Blue Eyed Dragon

Author\'s Notes: Harry Potter, including all related characters and places, belong to the wonderful, talented, and brilliantly creative goddess J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros.,Scholastic Books etc. I\'m merely borrowing them for my sick, perverse, and twisted entertainment and amusement.

This story contains SLASH/YAOI (male/male paring). If this bothers you, do not read it. I take no responsibilty for your getting upset, sick, mad, or in trouble because you chose to read my story.

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CHAPTER ONE

Harry bolted upright in his bed dripping with sweat and breathing heavily. The flashbacks were still more vivid than ever. He constantly saw the faces of his friends through flashes of light; he heard their voices carry over the curses that hundreds of people were yelling all at once. And he saw them fall. Time and time again he saw a flash of green light and Percy Weasley falling to the ground. Another flash and Oliver Wood fell. Another flash; Angelina Johnson… He’d been having the flashbacks for weeks now and each day they got more and more vivid and terrifying. But no flashback frightened him more than those where he saw himself killing Lord Voldemort.

The wizarding world before and during the war was a horrifying place. Everyone accused everyone else of being a Death Eater. Families, friends, wives, husbands, mothers, fathers, sons and daughters turned on each other. Families were torn to pieces; life long friendships were destroyed beyond repair. In the end everyone turned to Harry Potter to save their world and their lives. Harry rose to the occasion, of course, but at a very high price.

Voldemort’s death hadn’t changed the wizarding world at first. But it had changed Harry. After the final battle, Harry had started to pull away from Ron and Hermione. As the years went on, accusations died down, the hysteria from the war fizzed out and Harry slowly began spending time with his friends again. But inside, Harry was a wreck. The memories of the battles were tearing him apart and he had no way to release the pressure.

Harry climbed out of bed.

There goes the good night’s sleep I need… he thought.

He’d had a rough week. Classes were about to begin and Harry was busy researching ways to deflect the new curses that were appearing around England lately.

Harry threw on a pair of faded blue jeans and a thin, white t-shirt, grabbed his Firebolt4185 and headed out for the Quidditch pitch. He loved flying at night; it calmed him and let his thoughts flow freely.

Harry mounted his broom and took off. He soaked in the freedom he felt; the wind rushing through his already messy hair, having nothing beneath his feet…Harry couldn’t get enough of it.

As Harry soared, he thought, I need to get these nightmares under control! I’ll go insane if I don’t. Not to mention my students will suffer…Think Potter!

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw someone walking onto the Quidditch pitch. As soon as he saw the slicked back, blond hair, Harry knew it was Malfoy.

What’s he doing up so late?

***

Draco mounted his Nimbus2284 and drifted deep into his thoughts.

(flashback)

“He’s in there,” Draco said reluctantly, pointing to the door.

Three men in black, hooded robes violently pushed their way past him. Then came the screams.

“No! You’ve got it all wrong! Draco! How could you?” Draco cringed; he knew what he’d just done.

“Avada Kedavra!”

He saw a quick flash of green light and he fell to his knees; tears were streaming down his cheeks.

(end flashback)

Draco shook his head. That had been eight years ago. He hated this time of year because no matter how long ago it was, Draco still couldn’t get rid of the nightmares.

Draco soared higher and tried to focus on the Quidditch pitch below him. He saw Harry and groaned.

Not now... Please. Just not now…

But it was too late. Harry had spotted him and was headed his way.

“Not now, Potter. I’m not in the mood.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” he replied coldly.

“Really? Not many people fly at two in the morning when they’re ‘fine’.”

“Oh yeah? Then what’s your excuse?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Too many nightmares about the battles.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. So what about you? What makes you so ‘fine’ that your last resort was to go flying on a dreadfully hot summer night at two in the morning?”

Draco stared at Harry for a moment, trying to get a sense of where this would lead.

“I’m only here to listen, Draco…”

“Nightmares about Lucius, alright!” Draco choked back a sob. “I gave him up, Harry. I gave up my father to three Death Eaters.” Everything started to pour out and Draco couldn’t stop it. “I let them into the Manor. I led them to the upstairs guest bedroom, I pointed to the magical door, I listened to them torture him, I listened to his screams for help and I listened to them kill my father! And I did nothing about it!” Draco was screaming at the top of his lungs. “I might as well have yelled the words myself!” He could no longer control his tears. “I killed my father. That is what has me awake at two in the bloody morning!”

All Harry could do was stare at Draco. He’d had no idea that Draco had gone through that. As Draco turned and started back towards the castle, Harry said,

“Draco, wait.”

Draco stopped, but he didn’t turn around. “Why should I, Potter? You can’t change what happened. You can’t make it so they didn’t kill Lucius that day.” Draco seemed to be on the verge of tears. “You can’t change that it was me who let them!”

“You didn’t let them, Draco.”

Draco now turned to face Harry. “I could have tried to stop them, Harry. I could have tried to save him…I could have tried something.” Draco’s hands balled themselves into fists. “Anything.”

“If you’d gone bounding in there they would have killed you, too! If you didn’t let them into the Manor they would have found another way and another day! And then Voldemort would have gone after you! Don’t you get it, Draco? There’s nothing you could have done! Voldemort was too powerful at the end of the war! If we hadn’t banned together like we did, he’d probably have killed everyone and taken over the wizarding world!” Harry pointed out more angrily than he intended; he was angry with Draco for blaming himself.

