Love's Trigger, Part Three
Draco pulled out. Ron looked like he might explode. “Nott’s the one behind that potion! He’s going to use it on Harry?”
With each word, his voice rose.
Draco nodded. “I think so. I’m pretty sure.”
Suddenly Ron seemed to deflate, and he flopped into his chair. “He’ll die,” he whispered.
“We can’t think like that,” Draco said, his stomach churning. Harry can’t die, he can’t.
“What would Nott want with Harry, though?” Ron asked.
Draco gave him a look. “Saviour of the World? His influence alone -”
Ron buried his face in his hands. “Gods: fucking shit.”
“Yeah.” Draco stood in silence for a moment. What else did he need? Ron didn’t look good, and after a second,
Draco said, “Thanks, by the way.”
“For?”
“Letting me come with you.”
Ron lifted his head and gave a slight grin. “You didn’t really give me any choice.”
“Of course,” Draco added, “you’re shagging my girlfriend, so I suppose you owe me one.”
Ron started laughing, to Draco’s surprise. “Oh, that’s a good one. You’re in love with Harry - Pansy’s been free for
ages.”
“In love - what?”
Ron looked at him and laughed harder. “Oh, gods. The look on your face.” He managed to calm down, probably at
the thought of Harry. “We all know you’re in love with Harry, Malfoy. It’s not a secret any more - and no, Pansy didn’t tell
me. I figured it out long ago. It’s just too bad that you kept trying to tie her up, in the meantime.”
“But - I’m not - you all know?” Draco couldn’t find his thoughts, could barely get his mouth to work.
Ron gave him a funny look. “Well, Harry doesn’t know, of course. But yeah, everyone else does.”
In love with Harry. Suddenly the room began to tilt, and Draco slid to the floor, leaning against Ron’s desk leg. Oh,
gods. I’m in love with Harry! Well, shit.
Then he blinked and jumped to his feet. “I need something from my office. I’ll meet you at George’s.” Each step he
took seemed to pound out, “In love with Har-ry. In love with Har-ry.” He raced to his department and hastily waved his
wand to release the wards. Inside, sitting right on his desk where he always kept his special potions, was the vial holder.
Draco knew which one it was, and he grabbed it and redid the wards with hardly a pause. In love with Harry. No, he
couldn’t think about that right now. He went outside and Apparated to George’s.
Hermione and Ron were already there. Hermione looked a little uncomfortable, but just as Draco went in, George
joined them and they smiled at each other. So, Draco thought, that’s why she’s not dated in a while. But then he put that
aside and handed out orders. “Hermione, you and I will go over your notes and figure out what we know about the potion.
Ron, work with your brother to figure out where the Portkey went.”
George looked surprised, but when Hermione winked at him, he brightened. “Oh, because I put a trace on the
Portkey. Of course. Come on, Ronniekins, I know exactly what to do.”
Draco didn’t wait, but held out his hand for the notes. Hermione gave them over, somehow managing to hold her
questions, for once. Draco skimmed, noting the parts they’d need. Then he sighed and put them down, feeling a real
thrum of hope for the first time since Harry’d vanished the night before. “I think we can do this.”
“Tell me?” Hermione asked.
“Your notes say that this potion acts with built-in triggers - that whenever the partaker thinks certain words or ideas,
the potion attacks the pain centres of the brain, like Crucio, except from within.”
“Right. That’s what we believe from Stevens’ behaviour.”
Draco nodded. “I think one of Ginny’s triggers must have been Nott’s name - but she was fighting it. Because she
could use it in a sentence -”
Hermione shook her head. “If that was a trigger, she couldn’t use it without the pain. There was no way to fight it that
we saw.”
“But she told us that ‘they will not know’-”
“Oh, well that explains it. She wasn’t using Nott’s name, she was using the word ‘not’.” Hermione looked a little smug,
until she seemed to remember why they were having this discussion. “He used it on Ginny?”
“I think so. So you’re saying it’s related to meaning more than the actual words?”
“Right. In fact, we think that the more meaning attached to the word itself, the stronger the reaction.”
“So: emotions?”
“Yes. In the hands of the right person - or the wrong person, in this case - the potion could be brewed to follow the
partaker’s emotional attachments to words and cause pain in direct proportion to the intensity of the emotion.”
“And would the brewer have to assign the proper emotions?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think he’d just have to know the right trigger words that could produce emotion and go from
there.”
Draco nodded. It was no less than he’d expected, now that he’d read through the notes. “I brought my Revealer,” he
said.
“You think -”
“I’m hoping.” Draco had worked on a special potion after another illegal potion had been discovered almost a year
ago. His potion could be used to reveal the ingredients of any ingested potion, as long as it was taken within twelve hours.
