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bottom_dracoTitle: Things Best Left Forgotten
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
uniquepov
Prompt: #007, submitted byeruditefics
Pairing: Harry/Draco, OCCs/Draco
Summary: Harry and Draco come face to face with a forgotten event from Draco’s past.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. However, I promise to return everyone, good as new, when I'm done playing with them. I own nothing that you recognize, and I do not profit from any of it.
Warnings rape (not in the main pairing), trauma, violence
Word Count: ~8800
Author’s Notes: To my giftee: I hope that this fic is what you wanted! Many thanks to my beta and proofreaders for their help, support and encouragement. It was really important to me to deal with this very sensitive subject matter in a realistic, respectful way.
***
Harry handed a thick cream-coloured envelope to Draco across the breakfast table.
“This one’s addressed to both of us,” he said, taking a sip of his tea.
Draco quirked an eyebrow and took the envelope in his slender fingers.
“It’s already open,” he complained.
“Well, I did say it was addressed to us both,” Harry protested. “I had as much right to open it as you did.”
Draco sighed and slipped the thick parchment from the envelope, unfolding it and scanning the contents quickly. Just as quickly, he replaced it in the envelope and slid it back across the breakfast table to Harry.
“I don’t think so,” he said firmly.
It was Harry’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Why not? It might be fun,” he rejoined. Draco sipped his tea silently.
“I have no reason to go back,” he said finally. “There’s no one I want to see and I can visit Hogwarts anytime.” Harry stood and came around the table to wrap his arms around Draco from behind.
“Draco, kitten… I have to go; people expect me to be there. I don’t want to spend all night without you. Please come with,” he wheedled.
“Alright,” he conceded with a sigh. “If it means that much to you, love, I’ll go.”
Harry, smiling triumphantly, returned to his tea. Draco, heading upstairs to finish getting ready for work, fought to keep his breathing steady. He didn’t understand why the school’s Memorial Evening filled him with such unease. He only knew that the last place he wanted to go was anywhere near Hogwarts or his former classmates.
***
Harry paced in front of the Floo, glancing at the mantel clock every few moments. He adjusted the tie around his neck for what felt like the hundredth time. He growled as he ran his hand through his close-cropped hair. He hated getting dressed up. His heavy black trousers were threatening to crease and his black dress shirt pinched his neck. He knew he looked good, because Draco had picked everything out, but Merlin, how he hated getting dressed up! He stalked to the doorway and shouted up the stairs.
“Draco! We’re going to be late for my speech!”
“You could go without me,” Draco called down from the bedroom. “I’ll be along once I’m ready.”
Harry counted to ten in the silence. Then, he did it again. Finally, he took several deep calming breaths and called back up the stairs. “Kitten… You are coming with me, and we are leaving in two minutes! Now, move it!”
A few minutes later, Draco descended the staircase. His shoulder-length, white-blond hair was pulled back and secured at the nape of his neck with a leather band. He wore charcoal wool trousers and a cream-coloured dress shirt with a green tie that matched the emerald cufflinks sparkling at his wrists. His dark grey dress robes were laid neatly over one arm. Harry looked at him with widened eyes, his breath hitching.
“You look… wow,” Harry stammered.
Draco smiled, preening as he adjusted the cuffs on his silk shirt. He raked a critical eye over Harry’s somewhat rumpled form. Pulling out his wand, he murmured a series of charms which pressed out the creases and Summoned a set of gold and ruby cufflinks from the mantel. He tried to put them on Harry, who waved him off impatiently.
“I spelled buttons on the shirt instead,” Harry said, showing him the cuff. “I hate those fussy things.”
Draco sighed, setting the cufflinks aside. “Do you want your Gryffindor ring, at least?” he asked, although he could not remember the last time Harry had worn the large signet ring.
“No,” Harry replied, shaking his head. He held up his left hand, where a platinum wedding band sparkled in the lamplight. “This is the only adornment I want. Besides you, of course.” Draco smiled, bringing his own left hand, wearing the mate of Harry’s ring, to press his palm to the dark-haired wizard’s.
“You’re getting soft in your old age,” Draco teased.
“Who are you calling soft, you tosser?” Harry countered with a grin, pulling Draco into his arms.
“Ponce.”
“Prat.”
Draco chuckled, pulling out of Harry’s embrace and smoothing his clothes fastidiously.
“Alright, love. Let’s go, before I change my mind,” he said fondly, taking Harry’s hand.
***
They Floo’d into a parlour near the main doors to the castle and were greeted by Professor Flitwick, looking elegant but slightly harried.
“Ah, Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy,” Flitwick exclaimed in relief. “We were beginning to worry.”
“Sorry, Professor,” Harry said with an easy smile. “I hope we haven’t held things up.”
“Not at all, my boy, not at all,” Flitwick said with a flutter. “Do go in, Professor McGonagall is waiting for you.”
With a nod to both men, Flitwick turned his attention back to the incoming Floos. Harry took Draco’s hand in his own and squeezed it lightly. Smiling, the two proceeded into the Great Hall.
***
Minerva McGonagall spotted the pair as they entered the Great Hall and bustled over to them.
“Harry. Draco. It’s wonderful to see you both. You look well,” Minerva said in her familiar brogue.
“Minerva,” Harry returned warmly.
After the three exchanged pleasantries, Minerva began to explain the programme for the evening. Since he was not on the agenda, Draco allowed his attention to wander as he stood at Harry’s side. He surveyed the room, his gaze lighting on a clutch of men standing in a corner. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he recognized one of them, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Justin met his gaze and smirked, nudging the man standing next to him. When he, too, turned to stare in Draco’s direction, he recognized Ernie Macmillan. The two men leered at him as Draco turned away, stomach clenching uneasily. He stepped closer to Harry, resting his hand on the small of the dark-haired man’s back. Harry glanced at him and smiled, wrapping his arm around the blond’s waist. Minerva smiled indulgently at them.
“Well, I had best go and check on the rest of the arrangements,” Minerva announced. “I hope we have the chance to spend some time together, later this evening.” Harry and Draco both nodded politely as Minerva took her leave.
“Can we leave yet?” Draco asked petulantly, his polite smile dissolving into a scowl as soon as Minerva had headed off into the crowd.
“You know we can’t,” Harry replied quietly, smile still firmly in place, as he nodded to people who were calling greetings to them.
“Can I sneak out once we’ve done the duty round, at least?” Draco whispered pleadingly.
“You don’t want to stay for my speech?” Harry asked in a hurt tone.
“Of course, I do,” Draco sighed. “I’m sorry, love. These things just… set me on edge.”
“I know,” Harry crooned in his ear. “But you look great, and everyone will be jealous of me with you on my arm.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Draco chuckled, as they began their circuit of the room.
***
Later, seated on the dais, Draco looked out across the assembled crowd as they picked at an overly formal meal. Ron and Hermione Weasley had snuck in quite late, looking harried, leaving only time for a brief hello and a whispered “the kids” as an explanation, before the evening’s programme was set to begin and they all had to take their seats. Draco’s gaze drifted across the sea of faces, young and old, until his gaze once again met Justin’s across the room. His spine straightened in surprise as the dark-haired wizard licked his lips and smirked at him. Draco looked away, his cheeks reddening.
Harry gave Draco’s hand a squeeze under the table as he rose to take the podium, a wave of applause washing over them. The love and pride on Draco’s face as he watched Harry acknowledge the crowd made Hermione, seated next to him on the dais, lean over to him.
“For a former Slytherin, you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve,” she whispered in his ear. Ron smirked as Draco turned to the two of them, sticking his tongue out at them behind his napkin in a stunning display of maturity.
“Sod off, you,” he replied agreeably as he turned his gaze back to Harry, his words lacking the malice they might have held in their school days. Hermione smiled in response and turned her attention to Harry as well.
“Good Evening. On behalf of the Ministry of Magic and the Board of Governors for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I would like to welcome you all here this evening,” Harry’s voice was clear and strong; his years of experience bringing him confidence and poise. “Fifteen years ago tonight, a great Battle was fought on these hallowed grounds…”
***
“For the last time, love, I think it went quite well,” Draco chuckled in exasperation as Harry attempted to begin yet another post-mortem of the evening and his speech.
“I think I lost people towards the end,” Harry sighed. “I could definitely see some fidgeting towards the back.”
“Harry, I think you’re misreading things,” Draco said gently as he loosed his tie and tugged it off. “It may be fifteen years on, but people still hurt. Revisiting the past makes them… uncomfortable.” Draco sat down heavily on the bench at the foot of their bed, unbuttoning his cuffs as he did.
“I suppose,” Harry said thoughtfully, stripping quickly out of his robes, tie and dress shirt. He sat on the side of the bed to remove his shoes, pulling them off his heel and then kicking them under the wardrobe. He flopped backwards onto the bed. “At least I won’t have to give any more speeches for a while.”
Draco smiled as he finished undressing, wrapping himself in a dressing gown and hanging his clothes neatly in the wardrobe. He waved his wand over the wardrobe before padding into the bathroom, leaving Harry’s discarded clothes and shoes to straighten themselves neatly.
When he returned, Draco shrugged out of his dressing gown, laying it neatly on the bench and shivering in the cool bedroom. Harry, propped up on one elbow to watch him, grinned and wolf-whistled at him.
Draco snorted.
Harry sat up and held out his arms. “I’d like some of that,” he said huskily, nuzzling Draco’s cheek fondly as the blond stepped into his arms.
“Would you, now?” Draco asked, winding his arms around Harry’s neck and kissing him deeply.
Harry responded eagerly, scooting to the edge of the bed to drop his hands to Draco’s arse. The blond shivered.
“Cold?” Harry asked, bringing Draco closer and cradling him against his chest.
Draco nodded, snuggling into the warmth of Harry’s embrace with a contented sigh. Harry smiled and gathered Draco up into his lap, holding him close. His smile widened as the blond snuggled closer and nuzzled his neck.
“Alright, kitten. Let me finish getting ready for bed,” he said, reluctantly twisting around to let Draco crawl onto the bed.
Instead, Draco surprised him by slipping to his knees at Harry’s feet. Looking up, he captured Harry’s surprised green gaze with his own silvery one. He reached up and unbuckled Harry’s belt, pulling it free slowly and letting it drop beside him. Harry swallowed hard as Draco unbuttoned his trousers and leaned in to pull the zip down carefully with his teeth. His hands grasped Harry’s hips to help him shimmy out of the trousers and underpants, lifting the waistband carefully over the brunet’s straining erection.
Draco licked his lips, taking his eyes from Harry’s for the first time since he’d begun helping him undress. He gently nuzzled Harry’s cock, smiling at the moan that escaped him. Draco kissed the tip and worked his way down the shaft with slow, teasing licks. Harry groaned, one hand fisting in Draco’s hair, the other pressed to the bed. Encouraged, Draco took him into his mouth and began to suck languidly.
“Oh, gods… kitten….” Harry gasped.
Draco bobbed his head gently, relaxing his throat to be able to take Harry’s cock as deeply into his mouth as possible. One hand trailed up to begin teasing Harry’s balls gently as he sucked. Harry let out another strangled gasp. He reached down to grasp Draco by the shoulders and pull him up, capturing his mouth in a bruising kiss.
