The Depths of Winter

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The Depths of Winter

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Chapter eighteen

Fly away

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The next few days passed in more busy chaos for Harry. Classes during the days, but they weren't fun anymore. It was only work and his motivation was lessening with every day that passed. He was seriously considering dropping out, so that he could spend his time writing his book and perhaps work instead.

Myra and Darius were both buried in class work with essays that had to be written and books needing to be read. Harry only saw them briefly between classes, but even then Myra usually had her nose in a book, busily studying. Darius, although not as serious about his schoolwork as Myra, spent almost as many hours on it. Harry wondered if it was to impress Myra.

In the late afternoon, Harry got home and talked to the construction workers that were building the pool, to check on the progress. It was proceeding nicely, as planned.

Then he went back inside and Draco usually had cooked dinner; it was something for him to spend his time on. They ate dinner in silence, as Harry was too tired to talk. He got the feeling that Draco desperately wanted to converse, but he couldn't gather the energy to do so. Halfway through the week, he longed for the weekend. After dinner, he went into his room and closed the door. He sat down by his computer and let his fingers run over the keyboard, weaving a story on the screen, until he was so tired that his eyes crossed. Then he realised he hadn't studied enough and he took out his books. He normally fell asleep on the books, by the desk, after fifteen minutes or so.

The weekend was booked in and full; Harry had two papers to write due the following week and another two books to finish. He took Draco out to dinner on Saturday, not knowing if the blond had been out of the house at all in the last five days.

"Do you want to walk or would you like to take a taxi?" Harry asked, massaging his temples to make the headache he'd gotten when he studied go away.

"If you're up to walking, I would enjoy being outside for a little," Draco said, watching Harry closely with what Harry thought might be concern in his eyes. "But only if you're up for it."

Harry nodded. "A bit of fresh air will be good for me," he said.

He packed away his books in his room and they both grabbed their jackets and shoes and headed out. Their pace towards the restaurant was slow and quiet. Harry seemed far away.

The restaurant was an Italian place that served mostly pizza and pasta. They ordered and had their food twenty minutes later. Draco watched Harry as he picked in his food, barely eating.

"Harry, are you sick?" he asked.

Harry looked up, pulled from his thoughts. "What? No, I'm not," he said. "I'm just tired. Lots to do."

Draco nodded slowly and continued with his meal. Harry's thoughts went back to all the things he had to do the next day, before he went back to class on Monday. Class work, things for the house - calling Hermione perhaps? The work would continue on the pool; Harry wanted it done as soon as possible, so he paid the workers extra to carry on during the weekends. His book needed to be written. He had closer to a hundred pages by now and he felt the pressure on him. He'd left the old idea completely and was going with this new one; the new one that had flowed from his fingers so easily from the beginning but now seemed almost as hard as the other one to write.

Draco tried to engage him in conversation again, but he couldn't keep his mind on one thing for very long; his thoughts kept drifting, stressing him and making him irritable. Finally they left the restaurant, full, but both very quiet.

Sunday came and passed; suddenly it was Monday and then came Tuesday. Harry went to the university while Draco watched him silently in the mornings and later when he came home. He'd made dinner again and Harry devoured it, his nose buried in a book the whole time. He had to continue to study. He was tired, but pushed it back.

He barely noticed Draco's attempts in getting him to talk.

He didn't see the worry on Draco's face when everything he said passed Harry completely.

Harry put the dishes away, his mind elsewhere. It drifted from his homework to his book and he disappeared into his room as soon as he could. He didn't say anything at all to Draco; didn't see the blond man's face fall as the door shut behind him yet again, leaving Draco out and alone.

Late that night, Harry still sat in his room by his computer, trying to type up the continuation of his story. His fingers just didn't seem to be with him, though, and his mind most certainly wasn't. It kept travelling away, to class work, to Myra and Darius, to-- Draco. Now that he didn't have the other man before him, he couldn't help but think about him. They were not any truly coherent thoughts; more like memories of what they had shared in the last two and a half months. Had it really not been more?