Of course, the closer to the time of ingestion, the better.
Hermione cast a quick Tempus Charm. “It’s been over twelve hours from when he disappeared.”
“Hopefully he had to brew it specially once he had Harry captive,” Draco said. “Wouldn’t he need some of Harry’s
magic?”
“Yes.” Hermione bit her lip. “But -”
“We just have to hope,” Draco whispered, not willing to let her say it. Harry had to be okay.
“We know the basics - after Stevens died, we figured out some of the base ingredients.”
“I know,” Draco said, wondering what her point was.
“I’m going to go to St Mungo’s and find Terry Boot. He was Harry’s partner in the Healing Potions program. He’ll be
able to work with me to start on a possible antidote - and you’ll be bringing Harry to St Mungo’s anyway, right?”
Draco’s throat tightened at the sound of Boot’s name. The man Harry was in love with. Draco had willingly helped, but
now that he knew how he felt about Harry - and knew how Harry felt about Boot - stop! He didn’t have time for this.
“Yes, get Boot to help. I’m sure that will be good for Harry, anyway, seeing him.”
Hermione gave him a strange look but gathered her things. “Tell George goodbye for me, will you?”
Draco couldn’t hold back a smile at the shy tone in her voice. “I will.” She left, and Draco had only seconds before
George and Ron ran into the room.
“We found him - we know where he is,” George said.
“Well, we know where the Portkey is,” Ron corrected. “But I’ve sent a message to Kingsley, anyway.”
“I’m coming too,” Draco said. He held up the vial of Revealer. “He’ll need this.”
Ron hesitated then nodded. George walked with them as they left. “I’m also coming - no, Ron. I’m responsible for
this, and I’ll be damned if I’m not there to help.”
Ron gave Draco the coordinates, and right before they Apparated, Draco said, “Kingsley?”
“Protocol. Anything involving Harry.”
“Right.” Of course - but for once, Draco was relieved that Harry would get special treatment. He had the bad feeling
that he’d need it.
***
Harry felt funny - really funny. It was hard to think, like his thoughts were moving in slow motion. “Ginny? I don’t feel
so good.”
“Don’t worry, Harry. It passes, and then you’ll feel really good - because we’ll be together. I promise.”
Somehow, that didn’t reassure him much. Harry blinked, wishing he knew what he should be doing. Then a twinge in
his bladder reminded him. “Loo.”
“Oh, of course. You should’ve asked before, Harry.”
Ginny gave a little knock on the door, and after a second, it swung open. She put her arm around Harry’s naked waist
and helped him walk. For some reason, he couldn’t quite go in a straight line. What had Nott given him? Harry couldn’t
seem to find the right feelings to care, however. He caught a glimpse of a big guy standing beside the door - and the guy
followed them down a narrow corridor. Ginny opened another door, and there was the toilet next to a tiny sink and a tub
with a shower curtain around it.
“Here.”
She stood there, watching as Harry lifted the lid. Then he managed to capture some of his fleeting thoughts. “Can I
have some privacy?” It seemed silly when he realised he was naked - hadn’t he already known that, though? His head
felt so weird.
Ginny blushed. “Of course. I’ll be right outside, with Gerald.”
Harry relieved himself, but before he flushed, he looked at the high window on the other side of the tub. The ceiling
was lower in here, it seemed, so it wasn’t as high as the one in his room. Window. Why is that important? Thinking was
so hard, but something told Harry to stand on the toilet and see if he could reach the window. He had to lean over the tub,
but he could just manage it. Of course, once he got a hand on the cool glass, he couldn’t think of anything else to do.
Suddenly, a loud noise, like a siren, blared through the room. Harry pushed back from the window, covering his ears.
“Harry - someone’s here. I’m coming in.”
Instinctively, Harry waved his hand to the door and thought the strongest Locking Charm he knew. He could hear
thumps under the painful siren, and he knew it had worked. Then came Nott’s voice. “What’s going on? Why isn’t the
bloody door open?”
“He wanted some privacy-”
“Stupid bitch.” Another thump and a thud, and Harry knew something had happened to Ginny.
“Open up, Potter, right now!”
“No.” Harry couldn’t think why it was important, but he knew he couldn’t give in.
“You fucker - open the door!”
“No.”
Then there were more thuds and some pops and finally a loud explosion. The siren-like noise stopped. “Harry?” a
familiar voice called.
“Draco.” Instantly pain laced through Harry’s body, and he grabbed his head.
“Harry, unlock the door for me.”
Panting, Harry managed to wave his hand. For Draco - the pain hit again, and Harry felt himself falling off the toilet.
He had a vague feeling of banging into the side of the tub, but all that mattered was the pain slicing through him, burning,
twisting, overwhelming.