“Did I do something wrong?” Draco teased with a small pout.
“You know bloody well that you’re brilliant at that,” Harry growled. “But I want to be inside you. Now.”
He pushed the blond down onto the bed and spelled a small amount of lube into his palm, slicking his throbbing erection and slipping two fingers inside Draco to prepare him. He positioned himself between the blond’s legs and hooked Draco’s knees over his shoulders. His cock prodded Draco’s entrance as he leaned down to kiss him deeply. Draco sucked his tongue into his mouth in a fierce kiss as Harry pushed into him with a groan. Draco hissed at the intrusion, struggling to keep his body relaxed until Harry was buried fully inside him.
“Harry…” Draco moaned, pushing up against him as best he could.
“Fuck, kitten. You’re so tight,” Harry gasped, rolling his hips to hit Draco’s prostate. He was rewarded by a gasping shudder from the man underneath him. Harry took that as his cue to begin pumping inside him, Draco’s body tightening around him as he did. He groaned, thrusting faster, leaning in for yet another kiss. He nipped Draco’s bottom lip gently before pulling up and reaching a hand between them to stroke Draco’s straining cock.
“I want you to come for me, kitten. Come for me while my cock is buried in your arse,” Harry panted in Draco’s ear.
Draco moaned as Harry began fisting him, moving in time with his thrusts until Draco came in a series of violent shuddering moans, his cock shooting milky-white streams across his stomach. The feeling of Draco’s tight channel convulsing around him pushed Harry over the edge and he came with a low growl, pounding hard into him. He collapsed panting on top of Draco, who groaned softly. After a moment, Harry rolled to his side, untangling Draco’s legs as he did. He pushed himself up and kissed Draco’s neck, placing a line of slow kisses down his chest. He trailed his tongue along Draco’s stomach, lapping up the streams of come before leaning up to kiss him deeply.
“That was amazing, kitten,” Harry said, gathering Draco in his arms and spooning with him. He reached for his wand and cast a Cleansing charm over them both.
Draco snuggled against him with a contented sigh as Harry pulled the quilts over them.
“Nox,” Harry whispered, extinguishing the lights. He pulled Draco flush against him as they drifted off to sleep.
***
Harry was jostled awake by Draco tossing in his sleep. Blinking sleepily, he reached for his wand and cast a Tempus charm. He groaned as he realized that it was not yet 4am. Draco whimpered in his sleep, drawing Harry’s attention. Before he could act, Draco started awake with a cry. His head swiveled wildly, breathing hard, looking near panic until his eyes met Harry’s.
“Ha-Harry…” Draco sobbed. “I’m sorry. Had a – a nightmare,” he choked out.
Harry settled back and pulled the trembling man into his arms.
“Shhhh. Shhhh…” Harry murmured, stroking his hands down Draco’s back soothingly. “It’s alright, kitten. You’re alright.”
Draco gradually calmed, his breathing slowing to normal, as Harry continued to tracing slow circles on his lower back.
“Thanks,” Draco whispered.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Harry asked quietly, holding the blond securely in his arms.
Draco shook his head.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a bad dream.”
“You sure? This doesn’t feel like nothing,” Harry murmured in his ear.
“I’m alright, love. Honestly. I’m sorry I woke you,” Draco sighed, snuggling against him.
Harry pulled the quilt up and settled it around them as he held Draco close.
“Try to get some sleep, then, kitten,” Harry whispered in his ear. Draco nodded against his chest.
Long after Harry had fallen back to sleep, his breathing deep and even in the still of the night, Draco lay cradled in his arms, staring sleepless into the darkness.
***
The next morning, Draco waved off Harry’s concerns about the circles darkening the hollows underneath his eyes.
“I just had trouble falling back to sleep,” the blond said dismissively.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Harry wanted to know.
“So that we could both be exhausted this morning?” Draco asked archly. “I felt bad enough over waking you in the first place, love.”
“Still…” Harry trailed off and frowned. “Are you going to stay home from work? Try to get some rest?”
“No,” Draco said, shaking his head. “I’ll be alright. I just need an extra cup of tea this morning, is all.”
Harry looked unconvinced, but dropped the issue. He kissed the top of Draco’s head as he stood and headed for the Floo.
“Alright, kitten, if you say so. See you tonight.”
“Tonight, then,” Draco called at Harry’s retreating back. He yawned as he turned his attention back to his tea, rubbing his eyes and sighing. He couldn’t really remember the nightmare that had woken him, but he couldn’t entirely suppress the shiver that ran down his spine as he tried to get a clearer picture of what had terrified him so completely. Casting his mind back, he sifted through his memories of the night before, but all he could glean were flashes of pain and darkness and, strangely, the sound of harsh male laughter.
Draco sighed, abandoning his efforts with the vague hope that whatever it was had worked itself out of his subconscious.
***
The next four nights passed in much the same way. Draco would wake screaming from a nightmare he could not recall. Harry, whose Legilimency skills had never really been honed, could not help him other than holding the blond close and murmuring words of comfort as his sobs subsided. The circles underneath both their eyes darkened, although Draco was in worse shape, as he could not relax enough to fall back asleep afterward.
On the fifth day, Draco called out sick to work and spent the day dozing on the sofa, waking from half-formed night terrors every time he managed to achieve a dreaming sleep. He was short-tempered and unpleasant when Harry finally came home, half an hour late.
“Where have you been?” Draco demanded as Harry stepped through the Floo.
Harry stopped short with one foot still in the fireplace and stared at Draco in surprise.
“Draco? What’s wrong?” he asked in confusion.
“You’re late!” Draco’s voice had a shrill edge that Harry knew came from sleep deprivation. He held his hands up, palms out in a gesture of surrender.
“Easy, kitten, easy. I stopped in Diagon Alley on my way home.” Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew several small vials, holding them out to Draco with a soft smile.
“What are they?” Draco asked, reaching for them cautiously.
“Your level of trust in me is overwhelming,” he complained good-naturedly, rolling his eyes. “They’re vials of Dreamless Sleep. Each bottle has two doses. I thought you could try it tonight, see if it helps you sleep though the night.”
Draco’s expression softened and his eyes grew suspiciously moist as he threw himself into Harry’s arms.
“Thank you, love,” he whispered against Harry’s chest. “Thank you so much.”
Harry wrapped his arms around the blond, rocking them both slightly where the stood.
“Why don’t we go upstairs and you can take one now?” Harry suggested. “I know it’s early, but you really haven’t been sleeping.”
Draco nodded and, taking Harry by the hand, led the way to the bedroom and his first uninterrupted night’s sleep in nearly a week.
***
Draco did not wake with nightmares that night, thanks to the potion, and woke looking far better than he had the day before. He told Harry he intended to return to work. Harry looked worried.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Harry asked. “You really should get some more rest, don’t you think?”
“I’m alright,” Draco smiled. “Thanks to you and those potions, everything will be fine.”
***
Harry sat in his office, staring unseeingly at the blank parchment in front of him. Draco was getting worse. In the past two weeks, he had managed to sleep through the night with the aid of the Dreamless Sleep potion. Harry knew that the potion had addictive properties; already Draco was unable to fall asleep without it. In addition, its effectiveness would wane with prolonged use. Just last night, Draco had woken Harry as he tossed in his sleep, murmuring “No…no…” for several moments before the potion had regained its hold on him.
Harry sighed. He knew Draco didn’t have much longer before the potion would cease to be of help at all; the nightmares would return in full force soon. Draco had flatly refused to see a Healer, when Harry had broached the subject over the breakfast table earlier.
Harry rubbed his eyes and sighed. He was afraid; there was no use pretending otherwise. In the eight years that he and Draco had been a couple, he had never known the blond to suffer from recurrent nightmares like this. Survivors of a brutal war, they both still had an occasional nightmare, but nothing this extreme.
Making up his mind, he scribbled a brief note and sent it off with a Ministry owl. There was only one other person he could think of who might have some idea what was going on with his husband.
***
Harry stepped out of the Floo, dusting the soot from his robes and glancing around the foyer. His tall, elegant mother-in-law stepped forward and embraced him warmly.
“Harry. How lovely to have you all to myself,” she teased.
“Narcissa,” Harry returned with a grin, as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.”
“Yes, well; your note said there was something wrong with Draco?” Narcissa enquired, her smile fading.
Harry nodded soberly. “I’m afraid there is. Shall we go into the library and talk?
Narcissa led the way into the library. In a few brief moments, they were ensconced before the fireplace with tea.
“Now, then,” Narcissa said mildly. “Please, tell me what is wrong with my son?”
In a few short sentences, Harry had outlined Draco’s nightmares, his Dreamless Sleep use and his refusal to seek help. Narcissa’s mouth was set in a hard line as she listened, but kept her face otherwise impassive. When Harry had finished, she set her teacup down gently, sighing as she met Harry’s worried gaze.
“You say that these nightmares began after the dinner at Hogwarts?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, that very night,” Harry confirmed with a nod.
“I see,” Narcissa replied. She stood and crossed the room to a large closed cabinet that stood tucked in a corner. Taking out her wand, she murmured a series of complex incantations, unlocking the rather impressive wards that had been placed around the object. Once the wards were lowered, she produced a key from a pocket of her robes, unlocking the cabinet and withdrawing an ornate stone bowl and several small glass vials filled with a silvery substance.
“A Pensieve?” Harry’s voice was filled with confusion. “Narcissa, what-?” Harry broke off at her pained look.
She set the Pensieve on the table and sat back down, closing her eyes briefly. Harry sat in silence, his anxiety rolling off him in palpable waves.
“Harry. You are not going to like what I am about to show you,” Narcissa murmured. “Please, watch through the entire series of memories, before you ask any questions.”
Harry, his green eyes wide with trepidation and fear, nodded. Narcissa uncorked the first vial and emptied it into the Pensieve. Harry looked at Narcissa uncertainly.
“Whose – whose memories are they?” he asked, the question plain in his eyes.
“Draco’s,” she said brokenly.
Harry met her tortured gaze, took a deep breath and bent his head into the shimmering memory.
***
Harry gasped as he landed with a thud in Draco’s memory. He looked around him quickly. Draco stood beside him, surveying the crowd gathered in the Great Hall. Harry’s breath hitched as he watched his husband’s younger self staring across the room at him, or more correctly, at his own younger self, with undisguised lust. Harry heard himself beginning a speech, and he realized that this was Draco’s memory of the five-year anniversary memorial, the first that had been formally held at Hogwarts. Harry smiled softly as he realized that this was a year or so before they started dating. He wondered how long Draco had been interested in him. The blond had certainly made him work for it, before he agreed to their first date.
Harry shook himself and followed the younger Draco out of the Great Hall and down across the grounds. His eyes widened as he stopped before Dumbledore’s tomb.
Draco bowed his head and murmured something, before placing a hand on the smooth marble.
“I’m sorry,” the blond choked out, before turning and walking swiftly towards the Black Lake.
Harry followed curiously. Draco stopped beside the lake and sank to the ground, leaning his back against a tree trunk.
“I’m so sorry,” Draco said aloud now. “Sev, I’m so sorry for everything. I miss you so much…” His voice was soft as he spoke to the memory of his godfather. Harry’s heart broke at the sorrow in his eyes, in his tone, in his entire body. Draco looked so lost and fragile, Harry wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms.
