Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy - Screaming Himself Hoarse - One Shot - PG-13
Title: Screaming Himself Hoarse
Author: screaminglungs
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2045
Summary: Harry comes home to crawl into bed with his significant other, only to walk into chaos.
Author's Note: Beta read by the lovely kcstories
“Harry, can you hear me?”
Harry’s head was in a fog. He wasn’t sure where he was or who was talking to him, but he attempted to lift his head and acknowledge the softly spoken words. It was difficult for him to focus on anything but the feeling of the uncomfortable St. Mungos chair digging him in the side. A hand squeezed his and he finally met the eyes of the person attempting to get his attention.
Tonks looked down at him; she looked pale, her face, and even her hair.
“Harry, we searched all over the house. There was no sign of him, and the chief Auror on duty said the fire had burned hot for a long time and it’s possible that…”
Harry flinched and turned away from her, snatching his hand back from hers. He didn’t want to hear any more.
Draco.
“I’m sorry, Harry. If he was sleeping, there would have been nothing he could have done. He probably didn’t even wake up, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have felt…”
“Please stop.” Harry’s voice cracked and he closed his eyes against the overly bright hospital lighting. He sounded so unlike himself, it took him a moment to register that he had spoken. He sounded hoarse and broken, which wasn’t surprising. He had been screaming for hours, or at least it had felt that long before anyone had come and found him.
“I’m sorry.”
Harry nodded; he was sorry too.
“Shall I call Hermione and Ron?”
As if they had heard her, they suddenly appeared in the doorway, stopping for a second to look at their friend before rushing forward and enveloping him in their familiar protective embrace.
“Sorry it took us so long to get here. We had to take the baby to Molly’s and of course she asked a lot of questions.” Hermione apologised to Harry, though he barely registered what she was saying.
Oh god, Draco.
“How could this have happened?” Ron was asking Tonks. He sounded angry and he didn’t even like Draco.
Hermione sat next to Harry, her fingers linked tightly with his, her hand squeezing his. Her other hand was smoothing hair back from his face, and she made soothing noises as if Harry was one of her children. He knew she didn’t even realise she was doing it.
“We think it was several people. There were numerous scorch marks around the outside of the house; probably Incendio spells, but of a more powerful variety. We’re working on it, of course,” Tonks explained.
“What about the wards that Harry and your Auror department set up? How could they have gotten past those?” Ron growled.
“Ron, leave her alone. She didn’t do this. It’s not her fault,” Hermione soothed and finally, Ron took a seat on the other side of Harry grasping his hand tightly in his own larger one.
“Harry, we’re here for you, alright? We’ll find out who did this,” Ron promised and Harry just nodded. He couldn’t take in a single thing of was being said to him.
Draco.
“Maybe someone should go to the Manor, and tell Draco’s mother,” Ron offered and Harry vaguely comprehended the murmurings of approval around him.
“No,” Harry choked out; his throat was raw. “Narcissa is in France.”
“Oh well, maybe this should wait until the morning. It’s not the kind of thing you tell someone by owl post,” Hermione said softly.
“Harry, maybe you should come home with us,” Hermione whispered and Harry looked at her. His eyes were dull, like the spark that had once been inside them had been quenched along with the fire at his home.
Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat. In all the years they had been friends she had never seen Harry look more lost. She squeezed his hand more tightly. She knew she could never understand how he was feeling. He had lost his home and his life all in one fell swoop.
Ron wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders and helped him to his feet. “Are you ready to go, mate?” Ron whispered to him and once again Harry nodded absently.
“We’ll take him home, Tonks. You’ll let us know as soon as you know more, right? Firecall us in the morning. We’ll be in for most of the day, I’m sure,” Ron said softly and together, he and Hermione steered Harry out of the room.
*
Ron had side-longed Harry into their living room and Hermione had followed to find them sitting on the couch, Ron looking at Harry with concern while their friend stared into space. Hermione quietly took off her cloak and hung it on the coat rack near the front door of their modest home.
