Fic: "Nightmares" for deora_mystic
Gift for: deora_mystic
Author: jazzyjello
Title: Nightmares
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Luna
Rating: PG-13
Summary: One day Harry isn't in their room.
Notes: Angst. I hope you like this, deora_mystic. Thanks to my beta, K.
Harry. Draco wants (needs) Harry.
One day Harry isn't in their room. It is only a cramped filing room, but it is their room at 1 o'clock. Draco stares at Harry's empty chair and wants to scream.
He runs through the house, looking for Harry, but all he can hear is the thudding of his footsteps (thud, thud, thud).
The whole of the Order headquarters is empty. Draco slows down and walks through the dusty, stuffy house, peering in doors and wondering where everyone is. A portrait on the wall explains that after all this time, they've finally found Voldemort. The Order left in the middle of the night for a surprise attack. This may be the Final Battle.
The Final Battle! Draco wants to scream. Why didn't they tell me? Why didn't they wake me up? Whywhywhy? I want to fight!
They probably just forgot, says the portrait kindly.
Draco scowls. He knows the real reason. Most of the Order doesn't trust him at all.
*
About a year ago, Draco came to the Order for protection against Voldemort and the other Death Eaters. The Death Eaters would kill Draco if they ever laid eyes on him, because Draco was the one who was too scared to kill Dumbledore. It was the shameful truth. His father was furious at him, no doubt, and Draco couldn't face any of them.
Draco knew that he had come here for all the wrong reasons, so he kept his head down and did as he was told.
The rest of the Order didn't tell him much about what was going on, but let him do petty tasks like housekeeping and filing. He couldn't even go out of the house on missions. Draco never complained, though he found himself miserable.
After a couple months, he became worn and thin. His eyes seemed emptier. He had gradually forgotten how to smile, how to cry, how to feel.
When he dreamed, it was always the same dream: Darkness, blood, screams. Voldemort finding him, murdering him, green light everywhere, and the last thing he always saw was Voldemort's red eyes.
He felt like he was already dead, that he had been murdered many times already.
*
That is, until Harry made him feel alive again. Until Harry made life worth living again.
And now Harry isn't here.
Now he's furious because they didn't even invite him to help fight in the Final Battle. I want to see Voldemort dead too! he screams into the now-empty house, and the portraits peer at him irritably.
Draco thinks that perhaps this is all a nightmare, so he goes back to sleep.
*
Harry still isn't there the next day. Draco goes to their room at 1 o'clock and stares at Harry's chair, remembering.
*
They had been stuck with filing duty at the same time. It was mindless work, a terribly dull task that everyone switched off doing in one-hour segments, because no one could take it any longer than that.
After an initial glare at the beginning - a flash of raw emotion, hatred - they always spent the rest of the time pretending to ignore each other.
But Draco was always aware of Harry's presence, even more than his own - Harry's shabby clothes, Harry's yawns, the dark circles under his eyes. He always looked exhausted. Draco didn't know what was keeping him together. The war had dragged on years after anyone thought it would, and it was taking a hard toll on Harry.
In the room, there was a tiny window covered in grime. It made whatever the weather was outside seem dreary and ugly.
*
Their hands had sometimes bumped into each other when they reached for the same cabinet. Harry's hands were warm, and whenever their hands touched they looked at each other, shocked at the contact.
Sometimes they talked, about nothing, about everything, lowered voices and ducked heads and rustling papers. Draco found himself looking forward to 1 o'clock.
*
Their first kiss had been angry, unexpected. They knocked into each other, bumping shoulder to chest, and suddenly Harry was right there, rough hands latching onto Draco's shoulders for balance, green eyes staring, centimeters away. And then Harry's mouth was on his, pressing fiercely. Harry Potter was kissing him and he was too shocked to move. Harry pulled away after a moment. He looked horrified, backing up, turning away.
Raw emotion was flooding Draco, and he felt light-headed, more alive than he'd felt in years. He knew that he needed to do that again.
*
Then everything sped up.