Then he was there, his grey eyes worried even as his hands gently cradled Harry’s head. “I know it hurts. I don’t
know what the trigger is, but try not to think, okay? I’m going to give you something - it won’t help the pain, not yet. But
it’ll let us know what we can give you for it, okay?”
Harry didn’t say anything; it was so good to see him, to see Draco - this time, the pain shut him down, and darkness
fell.
Draco paced the floor in the hospital room. Ron and George sat on a sofa against the far wall. Both looked
exhausted. Ginny was in the room next door, and they’d gone between the two for a while before finally collapsing in
Harry’s room. “They think she’ll be okay - but she’s looking at charges for going to Nott in the first place,” Ron said, his
voice subdued. “If anything happens to Harry -”
He stopped, rubbing his hands over his face. Harry lay on the nearby bed, pale and unresponsive. Terry Boot sat
beside the bed, scribbling notes on his pad. Hermione stood on the other side, holding Harry’s limp hand.
It had been just over an hour. Harry had collapsed from pain. They had no idea what the trigger was, but it had been
something with a great deal of emotion attached, judging by the pain levels. Draco’s Revealer had worked better than
they’d dared to hope, and Boot, Draco and Hermione managed to complete the antidote. They’d even used the
Quick-Brew technique, part of why Harry had asked Draco to work with them in the first place. It allowed Healers to make
potions in less than half the usual time.
And now they waited. Draco couldn’t look at Terry without cringing. Boot had run to Harry’s side when Draco carried
him in after casting a Levitation Charm. The worry on his face had mingled with more tender emotions, and Draco wanted
to slap him. But he didn’t, of course.
A small groan stopped Draco in his tracks. He whirled to look at the bed. Harry moved, his eyes still closed. He lifted
his free hand to his head, wincing.
Draco stepped closer, fighting the urge to either shove Boot aside or pull Harry into his arms. Instead, he clutched his
robe. “Harry?” he said.
Ron and George came to the foot of the bed, their faces anxious. Harry opened his eyes slowly. Draco had put his
glasses on him when they gave him the antidote. Now those green eyes moved from Hermione’s face to Ron’s and
George’s - and then stopped on Draco’s.
Harry licked his lips, looking almost nervous. Then he said, “Draco?”
“I’m here, Harry.”
Harry looked like he was waiting for something. “Draco?”
Draco frowned. What was wrong with him? “Here, Harry.” He touched Harry’s hand, reaching in front of Boot to do
so. Boot scowled and opened his mouth, but then Harry laughed.
“Oh, gods. It’s over. I can say your name. I can think! Wait, what happened?”
Draco looked at Hermione, meeting her confused gaze across the bed. “Harry,” she asked gently, “what do you
mean? What about Draco’s name?”
Harry looked at them both. “Before - today? When you found me, I couldn’t say Draco’s name. I couldn’t even think
it. When I did, there was this horrible pain, like being Crucioed from the inside.”
Draco stared, not sure what to think, not even able to think. “How - why?” He looked at Hermione. “It can’t be.”
But Hermione was smiling, tears in her eyes. “I think it can. Though I bet Nott would be surprised to know how well
his trigger worked. He probably thought it would be something to keep Harry in check for a bit, since you two live
together.”
Harry struggled to sit up, only then noticing Boot, who had shoved his way into the group. “Oh, hey, Terry. Thanks for
taking care of me - bet you didn’t plan that when we started all this.”
Boot’s face lit up, and Draco’s heart sank. It was obvious that Boot was in love with Harry. Draco moved back a bit,
allowing Boot more access.
“Wait - where are you going?” Harry sounded panicked, and Draco stepped back again.
“I just thought - I mean, you’re okay now. I was going to -” Draco didn’t know what to say, and suddenly all his
exhaustion and emotional stress seemed to explode into one big mess inside. His eyes burned, but he lifted his chin. “It’s
okay, Harry. I heard you - yesterday, it was. When you were talking with Hermione. I heard what you said in the kitchen,
about - well, I heard you.” Draco figured it wasn’t his place to tell Boot that Harry loved him.
Harry, however, didn’t react quite like Draco expected. A red flush rose in his face, and his eyes darted to Hermione,
flashed past Ron and George, and landed on Draco again. “Um, you know then?”
“Yes. But don’t worry. I’ll - stay out of your way. I can even move out.”
“What?” Harry squawked, sitting up too fast and wincing. “Why? I promise, Draco, I won’t let it interfere. Please,
please don’t leave.”
