Harry Potter and The Secret Keeper (BP2)
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Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
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Adult ++
Chapters:
44
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32,287
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209
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
32,287
Reviews:
209
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Not His Place
Chapter Number/Total: 9/44
Chapter Title: Not His Place
Words: 3288 Words
Harry did go down to breakfast and sat at the table where Ron, Ginny and Charlie were already seated.
"Oh, Harry, you're awake," Mrs Weasley said. Harry noticed there was something a little funny about her voice and she cleared her throat oddly. "And where's Draco?"
"Taking a shower," Harry said slowly.
Ginny giggled, but quickly stopped.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Where are the twins?"
"Not here yet," said Charlie.
"When will your dad be home? Aren't you both heading over to Number Twelve today?"
"We're supposed to. Why, you coming?"
"Yeah, I think so. I thought it might be good to set things up right away, establish a few things, you know."
Charlie nodded. "Good idea," he said.
Mrs Weasley huffed and put a plate of food down in front of Harry. "Is Draco coming with me today?"
Harry nodded.
"Well, he should hurry up if he wants breakfast. I can't leave Bill alone."
Harry chose not to comment on the fact that Fleur apparently hadn't left the hospital one time.
Draco tried not to take too long in the shower, but no one knocked, so he let himself enjoy if for a few minutes. And he took care to clean himself well. He winced a few times, realising that he was pretty sore. Usually, they switched between who fucked whom much of the time. But the last several days, Harry had been very aggressive. Draco liked it but also wondered if part of it was tension over all the changes.
Finally, he was clean, dry and dressed. Dressing took a while again. He had decided to suffer the construct hand if it could be managed. He was frustrated with all the things he could no longer do or which seemed to take forever.
He came striding into the kitchen looking as confident as ever and more cheerful than most the Gryffindors had ever seen him.
Harry smiled and pulled out the chair next to him for Draco to sit down. He had already finished eating, but was sipping on tea now.
"Good morning, dear," said Mrs Weasley to Draco. "Hungry?"
"Yes, thank you," Draco said, sitting down in the chair, only wincing slightly as he did so. "And tea with milk and sugar, please."
"Of course," said Mrs Weasley. "I hope you're ready to go after you're finished eating. I don't mean to rush you, but my son is in the hospital and I don't want to keep him waiting. I think he'll be able to come home today!" she said happily.
Draco's face fell. He quickly replaced it with a suitably pleasant-looking expression but the light had died. He sipped at the tea given to him but suddenly had no appetite. Her son. Bill. Fenrir's victim. His fault. He wanted to run back up the stairs and throw up.
Harry stared at Draco and frowned slightly. He laid a hand on his leg.
Draco startled a bit and then held still. He was suddenly very sure he could not go to St Mungo's today. "Excuse me," he said politely, and left the table, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the bathroom. It was blessedly empty. He dashed in, closed and locked the door, and fell to his knees in front of the toilet, retching.
The kitchen was silent. Harry was frowning heavily.
"What's up?" asked Ron.
Harry shrugged, still frowning, and got to his feet to follow Draco up the stairs.
Draco had finished throwing up. At least he hoped so. He sat back on the tile floor with his back against the side of the tub and his head thrown back.
Harry went to their room first, but Draco wasn't there, so he went to the only other place Draco could be. He stood outside the bathroom door and knocked lightly. "Draco?" he asked quietly.
Draco tried to breathe through his nose for a moment. "Yes," he said, "be out in a moment."
Harry frowned and nodded, even though Draco couldn't see him. He leaned against the wall next to the door.
Draco had already taken his things back to the room. So he used a Cleaning Charm for his mouth, trying to get the taste and smell out. He splashed some water on his face and then flushed the toilet. He opened the door, his "normal" expression back in place.
Harry looked around when Draco emerged. "All right?" he asked, reaching out and rubbing his arm.
Draco nodded, patting his hand. "You should get going," he said. "And I think Mrs Weasley is waiting for me."
Harry raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Yeah, all right," he said. "I'll just grab my cloak real quick. You sure you'll be all right?"