One moment Draco would be flipping through papers, and the next he'd be slammed against the wall, Harry's mouth against his. It was rough and harsh, mouths biting, teeth clacking, papers scattering onto the floor. Soft pleading noises escaped from Draco's mouth. His hands were too impatient to unbutton Harry's shirt so they just slid under it. Harry's skin was sweaty, hot, his stomach flat and firm. Draco's heart was beating out-of-control.
This was the only thing that made Draco feel anything at all.
*
Then everything slowed down.
Harry's hands would gently cup Draco's chin and pull him closer, looking into his eyes. Harry's eyes were full of an emotion that was different from the fierce lust from before. They kissed slowly, as though there wasn't any rush, as though time would stop and they could be like this forever, just memorizing each other's mouths, moaning softly, their hands in each other's hair.
They were just two teenage boys trying to figure out what love was.
*
Then everything stopped.
Harry stopped coming to their room. The Final Battle was going on and Draco was trapped up in the Order's headquarters. Alone.
Without Harry.
He wants (needs) Harry.
He doesn't really know how to cook but he heats up soup cans and eats. And stares out the grimy window in their room. And sleeps.
Only now in his nightmares it's not him getting killed by Voldemort, it's Harry. Harry screaming, Harry bleeding, and there's nothing Draco can do but watch helplessly.
He doesn't want to go outside because he's too scared of what the news will bring. He stays inside, curled in his old creaky bed, fully clothed. His room is a tiny room at the end of a long hallway, where they stuck him because there was nowhere else for him to go. It wasn't even a bedroom, more of a dark storage room they pushed a bed into. The rest of the Order didn't live here; they had their own places. Homes.
The nights are dead silent, but so are the days. Draco haunts the house like a ghost, drifting from room to room, not daring to make a sound, always staring but never seeing anything.
*
After some time, they come back. Some of them, but not all of them. They grab their papers and coats and give the Order Headquarters a final parting look before leaving for good. Voldemort's defeated, Lupin tells him, but Lupin looks defeated too. There's a tired look in his eyes, in all of their eyes. They're worn out. They've seen too much.
Draco mostly avoids them all - they scare him and he doesn't want to know details - and waits for Harry to come back. He wants (needs) Harry to come back.
(He is never coming back, whispers a voice in the back of his head, but he doesn't want to listen to it.)
Draco thinks that perhaps this is all a nightmare, so he goes back to sleep.
*
Draco has nightmares about Voldemort murdering Harry. He wakes up and it's in the papers' headlines - BOTH POTTER AND VOLDEMORT DEAD. He realizes that he is still dreaming and throws the paper away.
*
When Draco is awake, he rubs his eyes and wonders vaguely how much time is passing.
He dreams that Luna Lovegood comes and cleans up the house from time to time, scrubbing the floors and windows. She does his laundry and cooks him warm meals and watches him eat.
Luna smiles at him absently and tells him that everything is going to be alright. This is a very interesting dream, Draco tells her. Even the food tastes real. When is Harry coming home?
Luna shakes her head and looks at him pensively. She tells him that he needs to go outside and take a walk. She takes his hand, pulls him up, and leads him out the door. The night air is cool. The crickets are shockingly, obscenely loud and he wishes they'd shut up. He is holding hands with Loony Lovegood, but it's okay because it's just a dream. Luna stares up at the starry sky and breathes deeply and says, We're alive, Draco. We've survived.
Draco doesn't know how to tell her that he is just a ghost and she is just in his dreams and they're not actually here at all. So he doesn't.
Where's Harry? he asks instead.
She looks at him sadly.
*
One night, Harry comes home when Draco is asleep. Harry smiles down at him and whispers soothing words into Draco's ears (it’s okay, it's okay, I'm here) and brushes his hair into place. Harry slips under the covers and huddles right against Draco, bare chest against bare chest. His arm is around Draco protectively, his breath warm on Draco's neck. Draco wakes up smiling, reaching out for Harry.
But Harry is gone, without a trace. Draco wonders if he only dreamed that Harry was here; it was so hazy he's not sure that it actually happened.
*
Harry starts coming back more nights, curling against him, warm and comforting.
But he is never there in the morning.
