None Of Us Were Angels

I awaken when I notice that he’s gone. The other side of the bed is slightly warm, it could have been me keeping it so, but I doubt it. He hasn’t gotten too far. This happens at least once every other week. These are the days that I hope will never come, but do quite often.

I throw on my pants and shirt that were on the floor, slip into my trainers, no time for socks. I grab my coat and shrug it on as I lock the door wandlessly and run down the steps into the street. A faint tinge of orange and pink is starting to come over the horizon.

Where could he have gone to? Probably the café down the street, they have excellent pastries, but always brew the coffee a little bit too weak, but he likes it that way, it’s the only shop open at this hour, it’s usually where he ends up, I decide to check there first and my instincts pay off, even if I’m mentally rambling in my worry. He’s sitting at a table near the window front of the store; head in hands, mug of steaming liquid near his left elbow. Little does he know that he’s mussing his hair even more than it usually is. I open the door and slide into the chair opposite.

“I knew you’d find me as soon as I got out of bed.” Harry mumbles, still hiding behind his hands.

“How was I supposed to sleep without you curled up around me? The bed gets too cold.”
I respond, snagging the mug and taking a slip while I sweep a stray lock of silvery blond hair from my eyes.

“Draco, you’re such a drama queen, but that’s why I love you.”

“You know it. Now, are you going to tell me what happened, or am I going to have to sit here and drink more of this shitty coffee?”

“I saw them all, in my dream. I saw my parents, and Cedric, and Dumbledore, and all the rest of the innocents and Order members that were killed. And then I saw all the people I killed: the Lestrange brothers, Nott and Wormtail. Then Voldemort himself was there telling me that I was as bad as he was and that I should be killed the same way as he was…and…and…” tears are pouring down his face, glistening with guilt. He puts his head into his hands on the table as sobs rack his petit frame. I’m at his side in less than half an instant, on one knee, rubbing his back, trying to comfort him with words and touches.

“There, there baby…there, there darling…Harry, Harry love, look at me.” I say, and he lifts his tear streaked visage to meet my eyes. “Thank you.” I kiss him chastely as a reward. “Listen to me. None of us were angels. We did what we had to do. There wasn’t anything you could do to save anyone. There wasn’t anything we could do to change it. It’s okay by me; it was a long time ago. I’ve been slowly watching you winding down for years; you can’t keep on like this.” I wipe some tears off his cheek with my sleeve before I continue. “Let sleeping dogs lie. You know I love you yeah?”

“Yeah…” he snuffles, and smiles weakly.

“I know you think I don’t understand, and I don’t, but I want you to feel like you can tell me anything and everything. I want to help you solve these fears. I want to be here for you no matter what.” I kiss the back of his hand. “I mean look at me, I’m not even wearing socks!” I try to make him laugh, and he gives a small chortle. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“At the moment, all I want to do is go back to bed and snuggle up with you. You don’t have to take all this crap from me, yet you do. And you’re right, it was a long time ago.” He finishes in a near silent whisper. “You know I love you too, yeah?”

“Of course I do. Now I’m going to get up because my knees are killing me.” He giggles again, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes and face.

“Oi!” I call out to the barista, Sandra, who knows us well enough that she lets us alone whenever one of these episodes pass. “Put the coffee on our tab alright?”

We leave, and wake the block back to our flat, I have my arm around his waist, his head on my shoulder and holding my other hand. We climb the few stairs into the building, and into the elevator up to the penthouse that looks over London. I kick off my shoes and throw my coat into the closet, not caring where it landed. I stumble into the bedroom and fall back into bed, a once again calm Harry at my side the entire time. He curls into a fetal position and I wrap my body around him. I yawn widely and kiss the back of his neck before I drift into a land without pain, and where sleeping dogs are always left to lie.

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A/N: Thanks to Ruinithil for the beta and challenge of: Use the song 'Speeding Cars' by Imogen Heap as inspiration. Tell me what you think!