The quiet of the night was suddenly broken by harsh male laughter. As the raucous voices drew closer, Draco brought his knees to his chest and stilled, trying to remain unseen.
“Give us another swig,” called a slightly inebriated voice.
“Alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” another voice sneered. “Here you -- Malfoy!”
Draco looked up at the four men who had just come around the side of the lake. Harry’s eyes widened. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Cormac McLaggen and Dennis Creevey towered over Draco’s sitting form.
“Do you want something?” Draco asked with his best Malfoy sneer.
“You’ve got some nerve showing your face here, tonight of all nights,” Creevey growled. “Filthy Death Eater scum!”
“I don’t have to justify my actions to you,” Draco said with a scowl. McLaggen stepped closer, looming over the seated blond. Draco stood quickly, only to have Finch-Fletchley’s hand shoot out and shove him back to the ground, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Draco sputtered in anger and scrambled to his feet, wand drawn, only to be brought up short by four wands pointed at his throat.
Harry, his fists balled up at his sides, stepped between Draco and their former schoolmates. He groaned in frustration as Macmillan reached right through him and grabbed Draco’s wand, tossing it aside. He stepped to Draco’s side helplessly, stomach churning as he watched the scene unfold.
“Still walking around like you own the world, Malfoy?” Finch-Fletchley sneered. “Thinking you’re so much better than the rest of us.”
The four young men closed menacingly around Draco, who had backed himself up against the tree trunk in a defensive stance.
“I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” Draco said quietly. “We’re all survivors. All equals.” The group laughed.
“Think you’re my equal, do you?” McLaggen snarled. “I think it’s time someone showed you your place, Death Eater.” He moved even closer to the cornered blond, but before anyone else could blink, Creevey had hauled an arm back and punched Draco in the face.
“My brother is dead because of you!” he shouted, voice edged with hysteria as he hit he blond. “Colin is dead!” Draco collapsed against the tree trunk under the onslaught.
The three other men watched as Creevey pummeled Draco. He grabbed a handful of white-blond hair and yanked Draco’s head back roughly, preparing to punch him hard in the face again. Macmillan’s hand caught Creevey’s arm as he hauled back to deliver the crushing blow.
“Hold up, there, Dennis,” Macmillan spoke up quietly. “You don’t want to kill him.”
Creevey loosed his grip on Draco’s hair, blinking in confusion.
“No,” Finch-Fletchley’s voice practically dripped evil. “No, I have a much better idea.”
The others looked at him curiously. Draco, panting harshly, looked up at his four tormentors in fear and he wiped at the blood trickling from his mouth and nose.
Finch-Fletchley stepped forward, unfastening his trousers and pulling out his cock. He stroked himself a few times before grabbing hold of Draco’s hair again and yanking his head back.
“Suck it,” he snarled. Draco’s eyes were wide saucers and he pressed his lips together. Finch-Fletchley just laughed. “Think your side was the only one to use Unforgivables during the war? Crucio!
Draco’s scream was cut off as Finch-Fletchley shoved his semi-erect cock into his mouth. Tears were running down his cheeks as he closed his eyes.
Harry was screaming, tortured by the fact that he could do nothing to stop his husband being raped. He clenched his eyes shut, stomach heaving. Holding his hands over his ears did nothing to block out the choking noises Draco was making, as each of the four took their turns forcing their cocks down his throat. It was Draco’s sudden pleading that forced his eyes open again, watching in horror as the jeering men pushed him down onto all fours and stripped his trousers off.
“Please, no. Please,” Draco was begging, tears still streaming down his cheeks.
The men just laughed at him as McLaggen positioned himself behind the blond’s knees. In one swift jerk, he pulled Draco backwards, impaling him on his cock. Draco screamed in pain as McLaggen began pounding into him.
Harry turned and retched, vomiting the contents of his stomach. The violence of his reaction propelled him backwards, and suddenly he was back in the Malfoy library. Narcissa looked at him with tears in her eyes.
***
“They – they-“ Harry began retching again, but his stomach was already emptied on the carpet beside him. He drew his wand and Vanished the mess before turning his paled, shaking gaze back to his mother-in-law.
Narcissa looked sick herself, but held a hand up to stall Harry’s questions.
“You promised to watch the sequence,” she said quietly. “Please. It will be easier if you get it over with.”
She removed the first memory from the Pensieve and sent the next one swirling into the bowl. She waved her hand over the swirling silver and looked with pleading eyes at her son-in-law.
“Please, Harry.”
Harry, still fighting the urge to retch, closed his eyes and dropped into the next of Draco’s memories.
***
Harry blinked as he looked around. He was still standing by the Black Lake, but there was no sign of Draco or his four tormentors. Harry looked around wildly, desperate to spot Draco but terrified of what he’d find when he did. Suddenly, he heard a moan and turned to see the younger version of his husband struggling to his feet.
His clothes were torn and bloodied, his body covered in bruises and cuts. From the way he moved, Harry guessed he had a couple broken ribs and probably worse. He staggered to his feet, sobbing quietly to himself. Harry’s heart broke as the blond fell back to his knees and stayed down.
Draco gathered the shreds of his magic and murmured a locator spell. A soft green glow beamed out from beneath a strand of brambles. Draco crawled slowly towards it, fumbling around until his fingers finally closed around his wand. He cast a quick healing spell and struggled again to his feet.
Draco never looked back as he made his slow, painful way to the gates and the Apparition point.
***
Harry surfaced from the second memory slightly calmer. No new atrocities had been revealed, but Draco was clearly very hurt. He looked questioningly at Narcissa as she exchanged memories in the Pensieve once again.
“The next one is mine,” she said softly.
He nodded his understanding before dipping his head into the silvery memory.
***
Harry was standing in Draco’s childhood bedroom, watching as Narcissa and a worried house-elf tended Draco’s obviously fresh wounds.
“Darling, please tell me what happened,” Narcissa pleaded with her son. “Tell me who hurt you.”
Draco’s eyes were glassy as he stared straight ahead, unblinking. He gave no indication that he’d heard his mother’s request.
Narcissa sobbed again and went back to her efforts to heal her son’s broken body.
***
Harry surfaced from the third memory, his mind reeling. He closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning, only reopening them when Narcissa pushed another cup of tea into his hands. Harry stared at the older woman incredulously.
“How could he? How could Draco keep something like this from me?” his voice cracked with emotion as he asked the question, staring into the fire.
“He doesn’t remember, darling. He extracted or erased all of the memories long before the two of you became a couple,” Narcissa explained.
Harry stared at her with a mix of revulsion and disbelief.
“How could you let him do that?” Harry demanded angrily. “You know how dangerous it is to meddle with memories, dammit!”
“I had no choice!”
“You had a choice!” Harry insisted. “How could you allow Draco to purge the memories instead of dealing with this?”
“He wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating. He was slowly going mad. I had already lost Lucius to madness, in Azkaban,” Narcissa said brokenly. “What would I not have agreed to, to save Draco from the same fate?”
Harry dropped his head into his hands.
“He’s going to have to deal with it now,” he whispered. “I just hope it’s not too late.”
***
Draco looked up from his book as Harry stepped from the Floo.
“You’re back late,” he commented quietly, lifting his face for a kiss from the dark-haired wizard.
Harry’s breath caught as he saw that the circles under Draco’s eyes were beginning to darken again.
“Sorry, kitten. I lost track of time,” Harry said quietly as he dropped onto the sofa.
“Well, you missed dinner, but I kept a plate warm for you,” Draco said, marking his place in his book and standing to bring Harry his meal.
Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him gently down into his lap.
“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry,” Harry said, cuddling the blond closely to his chest.
Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, sensing his mood. He nuzzled his face against Harry’s jaw.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked quietly.
Harry’s arms tightened around him. “Just a long day, kitten, that’s all,” he replied. “Let’s go to bed.”
Draco stood, taking Harry’s hand and heading for the bedroom with a smile.
Harry hesitated in the doorway as Draco sat on the bench at the foot of the bed and began undressing. He looked up with a questioning glance. Harry swallowed thickly.
“I think – I think I need a shower first,” he said finally, padding into the bathroom. He cast an unobtrusive Silencing charm around him, hoping Draco wouldn’t notice. He stripped, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor as he turned on the shower and stepped into the hot spray. He leaned his head against the cool tiles and bit back a sob.
Draco – his Draco – had been raped. Not by Death Eaters, or even strangers, but by classmates, people they had known. And at Hogwarts, which was supposed to be safe.
Harry couldn’t tell how much of the water streaming down his face was from the shower, and how much was from the tears he could no longer hold back. His stomach rebelled again and he stumbled out of the shower to vomit into the toilet. He dropped to his knees, still sobbing, his body retching.
When his stomach was emptied once again, he collapsed onto the cold tile floor, sobbing out his heartbreak.
***
Draco undressed and climbed into bed. Harry rarely took very long in the shower – at least not when he was showering alone. He snuggled under the blankets, shivering at the chill of the sheets against his naked body. He heard the shower turn on, the muted sound oddly soothing. He reached for the half-empty vial of Dreamless Sleep and drank it down. Only a few moments later, sleep claimed him for its own.
Harry pulled himself together and climbed back into the now-cold shower. Grabbing his wand, he warmed the shower spray and then removed all physical evidence of his tears. He scrubbed himself hard, unable to feel completely clean after the scenes he’d witnessed in the Pensieve. When the shower grew cold a second time, he turned off the taps and dried himself with a wave of his wand.
Stepping back into the bedroom, his heart melted at the sight of Draco, his head pillowed on his hand, eyes closed in sleep. He nearly began crying again at the thought of his beautiful husband, lying broken and bloodied in the grass by the Black Lake. He climbed into bed beside him and ran his hand gently, almost reverently, over his pale skin.
Harry settled back against the sheets, Draco cradled protectively in his arms. He closed his eyes, but images of what he’d seen in the Pensieve continued to haunt him. He was still awake when the potion lost its hold on Draco, who began to toss and turn in a tormented version of slumber.
“Please… no…” Draco was begging in his sleep. The sound had been difficult enough for Harry to deal with when it was a faceless nightmare, but now that he knew what Draco’s subconscious was reliving, it was nearly unbearable. His arms tightened around the blond, holding him close. Draco eventually calmed and slipped back into sleep, but Harry remained awake long after the first grey light of the morning began to chase away the night’s darkness.
***
Draco awoke with the feeling of Harry’s arms wrapped possessively around him. He smiled as he tried to stretch one muscle at a time, trying not to wake his husband. A soft chuckle alerted him to the fact that Harry was, in fact, already awake.
“Good morning, love,” Draco said as he opened his eyes to meet Harry’s green gaze. His smile faded as he took in his husband’s expression, as well as the darkening circles under his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Harry kissed him in response. It began as a soft, gentle kiss, but it quickly deepened into something far more passionate and demanding. As they broke apart, Draco blinked, looking a little dazed.
“Well, I’m not sure if that was supposed to be a ‘Good morning’ or a complaint about my technique,” Draco teased him quietly.
