Bitter Harvest

"Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver."

Sophocles

In the dim light, Harry could just make out his form. There was a glimmer of silver, a flash of light as the lithe, young man shifted on the chaise.

Harry walked closer, intent on drawing his young companion out of solitude and melancholy. As he drew nearer, he could see the dull reflection of light on a wine goblet-half full of a dark substance that seemed to absorb the moon's glow. The man tipped the goblet to his lips, swirled it contemplatively.

Harry settled down beside his fair-haired friend. He lit a cigarette and waited quietly, drawing in the bitter taste of nicotine and waiting for this pale person to finish his drink.

The goblet was placed on the table softly and the young man stood, brushing his robes back into place. "I've disturbed you."

"No. No, you didn't disturb me Draco."

Draco nodded, reached down to brush his fingers against the back of the couch. "It's three in the morning. If I haven't disturbed you, what in Merlin's name are you doing up?"

"Thinking." The darker of the two smiled wearily and ran a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes were luminescent in the darkness. "Same as you, I imagine."

"Go to bed," Draco murmured, touching the top of Harry's head with restrained affection.

Harry looked up at Draco, absorbed the pallor of his skin and the obvious signs of sleep deprivation. "He's gone. He's gone and still he controls you."

"He was my father," Draco replied, his voice flat.

"Yes, and a man that offered you nothing more than a choice of death by his own hand or by that of the Ministry's."

Harry could see the faintest gleam of tears in Draco's eyes, but they were gone an instant later. "Proper conduct for a Malfoy includes never abandoning family." Draco rubbed his temple. "My father always did say I made a terrible Malfoy."

Harry frowned and grabbed one of Draco's hands. "He would have killed you. Fuck, he was going to kill you." He squeezed his fingers tightly. "That's hardly 'never abandoning family', Draco."

Draco leaned against him for a moment, before withdrawing and crossing to an open window. He looked out into the pre-dawn sky.

"I've never seen my mother so devastated. She has no idea what to do without him."

"And you," Harry whispered, fingers grazing Draco's spine, "you've fared little better. She would be doubly devastated if you were to allow yourself to drift away." He pressed his fingers against the knots in Draco's lower back. "As would I," he added softly.

Draco's head dipped low and Harry could feel his body shake. "All my life, all I ever wanted to do was please him." He sunk, and Harry caught him before he hit the floor.

"Ssh," he murmured. "Don't think so hard. You have disappointed no one."

Draco shivered and Harry could feel his tears seep into the front of his robes.

"You are an admirable man," Harry whispered against his ear.

"Admirable men do not kill their fathers."