Draco kissed him quickly and nodded, heading back down the stairs before he could change his mind.
Harry watched Draco go, worried. He went to their room again and grabbed his cloak before coming downstairs to see Draco and Mrs Weasley preparing to Floo.
Draco greeted Mrs Weasley when he came back in. "My apologies, I forgot something," he said. "Ready when you are."
"Well, let's go then, dear," she said. She spotted Harry. "Oh, I'll see you around dinner, all right?" she said to him. "And don't work yourself too hard with the Order. I still say you're too young."
Harry smiled and nodded before moving close to Draco and pecking him on the cheek. "Good luck. Love you," he whispered.
Draco took his hand, squeezing it before he stepped beside Mrs Weasley. His heart was pounding and he hoped he wouldn't get sick during the Floo trip.
Mrs Weasley took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, calling out, "St Mungo's!" and she was gone.
Harry watched as Draco prepared to leave, too.
"See you soon," Draco said, smiling. He was trembling slightly when he threw the Floo powder and then he spoke the words. He found himself bent over, gasping in the Floo arrival point at St Mungo's.
Harry sighed as Draco left and found that he somehow felt a bit empty without him there. He wandered back into the kitchen to see if Charlie was ready to leave yet and was soon gone himself, back to Grimmauld place and back to doing what he was destined to do. He'd enjoyed his short break from it all, but went back into it without hesitation.
Mrs Weasley was waiting for Draco to arrive, brushing soot from her robes and hair. There was a sudden roaring flame and Draco stumbled out of the fireplace and nearly fell to the ground. She rushed forward and grasped his arm. "Oh my - are you all right, dear?" she asked.
"Sure," he said, pulling back and shaking himself. "Just a rough trip."
Mrs Weasley tutted. "Yes, they can be like that sometimes," she said, moving over rather quickly to the reception desk. "I'm here to see Bill Weasley," she told the witch behind the desk.
The witch looked at her. "Yes. You know where he is I'm sure? You can head right up."
Mrs Weasley nodded and then turned and pulled Draco to her like she might one of her own children. "This is Draco Malfoy. He needed to come in to see someone about his arm. Go on and tell them, dear," she said to Draco. "I'll just wait here for you."
Draco's eyes widened at her treatment. It took him a few seconds to recover his voice. "I am supposed to talk to someone about a magical hand replacement," he said, holding up his nonexistent hand.
"Ah, yes. Mediwitch Glazer has you down here," said the witch, looking at the very long list in front of her. "She's with another patient right now, but she'll be available shortly. Perhaps you would like to just sit in the waiting room for a bit?"
Mrs Weasley answered before Draco could open his mouth. "Oh, he can come up with me to see Bill. That way he won't have to sit in this room all by himself."
The witch nodded. "That would be fine. I'll just let Mediwitch Glazer know where you are, Mr Malfoy."
Draco blanched even paler than usual. "Thank you, but I would just be intruding," he tried to explain.
"Oh, nonsense. You'll have to meet Bill sooner or later. You are staying at the house, after all, and I would feel awful leaving you here," said Mrs Weasley insistently, taking his hand.
Draco fought his body for control as he allowed himself to be dragged through the hospital by Mrs Weasley.
Mrs Weasley finally let him go when they were standing outside of Bill's door and she opened it up and walked in happily.
Draco stood in the door, unable to make himself cross the threshold. He wanted to run and his stomach was a hard knot in his gut. He kept his face immobile, trying to show none of what was going on inside him.
Mrs Weasley rushed over to Bill's bedside, ignoring Fleur's disgruntled look. "Oh, Bill, are you feeling all right today?" she asked, fluffing his pillows.
"Yes, Mum, I'm feeling fine," Bill said, kissing his mother on the cheek.
"I brought you something," said Mrs Weasley, and she pulled a small cake out of her bag and handed it to her son. "I just thought you'd like some home cooking and I know how this hospital food is." She sniffed.
Bill chuckled. "Thanks, Mum."