“It was most definitely not a complaint,” Harry rejoined with a chuckle. “I just wanted to remind you how much I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Draco responded fondly. He sobered as he asked in concern, “Didn’t you sleep, love?”
Harry shook his head. “No, I didn’t.” His arms tightened their hold on the blond. “Kitten… I think we need to talk about your nightmares.”
Draco stiffened at Harry’s words.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said petulantly. “I’m sleeping just fine with the potion.”
“You’re not,” Harry contradicted. “The potion is already starting to wane. You’re tossing and turning in your sleep every night.”
“I’m sorry I disturbed you,” Draco said, tossing his head angrily. “Perhaps I ought to sleep in another room until–“
Harry’s voice cut across him firmly.
”You will do no such thing, kitten.” Draco fell silent, Harry’s pet name calming him as nothing else could. Harry continued, “This is about you, not me. The potion’s effectiveness is beginning to wane. If you keep taking it, you could become addicted to it.”
“I know.” Draco’s response was barely above a whisper.
“We have to do something,” Harry said quietly. “We have to confront what’s causing your nightmares, once and for all.”
Draco was silent for a long moment.
“I’m afraid,” he finally confessed. “I’m afraid of what I might find.”
Harry nodded in response. “I know,” he said softly. “But I’ll help you. You don’t have to face it alone.” He cradled Draco closely in his arms as he spoke.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Draco sighed. “I’ve been over and over things in my mind, I don’t understand the nightmares; I can barely even remember them.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you can remember of them?” Harry suggested.
Draco’s brow furrowed in thought.
“They’re just… flashes, really. Darkness. Pain. A feeling of choking…” Draco trailed off uncertainly.
Harry nodded encouragingly. “That’s a start. Anything else?”
“Laughter,” Draco whispered. “I hear laughter.”
Harry’s arms tightened around the blond instinctively, but he managed to keep his voice calm. “What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know,” Draco admitted. “It’s something that I can’t quite remember… whenever I get close to it, it slips away again.”
Harry took a deep breath before replying.
“I might have the answer,” he said slowly. Draco twisted in his arms to look at him curiously as he continued, “I… I went to see your mother last night.”
“My mother?” Draco asked in confusion. “What does my mother have to do with this?”
“You wouldn’t talk about the nightmares! I was afraid something was…” Harry trailed off and took a deep breath. “I went to her for help, kitten,” he admitted. “I was afraid something might really be wrong with you.”
“Did you find it helpful?” Draco sighed, a note of sarcasm in his voice.
“I – I found it surprising,” Harry admitted. “I was not prepared for what your mother shared with me.”
Draco’s silvery gaze deepened to a dark pewter as he considered Harry’s words, fear and confusion playing across his features.
“What was that?” he finally asked. Harry replied slowly, choosing his words carefully.
“She told me that… something horrific had happened to you, after the war was over, but that you had extracted the memories so that you could move on.”
“What?” Draco pushed away from Harry, staring at him in shock.
“She showed me… some of your memories… in a Pensieve,” Harry continued. “I… I think, based on what little you can remember from your nightmares, that they must be related, somehow, to what happened to you.”
“She showed you my memories,” Draco repeated blankly.
Harry nodded slowly. “Your mother told me that you wanted to destroy them, but that she put the memories in one of her vaults because she was afraid you would need them again.”
“Harry…” Draco’s voice was tight with emotion, although his face had, so far, remained impassive. “What –“ his voice cracked and he cleared his throat before continuing, “what happened to me?”
Harry looked at Draco for a long moment. Draco’s breath hitched as Harry turned his face away, blinking back tears.
A cold knot of dread and fear settled at the bottom of Draco’s stomach, but he rolled smoothly out of bed in his best nonchalant manner.
“Well... I think I need a cup of tea before I face my boggart, eh?” Draco shrugged into his dressing gown.
Harry, sighing, followed him down to the kitchen.
***
After several fortifying cups of tea, Draco agreed to view the Pensieve memories. Harry decided on the library as the spot most likely to put Draco at ease. He brought out his Pensieve and placed the three memory vials on the table next to him.
“Ready?” he smiled encouragingly at the blond, who shrugged noncommittally.
“As I’ll ever be,” he whispered.
“Do you want me to watch with you?” Harry asked quietly, taking one of Draco’s hands in his own.
“I – don’t think so,” Draco shook his head. “I know you’ve already seen them. It’s very disconcerting to think that you know what happened to me and I don’t.”
Harry nodded. “I understand.” He uncorked the first vial and emptied it into the Pensieve.
Draco took a deep breath, squeezed Harry’s hand and dipped his head down into the silvery liquid.
Harry sat at Draco’s side, still holding his hand, waiting for the blond to resurface from his memory.
***
After what seemed like an eternity, Draco emerged, pale and shaking. Harry moved to embrace him, but Draco jerked away almost violently.
“Don’t. Touch. Me,” Draco said with icy calm. “Just – let me see the rest.”
Harry nodded, re-corking the first memory and pouring the second into the Pensieve.
“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” he told Draco softly. “Or right now. It’s a lot to deal with, all at once.”
Draco stared at him.
“I need to know all of it,” he said firmly, before taking another deep breath and submerging himself in the next memory.
***
When Draco resurfaced from the second memory, he turned his head and was sick all over the carpet. Harry reached for him gently, only for Draco to again pull away sharply in fear. Harry’s heart broke at the reaction, but he held himself back from reaching for him again. He removed the second memory from the Pensieve and replaced it with the third before speaking.
“This memory is your mother’s,” he said quietly.
Draco gave no indication that he’d heard him as he plunged himself into the final memory.
Harry sighed, pulling out his wand and Vanishing all traces of Draco’s having been sick.
***
Draco emerged from Narcissa’s memory and immediately curled into a ball on the sofa. He refused to respond to Harry’s questions and ignored a similarly gentle touch to his arm.
“Draco… kitten,” Harry finally said quietly. “Come on, love. You need a lie-down. I’ll help you to the bedroom.” He reached out for Draco gingerly.
The blond did not respond to him, but he did allow Harry to scoop him into his arms and carry him down the hall to the bedroom.
Harry pulled back the blankets and deposited Draco gently on the bed. Draco immediately curled himself into a ball again, pulling the covers over his head. Harry reached for him, but he jerked away violently.
“Just – leave me alone,” he choked out. “Please, please… leave me alone.”
Harry sat helplessly down on the bench at the foot of the bed, watching Draco’s anguished form quivering under the blankets. After a few moments, the blond began crying; deep, tortured sobs that wracked his body and left him gasping for breath. Harry cast a silencing charm around himself when he could no longer hold back his own tears. He sat at the end of the bed, ready to take the blond in his arms at a moment’s notice, watching over Draco through one of the longest nights of their lives.
Draco finally cried himself to sleep, tossing fitfully. Harry sat at the foot of the bed, standing sentinel against the night, hovering protectively over the sleeping blond. His heart ached for the devastation his husband must have been feeling and he was determined to support him and help him heal, any way that he could.
***
Harry’s eyes fluttered open as he groaned, rubbing at the crick in the back of his neck from falling asleep sitting up. His green gaze finally focused on Draco, sitting up in bed, holding a pillow in his lap and glaring furiously at him.
“Draco… kitten….” Harry began, but the blond held up a hand to forestall anything further.
“How could you?” Draco asked with icy calm.
“How could I what?” Harry asked in confusion. Draco gestured towards the hall and the library with a sweep of his arm.
“How could you make me relive that? Why couldn’t you leave it alone? I’d been successful in forgetting the entire incident and moving on. Why did you have to drag it up again?” he demanded angrily.
Harry blinked in confusion. “I- your nightmares-“ he stammered uncertainly.
“The nightmares I was having are NOTHING compared to having to watch those memories! You saw them! You knew what was in them!” Draco’s voice cracked, and his composure crumpled as he sobbed, “How could you make me go through that again, Harry? How could you?”
Harry thought his chest might split in two. His heart ached so badly from seeing Draco in such pain. He stood and crossed to the blond, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed beside him. He held his arms out to him, but Draco sat unmoving, wiping ineffectually at his tears.
“Kitten, please… I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’ll do. I love you,” Harry said, as he eased himself further onto the bed and closer to his husband. He patted Draco’s knee gently. Encouraged when Draco did not pull away from his touch, Harry climbed all the way onto the bed and gathered the blond man in his arms. Draco stiffened and tried to push away from him, but Harry held him firmly and began to rock them gently, one hand rubbing his back soothingly as he crooned softly, “It’s alright, kitten. You’re alright. I won’t let anyone hurt you like that ever again. I promise…”
As they rocked gently back and forth, Draco finally relaxed into Harry’s arms, his head dropping onto the dark-haired man’s shoulder as he sobbed, crying again for the loss of what little innocence he’d had left after the war.
***
Draco cried himself to sleep again, cradled in Harry’s arms.
Harry held him, whispering “I love you” over and over until his eyelids fluttered open once more.
“Hey, you,” Harry said gently as the blond woke. “How’re you feeling?”
Draco groaned.
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” he admitted slowly. “As though everything that happened to me happened last week, instead of all those years ago.”
“I can only imagine,” Harry said sympathetically. “Why don’t you have a bath? A bit of a soak might help.”
Draco nodded. “I think I will,” he agreed. He stood and padded towards the bathroom.
Harry leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes with a sigh. He could hear the water running as Draco filled his bath. Once the sound of the taps had quieted, he rolled out of bed and went into the library. He opened a bottle of Draco’s favourite wine and, after pouring two glasses, knocked gently at the bathroom door before pushing his way in.
Draco was laying with his head resting on the lip of the bath, eyes closed.
“What do you want?” he asked softly.
“I brought you this,” Harry said, holding out one of the glasses.
Draco cracked open one eye and, seeing the glass, sat up straighter and reached for it.
“Thank you,” Draco said, taking a long sip.
Harry nodded in reply as he leaned against the counter.
“What do we do now?” Harry said after a moment’s silence.
“Well, I am going to drink my wine and lie here until even a warming charm won’t keep this water hot,” Draco replied as he leaned back against the bath once more.
Harry chuckled softly. “That’s not what I meant, kitten,” he chastised.
“I know,” Draco said with a sigh. “But for right now, it’s the only answer I have.”
***
For the next few days, Draco kept silent about the Pensieve memories. After that first awful night and a tearful conversation with Narcissa, Draco had forgiven both of them, but Harry was hesitant to bring it up again without Draco initiating the conversation.
His heart broke anew ever time he saw the anguish in his husband’s eyes.
“Kitten,” he said, deciding he could no longer stay quiet after yet another silent meal, “we have to talk about this.”
Draco put down his tea with a sigh. Rising to his feet, he crossed around to Harry and settled into his lap.
“I just… have to work through it on my own,” he whispered, nuzzling Harry’s neck as the dark-haired man’s arms wrapped around him instinctively. “Please, love. Don’t rush me. Someday, maybe, we can talk about it, but not now. Not yet.”
Harry sighed as he pressed a kiss to his husband’s temple. All he could think about was how to help him heal; how best to protect Draco and still punish the men responsible. The inaction was driving him to distraction, but in the end, he knew that what really mattered now was what Draco wanted. He’d had enough choices taken from him already.