Draco blinked, confused why Harry would care. The pain in Harry’s voice caught at him, and he hesitated, not sure
what to do. “But Harry, wouldn’t you rather have time alone with T -”
Hermione reached over the bed with surprising quickness and dug her nails into Draco’s hand. “I think we should let
you two talk alone,” she said, her voice almost a hiss. “Draco, let us leave first. Please.”
He glanced at Boot and felt heat rise in his face. She was right. He shouldn’t have brought this up in front of him - it
was Harry’s place to tell him. “Okay. I apologise.”
Harry looked almost distraught as Ron and George said their goodbyes, reminding Harry they’d be right outside if he
needed them. Hermione hugged him, whispering something in his ear before she left, but Draco didn’t think it calmed Harry
down at all. If anything, he looked more worried than ever.
Boot smoothed Harry’s hair, which made Draco clench his fists. There was no way he could stay in their flat if he’d
have to witness this - he just couldn’t do it. He looked away, not wanting to see Boot try and kiss him. But Harry just
said, “See you later, Terry,” and held out his hand for Boot to shake.
Then they were alone, and Harry folded his arms over his chest, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Is it really
so bad?” he asked after the silence had stretched out for more than a couple of minutes. “Living with me, I mean? I’ve
done okay so far, haven’t I? I haven’t made you uncomfortable. I’ve let us just be friends. Why do you have to go?”
Draco closed his eyes against the pain in Harry’s voice. Obviously Harry did care about him as a friend - but Draco
didn’t know why Harry would care if he left. “I just can’t - I can’t be around: that. I can’t watch you and Boot - Harry,
please don’t ask me to.”
There was a pause, and then Harry said, “What? I think I missed something. Terry and I work together and we’re
friends, but you never see us together. Is that supposed to change now that we’re -”
“Now that you’re lovers?” Draco said, not able to hold back the bitterness. “Yeah, I think it’ll probably change.”
“Wait, who’s going to be lovers?”
Draco managed to look at Harry, surprised at the confused look on his face. “Gods, Harry. Can’t you see? Things
have already changed - you’re already playing dumb because of it.” Draco’s heart had to be breaking into a million pieces
- how much longer would he have to do this?
“I’m not - because of what?” Harry rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Draco, I’m really confused. How does me
being in love with you have anything to do with working with Terry?”
Draco’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t think - he could hardly breathe. “In love with me?” he whispered a few
seconds later, a tendril of hope rising.
Harry bit his lip and nodded, looking at his lap. “Hermione’s been wanting me to tell you for months, but I just didn’t
know how. I guess - I mean, I know why you want to leave. I just, I hoped: you’re my best friend, too, and I don’t know
how -” Harry’s voice trailed off, and still Draco couldn’t find the words.
And then he realised he didn’t need any. He slipped off his shoes and lifted his robes. Carefully, so as to not shake
Harry’s bed too much, he climbed onto the bed and straddled Harry’s lap. Harry had stopped staring at his legs and now
looked at Draco, his eyes wide and so green. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“This,” Draco said, and he leaned forward and kissed him. For a second, he thought Harry might refuse, thought he
might have misunderstood somehow, but then, with a soft sigh, Harry’s lips opened. Draco didn’t hesitate to gently sweep
through Harry’s mouth with his tongue. Then he groaned low in his throat when Harry’s tongue met his, twining and
sucking. The kiss changed from the gentle start to something hungry and needy. When Draco leaned forward to hold
Harry’s face, he rocked his hips against Harry’s and felt an answering hardness there.
“Harry,” he said against Harry’s mouth, wondering if he should stop - wondering if he could stop.
“Oh, gods. Draco. I’ve wanted this for so long,” Harry murmured, pulling back to kiss Draco’s face and neck between
words. “Are you sure?” he asked then, holding Draco still by his shoulders, though he lifted his hips slightly to press
against Draco.
Draco smiled, giving in. “I don’t normally go around kissing my flatmates just for the hell of it,” he said. “In fact, I don’t
normally kiss blokes, period. I’d say I’m sure.”
Harry grinned, a brilliant warm smile, and Draco felt his insides melt and his groin tighten even more, if that was
possible. Then Harry pulled him back, and their lips met again. As their tongues twined together, heat pooled in Draco’s
stomach. He hoped Harry meant it, because there was no way he was stopping now, regardless of where they were.
Then Harry lifted his hips even more, and the resulting friction had Draco rocking into him with a rushed, longing rhythm.
“Harry,” he said. “Harry!” He came in a blast of sensations, and only just noticed Harry responding with a guttural moan
and Draco’s name.
His heart seemed to be pounding through his chest, but then Harry began feathering kisses along his jaw and beneath
his ear. “Draco, Draco, Draco,” he murmured. “Love you so much.”
Draco’s breath caught and he pulled back, holding Harry’s face between his hands and looking into his green eyes.