"Oh, hello, Fleur, dear."
Fleur smiled tightly.
"Oh," said Mrs Weasley suddenly. She looked around. "You know Draco Malfoy is staying with us. He's here, but where has he got to? Draco, dear?" she called.
Draco was frozen in place, unable to move forward or run. He found himself unable to gaze upon the face of the man whose injuries he was responsible for.
Mrs Weasley frowned and raised her eyebrows. "Draco?" she called again. She walked back over to the doorway and looked up at Draco. "Aren't you going to come in?" she asked, looking a little concerned.
Draco was breathing through his nose, a trick he had learnt years ago to calm himself and not let anyone know when he was upset. He tried to slow his breathing. Now, if he could only find a way to speak or move.
Mrs Weasley's frown increased. "Aren't you coming in?" she repeated.
"No," Draco finally got out. "I think I should wait here."
Mrs Weasley looked confused. "Well, why on earth do you think that?" she asked.
"Mum?" Bill called.
Draco could not think of a suitable reason. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to take a step into the room, careful not to look directly at anyone, especially the man in the bed.
Mrs Weasley cleared her throat. "This is Draco, Bill, Fleur."
Fleur nodded.
Bill stuck out his hand. "Hello," he said cheerfully.
Draco was clenching his teeth so hard they hurt. He forced himself to step forward and take the hand offered. He did not look up to meet the face that went with it. His hand trembled slightly as he shook Bill's.
Bill gave a barely audible snort. "I know it's ugly, but they tell me I'm not able to pass anything on," he said, sounding amused.
“You are not ugly," Fleur said from the chair next to Bill's bed.
Bill rolled his eyes.
Draco startled at that. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look up at the man. He schooled his features into pleasant calm as he did.
Bill grinned. He did still very much look like Bill, but his face was marred, and might've possibly been alarming to anyone who looked close.
"So, you're with Harry, then?" he asked, raising a scarred eyebrow.
Draco gave a soft smile. "Yes." He nodded to Fleur and greeted her in French.
Fleur looked a bit surprised and smiled, greeting him in her native tongue as well.
Bill laughed. "Finally, someone who speaks that. Maybe with you around, she won't be able to insult me behind my back.
Fleur scoffed and Mrs Weasley laughed a tiny bit.
Draco did smile then, saying to her in French, "I would not presume to tell your secrets." And to Bill in English, "I am sure they are only endearments."
Fleur gave a tinkling laugh and smiled delightedly and Bill laughed again as well.
"Ah, yes; once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin," he said.
They all laughed a bit more and then Mrs Weasley perked up. "Are they going to let you come home today?"
Bill gave a light shrug. "I think they might. There's nothing more they can do for me here. They've determined I can't pass anything on and that I should be perfectly fine besides a few small things."
"Oh, wonderful! I hope they let you come home! I don't like you being stuck here in this room."
Draco thought the two might prefer the privacy of this room to the commotion of the Weasley house, but said nothing. He found that he liked these two. It made his heart clench to realise what he had done to them but he would not burden them with that. He nodded politely and leaned against the wall, trying not to interfere.
"It really hasn't been all that bad, Mum. They've treated me just fine ... and you've been here nearly the whole time, so you know."
Fleur sniffed from her chair.
Bill shook his head and sighed at the two women. "Well, I won't say that I don't know a bit of what's going on, but why exactly are you here, Draco? I know it's something with your arm, but I'm just curious, and I haven't been able to talk to a bloke, besides my dad a few times, in what feels like ages."
Draco held up his left arm. He had used a spell to pin back the loose sleeve of his jacket. "I am supposed to get one of those magical replacement hands," he said quietly.
"Ahh," said Bill. "I'm not exactly clear on what happened to your arm, but I won't pry. Have you spoken to anyone about the replacement yet? I knew a bloke once that had a replacement arm but that was quite a while ago. There's Moody, of course, with his leg, but he isn't the greatest example."
