HP: Alliances 4
It was late at night when the soft voice came through the darkness. Harry had been lying in bed; considering his day. He was trying to make a list of "pros" the list was short. It consisted of the facts that Draco was alive, he and Blaise were okay, and that he'd pretty much told Dumbledore to fuck off. There endeth the list. He could hear the soft breathing from the other bed and wanted so badly to go and watch Draco but he wasn't sure how deep of a sleeper the boy was after his dad beat him into a coma.
"Harry?" Draco whispered unsure if the dark boy was awake.
Suddenly Harry was so pleased he hadn't gone over to watch his love. "I'm awake."
He heard shuffling and then Draco was standing above him. Harry's eyes dilated at the moon light suddenly in his eyes as Draco pulled the curtain back. "This is fucking ridiculous. I have this psychosis, you see, ever since I've woken up I've had what they call hysterical coldness flashes. I'm not running a temperature but I'm really cold and I can't make myself believe that I'm not. They weren't sure whether I hit my head some way that's made it happen or if I just fear being alone. . . Merlin, this is embarrassing. The only way I can warm up is to be close to someone. I know that this is really weird but-"
Harry moved over and held up the duvet, "It's not weird; we used to share a bed all the time."
Draco stood still, "We did?"
"You'd be here late and you'd just end up staying over as opposed to sneaking through the castle and possibly being caught by Filch, groundskeeper, an evil man who enjoys tormenting students." Harry was speaking the truth he had just carefully omitted the reason why Draco was there in the first place, because they'd been shagging for hours.
"So we were good friends?" asked Draco as he shut the curtain behind himself and came to rest at Harry's side. They were both on their backs looking at the canopy.
"Friends? No. There was a war and we were on the same side so we grew close. We were partners and we had each other's backs but we weren't friends. Too different I guess." He heard Draco's teeth chattering and he used it as an excuse to pull the blond close. Draco put the top of his head against Harry's chest and sniffed. "Are you okay?"
Draco looked up, away from the direction of their feet and smiled slightly. "I woke up with pneumonia from pulmonary. . . I can't remember, something to do with fluids in my lungs. The only potion they had for it left me with an incurable muggle cold, it's un-catching to others and "has to run its course." It's a pain. I told them to use a Dreeda potion but they didn't pay attention to coma-boy."
Harry smiled. Of course Draco would have thought of the one potion that would easily cured him. He was always so proud of his clever lover, "I'll make you something for it in the morning."
"No potion can cure it," Draco said darkly.
"No, but soup is always good." Harry smiled, "Go to sleep."
After a long time of laying still Draco placed his ear near to Harry's mouth. He felt the slow deep breaths and asked softly, "Harry?"
"Em?" came the noncommittal reply from the sleeping boy.
"How long have we been together?"
"Year and a half. Why, Co?" came the soft answer it was clear that Harry was very much asleep. Harry's arms tightened around Draco's waist.
"Just thinking. . . You love me?" Harry's eyes shot open and Draco knew he was screwed.
"Get the fuck out of my bed." Harry pulled his arms from around Draco's waist. "You earwig on my private conversations and make up fictional sickness to get into my bed to embarrass me? Fuck you. It amazes me how you can get beaten into a coma, wake up without a memory, and yet still play these fucking games of yours. They aren't cute." He turned away from the blond. "Just be fucking glad you've got a head injury or I'd be beating the shite out of you."
"I didn't make up being cold. And I needed to know the truth. Would you have given it to me if I had asked? I didn't mean to upset you."
"Oh," said Harry coldly, "fine, go back to your bed."
"I'm cold," whispered Draco.
"No one ever died of hysterical coldness. I want to be alone in my bed if I can't be alone in my room." As Harry rolled back over Draco could see the glassy sheen on his eyes.
"Please?" He begged as he inched towards to boy who lived. Harry put one hand on his chest and kept him away.
"Get out of my bed and go to sleep." His words were even and cold as the tears fell silently down his face. He wasn't going to let Draco see him cry.
Draco sat up and moved to the edge of the bed as he swung his legs over the side he said softly, "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He stood up and walked to his own bed and said, "I just wanted to know if I belonged somewhere. I don't know where I am or how to do even the simplest things. And I don't know who I can trust or rely on and then I found out that my own lover was hiding things from me." He sighed as he got under his sheets. His teeth chattered as he spoke. "I was scared. And I just wanted to know if I had ever had someone who had taken care of me. I can remember parts of it. . . I remember him kicking me, calling me a traitor because I had fought in the war. And I remember my seventh birthday when I cried because the pony at my party bit me and he beat me and told me that Malfoys didn't cry. And I remember getting my acceptance letter to Hogwarts and being so pleased because I thought he'd be proud, all he said was that if I brought him shame he would kill me. I just," he paused for a long time and then whispered with tears in his voice, "wanted to know if I'd ever been loved. Wanted to be held, 'cause I'm cold and scared. I'm sorry. It was selfish."