“Oh, Harry. You’re the person most special to me, too, you know. And yes, that means I love you, too.”
With each word, his voice rose.
Draco nodded. “I think so. I’m pretty sure.”
Suddenly Ron seemed to deflate, and he flopped into his chair. “He’ll die,” he whispered.
“We can’t think like that,” Draco said, his stomach churning. Harry can’t die, he can’t.
“What would Nott want with Harry, though?” Ron asked.
Draco gave him a look. “Saviour of the World? His influence alone -”
Ron buried his face in his hands. “Gods: fucking shit.”
“Yeah.” Draco stood in silence for a moment. What else did he need? Ron didn’t look good, and after a second,
Draco said, “Thanks, by the way.”
“For?”
“Letting me come with you.”
Ron lifted his head and gave a slight grin. “You didn’t really give me any choice.”
“Of course,” Draco added, “you’re shagging my girlfriend, so I suppose you owe me one.”
Ron started laughing, to Draco’s surprise. “Oh, that’s a good one. You’re in love with Harry - Pansy’s been free for
ages.”
“In love - what?”
Ron looked at him and laughed harder. “Oh, gods. The look on your face.” He managed to calm down, probably at
the thought of Harry. “We all know you’re in love with Harry, Malfoy. It’s not a secret any more - and no, Pansy didn’t tell
me. I figured it out long ago. It’s just too bad that you kept trying to tie her up, in the meantime.”
“But - I’m not - you all know?” Draco couldn’t find his thoughts, could barely get his mouth to work.
Ron gave him a funny look. “Well, Harry doesn’t know, of course. But yeah, everyone else does.”
In love with Harry. Suddenly the room began to tilt, and Draco slid to the floor, leaning against Ron’s desk leg. Oh,
gods. I’m in love with Harry! Well, shit.
Then he blinked and jumped to his feet. “I need something from my office. I’ll meet you at George’s.” Each step he
took seemed to pound out, “In love with Har-ry. In love with Har-ry.” He raced to his department and hastily waved his
wand to release the wards. Inside, sitting right on his desk where he always kept his special potions, was the vial holder.
Draco knew which one it was, and he grabbed it and redid the wards with hardly a pause. In love with Harry. No, he
couldn’t think about that right now. He went outside and Apparated to George’s.
Hermione and Ron were already there. Hermione looked a little uncomfortable, but just as Draco went in, George
joined them and they smiled at each other. So, Draco thought, that’s why she’s not dated in a while. But then he put that
aside and handed out orders. “Hermione, you and I will go over your notes and figure out what we know about the potion.
Ron, work with your brother to figure out where the Portkey went.”
George looked surprised, but when Hermione winked at him, he brightened. “Oh, because I put a trace on the
Portkey. Of course. Come on, Ronniekins, I know exactly what to do.”
Draco didn’t wait, but held out his hand for the notes. Hermione gave them over, somehow managing to hold her
questions, for once. Draco skimmed, noting the parts they’d need. Then he sighed and put them down, feeling a real
thrum of hope for the first time since Harry’d vanished the night before. “I think we can do this.”
“Tell me?” Hermione asked.
“Your notes say that this potion acts with built-in triggers - that whenever the partaker thinks certain words or ideas,
the potion attacks the pain centres of the brain, like Crucio, except from within.”
“Right. That’s what we believe from Stevens’ behaviour.”
Draco nodded. “I think one of Ginny’s triggers must have been Nott’s name - but she was fighting it. Because she
could use it in a sentence -”
Hermione shook her head. “If that was a trigger, she couldn’t use it without the pain. There was no way to fight it that
we saw.”
“But she told us that ‘they will not know’-”
“Oh, well that explains it. She wasn’t using Nott’s name, she was using the word ‘not’.” Hermione looked a little smug,
until she seemed to remember why they were having this discussion. “He used it on Ginny?”
“I think so. So you’re saying it’s related to meaning more than the actual words?”
“Right. In fact, we think that the more meaning attached to the word itself, the stronger the reaction.”
“So: emotions?”
“Yes. In the hands of the right person - or the wrong person, in this case - the potion could be brewed to follow the
partaker’s emotional attachments to words and cause pain in direct proportion to the intensity of the emotion.”
“And would the brewer have to assign the proper emotions?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think he’d just have to know the right trigger words that could produce emotion and go from
there.”
Draco nodded. It was no less than he’d expected, now that he’d read through the notes. “I brought my Revealer,” he
said.
“You think -”
“I’m hoping.” Draco had worked on a special potion after another illegal potion had been discovered almost a year
ago. His potion could be used to reveal the ingredients of any ingested potion, as long as it was taken within twelve hours.
Of course, the closer to the time of ingestion, the better.