"Indeed," Draco said, agreeing that the image didn't improve his view. "The hand had to be amputated to save my life," Draco said quietly, not knowing whether anyone had told Mrs Weasley either.
"Yeah," said Bill. "I heard Harry did it. He can't do anything without the papers printing a story on it."
Draco's eyes widened. No one had told him The Daily Prophet had published anything about his arm. He nodded to Bill, still at a loss for words that the entire Wizarding world knew about his ... injury.
Bill noted Draco's expression. "It was in the paper after everything with the Ministry. You have an interrogation coming up, right? Supposedly they're saying the arm was cut off to remove the Dark Mark."
Draco was glad he was leaning against the wall. It helped hide his reaction. He had known this would be the Ministry's reaction but he hadn't counted on their publishing such speculation. That would make him a very unpopular person in the general Wizarding community. The Daily Prophet rarely printed retractions, so even clearing his name was unlikely to change people's opinions on this matter. "It wasn't," he said simply.
"I didn't think Harry would love a Death Eater," Bill said reassuringly.
"None of us think that, dear," said Mrs Weasley.
Draco thought about that. He had come very close to being a Death Eater. He realised he needed to start reading the Prophet if he was going to help Harry with everything and keep up with what people said about them. Harry might not think it mattered, but Draco knew better.
There was a tap at the door and everyone looked toward it. "Mr Malfoy?" a young witch asked. Draco stepped forward, nodding. "Oh, good, Mediwitch Glazer will see you now."
"I will be right there," Draco said. He turned to Bill and Fleur. "Congratulations on your wedding plans," he said. "I expect to see you later."
"Thanks," said Bill, smiling. "I'm sure you will. Good luck."
Fleur smiled and gave a small wave and a flip of her hair.
"Yes, good luck, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "You can just find me in here when you're through."
Draco nodded politely to them all and followed the witch to his appointment.
***
Draco was exhausted. He was standing quietly by while Mrs Weasley arranged for everyone to Floo back. He stood out of the way as much as possible, watching Bill's mother and Fleur argue over who would do what for him.
Bill held his hands up. "Please," he said. "I'm fine, really I am. I can get the Floo myself."
Mrs Weasley huffed and Fleur crossed her arms.
Bill reached into Mrs Weasley's bag and pulled some powder out before throwing it into the fireplace.
"Would you like to go first, Draco?" he asked.
Draco shook his head and waited for them to go.
Bill shrugged and stepped into the flames. "The Burrow!" he said loudly, and he was gone.
Fleur was next, looking haughty.
"Take some powder, dear," Mrs Weasley said to Draco, holding out her bag. She sounded a bit stern after her arguing with Fleur.
He shrugged and nodded at the same time, taking the powder and gesturing for her to go first.
She smiled. "Very polite of you. Do hurry up. I don't want to worry," she said before taking out some powder herself and tossing it in. "The Burrow!" she cried and she too was gone.
Draco stood in front of the Floo for a few minutes. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for. He ached for Harry with every part of himself, yet the longer he stood there, the harder it seemed to throw the powder. He held out his "hands," looking at them. His right hand, holding the powder -- long pale fingers; the left -- a steel mechanism with thick fingers protruding from the sleeve of his robe. In many ways, he found it uglier than the lack of a hand had been. It just didn't look like it belonged there.
That thought had him spiralling in his mind about where he, himself, actually belonged. The Burrow was certainly not his place. The Manor was no longer his place. Hogwarts, if it ever had been, was no longer a place for him. He had never been homeless before and the idea had only occurred to him that day. Bill, for all his damage, was going home. Draco had no such place anymore. The only thing he had was Harry. He was Harry's. And while that filled him with delight, he didn't feel that it was really that good a thing for Harry to be saddled with -- a homeless, crippled, suspected Death Eater, who, even though he had not taken the Dark Mark, had helped in the maiming of Bill and the killing of Dumbledore.
If he walked away, Draco would be dead by morning. He knew that because it was nearly late enough to have been twenty-four hours since Harry had entered him. He could feel the cold in his remaining limbs even now. Harry would be with all his friends and they could take care of him. Draco looked again at the powder in his hand and spread his fingers, allowing it to slip between them like sand.