“Harry, is there anything we can do?” Ron asked quietly, his voice full of sorrow. It was true that he had never gotten along with Draco, but he had stopped hating him long ago, stopped thinking of him as competition for Harry’s attention, and the last few times they had seen him they had actually managed to talk without any snide comments. Ron waited a while for Harry’s response and wasn’t sure he would even get one.
“I’d really like to get some sleep. It’s late. Isn’t it late?”
“It’s half past three in the morning,” Hermione answered as she joined them on the sofa.
Harry looked at her sharply. It had been four hours since he’d left their house, after having dinner there. Their wine glasses still sat on the coffee table.
Draco hadn’t been able to come. He’d had to work late and Harry had told him he would see him at home, but instead of coming home to a quiet house, Harry had Apparated into a pandemonium.
Landing in the front garden, he found his house alight. Every window was glowing with flames, and smoke billowed from the modest building. He stood there for a moment, staring in shock, and not before a section of their thatched roof collapsed, was he finally snapped out of his stupor.
He tried to fight his way into the house through the flames. He screamed Draco’s name, over and over again, but to no avail.
Within moments, Aurors Apparated onto the lawn around him. Strong arms were wrapped around his chest and held him back when he tried to enter the house once more. He struggled as best he could, but finally collapsed against the chest behind him in exhaustion, crying out at his house and life as they burned around him while he could do nothing but look on helplessly.
“Draco’s in there! Draco’s in there!” He ranted over and over but it seemed like nobody around him was listening.
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry,” Kingsley Shacklebolt whispered into his ear, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around him.
“Draco, Draco,” Harry continued to chant, as he searched the burning windows wishing he could see him there, wishing none of this was happening.
After everything, why was this happening now?
“Harry?” Hermione’s voice brought him back to the present and he looked up into her concerned eyes.
“I just need some sleep,” Harry whispered.
The three friends trudged up the stairs; Hermione leading the way as Ron followed behind, a comforting hand on the small of Harry’s back.
“Harry, you can sleep in our bed with us if you want?” Hermione asked softly, not sure if it was appropriate to offer the small comfort they had provided one another when they were teenagers. It had been the only comfort they’d had when they’d slept in freezing tents between Death Eater raids and Horcrux searches. It was what they had always done to deal with death all around them.
Harry nodded slowly and Ron patted him on the shoulder as they made their way to the bedroom. Ron found Harry some pyjama bottoms and ushered him towards the bathroom as the sound of someone pounding on the door downstairs startled them.
Ron growled in annoyance. No doubt some overzealous reporter had already heard about what had transpired and had come to get the first quote from the broken hero.
“You two get changed and I’ll get rid of whoever’s there,” Ron whispered softly and disappeared from the room.
Ron trudged down the stairs. He felt like he had been awake for days and felt absolutely bone weary. He had no idea how Harry was still standing. If that had been Hermione lost, well, that didn’t bear thinking about, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to breathe, let alone stand and walk. He was so tired, he almost tripped down the last step and whoever was at the front door was once again pounding against it before Ron managed to right himself.
“Alright, alright, I’m bloody coming!” Ron snapped in annoyance, sure that whoever was there could hear him.
Finally opening the door, Ron stood there and stared at their visitor.
“Where is he? Is he here?”
“Draco?”
“Ron, is Harry here?”
Ron nodded dumbly and barely registered that Draco slipped past him and made for the stairs.
“Harry! Harry!” Draco shouted as he took the stairs two at a time, desperate to see his partner.
Ron finally shut the door and followed the blond up the stairs just as Harry appeared on the landing, wide eyes staring at what he was sure was an apparition.
“Draco?” He whispered hoarsely.
“Harry? The house? What happened to our house?”
“Draco?” Harry stepped forward tentatively and reached up to touch Draco’s face.
“Harry, are you alright?”
“Where have you been?” Harry whispered as he pushed white hair from Draco’s face.