Stunned Harry instantly stopped crying. Never in all the time he had known Draco had the boy ever talked so candidly about his family. He had never told Harry anything. Had shouted when Harry asked him about scars on his body. Had made up excuse for each mark marring his skin. If Draco was to be believed then his father would have been next in line for Dad of the Year Award. But the blond boy in the bed didn't know that he was supposed to be fiercely loyal to the man, all he knew was that the bastard who beat him into a coma and tormented his childhood was his father. Clearly he thought that the stories he had just told were already known to Harry. He didn't know he was supposed to love his father. And in all their time together Draco had never apologized for anything. Once he had broken Harry's arm in three places during a Quidditch game and later, when Harry suggested that it might be nice if Draco said sorry, the blond had sneered and said he would not apologize for Harry's innate clumsiness. Draco never admitted self doubt or that he was confused or scared yet here and now he was laying it on the line. And the only times Draco cried were when he was near fatally wounded. So to hear this speech confused and scared Harry.
Silently he stood and crossed over to Draco's bed. Pulling back the curtains he spoke softly, "Budge over, there's no room." He slid under the covers and pulled Draco close to himself, holding the blond's hips. "I'm here now, no more crying. Ask me anything you want to know."
"Were we in love?" asked Draco softly as he rested his head against Harry's shoulder.
Harry sighed, of course Draco had to ask a difficult question, "I don't know."
"How can you not know?" asked Draco sounding hurt, as though he thought Harry was avoiding the question.
"I love you with everything I am. But I don't know how you felt."
"You never asked?"
Laughing Harry said, "I did but you always told me that you would never love a loser like me. But you might have been lying. You don't wear your heart on your sleeve. You guard yourself."
Draco sighed, "Blaise was telling me about the pranks we used to do and about what we did with our time. . . I was a cunt. And now you say that I couldn't even be honest about love? Why does anyone want to be around me?"
Harry had to force himself not to laugh. His arrogant self-assured lover had just called himself a cunt. This was all too much like a pantomime for his taste, "Because under your, ‘I'm such a bastard stay three feet back,’ veneer you are a good, brave man. I don't love you 'cause you have a pretty face." Harry laughed softly, "I can't explain it. You've risked your life to save people you hate purely to prove that you aren't your father, that you don't want to be him, that you weren't on that side. You cheat at petty things like chess and then get all righteous when things actually become serious. You made me so proud because everyone thought you were a spy for the other side but you stayed. Everyone treated you with nothing but contempt and yet you still stayed by my side. I was so scared and you just sneered at me, and called me a wuss, and held my hand when no one was looking. I love you."
Silence descended upon them before Draco said, "I still don't get it."
"With time you will." Harry ran his finger's through blond hair, "Is this okay? You warmer now, Co?"
Nodding slightly the Slytherin yawn, "You're making me warm. . . that's the second time someone's called me that."
"I's just a nickname, the Slytherins call you Dray or Drake and you father calls you Dragon so I made up one that they hadn't given you. Go to sleep, I'm right here now."
next
"Harry?" Draco whispered unsure if the dark boy was awake.
Suddenly Harry was so pleased he hadn't gone over to watch his love. "I'm awake."
He heard shuffling and then Draco was standing above him. Harry's eyes dilated at the moon light suddenly in his eyes as Draco pulled the curtain back. "This is fucking ridiculous. I have this psychosis, you see, ever since I've woken up I've had what they call hysterical coldness flashes. I'm not running a temperature but I'm really cold and I can't make myself believe that I'm not. They weren't sure whether I hit my head some way that's made it happen or if I just fear being alone. . . Merlin, this is embarrassing. The only way I can warm up is to be close to someone. I know that this is really weird but-"
Harry moved over and held up the duvet, "It's not weird; we used to share a bed all the time."
Draco stood still, "We did?"
"You'd be here late and you'd just end up staying over as opposed to sneaking through the castle and possibly being caught by Filch, groundskeeper, an evil man who enjoys tormenting students." Harry was speaking the truth he had just carefully omitted the reason why Draco was there in the first place, because they'd been shagging for hours.
"So we were good friends?" asked Draco as he shut the curtain behind himself and came to rest at Harry's side. They were both on their backs looking at the canopy.
"Friends? No. There was a war and we were on the same side so we grew close. We were partners and we had each other's backs but we weren't friends. Too different I guess." He heard Draco's teeth chattering and he used it as an excuse to pull the blond close. Draco put the top of his head against Harry's chest and sniffed. "Are you okay?"
Draco looked up, away from the direction of their feet and smiled slightly. "I woke up with pneumonia from pulmonary. . . I can't remember, something to do with fluids in my lungs. The only potion they had for it left me with an incurable muggle cold, it's un-catching to others and "has to run its course." It's a pain. I told them to use a Dreeda potion but they didn't pay attention to coma-boy."
Harry smiled. Of course Draco would have thought of the one potion that would easily cured him. He was always so proud of his clever lover, "I'll make you something for it in the morning."
"No potion can cure it," Draco said darkly.
"No, but soup is always good." Harry smiled, "Go to sleep."
After a long time of laying still Draco placed his ear near to Harry's mouth. He felt the slow deep breaths and asked softly, "Harry?"
"Em?" came the noncommittal reply from the sleeping boy.
"How long have we been together?"