Draco was left speechless. In the back of his mind, he knew Harry was right but he couldn’t help what he felt in his heart: that he’d killed his father.

“I’m not going to pretend that I know how you feel or what this did to you but you know where to find me if you want to talk or need a shoulder to cry on… I want to be your friend, Draco. We’re not silly eleven-year-old boys anymore. Lets not act like we are.”

Draco turned and flew at top speed back to the castle before Harry could see the tears that were beginning to stream down his cheeks.

Draco burst into his sleeping quarters and tossed his robes over his armchair.

“Get it together, Malfoy! Get it to-bloody-gether!” He pulled out his journal, a dark green dragon-skin book, sat down at his desk and began to write.

--I miss Lucius. Everyone here at Hogwarts always thought that we were never close, but we were! I told Father everything. And the only reason he didn’t do the same was to protect me. When I finally had the chance to protect him, I failed. I let him down. I’m such an arse! A git! A prat! And what was with me tonight? Was I that close to exploding that I had to turn to Harry Potter, the bloody Boy Who Lived, for some sort of twisted support? I need a weekend back at the Manor. A day…3 hours even! –

Draco sighed. He had been longing to escape to the Manor’s library for weeks now. He loved the big, cold and drafty room. He’d sit a Lucius’ desk, which sat in the middle of the room and write for hours. Draco loved to be surrounded by the thousands of books that lined the walls and one of his favorite things to do when he had problems to sort through was sit in the oversized black leather armchair and stare into a blazing, crackling fire until the wee hours of the morning.

Just go talk to him, Malfoy! Said a voice at the back of his head. Oh, how he hated that voice. He shook his head. How could he? How could he go running to his childhood enemy looking for friendship and support? Get over yourself! Just get your arse out of this chair and go talk to him! What harm can it do? What’s the worst he could do? Slam the door in your face? Draco rubbed his temples trying to get rid of the menacing thoughts. He got up, put his robes back on and headed out into the castle corridors. Flying hadn’t helped him to get his mind off Lucius but maybe walking would.

As he walked through the dark hallways, Draco couldn’t help but think about what Harry had said to him on the Quidditch pitch earlier. He is right. We’re not eleven-year-old boys; this isn’t our first year here anymore. And besides, we’re colleagues now; not classmates… Draco realized he had no clue where in the castle he was. He looked around him a bit. As he turned to his left, he realized he was standing at Harry’s door.

It’s now or never, Malfoy. Just knock! You’ll regret it if you don’t!

Gathering up all his courage, Draco knocked on the door softly.
***

Harry walked into his sleeping quarters and collapsed onto his bed. He was worried about Draco. In all the years that they had known each other, Harry had never seen him like this. He’d never seen him so emotional about anything and it surprised Harry that it was Lucius who had made Draco show his vulnerability so openly. Harry sighed. As much as he wanted to help Draco, there was nothing he could do until Draco reached out to him. Feeling tired and defeated, Harry turned over and tried to fall back asleep.

Just as Harry had slipped into unconsciousness, someone knocked on his door. He groaned and, realizing he wasn’t going to sleep, he got up and answered the door.

“Draco. I-I didn’t think you’d take me up on my offer…”

“I can leave,” Draco said as he started to turn. “I just thought¯”

“No, no. Don’t be silly. Come in.”

“Are you sure? I mean, if you were sleeping I can¯”

“Draco. Shut your bloody trap and come inside. It’d be silly to have a conversation while standing in my doorway and you going back down to the dungeons would make it rather difficult.” Harry flashed Draco a quick grin as he stepped inside. Draco grinned shyly back.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked, averting Harry’s gaze.

“Which part of what I said?” Harry asked, then seeing that Draco was still standing up, added, “And you don’t have to stand. Please. Sit down.” Draco sat down at Harry’s desk.

“The part where you said you wanted to be my friend… Did you mean it?” Harry stared at him for a moment, not saying anything.

“You don’t have to say you did if you really didn’t, Potter.” Draco’s voice now had a note of panic in it in fear that he might have misunderstood Harry’s words. “But I just needed to know.”

Harry smiled. “Of course I meant it. Merlin, Draco. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” Harry sat on the edge of his bed, only half believing what he was saying. And what he was hearing. “Look. I don’t expect you to spill your guts to me or trust me at all or consider me a best friend; especially after our history but¯” Draco burst into tears. “I…I’m sorry if what I said upset you, Draco. I… I just…” Harry handed Draco a tissue. He had no idea what to say or do. “…Just wanted to reassure you that what I said was true.” Harry stood next to Draco with his hand on his shoulder, hoping he’d break the uncomfortable silence or that he’d suddenly know what to do or say to make Draco feel better.

“Why are you being so nice to me, Potter?” Draco asked when he was able to talk. “After everything that I said and did to you in school…why wouldn’t you just laugh in my face and tell me to bugger off?”

“Is that what you want me to do? Would it make you feel better if I did?” Draco glared up at Harry. Chuckling softly Harry said, “I’m just not a mean person, Draco. Even if I could bring myself to laugh at you -if you were to ask me for help- I’d feel so guilty that I’d spend days apologizing and trying to get you to open up to me again. Besides, I figure you must feel as if you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place if you turned to me at all.”

Draco sighed as he debated on whether or not he should tell Harry what was going on. His heart won out. “I do.”

“Then I’m here to listen.”

“Mind not sleeping tonight?” Harry smiled softly.

“Sleep? What’s that?”