “That’s all I could ask for, Harry. That’s all I could ask for.”

Draco could wait for another day. Molly shopped for her herbs, and Harry watched him sleep for awhile, keeping his distance in the hall. Draco slept fitfully, twitching and muttering all the while. Harry stood silent by the door, wondering what shape Draco Malfoy’s dreams took, and wondering if they were even half as unpleasant as his own.

TBC!!!