Chapter Title: Not His Place
Words: 3288 Words
Harry did go down to breakfast and sat at the table where Ron, Ginny and Charlie were already seated.
"Oh, Harry, you're awake," Mrs Weasley said. Harry noticed there was something a little funny about her voice and she cleared her throat oddly. "And where's Draco?"
"Taking a shower," Harry said slowly.
Ginny giggled, but quickly stopped.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Where are the twins?"
"Not here yet," said Charlie.
"When will your dad be home? Aren't you both heading over to Number Twelve today?"
"We're supposed to. Why, you coming?"
"Yeah, I think so. I thought it might be good to set things up right away, establish a few things, you know."
Charlie nodded. "Good idea," he said.
Mrs Weasley huffed and put a plate of food down in front of Harry. "Is Draco coming with me today?"
Harry nodded.
"Well, he should hurry up if he wants breakfast. I can't leave Bill alone."
Harry chose not to comment on the fact that Fleur apparently hadn't left the hospital one time.
Draco tried not to take too long in the shower, but no one knocked, so he let himself enjoy if for a few minutes. And he took care to clean himself well. He winced a few times, realising that he was pretty sore. Usually, they switched between who fucked whom much of the time. But the last several days, Harry had been very aggressive. Draco liked it but also wondered if part of it was tension over all the changes.
Finally, he was clean, dry and dressed. Dressing took a while again. He had decided to suffer the construct hand if it could be managed. He was frustrated with all the things he could no longer do or which seemed to take forever.
He came striding into the kitchen looking as confident as ever and more cheerful than most the Gryffindors had ever seen him.
Harry smiled and pulled out the chair next to him for Draco to sit down. He had already finished eating, but was sipping on tea now.
"Good morning, dear," said Mrs Weasley to Draco. "Hungry?"
"Yes, thank you," Draco said, sitting down in the chair, only wincing slightly as he did so. "And tea with milk and sugar, please."
"Of course," said Mrs Weasley. "I hope you're ready to go after you're finished eating. I don't mean to rush you, but my son is in the hospital and I don't want to keep him waiting. I think he'll be able to come home today!" she said happily.
Draco's face fell. He quickly replaced it with a suitably pleasant-looking expression but the light had died. He sipped at the tea given to him but suddenly had no appetite. Her son. Bill. Fenrir's victim. His fault. He wanted to run back up the stairs and throw up.
Harry stared at Draco and frowned slightly. He laid a hand on his leg.
Draco startled a bit and then held still. He was suddenly very sure he could not go to St Mungo's today. "Excuse me," he said politely, and left the table, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the bathroom. It was blessedly empty. He dashed in, closed and locked the door, and fell to his knees in front of the toilet, retching.
The kitchen was silent. Harry was frowning heavily.
"What's up?" asked Ron.
Harry shrugged, still frowning, and got to his feet to follow Draco up the stairs.
Draco had finished throwing up. At least he hoped so. He sat back on the tile floor with his back against the side of the tub and his head thrown back.
Harry went to their room first, but Draco wasn't there, so he went to the only other place Draco could be. He stood outside the bathroom door and knocked lightly. "Draco?" he asked quietly.
Draco tried to breathe through his nose for a moment. "Yes," he said, "be out in a moment."
Harry frowned and nodded, even though Draco couldn't see him. He leaned against the wall next to the door.
Draco had already taken his things back to the room. So he used a Cleaning Charm for his mouth, trying to get the taste and smell out. He splashed some water on his face and then flushed the toilet. He opened the door, his "normal" expression back in place.
Harry looked around when Draco emerged. "All right?" he asked, reaching out and rubbing his arm.
Draco nodded, patting his hand. "You should get going," he said. "And I think Mrs Weasley is waiting for me."
Harry raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Yeah, all right," he said. "I'll just grab my cloak real quick. You sure you'll be all right?"
Draco kissed him quickly and nodded, heading back down the stairs before he could change his mind.