A motorcycle entered the intersection and the crash could not be avoided.

That had been the start of it, the re-introduction of his school nemesis into his life and, he had to admit, the first step towards healing.

"I do believe you saved his life."

"Do I know you?"

They knew each other, all right. And Draco - he'd been 'Malfoy' back then of course - had recognized him within moments, despite the lack of a scar and familiar round glasses.

"Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?"

He had. But then, when had they ever listened to the others' wishes?

"Malfoy, what do you need to get well again?" Harry asked, voice urgent.

"A 'ealer, 'f course..."

There had been blind panic for him at those words. A feeling of fright; he didn't want to go back to the magical world.

"This is where you live? What a dump."

Had he ever expected anything but a sneer at anything that belonged to his life?

A comatose Draco never responding...

Waking up, living again. Harry had never understood why it had pained him so to see Draco like that; he still didn't. He only knew that it had seemed so wrong.

He recalled a morning on the couch in Darius' apartment, when the touches suddenly seemed so-- electric. He remembered his own breaking down, crying on Draco's shoulder with soft words whispered in his ear, warm hands stroking his cheeks.

He was only just getting into the most recent memories when he heard a sound and his train of thought was broken. He stayed completely silent, listening to the night, but didn't hear anything. It was well past two in the morning and he should have been in bed by now. His head ached from the lack of sleep.

He was about to get up when he heard the sound again.

"I've flown too high on borrowed wings..."

It was - someone was singing. Draco was singing.

Getting up quietly, Harry left his room, careful not to step on the wood that he knew creaked. Draco was not in his room; the door was open and the moonlight filtered in through the window.

"Beyond the clouds and where the angels sings..."

Instead, Harry found Draco in the living room, by the huge windows that showed their garden.

"In a sky containing no one but me..."

Draco's voice was soft, breaking at times. The rhythm was slow, gentle like the wind's breeze.

"Up there's all empty and down there's the sea..."

Harry found himself mesmerised by the way the moonlight made Draco's hair glow softly and the way his skin shone. He looked like an angel, or a sculpture.

"No one here but me."

Draco's voice broke with the last word.

Harry moved and to his horror, he heard the wood below him give a slight squeak. Harry held his breath, wondering if Draco had heard him. He hoped not; he wanted to hear more, see more. Draco was fascinating, just to watch.

And Draco did continue, his voice filled with emotions that Harry didn't recognize, couldn't place.

"I got to this place, arrived at last - in front there's the future, right back there's the past... Everything's moving so fast," he sang and Harry closed his eyes briefly, but he opened them again, not wanting to miss so much as one moment of this as he doubted he'd ever get the chance to see it again. Draco unguarded, his walls completely down, his soul naked and exposed. His voice reached Harry's heart like nothing had ever done before.

"The present like I've never seen it before, is this the right place to stay?"

Draco had closed his eyes, his arms tightly hugging his torso. Harry wondered how Draco would react if he went over and placed his arms around the other man.

It wasn't a surprising thought. It wasn't unexpected. It was what Harry knew was coming for them - he only hoped Draco was all right enough to accept it. Harry had fallen quite deeply for the blond man already.

The head ache seemed to have vanished as he slowly moved forward, wishing for Draco's silent grace rather than his own loud clumsiness.

"Please my wings, fly me away..."

Draco didn't seem to hear him. Harry wondered how it was possible - he was sure that the hammering of his heart could be heard from the other side of the room; it felt like it was beating a hole through his chest.

Draco closed his eyes. He looked like an angel in the blue moonlight - or perhaps he resembled a marble statue. It looked entrancing - unearthly. Harry wondered if he was right, if he was allowed, to disturb such amazing beauty.

