Healing

Authors Note: Many thanks to my lovely beta Alexandra. So I'm leaving for Philly today, and probably won't get a chance to post again until middle of next week. I hope you are all enjoying the stories and the cliffhangers wink. I hope I have lots of reviews when I get back!! I'm also working on another story (I know, I know) called Rivaling Affections, which is of course another Harry/Draco. I will most likely start posting it when I get back, so look for it mid-next week.

Chapter 8 Nightmare

Draco enjoyed his morning tea before going to wake Harry. He was so proud of himself for not sneaking into his room in the middle of the night, or letting Harry have his way the night before. He thought that he could manage it. It would take a fine balance to be Potter’s healer, given the attachment he had, but he felt as though he could succeed.

He walked back to his bedroom and opened the door. Harry was sprawled across his bedspread like a dark angel and it made him momentarily shudder. He stepped further into the room and saw that Harry was caught in a dream, a decidedly nice dream at that.

Harry was writhing on the bed and moaning erotically.

Draco stood transfixed by the show. The blanket slipped from Harry’s squirming form and exposed him to Draco. He stared finally able to really see the boy in all his glory. He had seen Harry naked before of course, but never like this, never so open and vulnerable, unable to make Draco stop looking, or chastise himself for staring too long.

He soaked in every detail of the boy writhing on his bed, the shape of his face, the expanse of bare muscled chest, the dip between his hips, and how the bones there jutted out like sharp wings. He memorized his firm thighs, which were paler than the rest of him, but not nearly as pale as his feet, which must never have seen the light of day.

His attention was immediately stolen toward his cock, as Harry snaked a hand down and grasped it firmly. He looked up in a moment of panic to see if he had been caught staring, but Harry seemed to be still fast asleep, locked in an erotic fantasy.

Harry’s cock was already swollen and erect after only a couple strokes and Draco watched him without blinking as Harry jerked himself off… on his bed, without his permission, and not even aware of what he was doing. Draco should have been mad but he couldn’t get up the energy to be upset.

He could only stare as Harry’s fist pumped up and down on his own cock. He could only watch as a sheen of sweat shimmered on his chest and forehead. He could only groan at the power in those muscled arms. And he could only wish it was his mouth on him as he did it.

Draco shook his head violently to clear the thoughts away. These thoughts were not appropriate, not only for Harry’s best interest, but also his own. The minute Harry got better, he would leave and if Draco got too attached he would get hurt when he did.

“Malfoy,” Harry whispered.

He went rigid at the sound of his name, his eyes flickering up to make certain Harry’s were still closed.

They were.

He called out his name, in the heat of orgasm, and it was obvious by the beautiful guttural noises Harry was making that he was coming; he had called out his name. He was fantasizing about him, jerking himself off to images of him, doing what only Merlin knew.

His heart raced and panic set it.

Of course he was fantasizing about him, Draco reasoned... he’d never been with another man, it was only a natural reaction.

The logical thoughts didn’t stop him from wanting to earn his name being called out that way. He shook his head and fled the room; this was not going to work. He couldn’t keep the balance like he thought he could.

He had to call Lexi.

--

Harry rolled over at the sound of the outside door slamming and found himself waking up in a puddle of warm sticky liquid. He groaned and cast a quick cleaning charm, hoping to Merlin Draco wouldn’t notice the state of his sheets.

He pulled himself from bed and pulled on his clothes from last night. When he left the room he found the flat empty, but another cup of tea was left in the kettle, so he poured it for himself and let the warmth of it course through him.

He wondered briefly why Draco hadn’t woken him, but maybe it was just his way. He had an appointment with him in an hour or so, and he could ask him then.

After apparating back home, showering and changing, he was on his way to the clinic.

--

Lexi was behind the counter as usual, but after his outburst and the new information he had about her, it seemed unusual.

“Lexi,” he said in greeting.

She narrowed her eyes. “You seem awfully… chipper today, Mr. Potter,” she said suspiciously.

“And you seem you’re normal level of grumpy,” he replied with a smile.

“I’m afraid Mr. Malfoy can’t meet with you, I’ve arranged for Giaus to work with you instead,” she said casually.

“Are you fucking with me because I’m in a good mood? I had an appointment,” he stated, feeling like he was stating the obvious.

“I know, but unfortunately Mr. Malfoy has resigned from your case,” she said leveling her gaze at him as if daring him to challenge her.

“He… asked to be removed from working with me?” Harry asked tentatively.

She nodded, and it looked as though she regretted to have to do so. “Yes, he did. Only just this morning.”

“I see,” Harry sulked.

“Would you like to meet with Giaus?” she asked and Harry nodded.

--

Giaus was a self absorbed, egotistical arsebucket and that was saying something considering he was used to dealing with Malfoy. Up until he met Giaus, Harry had assumed Draco was some sort of king amongst evil jerks, but this guy made Draco seem like some distantly related Duke in comparison.