“Alright, kitten… when you’re ready,” Harry promised. “I’ll be right here.”
Author:
uniquepov Prompt: #007, submitted by
eruditeficsPairing: Harry/Draco, OCCs/Draco
Summary: Harry and Draco come face to face with a forgotten event from Draco’s past.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. However, I promise to return everyone, good as new, when I'm done playing with them. I own nothing that you recognize, and I do not profit from any of it.
Warnings rape (not in the main pairing), trauma, violence
Word Count: ~8800
Author’s Notes: To my giftee: I hope that this fic is what you wanted! Many thanks to my beta and proofreaders for their help, support and encouragement. It was really important to me to deal with this very sensitive subject matter in a realistic, respectful way.
Harry handed a thick cream-coloured envelope to Draco across the breakfast table.
“This one’s addressed to both of us,” he said, taking a sip of his tea.
Draco quirked an eyebrow and took the envelope in his slender fingers.
“It’s already open,” he complained.
“Well, I did say it was addressed to us both,” Harry protested. “I had as much right to open it as you did.”
Draco sighed and slipped the thick parchment from the envelope, unfolding it and scanning the contents quickly. Just as quickly, he replaced it in the envelope and slid it back across the breakfast table to Harry.
“I don’t think so,” he said firmly.
It was Harry’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Why not? It might be fun,” he rejoined. Draco sipped his tea silently.
“I have no reason to go back,” he said finally. “There’s no one I want to see and I can visit Hogwarts anytime.” Harry stood and came around the table to wrap his arms around Draco from behind.
“Draco, kitten… I have to go; people expect me to be there. I don’t want to spend all night without you. Please come with,” he wheedled.
“Alright,” he conceded with a sigh. “If it means that much to you, love, I’ll go.”
Harry, smiling triumphantly, returned to his tea. Draco, heading upstairs to finish getting ready for work, fought to keep his breathing steady. He didn’t understand why the school’s Memorial Evening filled him with such unease. He only knew that the last place he wanted to go was anywhere near Hogwarts or his former classmates.
Harry paced in front of the Floo, glancing at the mantel clock every few moments. He adjusted the tie around his neck for what felt like the hundredth time. He growled as he ran his hand through his close-cropped hair. He hated getting dressed up. His heavy black trousers were threatening to crease and his black dress shirt pinched his neck. He knew he looked good, because Draco had picked everything out, but Merlin, how he hated getting dressed up! He stalked to the doorway and shouted up the stairs.
“Draco! We’re going to be late for my speech!”
“You could go without me,” Draco called down from the bedroom. “I’ll be along once I’m ready.”
Harry counted to ten in the silence. Then, he did it again. Finally, he took several deep calming breaths and called back up the stairs. “Kitten… You are coming with me, and we are leaving in two minutes! Now, move it!”
A few minutes later, Draco descended the staircase. His shoulder-length, white-blond hair was pulled back and secured at the nape of his neck with a leather band. He wore charcoal wool trousers and a cream-coloured dress shirt with a green tie that matched the emerald cufflinks sparkling at his wrists. His dark grey dress robes were laid neatly over one arm. Harry looked at him with widened eyes, his breath hitching.
“You look… wow,” Harry stammered.
Draco smiled, preening as he adjusted the cuffs on his silk shirt. He raked a critical eye over Harry’s somewhat rumpled form. Pulling out his wand, he murmured a series of charms which pressed out the creases and Summoned a set of gold and ruby cufflinks from the mantel. He tried to put them on Harry, who waved him off impatiently.
“I spelled buttons on the shirt instead,” Harry said, showing him the cuff. “I hate those fussy things.”
Draco sighed, setting the cufflinks aside. “Do you want your Gryffindor ring, at least?” he asked, although he could not remember the last time Harry had worn the large signet ring.
“No,” Harry replied, shaking his head. He held up his left hand, where a platinum wedding band sparkled in the lamplight. “This is the only adornment I want. Besides you, of course.” Draco smiled, bringing his own left hand, wearing the mate of Harry’s ring, to press his palm to the dark-haired wizard’s.
“You’re getting soft in your old age,” Draco teased.
“Who are you calling soft, you tosser?” Harry countered with a grin, pulling Draco into his arms.
“Ponce.”
“Prat.”
Draco chuckled, pulling out of Harry’s embrace and smoothing his clothes fastidiously.
“Alright, love. Let’s go, before I change my mind,” he said fondly, taking Harry’s hand.
They Floo’d into a parlour near the main doors to the castle and were greeted by Professor Flitwick, looking elegant but slightly harried.
“Ah, Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy,” Flitwick exclaimed in relief. “We were beginning to worry.”
“Sorry, Professor,” Harry said with an easy smile. “I hope we haven’t held things up.”
“Not at all, my boy, not at all,” Flitwick said with a flutter. “Do go in, Professor McGonagall is waiting for you.”
With a nod to both men, Flitwick turned his attention back to the incoming Floos. Harry took Draco’s hand in his own and squeezed it lightly. Smiling, the two proceeded into the Great Hall.
Minerva McGonagall spotted the pair as they entered the Great Hall and bustled over to them.
“Harry. Draco. It’s wonderful to see you both. You look well,” Minerva said in her familiar brogue.
“Minerva,” Harry returned warmly.
After the three exchanged pleasantries, Minerva began to explain the programme for the evening. Since he was not on the agenda, Draco allowed his attention to wander as he stood at Harry’s side. He surveyed the room, his gaze lighting on a clutch of men standing in a corner. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he recognized one of them, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Justin met his gaze and smirked, nudging the man standing next to him. When he, too, turned to stare in Draco’s direction, he recognized Ernie Macmillan. The two men leered at him as Draco turned away, stomach clenching uneasily. He stepped closer to Harry, resting his hand on the small of the dark-haired man’s back. Harry glanced at him and smiled, wrapping his arm around the blond’s waist. Minerva smiled indulgently at them.
“Well, I had best go and check on the rest of the arrangements,” Minerva announced. “I hope we have the chance to spend some time together, later this evening.” Harry and Draco both nodded politely as Minerva took her leave.
“Can we leave yet?” Draco asked petulantly, his polite smile dissolving into a scowl as soon as Minerva had headed off into the crowd.
“You know we can’t,” Harry replied quietly, smile still firmly in place, as he nodded to people who were calling greetings to them.
“Can I sneak out once we’ve done the duty round, at least?” Draco whispered pleadingly.
“You don’t want to stay for my speech?” Harry asked in a hurt tone.
“Of course, I do,” Draco sighed. “I’m sorry, love. These things just… set me on edge.”
“I know,” Harry crooned in his ear. “But you look great, and everyone will be jealous of me with you on my arm.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Draco chuckled, as they began their circuit of the room.
Later, seated on the dais, Draco looked out across the assembled crowd as they picked at an overly formal meal. Ron and Hermione Weasley had snuck in quite late, looking harried, leaving only time for a brief hello and a whispered “the kids” as an explanation, before the evening’s programme was set to begin and they all had to take their seats. Draco’s gaze drifted across the sea of faces, young and old, until his gaze once again met Justin’s across the room. His spine straightened in surprise as the dark-haired wizard licked his lips and smirked at him. Draco looked away, his cheeks reddening.
Harry gave Draco’s hand a squeeze under the table as he rose to take the podium, a wave of applause washing over them. The love and pride on Draco’s face as he watched Harry acknowledge the crowd made Hermione, seated next to him on the dais, lean over to him.
“For a former Slytherin, you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve,” she whispered in his ear. Ron smirked as Draco turned to the two of them, sticking his tongue out at them behind his napkin in a stunning display of maturity.
“Sod off, you,” he replied agreeably as he turned his gaze back to Harry, his words lacking the malice they might have held in their school days. Hermione smiled in response and turned her attention to Harry as well.
“Good Evening. On behalf of the Ministry of Magic and the Board of Governors for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I would like to welcome you all here this evening,” Harry’s voice was clear and strong; his years of experience bringing him confidence and poise. “Fifteen years ago tonight, a great Battle was fought on these hallowed grounds…”
“For the last time, love, I think it went quite well,” Draco chuckled in exasperation as Harry attempted to begin yet another post-mortem of the evening and his speech.
“I think I lost people towards the end,” Harry sighed. “I could definitely see some fidgeting towards the back.”
“Harry, I think you’re misreading things,” Draco said gently as he loosed his tie and tugged it off. “It may be fifteen years on, but people still hurt. Revisiting the past makes them… uncomfortable.” Draco sat down heavily on the bench at the foot of their bed, unbuttoning his cuffs as he did.
“I suppose,” Harry said thoughtfully, stripping quickly out of his robes, tie and dress shirt. He sat on the side of the bed to remove his shoes, pulling them off his heel and then kicking them under the wardrobe. He flopped backwards onto the bed. “At least I won’t have to give any more speeches for a while.”
Draco smiled as he finished undressing, wrapping himself in a dressing gown and hanging his clothes neatly in the wardrobe. He waved his wand over the wardrobe before padding into the bathroom, leaving Harry’s discarded clothes and shoes to straighten themselves neatly.
When he returned, Draco shrugged out of his dressing gown, laying it neatly on the bench and shivering in the cool bedroom. Harry, propped up on one elbow to watch him, grinned and wolf-whistled at him.
Draco snorted.
Harry sat up and held out his arms. “I’d like some of that,” he said huskily, nuzzling Draco’s cheek fondly as the blond stepped into his arms.
“Would you, now?” Draco asked, winding his arms around Harry’s neck and kissing him deeply.
Harry responded eagerly, scooting to the edge of the bed to drop his hands to Draco’s arse. The blond shivered.
“Cold?” Harry asked, bringing Draco closer and cradling him against his chest.
Draco nodded, snuggling into the warmth of Harry’s embrace with a contented sigh. Harry smiled and gathered Draco up into his lap, holding him close. His smile widened as the blond snuggled closer and nuzzled his neck.
“Alright, kitten. Let me finish getting ready for bed,” he said, reluctantly twisting around to let Draco crawl onto the bed.
Instead, Draco surprised him by slipping to his knees at Harry’s feet. Looking up, he captured Harry’s surprised green gaze with his own silvery one. He reached up and unbuckled Harry’s belt, pulling it free slowly and letting it drop beside him. Harry swallowed hard as Draco unbuttoned his trousers and leaned in to pull the zip down carefully with his teeth. His hands grasped Harry’s hips to help him shimmy out of the trousers and underpants, lifting the waistband carefully over the brunet’s straining erection.
Draco licked his lips, taking his eyes from Harry’s for the first time since he’d begun helping him undress. He gently nuzzled Harry’s cock, smiling at the moan that escaped him. Draco kissed the tip and worked his way down the shaft with slow, teasing licks. Harry groaned, one hand fisting in Draco’s hair, the other pressed to the bed. Encouraged, Draco took him into his mouth and began to suck languidly.
“Oh, gods… kitten….” Harry gasped.
Draco bobbed his head gently, relaxing his throat to be able to take Harry’s cock as deeply into his mouth as possible. One hand trailed up to begin teasing Harry’s balls gently as he sucked. Harry let out another strangled gasp. He reached down to grasp Draco by the shoulders and pull him up, capturing his mouth in a bruising kiss.