“I was at the Manor. Mother owled me to say she was home and had a present for us both and would appreciate it if I stopped by. I knew you’d be here and I finished work early. I didn’t want to drop by here unannounced and so I went to mother’s. I stayed quite late. We shared some wine and before I knew it, it was almost two in the morning. I sent you an owl to say I would stay at the Manor and it just came back unanswered and one of Frederick’s wings was scorched. I went home and, oh god, the house, Harry; our house!” Draco sucked in a painful breath.
“I thought you were in the house,” Harry choked out. His face was white and his eyes were dark and glistening.
“Oh god, Harry.” Draco flung himself at Harry who wasn’t quite ready for the extra weight and sent them both flying back into the wall.
“I thought you were dead, I thought you were dead,” Harry began chanting as he clung to Draco and they slipped into a pile on the floor.
Hermione and Ron exchanged knowing looks over the pile of bodies on the floor and Ron stepped over them, informing Harry and Draco that the spare bedroom was available if they wanted it, as he and Hermione shut themselves into their own bedroom.
“Oh god, Harry, what you must have thought, oh god, Harry,” Draco whispered breathlessly between kisses after he and Harry had finally made it to the spare bedroom. It had taken a while to coax Harry off of the floor and he was still clinging to Draco like a limpet seeking heat.
“I thought you were gone; I don’t know what I would have done,” Harry whispered back into the darkness as they settled comfortably around one another in the large, comfortable bed.
“I know, me too, me too. When I got there and saw the house like that, all those scorch marks, I thought they’d killed you. I couldn’t find you anywhere.” Draco sobbed and buried his face in Harry’s neck, wrapping his arms around his lover just as desperately as Harry had done. It had finally sunk in that they both could have been killed tonight.
“I love you.” Harry’s voice cracked and he ran his hand through Draco’s soft blond hair.
There would be much to sort out when the morning came; they had nowhere to live and no possessions, but in that moment in that bedroom they felt like the two luckiest people alive, and as Harry drifted off to sleep he clung to Draco a little tighter.
Author: screaminglungs
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2045
Summary: Harry comes home to crawl into bed with his significant other, only to walk into chaos.
Author's Note: Beta read by the lovely kcstories
“Harry, can you hear me?”
Harry’s head was in a fog. He wasn’t sure where he was or who was talking to him, but he attempted to lift his head and acknowledge the softly spoken words. It was difficult for him to focus on anything but the feeling of the uncomfortable St. Mungos chair digging him in the side. A hand squeezed his and he finally met the eyes of the person attempting to get his attention.
Tonks looked down at him; she looked pale, her face, and even her hair.
“Harry, we searched all over the house. There was no sign of him, and the chief Auror on duty said the fire had burned hot for a long time and it’s possible that…”
Harry flinched and turned away from her, snatching his hand back from hers. He didn’t want to hear any more.
Draco.
“I’m sorry, Harry. If he was sleeping, there would have been nothing he could have done. He probably didn’t even wake up, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have felt…”
“Please stop.” Harry’s voice cracked and he closed his eyes against the overly bright hospital lighting. He sounded so unlike himself, it took him a moment to register that he had spoken. He sounded hoarse and broken, which wasn’t surprising. He had been screaming for hours, or at least it had felt that long before anyone had come and found him.
“I’m sorry.”
Harry nodded; he was sorry too.
“Shall I call Hermione and Ron?”
As if they had heard her, they suddenly appeared in the doorway, stopping for a second to look at their friend before rushing forward and enveloping him in their familiar protective embrace.
“Sorry it took us so long to get here. We had to take the baby to Molly’s and of course she asked a lot of questions.” Hermione apologised to Harry, though he barely registered what she was saying.
Oh god, Draco.
“How could this have happened?” Ron was asking Tonks. He sounded angry and he didn’t even like Draco.
Hermione sat next to Harry, her fingers linked tightly with his, her hand squeezing his. Her other hand was smoothing hair back from his face, and she made soothing noises as if Harry was one of her children. He knew she didn’t even realise she was doing it.