Draco figures that Harry is probably busy, dealing with the press, his fans, the aftermath of what happened. That's why he is never there in the morning, he tells himself.
During the day, he closes his eyes and remembers Harry.
*
One night, Draco turns around and faces Harry. Why aren't you here during the day? he whispers sleepily. Harry looks all fuzzy, like he's slipping away, and Draco worries that this is just a dream, so he turns back around. Suddenly Harry isn't there, and the bed is cold, not warm at all.
Draco decides that Harry must have Apparated away.
*
Luna comes over and listens to him. He was here, he was here, Draco tells her excitedly. He sleeps with me in bed. This bed right here. Have you seen Harry? Where is Harry in the day?
Luna's forehead is wrinkled. It takes her a while to answer.
I can show you, Luna says finally, and she takes his head and leads him out the door. Draco is so excited he keeps telling Luna to hurry. He's finally going to see Harry! Hurry. Harry. Hurry. Harry..
*
Luna leads him to a graveyard, and Draco looks at her, puzzled, but she keeps walking ahead purposefully. Draco wants to turn and run but he can't, because his feet aren't letting him and Luna is still holding his hand firmly. Luna leads him through the graves to a large tombstone, a freshly-dug grave covered in flowers. Harry James Potter, the tombstone reads, just like Draco knew it would. He didn't want to believe that it is true. It's a nightmare but he's not dreaming.
Draco drops to his knees and pounds his fists against the ground. Angry, heaving sobs escape him.
Why, Harry? Whywhywhywhy?
When he has stopped shouting, Luna helps him up and hugs him tightly. She is warm and real, but curvy, soft, so different from Harry. Draco cries into her shoulder and Luna strokes his hair and whispers that Harry is dead and there's nothing they can do about it, but it's going to be alright.
How will it be alright? How will anything be alright ever again?
Because we're going to help each other through this, Draco, Luna says, and she kisses his forehead and looks into his eyes hopefully.
Her eyes are the wrong color, blue instead of green.
He nods slowly. He doesn't tell her that he feels dead.
Harry. Draco wants (needs) Harry.
Author: jazzyjello
Title: Nightmares
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Luna
Rating: PG-13
Summary: One day Harry isn't in their room.
Notes: Angst. I hope you like this, deora_mystic. Thanks to my beta, K.
Harry. Draco wants (needs) Harry.
One day Harry isn't in their room. It is only a cramped filing room, but it is their room at 1 o'clock. Draco stares at Harry's empty chair and wants to scream.
He runs through the house, looking for Harry, but all he can hear is the thudding of his footsteps (thud, thud, thud).
The whole of the Order headquarters is empty. Draco slows down and walks through the dusty, stuffy house, peering in doors and wondering where everyone is. A portrait on the wall explains that after all this time, they've finally found Voldemort. The Order left in the middle of the night for a surprise attack. This may be the Final Battle.
The Final Battle! Draco wants to scream. Why didn't they tell me? Why didn't they wake me up? Whywhywhy? I want to fight!
They probably just forgot, says the portrait kindly.
Draco scowls. He knows the real reason. Most of the Order doesn't trust him at all.
*
About a year ago, Draco came to the Order for protection against Voldemort and the other Death Eaters. The Death Eaters would kill Draco if they ever laid eyes on him, because Draco was the one who was too scared to kill Dumbledore. It was the shameful truth. His father was furious at him, no doubt, and Draco couldn't face any of them.
Draco knew that he had come here for all the wrong reasons, so he kept his head down and did as he was told.
The rest of the Order didn't tell him much about what was going on, but let him do petty tasks like housekeeping and filing. He couldn't even go out of the house on missions. Draco never complained, though he found himself miserable.
After a couple months, he became worn and thin. His eyes seemed emptier. He had gradually forgotten how to smile, how to cry, how to feel.
When he dreamed, it was always the same dream: Darkness, blood, screams. Voldemort finding him, murdering him, green light everywhere, and the last thing he always saw was Voldemort's red eyes.
He felt like he was already dead, that he had been murdered many times already.