Hermione cast a quick Tempus Charm. “It’s been over twelve hours from when he disappeared.”
“Hopefully he had to brew it specially once he had Harry captive,” Draco said. “Wouldn’t he need some of Harry’s
magic?”
“Yes.” Hermione bit her lip. “But -”
“We just have to hope,” Draco whispered, not willing to let her say it. Harry had to be okay.
“We know the basics - after Stevens died, we figured out some of the base ingredients.”
“I know,” Draco said, wondering what her point was.
“I’m going to go to St Mungo’s and find Terry Boot. He was Harry’s partner in the Healing Potions program. He’ll be
able to work with me to start on a possible antidote - and you’ll be bringing Harry to St Mungo’s anyway, right?”
Draco’s throat tightened at the sound of Boot’s name. The man Harry was in love with. Draco had willingly helped, but
now that he knew how he felt about Harry - and knew how Harry felt about Boot - stop! He didn’t have time for this.
“Yes, get Boot to help. I’m sure that will be good for Harry, anyway, seeing him.”
Hermione gave him a strange look but gathered her things. “Tell George goodbye for me, will you?”
Draco couldn’t hold back a smile at the shy tone in her voice. “I will.” She left, and Draco had only seconds before
George and Ron ran into the room.
“We found him - we know where he is,” George said.
“Well, we know where the Portkey is,” Ron corrected. “But I’ve sent a message to Kingsley, anyway.”
“I’m coming too,” Draco said. He held up the vial of Revealer. “He’ll need this.”
Ron hesitated then nodded. George walked with them as they left. “I’m also coming - no, Ron. I’m responsible for
this, and I’ll be damned if I’m not there to help.”
Ron gave Draco the coordinates, and right before they Apparated, Draco said, “Kingsley?”
“Protocol. Anything involving Harry.”
“Right.” Of course - but for once, Draco was relieved that Harry would get special treatment. He had the bad feeling
that he’d need it.
***
Harry felt funny - really funny. It was hard to think, like his thoughts were moving in slow motion. “Ginny? I don’t feel
so good.”
“Don’t worry, Harry. It passes, and then you’ll feel really good - because we’ll be together. I promise.”
Somehow, that didn’t reassure him much. Harry blinked, wishing he knew what he should be doing. Then a twinge in
his bladder reminded him. “Loo.”
“Oh, of course. You should’ve asked before, Harry.”
Ginny gave a little knock on the door, and after a second, it swung open. She put her arm around Harry’s naked waist
and helped him walk. For some reason, he couldn’t quite go in a straight line. What had Nott given him? Harry couldn’t
seem to find the right feelings to care, however. He caught a glimpse of a big guy standing beside the door - and the guy
followed them down a narrow corridor. Ginny opened another door, and there was the toilet next to a tiny sink and a tub
with a shower curtain around it.
“Here.”
She stood there, watching as Harry lifted the lid. Then he managed to capture some of his fleeting thoughts. “Can I
have some privacy?” It seemed silly when he realised he was naked - hadn’t he already known that, though? His head
felt so weird.
Ginny blushed. “Of course. I’ll be right outside, with Gerald.”
Harry relieved himself, but before he flushed, he looked at the high window on the other side of the tub. The ceiling
was lower in here, it seemed, so it wasn’t as high as the one in his room. Window. Why is that important? Thinking was
so hard, but something told Harry to stand on the toilet and see if he could reach the window. He had to lean over the tub,
but he could just manage it. Of course, once he got a hand on the cool glass, he couldn’t think of anything else to do.
Suddenly, a loud noise, like a siren, blared through the room. Harry pushed back from the window, covering his ears.
“Harry - someone’s here. I’m coming in.”
Instinctively, Harry waved his hand to the door and thought the strongest Locking Charm he knew. He could hear
thumps under the painful siren, and he knew it had worked. Then came Nott’s voice. “What’s going on? Why isn’t the
bloody door open?”
“He wanted some privacy-”
“Stupid bitch.” Another thump and a thud, and Harry knew something had happened to Ginny.
“Open up, Potter, right now!”
“No.” Harry couldn’t think why it was important, but he knew he couldn’t give in.
“You fucker - open the door!”
“No.”
Then there were more thuds and some pops and finally a loud explosion. The siren-like noise stopped. “Harry?” a
familiar voice called.
“Draco.” Instantly pain laced through Harry’s body, and he grabbed his head.
“Harry, unlock the door for me.”
Panting, Harry managed to wave his hand. For Draco - the pain hit again, and Harry felt himself falling off the toilet.
He had a vague feeling of banging into the side of the tub, but all that mattered was the pain slicing through him, burning,
twisting, overwhelming.