Harry watched Draco go, worried. He went to their room again and grabbed his cloak before coming downstairs to see Draco and Mrs Weasley preparing to Floo.
Draco greeted Mrs Weasley when he came back in. "My apologies, I forgot something," he said. "Ready when you are."
"Well, let's go then, dear," she said. She spotted Harry. "Oh, I'll see you around dinner, all right?" she said to him. "And don't work yourself too hard with the Order. I still say you're too young."
Harry smiled and nodded before moving close to Draco and pecking him on the cheek. "Good luck. Love you," he whispered.
Draco took his hand, squeezing it before he stepped beside Mrs Weasley. His heart was pounding and he hoped he wouldn't get sick during the Floo trip.
Mrs Weasley took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, calling out, "St Mungo's!" and she was gone.
Harry watched as Draco prepared to leave, too.
"See you soon," Draco said, smiling. He was trembling slightly when he threw the Floo powder and then he spoke the words. He found himself bent over, gasping in the Floo arrival point at St Mungo's.
Harry sighed as Draco left and found that he somehow felt a bit empty without him there. He wandered back into the kitchen to see if Charlie was ready to leave yet and was soon gone himself, back to Grimmauld place and back to doing what he was destined to do. He'd enjoyed his short break from it all, but went back into it without hesitation.
Mrs Weasley was waiting for Draco to arrive, brushing soot from her robes and hair. There was a sudden roaring flame and Draco stumbled out of the fireplace and nearly fell to the ground. She rushed forward and grasped his arm. "Oh my - are you all right, dear?" she asked.
"Sure," he said, pulling back and shaking himself. "Just a rough trip."
Mrs Weasley tutted. "Yes, they can be like that sometimes," she said, moving over rather quickly to the reception desk. "I'm here to see Bill Weasley," she told the witch behind the desk.
The witch looked at her. "Yes. You know where he is I'm sure? You can head right up."
Mrs Weasley nodded and then turned and pulled Draco to her like she might one of her own children. "This is Draco Malfoy. He needed to come in to see someone about his arm. Go on and tell them, dear," she said to Draco. "I'll just wait here for you."
Draco's eyes widened at her treatment. It took him a few seconds to recover his voice. "I am supposed to talk to someone about a magical hand replacement," he said, holding up his nonexistent hand.
"Ah, yes. Mediwitch Glazer has you down here," said the witch, looking at the very long list in front of her. "She's with another patient right now, but she'll be available shortly. Perhaps you would like to just sit in the waiting room for a bit?"
Mrs Weasley answered before Draco could open his mouth. "Oh, he can come up with me to see Bill. That way he won't have to sit in this room all by himself."
The witch nodded. "That would be fine. I'll just let Mediwitch Glazer know where you are, Mr Malfoy."
Draco blanched even paler than usual. "Thank you, but I would just be intruding," he tried to explain.
"Oh, nonsense. You'll have to meet Bill sooner or later. You are staying at the house, after all, and I would feel awful leaving you here," said Mrs Weasley insistently, taking his hand.
Draco fought his body for control as he allowed himself to be dragged through the hospital by Mrs Weasley.
Mrs Weasley finally let him go when they were standing outside of Bill's door and she opened it up and walked in happily.
Draco stood in the door, unable to make himself cross the threshold. He wanted to run and his stomach was a hard knot in his gut. He kept his face immobile, trying to show none of what was going on inside him.
Mrs Weasley rushed over to Bill's bedside, ignoring Fleur's disgruntled look. "Oh, Bill, are you feeling all right today?" she asked, fluffing his pillows.
"Yes, Mum, I'm feeling fine," Bill said, kissing his mother on the cheek.
"I brought you something," said Mrs Weasley, and she pulled a small cake out of her bag and handed it to her son. "I just thought you'd like some home cooking and I know how this hospital food is." She sniffed.
Bill chuckled. "Thanks, Mum."
"Oh, hello, Fleur, dear."
Fleur smiled tightly.