*
That is, until Harry made him feel alive again. Until Harry made life worth living again.
And now Harry isn't here.
Now he's furious because they didn't even invite him to help fight in the Final Battle. I want to see Voldemort dead too! he screams into the now-empty house, and the portraits peer at him irritably.
Draco thinks that perhaps this is all a nightmare, so he goes back to sleep.
*
Harry still isn't there the next day. Draco goes to their room at 1 o'clock and stares at Harry's chair, remembering.
*
They had been stuck with filing duty at the same time. It was mindless work, a terribly dull task that everyone switched off doing in one-hour segments, because no one could take it any longer than that.
After an initial glare at the beginning - a flash of raw emotion, hatred - they always spent the rest of the time pretending to ignore each other.
But Draco was always aware of Harry's presence, even more than his own - Harry's shabby clothes, Harry's yawns, the dark circles under his eyes. He always looked exhausted. Draco didn't know what was keeping him together. The war had dragged on years after anyone thought it would, and it was taking a hard toll on Harry.
In the room, there was a tiny window covered in grime. It made whatever the weather was outside seem dreary and ugly.
*
Their hands had sometimes bumped into each other when they reached for the same cabinet. Harry's hands were warm, and whenever their hands touched they looked at each other, shocked at the contact.
Sometimes they talked, about nothing, about everything, lowered voices and ducked heads and rustling papers. Draco found himself looking forward to 1 o'clock.
*
Their first kiss had been angry, unexpected. They knocked into each other, bumping shoulder to chest, and suddenly Harry was right there, rough hands latching onto Draco's shoulders for balance, green eyes staring, centimeters away. And then Harry's mouth was on his, pressing fiercely. Harry Potter was kissing him and he was too shocked to move. Harry pulled away after a moment. He looked horrified, backing up, turning away.
Raw emotion was flooding Draco, and he felt light-headed, more alive than he'd felt in years. He knew that he needed to do that again.
*
Then everything sped up.
One moment Draco would be flipping through papers, and the next he'd be slammed against the wall, Harry's mouth against his. It was rough and harsh, mouths biting, teeth clacking, papers scattering onto the floor. Soft pleading noises escaped from Draco's mouth. His hands were too impatient to unbutton Harry's shirt so they just slid under it. Harry's skin was sweaty, hot, his stomach flat and firm. Draco's heart was beating out-of-control.
This was the only thing that made Draco feel anything at all.
*
Then everything slowed down.
Harry's hands would gently cup Draco's chin and pull him closer, looking into his eyes. Harry's eyes were full of an emotion that was different from the fierce lust from before. They kissed slowly, as though there wasn't any rush, as though time would stop and they could be like this forever, just memorizing each other's mouths, moaning softly, their hands in each other's hair.
They were just two teenage boys trying to figure out what love was.
*
Then everything stopped.
Harry stopped coming to their room. The Final Battle was going on and Draco was trapped up in the Order's headquarters. Alone.
Without Harry.
He wants (needs) Harry.
He doesn't really know how to cook but he heats up soup cans and eats. And stares out the grimy window in their room. And sleeps.
Only now in his nightmares it's not him getting killed by Voldemort, it's Harry. Harry screaming, Harry bleeding, and there's nothing Draco can do but watch helplessly.
He doesn't want to go outside because he's too scared of what the news will bring. He stays inside, curled in his old creaky bed, fully clothed. His room is a tiny room at the end of a long hallway, where they stuck him because there was nowhere else for him to go. It wasn't even a bedroom, more of a dark storage room they pushed a bed into. The rest of the Order didn't live here; they had their own places. Homes.
The nights are dead silent, but so are the days. Draco haunts the house like a ghost, drifting from room to room, not daring to make a sound, always staring but never seeing anything.
*
After some time, they come back. Some of them, but not all of them. They grab their papers and coats and give the Order Headquarters a final parting look before leaving for good. Voldemort's defeated, Lupin tells him, but Lupin looks defeated too. There's a tired look in his eyes, in all of their eyes. They're worn out. They've seen too much.
Draco mostly avoids them all - they scare him and he doesn't want to know details - and waits for Harry to come back. He wants (needs) Harry to come back.