Then he was there, his grey eyes worried even as his hands gently cradled Harry’s head. “I know it hurts. I don’t
know what the trigger is, but try not to think, okay? I’m going to give you something - it won’t help the pain, not yet. But
it’ll let us know what we can give you for it, okay?”
Harry didn’t say anything; it was so good to see him, to see Draco - this time, the pain shut him down, and darkness
fell.
Draco paced the floor in the hospital room. Ron and George sat on a sofa against the far wall. Both looked
exhausted. Ginny was in the room next door, and they’d gone between the two for a while before finally collapsing in
Harry’s room. “They think she’ll be okay - but she’s looking at charges for going to Nott in the first place,” Ron said, his
voice subdued. “If anything happens to Harry -”
He stopped, rubbing his hands over his face. Harry lay on the nearby bed, pale and unresponsive. Terry Boot sat
beside the bed, scribbling notes on his pad. Hermione stood on the other side, holding Harry’s limp hand.
It had been just over an hour. Harry had collapsed from pain. They had no idea what the trigger was, but it had been
something with a great deal of emotion attached, judging by the pain levels. Draco’s Revealer had worked better than
they’d dared to hope, and Boot, Draco and Hermione managed to complete the antidote. They’d even used the
Quick-Brew technique, part of why Harry had asked Draco to work with them in the first place. It allowed Healers to make
potions in less than half the usual time.
And now they waited. Draco couldn’t look at Terry without cringing. Boot had run to Harry’s side when Draco carried
him in after casting a Levitation Charm. The worry on his face had mingled with more tender emotions, and Draco wanted
to slap him. But he didn’t, of course.
A small groan stopped Draco in his tracks. He whirled to look at the bed. Harry moved, his eyes still closed. He lifted
his free hand to his head, wincing.
Draco stepped closer, fighting the urge to either shove Boot aside or pull Harry into his arms. Instead, he clutched his
robe. “Harry?” he said.
Ron and George came to the foot of the bed, their faces anxious. Harry opened his eyes slowly. Draco had put his
glasses on him when they gave him the antidote. Now those green eyes moved from Hermione’s face to Ron’s and
George’s - and then stopped on Draco’s.
Harry licked his lips, looking almost nervous. Then he said, “Draco?”
“I’m here, Harry.”
Harry looked like he was waiting for something. “Draco?”
Draco frowned. What was wrong with him? “Here, Harry.” He touched Harry’s hand, reaching in front of Boot to do
so. Boot scowled and opened his mouth, but then Harry laughed.
“Oh, gods. It’s over. I can say your name. I can think! Wait, what happened?”
Draco looked at Hermione, meeting her confused gaze across the bed. “Harry,” she asked gently, “what do you
mean? What about Draco’s name?”
Harry looked at them both. “Before - today? When you found me, I couldn’t say Draco’s name. I couldn’t even think
it. When I did, there was this horrible pain, like being Crucioed from the inside.”
Draco stared, not sure what to think, not even able to think. “How - why?” He looked at Hermione. “It can’t be.”
But Hermione was smiling, tears in her eyes. “I think it can. Though I bet Nott would be surprised to know how well
his trigger worked. He probably thought it would be something to keep Harry in check for a bit, since you two live
together.”
Harry struggled to sit up, only then noticing Boot, who had shoved his way into the group. “Oh, hey, Terry. Thanks for
taking care of me - bet you didn’t plan that when we started all this.”
Boot’s face lit up, and Draco’s heart sank. It was obvious that Boot was in love with Harry. Draco moved back a bit,
allowing Boot more access.
“Wait - where are you going?” Harry sounded panicked, and Draco stepped back again.
“I just thought - I mean, you’re okay now. I was going to -” Draco didn’t know what to say, and suddenly all his
exhaustion and emotional stress seemed to explode into one big mess inside. His eyes burned, but he lifted his chin. “It’s
okay, Harry. I heard you - yesterday, it was. When you were talking with Hermione. I heard what you said in the kitchen,
about - well, I heard you.” Draco figured it wasn’t his place to tell Boot that Harry loved him.
Harry, however, didn’t react quite like Draco expected. A red flush rose in his face, and his eyes darted to Hermione,
flashed past Ron and George, and landed on Draco again. “Um, you know then?”
“Yes. But don’t worry. I’ll - stay out of your way. I can even move out.”
“What?” Harry squawked, sitting up too fast and wincing. “Why? I promise, Draco, I won’t let it interfere. Please,
please don’t leave.”
Draco blinked, confused why Harry would care. The pain in Harry’s voice caught at him, and he hesitated, not sure
what to do. “But Harry, wouldn’t you rather have time alone with T -”
Hermione reached over the bed with surprising quickness and dug her nails into Draco’s hand. “I think we should let
you two talk alone,” she said, her voice almost a hiss. “Draco, let us leave first. Please.”
