Mind Meld

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to JKR who makes money from them. Alas, I do not make any money from them. Don't even make money from the plot, which is somewhat mine.


Three days passed, it was a Sunday afternoon when Harry got the owl. It had a letter from Dumbledore asking that he and Hermione and Ron please go to the Headmaster’s office immediately. Harry showed the note to the other two and they warily made their way there.

They discussed what it could possibly be that they were being called for. Harry wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be one of his “extra” lessons, but why would the other two be called in?

It was worse than anything he could imagine. The Headmaster informed them that Hagrid had been on a special mission for the Order. He had been killed by Death Eaters. There was a spy in the Order. Hagrid’s mission had been kept very quiet, only the inner circle of the Order knew his location. The Death Eaters knew his destination and his path and had planned the precise location for an attack. Both Hagrid and Madame Maxime had both been killed.

Harry sat in silence. The words barely absorbed. It wasn’t true. He couldn’t believe it would possibly be true. Spy. Hagrid was dead. Spy. Traitor. He felt Hermione and Ron each taking an arm, helping him up. Hermione was crying. Ron looked close to tears as well. Harry felt like he should be crying too. But there weren’t any tears.

His head felt fuzzy. They headed to their Tower. Harry heard Draco saying something to him but he didn’t know what. Hermione was saying something to him as well. Something about going to the Great Hall for dinner.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. He pulled away from his two friends and raced off in the other direction. As soon as he was around the corner he pulled his cloak over him and ran. He kept running. His breath was coming in short pants, sweat was pouring off him. He ran through a couple of the ghosts but didn’t stop. When he reached the end of one hall, he simply turned and ran another direction. His mind wouldn’t register where he was going.

Finally he found himself at the Astronomy Tower. He collapsed on the ground in the corner. He was curled into a tight ball as he remembered taking Norbert up here his first year. That reminded him of Hagrid. Everything reminded him of Hagrid. He couldn’t breath. He could still hear Draco calling him. He sounded upset but Harry couldn’t really comprehend what he was saying.


Hours passed. Harry didn’t know really how long. He just knew that it was Sunday, there weren’t any classes so he didn’t have to move. The sun went down, the stars came out and still he sat there. The pain kept building in his chest. He wanted to scream out his pain and anger but he didn’t. He sat there. Curled in a ball, and occasionally rocking back and forth.

It was some time later before the door to the Astronomy Tower opened hesitantly. He didn’t look up, just hoped it wasn’t some couple getting ready to shag in front of him. He didn’t particularly care. He just wasn’t about to move.

He sensed rather than saw or heard Draco approach him. He looked up at him, forgetting that he had the cloak on. Draco was holding the map and had knelt down near where Harry was sitting. His hand slowly reached out until he found the cloak and pulled it off Harry.

When Draco looked into Harry’s eyes, the anguish reflected there was frightening. The feelings that he had been getting from Harry had been painful enough but was nothing compared to the look in Harry’s eyes.

He slid onto the ground next to Harry and wrapped his arms around him. The map lay on the ground between them and Draco pulled the cloak over both of them. He pulled Harry tightly into his embrace.

Harry resisted the embrace. He had never really known this kind of comfort before. Finally he slowly relaxed, leaning into the blonds embrace. The warmth of the arms around him, the concern radiating from him, the hand that hesitantly reached up and pulled Harry’s head into Draco’s chest, stroking his hair. He started shaking.

Draco was murmuring nonsense words to Harry. He didn’t know what to say. Dumbledore had informed the school of Hagrid’s death at dinner that evening. Before that, Draco was not sure what had caused Harry’s breakdown. Draco had needed to retreat for a while himself because of the exertion that Harry was doing, the pain and emotion.

Slowly, Harry began to talk to Draco. He told Draco about dreaming of the large man holding him snugly in his arms telling him that he was going to be safe as they flew over London on the flying motorbike. The point when he realized that this was the same man that rescued him after his parents were killed. Learning he was a wizard and was going to be getting away from the Dursley’s. He told Draco about Hedwig, how she was his first ever present. The words poured out. Some out loud, most using their own communication. Draco just held him close, rocking the other boy, sometimes stroking his hair, sometimes rubbing his back.

As the words poured out of the smaller boy, Draco began to feel the loss of the half-giant himself. He had never liked the man himself but hearing about Hagrid from his…from Harry, he started to realize that maybe he had allowed his parents to influence this as well. He was wrong about the professor and Harry’s grief was proof of that.

Still Harry didn’t cry. Draco felt the smaller boy shaking in his arms. He tipped Harry’s face up to look down into his eyes. The anguish seemed somehow greater. Draco felt tears slipping down his own face, to land on Harry’s.

Harry’s voice whispered brokenly, “I loved him Draco. I loved him and he died. Everyone dies on me. It’s my fault isn’t it?”

It was this broken question that caused Draco to start crying fully. “No Harry. Not your fault. Never your fault. Just those insane bastards.”

He moved himself and Harry so the other boy was pulled fully into his lap. Draco’s tears fell onto Harry’s face, leaving trails down both them.

‘I can’t cry Draco. Why can’t I cry? I should be,’ his voice was lost and forlorn.

“Don’t worry Harry, I’ll cry for both of us,” Draco whispered. He looked into Harry’s eyes and slowly, not knowing why exactly, he lowered his lips to Harry’s. The two met, their lips pressed very gently together. It was a kiss devoid entirely of passion, purely of comfort. Giving comfort, seeking solace, never deepening but going on for an eternity.