“Did I do something wrong?” Draco teased with a small pout.
“You know bloody well that you’re brilliant at that,” Harry growled. “But I want to be inside you. Now.”
He pushed the blond down onto the bed and spelled a small amount of lube into his palm, slicking his throbbing erection and slipping two fingers inside Draco to prepare him. He positioned himself between the blond’s legs and hooked Draco’s knees over his shoulders. His cock prodded Draco’s entrance as he leaned down to kiss him deeply. Draco sucked his tongue into his mouth in a fierce kiss as Harry pushed into him with a groan. Draco hissed at the intrusion, struggling to keep his body relaxed until Harry was buried fully inside him.
“Harry…” Draco moaned, pushing up against him as best he could.
“Fuck, kitten. You’re so tight,” Harry gasped, rolling his hips to hit Draco’s prostate. He was rewarded by a gasping shudder from the man underneath him. Harry took that as his cue to begin pumping inside him, Draco’s body tightening around him as he did. He groaned, thrusting faster, leaning in for yet another kiss. He nipped Draco’s bottom lip gently before pulling up and reaching a hand between them to stroke Draco’s straining cock.
“I want you to come for me, kitten. Come for me while my cock is buried in your arse,” Harry panted in Draco’s ear.
Draco moaned as Harry began fisting him, moving in time with his thrusts until Draco came in a series of violent shuddering moans, his cock shooting milky-white streams across his stomach. The feeling of Draco’s tight channel convulsing around him pushed Harry over the edge and he came with a low growl, pounding hard into him. He collapsed panting on top of Draco, who groaned softly. After a moment, Harry rolled to his side, untangling Draco’s legs as he did. He pushed himself up and kissed Draco’s neck, placing a line of slow kisses down his chest. He trailed his tongue along Draco’s stomach, lapping up the streams of come before leaning up to kiss him deeply.
“That was amazing, kitten,” Harry said, gathering Draco in his arms and spooning with him. He reached for his wand and cast a Cleansing charm over them both.
Draco snuggled against him with a contented sigh as Harry pulled the quilts over them.
“Nox,” Harry whispered, extinguishing the lights. He pulled Draco flush against him as they drifted off to sleep.
Harry was jostled awake by Draco tossing in his sleep. Blinking sleepily, he reached for his wand and cast a Tempus charm. He groaned as he realized that it was not yet 4am. Draco whimpered in his sleep, drawing Harry’s attention. Before he could act, Draco started awake with a cry. His head swiveled wildly, breathing hard, looking near panic until his eyes met Harry’s.
“Ha-Harry…” Draco sobbed. “I’m sorry. Had a – a nightmare,” he choked out.
Harry settled back and pulled the trembling man into his arms.
“Shhhh. Shhhh…” Harry murmured, stroking his hands down Draco’s back soothingly. “It’s alright, kitten. You’re alright.”
Draco gradually calmed, his breathing slowing to normal, as Harry continued to tracing slow circles on his lower back.
“Thanks,” Draco whispered.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Harry asked quietly, holding the blond securely in his arms.
Draco shook his head.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a bad dream.”
“You sure? This doesn’t feel like nothing,” Harry murmured in his ear.
“I’m alright, love. Honestly. I’m sorry I woke you,” Draco sighed, snuggling against him.
Harry pulled the quilt up and settled it around them as he held Draco close.
“Try to get some sleep, then, kitten,” Harry whispered in his ear. Draco nodded against his chest.
Long after Harry had fallen back to sleep, his breathing deep and even in the still of the night, Draco lay cradled in his arms, staring sleepless into the darkness.
The next morning, Draco waved off Harry’s concerns about the circles darkening the hollows underneath his eyes.
“I just had trouble falling back to sleep,” the blond said dismissively.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Harry wanted to know.
“So that we could both be exhausted this morning?” Draco asked archly. “I felt bad enough over waking you in the first place, love.”
“Still…” Harry trailed off and frowned. “Are you going to stay home from work? Try to get some rest?”
“No,” Draco said, shaking his head. “I’ll be alright. I just need an extra cup of tea this morning, is all.”
Harry looked unconvinced, but dropped the issue. He kissed the top of Draco’s head as he stood and headed for the Floo.
“Alright, kitten, if you say so. See you tonight.”
“Tonight, then,” Draco called at Harry’s retreating back. He yawned as he turned his attention back to his tea, rubbing his eyes and sighing. He couldn’t really remember the nightmare that had woken him, but he couldn’t entirely suppress the shiver that ran down his spine as he tried to get a clearer picture of what had terrified him so completely. Casting his mind back, he sifted through his memories of the night before, but all he could glean were flashes of pain and darkness and, strangely, the sound of harsh male laughter.
Draco sighed, abandoning his efforts with the vague hope that whatever it was had worked itself out of his subconscious.
The next four nights passed in much the same way. Draco would wake screaming from a nightmare he could not recall. Harry, whose Legilimency skills had never really been honed, could not help him other than holding the blond close and murmuring words of comfort as his sobs subsided. The circles underneath both their eyes darkened, although Draco was in worse shape, as he could not relax enough to fall back asleep afterward.
On the fifth day, Draco called out sick to work and spent the day dozing on the sofa, waking from half-formed night terrors every time he managed to achieve a dreaming sleep. He was short-tempered and unpleasant when Harry finally came home, half an hour late.
“Where have you been?” Draco demanded as Harry stepped through the Floo.
Harry stopped short with one foot still in the fireplace and stared at Draco in surprise.
“Draco? What’s wrong?” he asked in confusion.
“You’re late!” Draco’s voice had a shrill edge that Harry knew came from sleep deprivation. He held his hands up, palms out in a gesture of surrender.
“Easy, kitten, easy. I stopped in Diagon Alley on my way home.” Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew several small vials, holding them out to Draco with a soft smile.
“What are they?” Draco asked, reaching for them cautiously.
“Your level of trust in me is overwhelming,” he complained good-naturedly, rolling his eyes. “They’re vials of Dreamless Sleep. Each bottle has two doses. I thought you could try it tonight, see if it helps you sleep though the night.”
Draco’s expression softened and his eyes grew suspiciously moist as he threw himself into Harry’s arms.
“Thank you, love,” he whispered against Harry’s chest. “Thank you so much.”
Harry wrapped his arms around the blond, rocking them both slightly where the stood.
“Why don’t we go upstairs and you can take one now?” Harry suggested. “I know it’s early, but you really haven’t been sleeping.”
Draco nodded and, taking Harry by the hand, led the way to the bedroom and his first uninterrupted night’s sleep in nearly a week.
Draco did not wake with nightmares that night, thanks to the potion, and woke looking far better than he had the day before. He told Harry he intended to return to work. Harry looked worried.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Harry asked. “You really should get some more rest, don’t you think?”
“I’m alright,” Draco smiled. “Thanks to you and those potions, everything will be fine.”
Harry sat in his office, staring unseeingly at the blank parchment in front of him. Draco was getting worse. In the past two weeks, he had managed to sleep through the night with the aid of the Dreamless Sleep potion. Harry knew that the potion had addictive properties; already Draco was unable to fall asleep without it. In addition, its effectiveness would wane with prolonged use. Just last night, Draco had woken Harry as he tossed in his sleep, murmuring “No…no…” for several moments before the potion had regained its hold on him.
Harry sighed. He knew Draco didn’t have much longer before the potion would cease to be of help at all; the nightmares would return in full force soon. Draco had flatly refused to see a Healer, when Harry had broached the subject over the breakfast table earlier.
Harry rubbed his eyes and sighed. He was afraid; there was no use pretending otherwise. In the eight years that he and Draco had been a couple, he had never known the blond to suffer from recurrent nightmares like this. Survivors of a brutal war, they both still had an occasional nightmare, but nothing this extreme.
Making up his mind, he scribbled a brief note and sent it off with a Ministry owl. There was only one other person he could think of who might have some idea what was going on with his husband.
Harry stepped out of the Floo, dusting the soot from his robes and glancing around the foyer. His tall, elegant mother-in-law stepped forward and embraced him warmly.
“Harry. How lovely to have you all to myself,” she teased.
“Narcissa,” Harry returned with a grin, as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.”
“Yes, well; your note said there was something wrong with Draco?” Narcissa enquired, her smile fading.
Harry nodded soberly. “I’m afraid there is. Shall we go into the library and talk?
Narcissa led the way into the library. In a few brief moments, they were ensconced before the fireplace with tea.
“Now, then,” Narcissa said mildly. “Please, tell me what is wrong with my son?”
In a few short sentences, Harry had outlined Draco’s nightmares, his Dreamless Sleep use and his refusal to seek help. Narcissa’s mouth was set in a hard line as she listened, but kept her face otherwise impassive. When Harry had finished, she set her teacup down gently, sighing as she met Harry’s worried gaze.
“You say that these nightmares began after the dinner at Hogwarts?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, that very night,” Harry confirmed with a nod.
“I see,” Narcissa replied. She stood and crossed the room to a large closed cabinet that stood tucked in a corner. Taking out her wand, she murmured a series of complex incantations, unlocking the rather impressive wards that had been placed around the object. Once the wards were lowered, she produced a key from a pocket of her robes, unlocking the cabinet and withdrawing an ornate stone bowl and several small glass vials filled with a silvery substance.
“A Pensieve?” Harry’s voice was filled with confusion. “Narcissa, what-?” Harry broke off at her pained look.
She set the Pensieve on the table and sat back down, closing her eyes briefly. Harry sat in silence, his anxiety rolling off him in palpable waves.
“Harry. You are not going to like what I am about to show you,” Narcissa murmured. “Please, watch through the entire series of memories, before you ask any questions.”
Harry, his green eyes wide with trepidation and fear, nodded. Narcissa uncorked the first vial and emptied it into the Pensieve. Harry looked at Narcissa uncertainly.
“Whose – whose memories are they?” he asked, the question plain in his eyes.
“Draco’s,” she said brokenly.
Harry met her tortured gaze, took a deep breath and bent his head into the shimmering memory.
Harry gasped as he landed with a thud in Draco’s memory. He looked around him quickly. Draco stood beside him, surveying the crowd gathered in the Great Hall. Harry’s breath hitched as he watched his husband’s younger self staring across the room at him, or more correctly, at his own younger self, with undisguised lust. Harry heard himself beginning a speech, and he realized that this was Draco’s memory of the five-year anniversary memorial, the first that had been formally held at Hogwarts. Harry smiled softly as he realized that this was a year or so before they started dating. He wondered how long Draco had been interested in him. The blond had certainly made him work for it, before he agreed to their first date.
Harry shook himself and followed the younger Draco out of the Great Hall and down across the grounds. His eyes widened as he stopped before Dumbledore’s tomb.
Draco bowed his head and murmured something, before placing a hand on the smooth marble.
“I’m sorry,” the blond choked out, before turning and walking swiftly towards the Black Lake.
Harry followed curiously. Draco stopped beside the lake and sank to the ground, leaning his back against a tree trunk.
“I’m so sorry,” Draco said aloud now. “Sev, I’m so sorry for everything. I miss you so much…” His voice was soft as he spoke to the memory of his godfather. Harry’s heart broke at the sorrow in his eyes, in his tone, in his entire body. Draco looked so lost and fragile, Harry wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms.