He glanced at Boot and felt heat rise in his face. She was right. He shouldn’t have brought this up in front of him - it
was Harry’s place to tell him. “Okay. I apologise.”
Harry looked almost distraught as Ron and George said their goodbyes, reminding Harry they’d be right outside if he
needed them. Hermione hugged him, whispering something in his ear before she left, but Draco didn’t think it calmed Harry
down at all. If anything, he looked more worried than ever.
Boot smoothed Harry’s hair, which made Draco clench his fists. There was no way he could stay in their flat if he’d
have to witness this - he just couldn’t do it. He looked away, not wanting to see Boot try and kiss him. But Harry just
said, “See you later, Terry,” and held out his hand for Boot to shake.
Then they were alone, and Harry folded his arms over his chest, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Is it really
so bad?” he asked after the silence had stretched out for more than a couple of minutes. “Living with me, I mean? I’ve
done okay so far, haven’t I? I haven’t made you uncomfortable. I’ve let us just be friends. Why do you have to go?”
Draco closed his eyes against the pain in Harry’s voice. Obviously Harry did care about him as a friend - but Draco
didn’t know why Harry would care if he left. “I just can’t - I can’t be around: that. I can’t watch you and Boot - Harry,
please don’t ask me to.”
There was a pause, and then Harry said, “What? I think I missed something. Terry and I work together and we’re
friends, but you never see us together. Is that supposed to change now that we’re -”
“Now that you’re lovers?” Draco said, not able to hold back the bitterness. “Yeah, I think it’ll probably change.”
“Wait, who’s going to be lovers?”
Draco managed to look at Harry, surprised at the confused look on his face. “Gods, Harry. Can’t you see? Things
have already changed - you’re already playing dumb because of it.” Draco’s heart had to be breaking into a million pieces
- how much longer would he have to do this?
“I’m not - because of what?” Harry rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Draco, I’m really confused. How does me
being in love with you have anything to do with working with Terry?”
Draco’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t think - he could hardly breathe. “In love with me?” he whispered a few
seconds later, a tendril of hope rising.
Harry bit his lip and nodded, looking at his lap. “Hermione’s been wanting me to tell you for months, but I just didn’t
know how. I guess - I mean, I know why you want to leave. I just, I hoped: you’re my best friend, too, and I don’t know
how -” Harry’s voice trailed off, and still Draco couldn’t find the words.
And then he realised he didn’t need any. He slipped off his shoes and lifted his robes. Carefully, so as to not shake
Harry’s bed too much, he climbed onto the bed and straddled Harry’s lap. Harry had stopped staring at his legs and now
looked at Draco, his eyes wide and so green. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“This,” Draco said, and he leaned forward and kissed him. For a second, he thought Harry might refuse, thought he
might have misunderstood somehow, but then, with a soft sigh, Harry’s lips opened. Draco didn’t hesitate to gently sweep
through Harry’s mouth with his tongue. Then he groaned low in his throat when Harry’s tongue met his, twining and
sucking. The kiss changed from the gentle start to something hungry and needy. When Draco leaned forward to hold
Harry’s face, he rocked his hips against Harry’s and felt an answering hardness there.
“Harry,” he said against Harry’s mouth, wondering if he should stop - wondering if he could stop.
“Oh, gods. Draco. I’ve wanted this for so long,” Harry murmured, pulling back to kiss Draco’s face and neck between
words. “Are you sure?” he asked then, holding Draco still by his shoulders, though he lifted his hips slightly to press
against Draco.
Draco smiled, giving in. “I don’t normally go around kissing my flatmates just for the hell of it,” he said. “In fact, I don’t
normally kiss blokes, period. I’d say I’m sure.”
Harry grinned, a brilliant warm smile, and Draco felt his insides melt and his groin tighten even more, if that was
possible. Then Harry pulled him back, and their lips met again. As their tongues twined together, heat pooled in Draco’s
stomach. He hoped Harry meant it, because there was no way he was stopping now, regardless of where they were.
Then Harry lifted his hips even more, and the resulting friction had Draco rocking into him with a rushed, longing rhythm.
“Harry,” he said. “Harry!” He came in a blast of sensations, and only just noticed Harry responding with a guttural moan
and Draco’s name.
His heart seemed to be pounding through his chest, but then Harry began feathering kisses along his jaw and beneath
his ear. “Draco, Draco, Draco,” he murmured. “Love you so much.”
Draco’s breath caught and he pulled back, holding Harry’s face between his hands and looking into his green eyes.
“Oh, Harry. You’re the person most special to me, too, you know. And yes, that means I love you, too.”