“Do you really think you’re special?” the pretentious twit asked Harry. He was leaning forward in his chair, tapping his fingers together and watching Harry intently.

“No,” Harry blurted.

Giaus gave him a look that showed clearly his disbelief in Harry’s answer. “Then why are you here? You are only one of the thousands of people who lost someone to the war. If you don’t think you’re special, then why can’t you move on like the rest of us have?”

“I don’t know,” Harry grumbled.

“Is this some sort of attention seeking tactic?” Giaus asked. “I always read that you were a bit overdramatic and wanted to whole wizarding world to look at you.”

Harry’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Oh? Then how do you explain the fact that I’ve taken myself completely out of the wizarding world? I could care less if anyone ever recognized me again, I got enough fame when I was a teenager, and you know what came from it? Nothing!” Harry spat.

He stood and pressed his finger in the other mans face. “People like you sought to make my teenage life hell. Spreading rumors through the Profit, persecuting the people I loved, and making me feel like I had to hide from everyone and just do my duty,” he shouted.

“And do you know what that duty was? The fate placed upon the shoulders of an eleven year old boy? It was death. I was meant to kill the most powerful and feared wizard of our time. I was just a boy!” he yelled, collapsing back in his chair.

Giaus stared a moment and then slowly clapped and sneered. “Do you feel better now that you got to put on a show for me? No wonder Draco quit if that’s the kind of nonsense he has to put up with from you.”

His jaw dropped for a moment but Harry quickly composed himself and walked calmly from the room, letting the door shut softly behind him. He wasn’t going to give Giaus the benefit of another outburst, but he couldn’t stay in the same room with the man without hexing him.

It was one thing for Draco to talk about his past, Draco knew him, they practically grew up side by side at Hogwarts, but this man had never even met him. He was just another wizard who thought the tabloid Harry was the real Harry.

Lexi was sitting at the front desk still, and looked startled when he entered. “You didn’t use up your full session, Mr. Potter. Something wrong?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not working with him again. Call me when Malfoy decides to take me back,” he said softly. The words meant more to Harry than he thought she knew, but then again, she was always surprising him, so perhaps she knew exactly what he meant.

She sighed and nodded. “I’ll talk to him,” she promised. “But I won’t have him compromising himself for any of his clients, not even you Harry.” Her voice was soft and made the impact of her words that much more potent, although Harry couldn’t begin to fathom how his continuing to work with Draco would impact the other man at all.

Though he still wondered why Malfoy had dropped him in the first place.

--

Harry tried to sleep when he got home, but his mind was confused and angry and turned his thoughts against him in a stream of vicious bloody images.

He envisioned the deaths of Lupin and Tonks, as if it happened right in front of him. He had no way of really knowing if they had suffered, but in his mind, they would writhe in agony for hours before finally losing their mind and having their lives snuffed out.

The worst part about his visions was that in every instance, Harry was holding the wand. Not some nameless, faceless death eater and certainly not Voldemort. It was always Harry. He would level his wand at Fred, or Lupin or Moody and cast the killing curse, and then he would turn to Ron. “Avada Kedavra,” he would shout, sending the bolt of green at his best friend. Then he would move to Hermione, who would be sobbing for Harry to stop, to wake up and to see what he was doing to himself, but she would fall like the rest.

Poor Teddy was saved for last, the little boy that Harry hadn’t seen since he was an infant. He was appointed as his godfather, and he abandoned him just like the rest… left him to grow up with his grandmother and no sign of Harry in his life.

Harry hefted his wand and aimed it at the small child, now almost old enough to begin Hogwarts. The boy’s hair morphed from a sandy brown to a bright red right before Harry’s eyes. The boy smiled at him and held out his hand. “Uncle Harry,” he said, his voice small but unafraid.

“No,” Harry shouted, shaking his head. He aimed the wand again, right at the boy’s chest. “Avada-“

“Teddy!” Harry screamed, sitting bolt upright in his bed, his heart pounding and his head quickly joining the rhythm. He sucked in gasping breaths and tried to calm himself.

Harry climbed groggily from bed and tried to shake away the nightmare. Every time he woke up that way he felt like he needed a shower, or several showers. He felt as though he were covered in a layer of grit and grime that no soap would ever be able to remove.

His shower would need to wait however, because before Harry could make it to the bathroom, a loud tapping erupted from his window.

Harry walked over and let the small tawny owl fly around his loft before finally landing on Harry’s shoulder. He untied the small scroll and the owl flew away. Harry unrolled it and read the note quickly, for it was very brief, and he smiled to himself. It said simply:

Harry,

Ron told me everything.

We love you and we’re here if you need us.

Love Always,

Mione

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

The clarity and calm the small loving note brought him was almost as brief as the note itself however, and a moment later the pain and blood were once again forefront in his mind.

Only one thing made it better, and he had to go see him to get answers.

Authors Note: Please review! I hope to come home to a full inbox!!