The quiet of the night was suddenly broken by harsh male laughter. As the raucous voices drew closer, Draco brought his knees to his chest and stilled, trying to remain unseen.
“Give us another swig,” called a slightly inebriated voice.
“Alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” another voice sneered. “Here you -- Malfoy!”
Draco looked up at the four men who had just come around the side of the lake. Harry’s eyes widened. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Cormac McLaggen and Dennis Creevey towered over Draco’s sitting form.
“Do you want something?” Draco asked with his best Malfoy sneer.
“You’ve got some nerve showing your face here, tonight of all nights,” Creevey growled. “Filthy Death Eater scum!”
“I don’t have to justify my actions to you,” Draco said with a scowl. McLaggen stepped closer, looming over the seated blond. Draco stood quickly, only to have Finch-Fletchley’s hand shoot out and shove him back to the ground, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Draco sputtered in anger and scrambled to his feet, wand drawn, only to be brought up short by four wands pointed at his throat.
Harry, his fists balled up at his sides, stepped between Draco and their former schoolmates. He groaned in frustration as Macmillan reached right through him and grabbed Draco’s wand, tossing it aside. He stepped to Draco’s side helplessly, stomach churning as he watched the scene unfold.
“Still walking around like you own the world, Malfoy?” Finch-Fletchley sneered. “Thinking you’re so much better than the rest of us.”
The four young men closed menacingly around Draco, who had backed himself up against the tree trunk in a defensive stance.
“I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” Draco said quietly. “We’re all survivors. All equals.” The group laughed.
“Think you’re my equal, do you?” McLaggen snarled. “I think it’s time someone showed you your place, Death Eater.” He moved even closer to the cornered blond, but before anyone else could blink, Creevey had hauled an arm back and punched Draco in the face.
“My brother is dead because of you!” he shouted, voice edged with hysteria as he hit he blond. “Colin is dead!” Draco collapsed against the tree trunk under the onslaught.
The three other men watched as Creevey pummeled Draco. He grabbed a handful of white-blond hair and yanked Draco’s head back roughly, preparing to punch him hard in the face again. Macmillan’s hand caught Creevey’s arm as he hauled back to deliver the crushing blow.
“Hold up, there, Dennis,” Macmillan spoke up quietly. “You don’t want to kill him.”
Creevey loosed his grip on Draco’s hair, blinking in confusion.
“No,” Finch-Fletchley’s voice practically dripped evil. “No, I have a much better idea.”
The others looked at him curiously. Draco, panting harshly, looked up at his four tormentors in fear and he wiped at the blood trickling from his mouth and nose.
Finch-Fletchley stepped forward, unfastening his trousers and pulling out his cock. He stroked himself a few times before grabbing hold of Draco’s hair again and yanking his head back.
“Suck it,” he snarled. Draco’s eyes were wide saucers and he pressed his lips together. Finch-Fletchley just laughed. “Think your side was the only one to use Unforgivables during the war? Crucio!
Draco’s scream was cut off as Finch-Fletchley shoved his semi-erect cock into his mouth. Tears were running down his cheeks as he closed his eyes.
Harry was screaming, tortured by the fact that he could do nothing to stop his husband being raped. He clenched his eyes shut, stomach heaving. Holding his hands over his ears did nothing to block out the choking noises Draco was making, as each of the four took their turns forcing their cocks down his throat. It was Draco’s sudden pleading that forced his eyes open again, watching in horror as the jeering men pushed him down onto all fours and stripped his trousers off.
“Please, no. Please,” Draco was begging, tears still streaming down his cheeks.
The men just laughed at him as McLaggen positioned himself behind the blond’s knees. In one swift jerk, he pulled Draco backwards, impaling him on his cock. Draco screamed in pain as McLaggen began pounding into him.
Harry turned and retched, vomiting the contents of his stomach. The violence of his reaction propelled him backwards, and suddenly he was back in the Malfoy library. Narcissa looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“They – they-“ Harry began retching again, but his stomach was already emptied on the carpet beside him. He drew his wand and Vanished the mess before turning his paled, shaking gaze back to his mother-in-law.
Narcissa looked sick herself, but held a hand up to stall Harry’s questions.
“You promised to watch the sequence,” she said quietly. “Please. It will be easier if you get it over with.”
She removed the first memory from the Pensieve and sent the next one swirling into the bowl. She waved her hand over the swirling silver and looked with pleading eyes at her son-in-law.
“Please, Harry.”
Harry, still fighting the urge to retch, closed his eyes and dropped into the next of Draco’s memories.
Harry blinked as he looked around. He was still standing by the Black Lake, but there was no sign of Draco or his four tormentors. Harry looked around wildly, desperate to spot Draco but terrified of what he’d find when he did. Suddenly, he heard a moan and turned to see the younger version of his husband struggling to his feet.
His clothes were torn and bloodied, his body covered in bruises and cuts. From the way he moved, Harry guessed he had a couple broken ribs and probably worse. He staggered to his feet, sobbing quietly to himself. Harry’s heart broke as the blond fell back to his knees and stayed down.
Draco gathered the shreds of his magic and murmured a locator spell. A soft green glow beamed out from beneath a strand of brambles. Draco crawled slowly towards it, fumbling around until his fingers finally closed around his wand. He cast a quick healing spell and struggled again to his feet.
Draco never looked back as he made his slow, painful way to the gates and the Apparition point.
Harry surfaced from the second memory slightly calmer. No new atrocities had been revealed, but Draco was clearly very hurt. He looked questioningly at Narcissa as she exchanged memories in the Pensieve once again.
“The next one is mine,” she said softly.
He nodded his understanding before dipping his head into the silvery memory.
Harry was standing in Draco’s childhood bedroom, watching as Narcissa and a worried house-elf tended Draco’s obviously fresh wounds.
“Darling, please tell me what happened,” Narcissa pleaded with her son. “Tell me who hurt you.”
Draco’s eyes were glassy as he stared straight ahead, unblinking. He gave no indication that he’d heard his mother’s request.
Narcissa sobbed again and went back to her efforts to heal her son’s broken body.
Harry surfaced from the third memory, his mind reeling. He closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning, only reopening them when Narcissa pushed another cup of tea into his hands. Harry stared at the older woman incredulously.
“How could he? How could Draco keep something like this from me?” his voice cracked with emotion as he asked the question, staring into the fire.
“He doesn’t remember, darling. He extracted or erased all of the memories long before the two of you became a couple,” Narcissa explained.
Harry stared at her with a mix of revulsion and disbelief.
“How could you let him do that?” Harry demanded angrily. “You know how dangerous it is to meddle with memories, dammit!”
“I had no choice!”
“You had a choice!” Harry insisted. “How could you allow Draco to purge the memories instead of dealing with this?”
“He wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating. He was slowly going mad. I had already lost Lucius to madness, in Azkaban,” Narcissa said brokenly. “What would I not have agreed to, to save Draco from the same fate?”
Harry dropped his head into his hands.
“He’s going to have to deal with it now,” he whispered. “I just hope it’s not too late.”
Draco looked up from his book as Harry stepped from the Floo.
“You’re back late,” he commented quietly, lifting his face for a kiss from the dark-haired wizard.
Harry’s breath caught as he saw that the circles under Draco’s eyes were beginning to darken again.
“Sorry, kitten. I lost track of time,” Harry said quietly as he dropped onto the sofa.
“Well, you missed dinner, but I kept a plate warm for you,” Draco said, marking his place in his book and standing to bring Harry his meal.
Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him gently down into his lap.
“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry,” Harry said, cuddling the blond closely to his chest.
Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, sensing his mood. He nuzzled his face against Harry’s jaw.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked quietly.
Harry’s arms tightened around him. “Just a long day, kitten, that’s all,” he replied. “Let’s go to bed.”
Draco stood, taking Harry’s hand and heading for the bedroom with a smile.
Harry hesitated in the doorway as Draco sat on the bench at the foot of the bed and began undressing. He looked up with a questioning glance. Harry swallowed thickly.
“I think – I think I need a shower first,” he said finally, padding into the bathroom. He cast an unobtrusive Silencing charm around him, hoping Draco wouldn’t notice. He stripped, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor as he turned on the shower and stepped into the hot spray. He leaned his head against the cool tiles and bit back a sob.
Draco – his Draco – had been raped. Not by Death Eaters, or even strangers, but by classmates, people they had known. And at Hogwarts, which was supposed to be safe.
Harry couldn’t tell how much of the water streaming down his face was from the shower, and how much was from the tears he could no longer hold back. His stomach rebelled again and he stumbled out of the shower to vomit into the toilet. He dropped to his knees, still sobbing, his body retching.
When his stomach was emptied once again, he collapsed onto the cold tile floor, sobbing out his heartbreak.
Draco undressed and climbed into bed. Harry rarely took very long in the shower – at least not when he was showering alone. He snuggled under the blankets, shivering at the chill of the sheets against his naked body. He heard the shower turn on, the muted sound oddly soothing. He reached for the half-empty vial of Dreamless Sleep and drank it down. Only a few moments later, sleep claimed him for its own.
Harry pulled himself together and climbed back into the now-cold shower. Grabbing his wand, he warmed the shower spray and then removed all physical evidence of his tears. He scrubbed himself hard, unable to feel completely clean after the scenes he’d witnessed in the Pensieve. When the shower grew cold a second time, he turned off the taps and dried himself with a wave of his wand.
Stepping back into the bedroom, his heart melted at the sight of Draco, his head pillowed on his hand, eyes closed in sleep. He nearly began crying again at the thought of his beautiful husband, lying broken and bloodied in the grass by the Black Lake. He climbed into bed beside him and ran his hand gently, almost reverently, over his pale skin.
Harry settled back against the sheets, Draco cradled protectively in his arms. He closed his eyes, but images of what he’d seen in the Pensieve continued to haunt him. He was still awake when the potion lost its hold on Draco, who began to toss and turn in a tormented version of slumber.
“Please… no…” Draco was begging in his sleep. The sound had been difficult enough for Harry to deal with when it was a faceless nightmare, but now that he knew what Draco’s subconscious was reliving, it was nearly unbearable. His arms tightened around the blond, holding him close. Draco eventually calmed and slipped back into sleep, but Harry remained awake long after the first grey light of the morning began to chase away the night’s darkness.
Draco awoke with the feeling of Harry’s arms wrapped possessively around him. He smiled as he tried to stretch one muscle at a time, trying not to wake his husband. A soft chuckle alerted him to the fact that Harry was, in fact, already awake.
“Good morning, love,” Draco said as he opened his eyes to meet Harry’s green gaze. His smile faded as he took in his husband’s expression, as well as the darkening circles under his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Harry kissed him in response. It began as a soft, gentle kiss, but it quickly deepened into something far more passionate and demanding. As they broke apart, Draco blinked, looking a little dazed.
“Well, I’m not sure if that was supposed to be a ‘Good morning’ or a complaint about my technique,” Draco teased him quietly.
“It was most definitely not a complaint,” Harry rejoined with a chuckle. “I just wanted to remind you how much I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Draco responded fondly. He sobered as he asked in concern, “Didn’t you sleep, love?”