“We think it was several people. There were numerous scorch marks around the outside of the house; probably Incendio spells, but of a more powerful variety. We’re working on it, of course,” Tonks explained.
“What about the wards that Harry and your Auror department set up? How could they have gotten past those?” Ron growled.
“Ron, leave her alone. She didn’t do this. It’s not her fault,” Hermione soothed and finally, Ron took a seat on the other side of Harry grasping his hand tightly in his own larger one.
“Harry, we’re here for you, alright? We’ll find out who did this,” Ron promised and Harry just nodded. He couldn’t take in a single thing of was being said to him.
Draco.
“Maybe someone should go to the Manor, and tell Draco’s mother,” Ron offered and Harry vaguely comprehended the murmurings of approval around him.
“No,” Harry choked out; his throat was raw. “Narcissa is in France.”
“Oh well, maybe this should wait until the morning. It’s not the kind of thing you tell someone by owl post,” Hermione said softly.
“Harry, maybe you should come home with us,” Hermione whispered and Harry looked at her. His eyes were dull, like the spark that had once been inside them had been quenched along with the fire at his home.
Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat. In all the years they had been friends she had never seen Harry look more lost. She squeezed his hand more tightly. She knew she could never understand how he was feeling. He had lost his home and his life all in one fell swoop.
Ron wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders and helped him to his feet. “Are you ready to go, mate?” Ron whispered to him and once again Harry nodded absently.
“We’ll take him home, Tonks. You’ll let us know as soon as you know more, right? Firecall us in the morning. We’ll be in for most of the day, I’m sure,” Ron said softly and together, he and Hermione steered Harry out of the room.
*
Ron had side-longed Harry into their living room and Hermione had followed to find them sitting on the couch, Ron looking at Harry with concern while their friend stared into space. Hermione quietly took off her cloak and hung it on the coat rack near the front door of their modest home.
“Harry, is there anything we can do?” Ron asked quietly, his voice full of sorrow. It was true that he had never gotten along with Draco, but he had stopped hating him long ago, stopped thinking of him as competition for Harry’s attention, and the last few times they had seen him they had actually managed to talk without any snide comments. Ron waited a while for Harry’s response and wasn’t sure he would even get one.
“I’d really like to get some sleep. It’s late. Isn’t it late?”
“It’s half past three in the morning,” Hermione answered as she joined them on the sofa.
Harry looked at her sharply. It had been four hours since he’d left their house, after having dinner there. Their wine glasses still sat on the coffee table.
Draco hadn’t been able to come. He’d had to work late and Harry had told him he would see him at home, but instead of coming home to a quiet house, Harry had Apparated into a pandemonium.
Landing in the front garden, he found his house alight. Every window was glowing with flames, and smoke billowed from the modest building. He stood there for a moment, staring in shock, and not before a section of their thatched roof collapsed, was he finally snapped out of his stupor.
He tried to fight his way into the house through the flames. He screamed Draco’s name, over and over again, but to no avail.
Within moments, Aurors Apparated onto the lawn around him. Strong arms were wrapped around his chest and held him back when he tried to enter the house once more. He struggled as best he could, but finally collapsed against the chest behind him in exhaustion, crying out at his house and life as they burned around him while he could do nothing but look on helplessly.
“Draco’s in there! Draco’s in there!” He ranted over and over but it seemed like nobody around him was listening.
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry,” Kingsley Shacklebolt whispered into his ear, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around him.
“Draco, Draco,” Harry continued to chant, as he searched the burning windows wishing he could see him there, wishing none of this was happening.
After everything, why was this happening now?
“Harry?” Hermione’s voice brought him back to the present and he looked up into her concerned eyes.
“I just need some sleep,” Harry whispered.
The three friends trudged up the stairs; Hermione leading the way as Ron followed behind, a comforting hand on the small of Harry’s back.