(He is never coming back, whispers a voice in the back of his head, but he doesn't want to listen to it.)
Draco thinks that perhaps this is all a nightmare, so he goes back to sleep.
*
Draco has nightmares about Voldemort murdering Harry. He wakes up and it's in the papers' headlines - BOTH POTTER AND VOLDEMORT DEAD. He realizes that he is still dreaming and throws the paper away.
*
When Draco is awake, he rubs his eyes and wonders vaguely how much time is passing.
He dreams that Luna Lovegood comes and cleans up the house from time to time, scrubbing the floors and windows. She does his laundry and cooks him warm meals and watches him eat.
Luna smiles at him absently and tells him that everything is going to be alright. This is a very interesting dream, Draco tells her. Even the food tastes real. When is Harry coming home?
Luna shakes her head and looks at him pensively. She tells him that he needs to go outside and take a walk. She takes his hand, pulls him up, and leads him out the door. The night air is cool. The crickets are shockingly, obscenely loud and he wishes they'd shut up. He is holding hands with Loony Lovegood, but it's okay because it's just a dream. Luna stares up at the starry sky and breathes deeply and says, We're alive, Draco. We've survived.
Draco doesn't know how to tell her that he is just a ghost and she is just in his dreams and they're not actually here at all. So he doesn't.
Where's Harry? he asks instead.
She looks at him sadly.
*
One night, Harry comes home when Draco is asleep. Harry smiles down at him and whispers soothing words into Draco's ears (it’s okay, it's okay, I'm here) and brushes his hair into place. Harry slips under the covers and huddles right against Draco, bare chest against bare chest. His arm is around Draco protectively, his breath warm on Draco's neck. Draco wakes up smiling, reaching out for Harry.
But Harry is gone, without a trace. Draco wonders if he only dreamed that Harry was here; it was so hazy he's not sure that it actually happened.
*
Harry starts coming back more nights, curling against him, warm and comforting.
But he is never there in the morning.
Draco figures that Harry is probably busy, dealing with the press, his fans, the aftermath of what happened. That's why he is never there in the morning, he tells himself.
During the day, he closes his eyes and remembers Harry.
*
One night, Draco turns around and faces Harry. Why aren't you here during the day? he whispers sleepily. Harry looks all fuzzy, like he's slipping away, and Draco worries that this is just a dream, so he turns back around. Suddenly Harry isn't there, and the bed is cold, not warm at all.
Draco decides that Harry must have Apparated away.
*
Luna comes over and listens to him. He was here, he was here, Draco tells her excitedly. He sleeps with me in bed. This bed right here. Have you seen Harry? Where is Harry in the day?
Luna's forehead is wrinkled. It takes her a while to answer.
I can show you, Luna says finally, and she takes his head and leads him out the door. Draco is so excited he keeps telling Luna to hurry. He's finally going to see Harry! Hurry. Harry. Hurry. Harry..
*
Luna leads him to a graveyard, and Draco looks at her, puzzled, but she keeps walking ahead purposefully. Draco wants to turn and run but he can't, because his feet aren't letting him and Luna is still holding his hand firmly. Luna leads him through the graves to a large tombstone, a freshly-dug grave covered in flowers. Harry James Potter, the tombstone reads, just like Draco knew it would. He didn't want to believe that it is true. It's a nightmare but he's not dreaming.
Draco drops to his knees and pounds his fists against the ground. Angry, heaving sobs escape him.
Why, Harry? Whywhywhywhy?
When he has stopped shouting, Luna helps him up and hugs him tightly. She is warm and real, but curvy, soft, so different from Harry. Draco cries into her shoulder and Luna strokes his hair and whispers that Harry is dead and there's nothing they can do about it, but it's going to be alright.
How will it be alright? How will anything be alright ever again?
Because we're going to help each other through this, Draco, Luna says, and she kisses his forehead and looks into his eyes hopefully.
Her eyes are the wrong color, blue instead of green.
He nods slowly. He doesn't tell her that he feels dead.
Harry. Draco wants (needs) Harry.