"Oh," said Mrs Weasley suddenly. She looked around. "You know Draco Malfoy is staying with us. He's here, but where has he got to? Draco, dear?" she called.
Draco was frozen in place, unable to move forward or run. He found himself unable to gaze upon the face of the man whose injuries he was responsible for.
Mrs Weasley frowned and raised her eyebrows. "Draco?" she called again. She walked back over to the doorway and looked up at Draco. "Aren't you going to come in?" she asked, looking a little concerned.
Draco was breathing through his nose, a trick he had learnt years ago to calm himself and not let anyone know when he was upset. He tried to slow his breathing. Now, if he could only find a way to speak or move.
Mrs Weasley's frown increased. "Aren't you coming in?" she repeated.
"No," Draco finally got out. "I think I should wait here."
Mrs Weasley looked confused. "Well, why on earth do you think that?" she asked.
"Mum?" Bill called.
Draco could not think of a suitable reason. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to take a step into the room, careful not to look directly at anyone, especially the man in the bed.
Mrs Weasley cleared her throat. "This is Draco, Bill, Fleur."
Fleur nodded.
Bill stuck out his hand. "Hello," he said cheerfully.
Draco was clenching his teeth so hard they hurt. He forced himself to step forward and take the hand offered. He did not look up to meet the face that went with it. His hand trembled slightly as he shook Bill's.
Bill gave a barely audible snort. "I know it's ugly, but they tell me I'm not able to pass anything on," he said, sounding amused.
“You are not ugly," Fleur said from the chair next to Bill's bed.
Bill rolled his eyes.
Draco startled at that. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look up at the man. He schooled his features into pleasant calm as he did.
Bill grinned. He did still very much look like Bill, but his face was marred, and might've possibly been alarming to anyone who looked close.
"So, you're with Harry, then?" he asked, raising a scarred eyebrow.
Draco gave a soft smile. "Yes." He nodded to Fleur and greeted her in French.
Fleur looked a bit surprised and smiled, greeting him in her native tongue as well.
Bill laughed. "Finally, someone who speaks that. Maybe with you around, she won't be able to insult me behind my back.
Fleur scoffed and Mrs Weasley laughed a tiny bit.
Draco did smile then, saying to her in French, "I would not presume to tell your secrets." And to Bill in English, "I am sure they are only endearments."
Fleur gave a tinkling laugh and smiled delightedly and Bill laughed again as well.
"Ah, yes; once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin," he said.
They all laughed a bit more and then Mrs Weasley perked up. "Are they going to let you come home today?"
Bill gave a light shrug. "I think they might. There's nothing more they can do for me here. They've determined I can't pass anything on and that I should be perfectly fine besides a few small things."
"Oh, wonderful! I hope they let you come home! I don't like you being stuck here in this room."
Draco thought the two might prefer the privacy of this room to the commotion of the Weasley house, but said nothing. He found that he liked these two. It made his heart clench to realise what he had done to them but he would not burden them with that. He nodded politely and leaned against the wall, trying not to interfere.
"It really hasn't been all that bad, Mum. They've treated me just fine ... and you've been here nearly the whole time, so you know."
Fleur sniffed from her chair.
Bill shook his head and sighed at the two women. "Well, I won't say that I don't know a bit of what's going on, but why exactly are you here, Draco? I know it's something with your arm, but I'm just curious, and I haven't been able to talk to a bloke, besides my dad a few times, in what feels like ages."
Draco held up his left arm. He had used a spell to pin back the loose sleeve of his jacket. "I am supposed to get one of those magical replacement hands," he said quietly.
"Ahh," said Bill. "I'm not exactly clear on what happened to your arm, but I won't pry. Have you spoken to anyone about the replacement yet? I knew a bloke once that had a replacement arm but that was quite a while ago. There's Moody, of course, with his leg, but he isn't the greatest example."
"Indeed," Draco said, agreeing that the image didn't improve his view. "The hand had to be amputated to save my life," Draco said quietly, not knowing whether anyone had told Mrs Weasley either.