“Harry, you can sleep in our bed with us if you want?” Hermione asked softly, not sure if it was appropriate to offer the small comfort they had provided one another when they were teenagers. It had been the only comfort they’d had when they’d slept in freezing tents between Death Eater raids and Horcrux searches. It was what they had always done to deal with death all around them.
Harry nodded slowly and Ron patted him on the shoulder as they made their way to the bedroom. Ron found Harry some pyjama bottoms and ushered him towards the bathroom as the sound of someone pounding on the door downstairs startled them.
Ron growled in annoyance. No doubt some overzealous reporter had already heard about what had transpired and had come to get the first quote from the broken hero.
“You two get changed and I’ll get rid of whoever’s there,” Ron whispered softly and disappeared from the room.
Ron trudged down the stairs. He felt like he had been awake for days and felt absolutely bone weary. He had no idea how Harry was still standing. If that had been Hermione lost, well, that didn’t bear thinking about, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to breathe, let alone stand and walk. He was so tired, he almost tripped down the last step and whoever was at the front door was once again pounding against it before Ron managed to right himself.
“Alright, alright, I’m bloody coming!” Ron snapped in annoyance, sure that whoever was there could hear him.
Finally opening the door, Ron stood there and stared at their visitor.
“Where is he? Is he here?”
“Draco?”
“Ron, is Harry here?”
Ron nodded dumbly and barely registered that Draco slipped past him and made for the stairs.
“Harry! Harry!” Draco shouted as he took the stairs two at a time, desperate to see his partner.
Ron finally shut the door and followed the blond up the stairs just as Harry appeared on the landing, wide eyes staring at what he was sure was an apparition.
“Draco?” He whispered hoarsely.
“Harry? The house? What happened to our house?”
“Draco?” Harry stepped forward tentatively and reached up to touch Draco’s face.
“Harry, are you alright?”
“Where have you been?” Harry whispered as he pushed white hair from Draco’s face.
“I was at the Manor. Mother owled me to say she was home and had a present for us both and would appreciate it if I stopped by. I knew you’d be here and I finished work early. I didn’t want to drop by here unannounced and so I went to mother’s. I stayed quite late. We shared some wine and before I knew it, it was almost two in the morning. I sent you an owl to say I would stay at the Manor and it just came back unanswered and one of Frederick’s wings was scorched. I went home and, oh god, the house, Harry; our house!” Draco sucked in a painful breath.
“I thought you were in the house,” Harry choked out. His face was white and his eyes were dark and glistening.
“Oh god, Harry.” Draco flung himself at Harry who wasn’t quite ready for the extra weight and sent them both flying back into the wall.
“I thought you were dead, I thought you were dead,” Harry began chanting as he clung to Draco and they slipped into a pile on the floor.
Hermione and Ron exchanged knowing looks over the pile of bodies on the floor and Ron stepped over them, informing Harry and Draco that the spare bedroom was available if they wanted it, as he and Hermione shut themselves into their own bedroom.
“Oh god, Harry, what you must have thought, oh god, Harry,” Draco whispered breathlessly between kisses after he and Harry had finally made it to the spare bedroom. It had taken a while to coax Harry off of the floor and he was still clinging to Draco like a limpet seeking heat.
“I thought you were gone; I don’t know what I would have done,” Harry whispered back into the darkness as they settled comfortably around one another in the large, comfortable bed.
“I know, me too, me too. When I got there and saw the house like that, all those scorch marks, I thought they’d killed you. I couldn’t find you anywhere.” Draco sobbed and buried his face in Harry’s neck, wrapping his arms around his lover just as desperately as Harry had done. It had finally sunk in that they both could have been killed tonight.
“I love you.” Harry’s voice cracked and he ran his hand through Draco’s soft blond hair.
There would be much to sort out when the morning came; they had nowhere to live and no possessions, but in that moment in that bedroom they felt like the two luckiest people alive, and as Harry drifted off to sleep he clung to Draco a little tighter.