After Draco had not been at dinner, Scarlett had had a rather unexpected visitor. Appearing in her suite, Tippy, Draco's most personal elf, had relayed a message from her husband. He'd had an exhausting day, which was not so unusual; but what had caught her attention, even in the emotionless tone of the elf, was the suggestion in the remainder of
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"Scarlett?" Harry called out, rapping on the open doorway between bathroom and bedroom. It was the merest nod to politeness as he did not break his stride. "Draco?" he asked in his loudest not-a-shout, reaching the bed and shaking his shoulder. He looked past the unconscious man to his wife. He couldn't help but see that even now, she was beautiful. And in great distress. Draco's kiss of the night before popped into his mind with a new layer of disbelief attached, and he shoved it right back out again. "What happened?" he asked, moderating his tone.
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"Draco's a terrible sleeper...he wouldn't sleep like this unless something was wrong. I called for Tippy and Draco told her to fetch you if he was having a nightmare."
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"No, Mr Potter, Sir, Tippy has never seen this. Master Draco is very easy to wake..."
Scarlett nodded, looking from the elf as she stopped talking, back to Harry. "I've never seen this either," her breath quickening, she spoke again, "What's happening? I don't understand any of this!"
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She couldn't help but wonder, even as her mind whirled, just what it was that Draco had told the other man about her.
"I don't believe it's a potion, though I can't be sure. He has never been like this, not once, not even when we were first married and life was so much more difficult." She shook her head, walking closer to Draco and rest her hand on his head, feeling the nothingness that came from him. "And yesterday he was trapped in a waking nightmare, a delusion if you will, and Harry snapped him out of it. It would be too coincidental..."
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Snape obviously had several questions on the tip of his tongue, but Harry wanted to give him a complete answer first. "And at least when he first went to sleep, he had taken no Dreamless Sleep and did not plan to. He was afraid of being trapped in delusions, though, so we arranged that Tippy would check on him periodically and Floo for me if he seemed to be having nightmares." He frowned and looked down at Draco. Not nightmares exactly, but he certainly looked unhappy
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He sighed and settled his robes. "But you are right, madam. It would be quite a coincidence for the cause to be other than something related to the curse. It was well within Bellatrix's twisted logic to potentially destroy her entire family line. But please do not be too hysterical yet." Not that Mrs. Malfoy looked at all hysterical. "It is possible he is suffering sympathetic effects, and not the curse itself. Much like if one witnesses someone vomiting and then experiences nausea. The book..." He longed to hold it in his hands, to page through it! "May hold the answers."
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( ... )
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Her mind blank, Scarlett had picked up what had been requested, sparing a quick wish that it did indeed help, and rushed back.
Arriving at the bedroom, she could see Harry and the Professor poring over the text. "I have it," she annouced as soon as she entered. She went over to them, showing them both the small sample.
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She opened Draco's mouth, her fingers trembling on his skin as she did. She placed the measured amount on his tongue and rubbed the spoon over his teeth and gums, hoping both would take effect quite quickly.
"Is that right, Professor?" she asked nervously, wanting to do all she could.
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He read on, wondering if Potter were absorbing any of it at all, or if his mind were elsewhere. The set of eyes it might have been most helpful to have looking over the text with him, of course, was closed in cursed slumber. Bloody hell.
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He wondered, though, whether he should take a turn at talking to Draco. ... time enough for that if she tired.
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Her throat tight and her eyes stinging, she looked back over at Harry and Severus, hoping for distraction. "Is there anything useful?" she asked, not wanting to be a bother, but wanting to be as involved as she could, "Is there anything I can do? Beauxbaton's and my parents home in Belgium have some rather obscure texts...?" she offered. Her hand was tight around Draco's, trying to let him know that she was here, that she wasn't planning on leaving him alone with this curse.
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Dismissing Snape from his mind, he perched on the side of the bed. He knew Draco had some kind of attraction to him. He knew they'd forged a friendship in, really, a surprisingly short amount of time considering... all their past. Was that enough? Which of them had to care, and how, for this to work? Surely if friendship, caring, were enough, Scarlett's kiss would have worked.
He frowned, then gingerly ran his fingertips through Draco's hair to cup the back of his head. His face was so still. Not restful. Just... still. Harry wanted very much for that to change. He wanted Draco safe and well. He realised it went far beyond 'saving people'. He wanted Draco to be safe and well. And despite the uncomfortable consequences if this were to work, he would do his best to see that he was.
( ... )
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( ... )
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"I'll be back," he promised Snape as he left--and Draco, if he could hear it. He called Tippy and asked her to lead him to Scarlett. The elf took him to a closed door. Harry made sure he was in no way rumpled, and knocked several times, softly.
"Scarlett?" Presumptuous indeed. He was sure he was demoted to "Mr. Potter" at absolute best.
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"Is he awake?" she asked dully. "Did true loves kiss work?" She refused to look at him, instead she stared at her reflection in the mirror, contemplating whether she could face a few weeks at home with her parents; parents who had warned her what seemed a hundred years ago that no good would come of her marrying a Malfoy. They were right, but in the last way she or they had ever expected.
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