Finally Draco pulled back, looking into Harry’s eyes. His thumbs reached up and dried the trail of moisture that his own tears left down Harry’s face. Harry’s own fingers reached up to mirror the actions of Draco.

They spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. Occasionally kissing, mostly just holding each other. So wrapped up in each other and Harry’s misery that neither noticed the warm glow that enveloped them keeping them warm and safe.

As the light of dawn crept over the horizon, the two boys broke apart with one last light kiss and headed to their own rooms to sneak in before their dorm mates would awaken.

Several hours later, Harry woke to an empty room. Apparently Ron and Hermione had decided to let him sleep. As awareness swept over him, so too did the actions of the night before. He remembered with embarrassment kissing Draco. It was strange but it just felt right somehow. He wasn’t sure how to behave. Tentatively he reached out to Draco and was relieved to notice that Draco was feeling the same. Embarrassed, but no regret or disgust. Not to mention a great deal of confusion.

He knew he was straight. He really enjoyed the stunt that the Katie and Angelina and Ginny had done on the Quidditch pitch the other day. But it was different somehow. Maybe it was the spell. Maybe they were soul-mates.

Suddenly the rest of the evening flooded back. Hagrid’s death. Grief filled him again. He didn’t know what to do to get past it. This was different somehow from even Sirius’ death. He lay back down on his bed, not eager to go to The Great Hall. He didn’t want to face anyone yet. There was just so much. Too much to deal with. Kissing Draco, Hagrid’s death, the spy in the Order, everything was just too much he felt so alone.

‘Harry, it’s okay. It’s like your dreams, you aren’t alone. I’m here with you,’ Draco seemed to know just the words to say. No one ever knew what to say to Harry. He liked that Draco did.

‘I know Draco. I just feel like… I think sometimes I am cursed. Everyone that loves me gets killed you know? I tell myself that it isn’t my fault but how can I keep believing that? I love them, and they die. How much more can there be?’ Harry felt the desolation so deeply. His whole body felt like ice.

He felt something that was much like the press of Draco’s lips against his again. A soft smile spread across his face. He wanted to return the kiss, but wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with that today. Instead he settled for wrapping his arms around Draco and hugging him gently.

‘I think I need to be alone for a while today Draco. I mean, with my own thoughts and stuff,’ he could sense that Draco understood what Harry was trying to say. That he wasn’t rejecting Draco, just wanting some time to deal with the blow that he had been dealt.

‘Um, I can’t believe I am about to say this, but make sure you toss out a few “big oaf” and other insulting comments today. I know it will be difficult after last night but people will be expecting it,’ Harry felt the discomfort the idea gave Draco.

It was several hours later when Hermione and Ron found Harry. He was in the owlrey petting Hedwig. She was nibbling on his finger and cooing gently at him.

“Harry,” Hermione sounded hesitant. “Are you okay? I mean, you didn‘t go to any of your classes. I went ahead and got your work. The teachers weren‘t too upset, but I don‘t think you should skip any more.”

He turned to her and managed a small smile. He was feeling better. Not good exactly, but able to cope. And the several meals that he had missed were catching up to him as his stomach growled.

“Yeah, I just needed some time,” he gave Hedwig a final stroke before heading back to the main hall. “I m actually in need of food. Are they serving dinner yet?”

“Harry, do you want to talk,” Hermione really could be a bit of a pest sometimes when she got a thought in her head.

“No Hermione. I’m doing okay. Really,” he assured her at her look of doubt.

Ron came up to him and gave him a loose hug. “We are here if you want us mate. I’m going to miss him too.”

Harry followed his friends to the Great Hall. When he entered he heard the noise dim slightly, everyone seemed to be staring at him.

‘I’m sorry,’ came a quick comment from Draco.

It was followed by a cutting comment that explained the apology. “Oh goody, do we get to see old Scarhead go crazy again? What is his fascination with big hairy things anyhow?”

He reached for his wand and felt Ron and Hermione each grab an arm. Harry knew he wouldn’t have harmed Draco but the pain still cut deeply, even though he understood. Even though he had actually asked for the comment.

He growled deep in his throat and moved to the Gryffindor table. Heart heavy, Harry tried desperately to shake off the cutting pain.

Harry bit his lip with the effort of holding back his shaking. The pain seemed to be translating itself into raw fury. He gripped his wand tightly.

‘Harry, please, PLEASE don’t make me do that again,’ pleaded Draco.

Harry swallowed hard, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He felt along the bond that he shared with the blond and sensed how much taunting Harry during his obvious grief had hurt Draco.

‘I won’t,’ Harry said. ‘I’m sorry for putting you in that position.’

Harry took a breath and turned, Hermione and Ron still each holding an arm and went to the table. Very deliberately, Harry took a seat at the table and began to fill up a plate. His appetite had fled at the events in the Great Hall, both with Draco and just the spectacle of everyone staring at him.

Unwilling to give everyone another thing to talk about, Harry slowly began to eat his food, not looking at anyone. Eventually, the noise returned to the Hall when the other students realized that there wasn’t going to be a fight, nor was the Gryffindor going to break down.

The meal was almost over when once again, trouble struck Harry in the form of the Potions Professor.

“Mr. Potter, perhaps you feel that you are too good to attend classes with the rest of your class, but rest assured, I still expect you to be present for your detention.” With his message delivered, Snape stalked off out of the Hall.

Harry sighed and buried his head in his hands, unwilling to deal with another lesson so soon. He could hear Ron muttering about nasty Slytherins but couldn’t bring himself to contribute to the conversation, his own thoughts far more consumed with what he would say to Snape, who was sure to have questions that he would expect answered.