Harry shook his head. “No, I didn’t.” His arms tightened their hold on the blond. “Kitten… I think we need to talk about your nightmares.”
Draco stiffened at Harry’s words.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said petulantly. “I’m sleeping just fine with the potion.”
“You’re not,” Harry contradicted. “The potion is already starting to wane. You’re tossing and turning in your sleep every night.”
“I’m sorry I disturbed you,” Draco said, tossing his head angrily. “Perhaps I ought to sleep in another room until–“
Harry’s voice cut across him firmly.
”You will do no such thing, kitten.” Draco fell silent, Harry’s pet name calming him as nothing else could. Harry continued, “This is about you, not me. The potion’s effectiveness is beginning to wane. If you keep taking it, you could become addicted to it.”
“I know.” Draco’s response was barely above a whisper.
“We have to do something,” Harry said quietly. “We have to confront what’s causing your nightmares, once and for all.”
Draco was silent for a long moment.
“I’m afraid,” he finally confessed. “I’m afraid of what I might find.”
Harry nodded in response. “I know,” he said softly. “But I’ll help you. You don’t have to face it alone.” He cradled Draco closely in his arms as he spoke.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Draco sighed. “I’ve been over and over things in my mind, I don’t understand the nightmares; I can barely even remember them.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you can remember of them?” Harry suggested.
Draco’s brow furrowed in thought.
“They’re just… flashes, really. Darkness. Pain. A feeling of choking…” Draco trailed off uncertainly.
Harry nodded encouragingly. “That’s a start. Anything else?”
“Laughter,” Draco whispered. “I hear laughter.”
Harry’s arms tightened around the blond instinctively, but he managed to keep his voice calm. “What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know,” Draco admitted. “It’s something that I can’t quite remember… whenever I get close to it, it slips away again.”
Harry took a deep breath before replying.
“I might have the answer,” he said slowly. Draco twisted in his arms to look at him curiously as he continued, “I… I went to see your mother last night.”
“My mother?” Draco asked in confusion. “What does my mother have to do with this?”
“You wouldn’t talk about the nightmares! I was afraid something was…” Harry trailed off and took a deep breath. “I went to her for help, kitten,” he admitted. “I was afraid something might really be wrong with you.”
“Did you find it helpful?” Draco sighed, a note of sarcasm in his voice.
“I – I found it surprising,” Harry admitted. “I was not prepared for what your mother shared with me.”
Draco’s silvery gaze deepened to a dark pewter as he considered Harry’s words, fear and confusion playing across his features.
“What was that?” he finally asked. Harry replied slowly, choosing his words carefully.
“She told me that… something horrific had happened to you, after the war was over, but that you had extracted the memories so that you could move on.”
“What?” Draco pushed away from Harry, staring at him in shock.
“She showed me… some of your memories… in a Pensieve,” Harry continued. “I… I think, based on what little you can remember from your nightmares, that they must be related, somehow, to what happened to you.”
“She showed you my memories,” Draco repeated blankly.
Harry nodded slowly. “Your mother told me that you wanted to destroy them, but that she put the memories in one of her vaults because she was afraid you would need them again.”
“Harry…” Draco’s voice was tight with emotion, although his face had, so far, remained impassive. “What –“ his voice cracked and he cleared his throat before continuing, “what happened to me?”
Harry looked at Draco for a long moment. Draco’s breath hitched as Harry turned his face away, blinking back tears.
A cold knot of dread and fear settled at the bottom of Draco’s stomach, but he rolled smoothly out of bed in his best nonchalant manner.
“Well... I think I need a cup of tea before I face my boggart, eh?” Draco shrugged into his dressing gown.
Harry, sighing, followed him down to the kitchen.
After several fortifying cups of tea, Draco agreed to view the Pensieve memories. Harry decided on the library as the spot most likely to put Draco at ease. He brought out his Pensieve and placed the three memory vials on the table next to him.
“Ready?” he smiled encouragingly at the blond, who shrugged noncommittally.
“As I’ll ever be,” he whispered.
“Do you want me to watch with you?” Harry asked quietly, taking one of Draco’s hands in his own.
“I – don’t think so,” Draco shook his head. “I know you’ve already seen them. It’s very disconcerting to think that you know what happened to me and I don’t.”
Harry nodded. “I understand.” He uncorked the first vial and emptied it into the Pensieve.
Draco took a deep breath, squeezed Harry’s hand and dipped his head down into the silvery liquid.
Harry sat at Draco’s side, still holding his hand, waiting for the blond to resurface from his memory.
After what seemed like an eternity, Draco emerged, pale and shaking. Harry moved to embrace him, but Draco jerked away almost violently.
“Don’t. Touch. Me,” Draco said with icy calm. “Just – let me see the rest.”
Harry nodded, re-corking the first memory and pouring the second into the Pensieve.
“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” he told Draco softly. “Or right now. It’s a lot to deal with, all at once.”
Draco stared at him.
“I need to know all of it,” he said firmly, before taking another deep breath and submerging himself in the next memory.
When Draco resurfaced from the second memory, he turned his head and was sick all over the carpet. Harry reached for him gently, only for Draco to again pull away sharply in fear. Harry’s heart broke at the reaction, but he held himself back from reaching for him again. He removed the second memory from the Pensieve and replaced it with the third before speaking.
“This memory is your mother’s,” he said quietly.
Draco gave no indication that he’d heard him as he plunged himself into the final memory.
Harry sighed, pulling out his wand and Vanishing all traces of Draco’s having been sick.
Draco emerged from Narcissa’s memory and immediately curled into a ball on the sofa. He refused to respond to Harry’s questions and ignored a similarly gentle touch to his arm.
“Draco… kitten,” Harry finally said quietly. “Come on, love. You need a lie-down. I’ll help you to the bedroom.” He reached out for Draco gingerly.
The blond did not respond to him, but he did allow Harry to scoop him into his arms and carry him down the hall to the bedroom.
Harry pulled back the blankets and deposited Draco gently on the bed. Draco immediately curled himself into a ball again, pulling the covers over his head. Harry reached for him, but he jerked away violently.
“Just – leave me alone,” he choked out. “Please, please… leave me alone.”
Harry sat helplessly down on the bench at the foot of the bed, watching Draco’s anguished form quivering under the blankets. After a few moments, the blond began crying; deep, tortured sobs that wracked his body and left him gasping for breath. Harry cast a silencing charm around himself when he could no longer hold back his own tears. He sat at the end of the bed, ready to take the blond in his arms at a moment’s notice, watching over Draco through one of the longest nights of their lives.
Draco finally cried himself to sleep, tossing fitfully. Harry sat at the foot of the bed, standing sentinel against the night, hovering protectively over the sleeping blond. His heart ached for the devastation his husband must have been feeling and he was determined to support him and help him heal, any way that he could.
Harry’s eyes fluttered open as he groaned, rubbing at the crick in the back of his neck from falling asleep sitting up. His green gaze finally focused on Draco, sitting up in bed, holding a pillow in his lap and glaring furiously at him.
“Draco… kitten….” Harry began, but the blond held up a hand to forestall anything further.
“How could you?” Draco asked with icy calm.
“How could I what?” Harry asked in confusion. Draco gestured towards the hall and the library with a sweep of his arm.
“How could you make me relive that? Why couldn’t you leave it alone? I’d been successful in forgetting the entire incident and moving on. Why did you have to drag it up again?” he demanded angrily.
Harry blinked in confusion. “I- your nightmares-“ he stammered uncertainly.
“The nightmares I was having are NOTHING compared to having to watch those memories! You saw them! You knew what was in them!” Draco’s voice cracked, and his composure crumpled as he sobbed, “How could you make me go through that again, Harry? How could you?”
Harry thought his chest might split in two. His heart ached so badly from seeing Draco in such pain. He stood and crossed to the blond, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed beside him. He held his arms out to him, but Draco sat unmoving, wiping ineffectually at his tears.
“Kitten, please… I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’ll do. I love you,” Harry said, as he eased himself further onto the bed and closer to his husband. He patted Draco’s knee gently. Encouraged when Draco did not pull away from his touch, Harry climbed all the way onto the bed and gathered the blond man in his arms. Draco stiffened and tried to push away from him, but Harry held him firmly and began to rock them gently, one hand rubbing his back soothingly as he crooned softly, “It’s alright, kitten. You’re alright. I won’t let anyone hurt you like that ever again. I promise…”
As they rocked gently back and forth, Draco finally relaxed into Harry’s arms, his head dropping onto the dark-haired man’s shoulder as he sobbed, crying again for the loss of what little innocence he’d had left after the war.
Draco cried himself to sleep again, cradled in Harry’s arms.
Harry held him, whispering “I love you” over and over until his eyelids fluttered open once more.
“Hey, you,” Harry said gently as the blond woke. “How’re you feeling?”
Draco groaned.
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” he admitted slowly. “As though everything that happened to me happened last week, instead of all those years ago.”
“I can only imagine,” Harry said sympathetically. “Why don’t you have a bath? A bit of a soak might help.”
Draco nodded. “I think I will,” he agreed. He stood and padded towards the bathroom.
Harry leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes with a sigh. He could hear the water running as Draco filled his bath. Once the sound of the taps had quieted, he rolled out of bed and went into the library. He opened a bottle of Draco’s favourite wine and, after pouring two glasses, knocked gently at the bathroom door before pushing his way in.
Draco was laying with his head resting on the lip of the bath, eyes closed.
“What do you want?” he asked softly.
“I brought you this,” Harry said, holding out one of the glasses.
Draco cracked open one eye and, seeing the glass, sat up straighter and reached for it.
“Thank you,” Draco said, taking a long sip.
Harry nodded in reply as he leaned against the counter.
“What do we do now?” Harry said after a moment’s silence.
“Well, I am going to drink my wine and lie here until even a warming charm won’t keep this water hot,” Draco replied as he leaned back against the bath once more.
Harry chuckled softly. “That’s not what I meant, kitten,” he chastised.
“I know,” Draco said with a sigh. “But for right now, it’s the only answer I have.”
For the next few days, Draco kept silent about the Pensieve memories. After that first awful night and a tearful conversation with Narcissa, Draco had forgiven both of them, but Harry was hesitant to bring it up again without Draco initiating the conversation.
His heart broke anew ever time he saw the anguish in his husband’s eyes.
“Kitten,” he said, deciding he could no longer stay quiet after yet another silent meal, “we have to talk about this.”
Draco put down his tea with a sigh. Rising to his feet, he crossed around to Harry and settled into his lap.
“I just… have to work through it on my own,” he whispered, nuzzling Harry’s neck as the dark-haired man’s arms wrapped around him instinctively. “Please, love. Don’t rush me. Someday, maybe, we can talk about it, but not now. Not yet.”
Harry sighed as he pressed a kiss to his husband’s temple. All he could think about was how to help him heal; how best to protect Draco and still punish the men responsible. The inaction was driving him to distraction, but in the end, he knew that what really mattered now was what Draco wanted. He’d had enough choices taken from him already.
“Alright, kitten… when you’re ready,” Harry promised. “I’ll be right here.”
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Date: 2010-12-16 12:27 am (UTC)