Then he was suddenly up behind Draco. He raised a shaking hand and placed it on the pale shoulder. Draco jumped and whirled around, his eyes wide with fright and shock.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Draco's mouth was open; he was breathing heavily. "Don't-- you--" he began, but then blinked slowly and said, with a small shake of his head, "It's okay."

Silence spread. Harry's hand remained on Draco's shoulder and his heart kept beating rapidly against his chest. He swallowed nervously. Was it just him or was the air electric?

Draco turned back to look out the window. Harry placed his other hand on Draco's other shoulder and got the idea to start massaging. As soon as he did, Draco let out a moan. Harry stopped abruptly, afraid he'd done something wrong.

"No, no," Draco mumbled, "continue."

Harry smiled slightly and did as he was asked. He let his hands run slowly over Draco's tense shoulders, digging the heels of his hands into Draco's muscles, feeling the knots there. He kneaded patiently, feeling Draco relax, bit by bit, under his ministrations. Every now and then, Draco let out a moan.

"Yes, that's-- oh--"

Becoming braver, Harry's hands began running down Draco's arms and back, a bit further each time, letting Draco get used to the idea of Harry's hands on his body. He didn't quite seem to mind.

Once Harry was done with Draco's shoulders, he moved around and stood before Draco. He picked Draco's right hand up and began massaging his palm. Draco's eyes snapped open as he began, but then slowly shut again because Harry was quite good at giving massages.

"Mm," Draco mumbled.

As Draco relaxed again, Harry brought Draco's fingers up to his lips. Ever so slowly, he placed a kiss on the inside of Draco's hand.

"Harry," Draco breathed, eyes snapping open again. "What are you--"

"Shh," Harry said, trying to sound cool and self-assured when he was a nervous wreck inside.

"But--"

Then Harry leaned in and placed a kiss on Draco's lips. It was just a gentle pressing against each other, getting a first taste of the other. Harry's heart beat even quicker, starting to break when Draco began to pull away, but then mending and expanding when Draco leaned in again and began responding to Harry. The kiss was slow and sweet, with a promise of more, much more, in the future. For now, they were content in just finding that they could have each other.

"But nothing," Harry whispered, his forehead resting against Draco's, when they finally pulled away.

"You-- we--" Draco said, his eyes wide and his lips slightly redder than usual.

"Yes," Harry said, smiling. "We."

Then Draco finally smiled back at him and Harry felt his heart melting.

"Don't fly away," Harry whispered to him, cupping Draco's face in his hands.

Draco looked down, the long lashes shadowing his cheeks. When he looked up again, he said, his voice close to breaking, "I'll try not to."

"Good enough," Harry said. "Now, how about a bed?"

Draco smiled slightly and nodded.

*

Wednesday morning dawned, the sun hidden behind a layer of clouds. It looked damp outside, the grass wet and the air humid.

Harry woke up, his throat feeling dry and awful and his body aching. He forced himself out of bed, slightly shaky as he made his way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, he felt refreshed and better and he hurried out to the kitchen to eat. He knew he had class in a little while. He tried to be quiet as to not wake Draco - he wanted badly to see him but knew Draco needed sleep.

His imagination quickly supplied him with pictures of Draco sleeping. Eyes closed of course, mouth slightly open, his face relaxed and younger-looking, blond hair falling down over his forehead and his pale body hidden beneath the covers. Harry smiled at the image and fought the urge to go in and wake him up, just to get a morning-snog in.

Waking from his daydreaming, he realised that he was standing with a cup of coffee in his hands and almost dozing off. He quickly put the cup away, went to brush his teeth and left the house. He'd taken the bus to the university every morning since moving to the house and found he missed the walk he was used to, but then there was not much to do about it as it would take closer to forty-five minutes for him to walk to the university from the house.

During that bus ride, Harry sat and remembered the night before. He'd helped Draco back to his room and they'd kissed some more until both Harry and Draco were half asleep. Harry had returned to his own room. They hadn't spoken of it, but sleeping together seemed too far a step to take so soon after this new development.