"Year and a half. Why, Co?" came the soft answer it was clear that Harry was very much asleep. Harry's arms tightened around Draco's waist.
"Just thinking. . . You love me?" Harry's eyes shot open and Draco knew he was screwed.
"Get the fuck out of my bed." Harry pulled his arms from around Draco's waist. "You earwig on my private conversations and make up fictional sickness to get into my bed to embarrass me? Fuck you. It amazes me how you can get beaten into a coma, wake up without a memory, and yet still play these fucking games of yours. They aren't cute." He turned away from the blond. "Just be fucking glad you've got a head injury or I'd be beating the shite out of you."
"I didn't make up being cold. And I needed to know the truth. Would you have given it to me if I had asked? I didn't mean to upset you."
"Oh," said Harry coldly, "fine, go back to your bed."
"I'm cold," whispered Draco.
"No one ever died of hysterical coldness. I want to be alone in my bed if I can't be alone in my room." As Harry rolled back over Draco could see the glassy sheen on his eyes.
"Please?" He begged as he inched towards to boy who lived. Harry put one hand on his chest and kept him away.
"Get out of my bed and go to sleep." His words were even and cold as the tears fell silently down his face. He wasn't going to let Draco see him cry.
Draco sat up and moved to the edge of the bed as he swung his legs over the side he said softly, "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He stood up and walked to his own bed and said, "I just wanted to know if I belonged somewhere. I don't know where I am or how to do even the simplest things. And I don't know who I can trust or rely on and then I found out that my own lover was hiding things from me." He sighed as he got under his sheets. His teeth chattered as he spoke. "I was scared. And I just wanted to know if I had ever had someone who had taken care of me. I can remember parts of it. . . I remember him kicking me, calling me a traitor because I had fought in the war. And I remember my seventh birthday when I cried because the pony at my party bit me and he beat me and told me that Malfoys didn't cry. And I remember getting my acceptance letter to Hogwarts and being so pleased because I thought he'd be proud, all he said was that if I brought him shame he would kill me. I just," he paused for a long time and then whispered with tears in his voice, "wanted to know if I'd ever been loved. Wanted to be held, 'cause I'm cold and scared. I'm sorry. It was selfish."
Stunned Harry instantly stopped crying. Never in all the time he had known Draco had the boy ever talked so candidly about his family. He had never told Harry anything. Had shouted when Harry asked him about scars on his body. Had made up excuse for each mark marring his skin. If Draco was to be believed then his father would have been next in line for Dad of the Year Award. But the blond boy in the bed didn't know that he was supposed to be fiercely loyal to the man, all he knew was that the bastard who beat him into a coma and tormented his childhood was his father. Clearly he thought that the stories he had just told were already known to Harry. He didn't know he was supposed to love his father. And in all their time together Draco had never apologized for anything. Once he had broken Harry's arm in three places during a Quidditch game and later, when Harry suggested that it might be nice if Draco said sorry, the blond had sneered and said he would not apologize for Harry's innate clumsiness. Draco never admitted self doubt or that he was confused or scared yet here and now he was laying it on the line. And the only times Draco cried were when he was near fatally wounded. So to hear this speech confused and scared Harry.
Silently he stood and crossed over to Draco's bed. Pulling back the curtains he spoke softly, "Budge over, there's no room." He slid under the covers and pulled Draco close to himself, holding the blond's hips. "I'm here now, no more crying. Ask me anything you want to know."
"Were we in love?" asked Draco softly as he rested his head against Harry's shoulder.
Harry sighed, of course Draco had to ask a difficult question, "I don't know."
"How can you not know?" asked Draco sounding hurt, as though he thought Harry was avoiding the question.
"I love you with everything I am. But I don't know how you felt."
"You never asked?"
Laughing Harry said, "I did but you always told me that you would never love a loser like me. But you might have been lying. You don't wear your heart on your sleeve. You guard yourself."
Draco sighed, "Blaise was telling me about the pranks we used to do and about what we did with our time. . . I was a cunt. And now you say that I couldn't even be honest about love? Why does anyone want to be around me?"
Harry had to force himself not to laugh. His arrogant self-assured lover had just called himself a cunt. This was all too much like a pantomime for his taste, "Because under your, ‘I'm such a bastard stay three feet back,’ veneer you are a good, brave man. I don't love you 'cause you have a pretty face." Harry laughed softly, "I can't explain it. You've risked your life to save people you hate purely to prove that you aren't your father, that you don't want to be him, that you weren't on that side. You cheat at petty things like chess and then get all righteous when things actually become serious. You made me so proud because everyone thought you were a spy for the other side but you stayed. Everyone treated you with nothing but contempt and yet you still stayed by my side. I was so scared and you just sneered at me, and called me a wuss, and held my hand when no one was looking. I love you."
Silence descended upon them before Draco said, "I still don't get it."
"With time you will." Harry ran his finger's through blond hair, "Is this okay? You warmer now, Co?"
Nodding slightly the Slytherin yawn, "You're making me warm. . . that's the second time someone's called me that."
"I's just a nickname, the Slytherins call you Dray or Drake and you father calls you Dragon so I made up one that they hadn't given you. Go to sleep, I'm right here now."
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