"Yeah," said Bill. "I heard Harry did it. He can't do anything without the papers printing a story on it."
Draco's eyes widened. No one had told him The Daily Prophet had published anything about his arm. He nodded to Bill, still at a loss for words that the entire Wizarding world knew about his ... injury.
Bill noted Draco's expression. "It was in the paper after everything with the Ministry. You have an interrogation coming up, right? Supposedly they're saying the arm was cut off to remove the Dark Mark."
Draco was glad he was leaning against the wall. It helped hide his reaction. He had known this would be the Ministry's reaction but he hadn't counted on their publishing such speculation. That would make him a very unpopular person in the general Wizarding community. The Daily Prophet rarely printed retractions, so even clearing his name was unlikely to change people's opinions on this matter. "It wasn't," he said simply.
"I didn't think Harry would love a Death Eater," Bill said reassuringly.
"None of us think that, dear," said Mrs Weasley.
Draco thought about that. He had come very close to being a Death Eater. He realised he needed to start reading the Prophet if he was going to help Harry with everything and keep up with what people said about them. Harry might not think it mattered, but Draco knew better.
There was a tap at the door and everyone looked toward it. "Mr Malfoy?" a young witch asked. Draco stepped forward, nodding. "Oh, good, Mediwitch Glazer will see you now."
"I will be right there," Draco said. He turned to Bill and Fleur. "Congratulations on your wedding plans," he said. "I expect to see you later."
"Thanks," said Bill, smiling. "I'm sure you will. Good luck."
Fleur smiled and gave a small wave and a flip of her hair.
"Yes, good luck, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "You can just find me in here when you're through."
Draco nodded politely to them all and followed the witch to his appointment.
***
Draco was exhausted. He was standing quietly by while Mrs Weasley arranged for everyone to Floo back. He stood out of the way as much as possible, watching Bill's mother and Fleur argue over who would do what for him.
Bill held his hands up. "Please," he said. "I'm fine, really I am. I can get the Floo myself."
Mrs Weasley huffed and Fleur crossed her arms.
Bill reached into Mrs Weasley's bag and pulled some powder out before throwing it into the fireplace.
"Would you like to go first, Draco?" he asked.
Draco shook his head and waited for them to go.
Bill shrugged and stepped into the flames. "The Burrow!" he said loudly, and he was gone.
Fleur was next, looking haughty.
"Take some powder, dear," Mrs Weasley said to Draco, holding out her bag. She sounded a bit stern after her arguing with Fleur.
He shrugged and nodded at the same time, taking the powder and gesturing for her to go first.
She smiled. "Very polite of you. Do hurry up. I don't want to worry," she said before taking out some powder herself and tossing it in. "The Burrow!" she cried and she too was gone.
Draco stood in front of the Floo for a few minutes. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for. He ached for Harry with every part of himself, yet the longer he stood there, the harder it seemed to throw the powder. He held out his "hands," looking at them. His right hand, holding the powder -- long pale fingers; the left -- a steel mechanism with thick fingers protruding from the sleeve of his robe. In many ways, he found it uglier than the lack of a hand had been. It just didn't look like it belonged there.
That thought had him spiralling in his mind about where he, himself, actually belonged. The Burrow was certainly not his place. The Manor was no longer his place. Hogwarts, if it ever had been, was no longer a place for him. He had never been homeless before and the idea had only occurred to him that day. Bill, for all his damage, was going home. Draco had no such place anymore. The only thing he had was Harry. He was Harry's. And while that filled him with delight, he didn't feel that it was really that good a thing for Harry to be saddled with -- a homeless, crippled, suspected Death Eater, who, even though he had not taken the Dark Mark, had helped in the maiming of Bill and the killing of Dumbledore.
If he walked away, Draco would be dead by morning. He knew that because it was nearly late enough to have been twenty-four hours since Harry had entered him. He could feel the cold in his remaining limbs even now. Harry would be with all his friends and they could take care of him. Draco looked again at the powder in his hand and spread his fingers, allowing it to slip between them like sand.