Myra and Darius greeted him with their usual energy when he arrived at the university and Darius launched into telling them both about the date he'd been on the night before. Harry kept quiet about his and Draco's new relationship although he saw Myra peer curiously at him.

Harry also wondered if Myra noticed that despite Darius' grins, the happiness was really lacking.

*

Arriving home that night, Harry was excited to see Draco again. He was nervous - how were they going to act now? Yet at the same time, Harry knew, somehow, that it would be all right. They would be fine. It would need work, their relationship, but their relationship had always needed work, no matter what level it was at.

He unlocked the door and closed it quietly behind himself. He took his jacket and his shoes off and walked into the house. Draco was not by the TV, nor in the kitchen. Harry looked into their rooms but found both empty. Both bathrooms were empty as well.

Breathing hitching slightly at the thought of something having happened, Harry hurried through the house to the garage and threw the door open.

Two men looked up; the construction workers Harry had hired.

"Hey," one of them said.

Harry didn't have time for greetings. "Have you seen Draco?"

Both men shook their heads. "Haven't seen 'im since this morning," the one who had greeted him said.

"Did he say anything?" Harry pressed on. In his mind flashed pictures of Draco; hurt and lying on a street somewhere; kidnapped and held against his will by some madman; in the hospital, burns over his body--

Negative headshakes again. "No, nothin'. Why? 's he missing?"

"I-- I don't know yet," Harry said, his heart racing as the images came faster and faster before his eyes.

"Well, we're done here," the man said, standing up and brushing his pants off. "We'll be back again tomorrow. Around eight thirty, as always."

Harry nodded, not registering a word. He didn't care if they were back at eight thirty the next day. He only wanted to know where Draco was.

He turned and closed the door to the would-be-pool area, breathing quickly. He began coughing and he had to hold against the wall for support as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

Straightening up again, he headed for the phone. He hit the quick-dial for Myra.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hi, Myra, it's Harry."

"Hey Harry--" she began but he interrupted her.

"Have you seen Draco?"

On her end of the phone, she frowned. "No, of course not," she said. "I haven't been home from Uni for more than half an hour. Why? Is there a problem?"

"N-no, I just-- he's not here and I'm wondering where he is," Harry said.

"He could have just gone out," Myra suggested gently to him. "I'm sure he's fine."

Harry nodded although she couldn't see. "Yes. Yeah, of course he's all right," he said, more to himself than to anything else. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Harry? Are you all right? You looked a bit sick today - you're not coming down with anything, are you?" Myra sounded concerned.

"No, I'm fine," Harry said, lying but not caring. He was not what he was worried about right now; he wanted to know where Draco was. "I've got to go."

"Call me when he gets back," Myra said and he could hear her slight smile. "Just so that I know you're not worrying and getting yourself sick."

"I will," Harry said. "Bye."

She had barely said good-bye before Harry had put the phone down. He stood up from the couch, where he'd sat down to avoid more dizziness, and made his way out to the hallway, where he put his jacket and shoes on. He grabbed his keys and opened the door, only to find--

Draco.

"Hey," he said, wheeling himself up the ramp they'd built over the one step up to the front door. "You going somewhere?"

Harry stared at Draco. The panic inside him began to dissolve and the adrenaline left his body.

"What is it?" Draco asked, frowning slightly at him.

"Where were you?" Harry asked.

The frown on Draco's face deepened. "I was out," he said. "I am allowed to leave the house, right?"

Harry only started. When his heart had calmed enough, he nodded, swallowing. "Of course," he said hoarsely and he was horrified to find that he was close to crying with relief that Draco wasn't injured or abducted or worse.

He turned and ran to his room, where he slammed the door shut behind him. Well inside, he stood, his chest heaving and hurting. He felt dizzy and he sat down. Tears of-- something burned in his eyes but he refused to let them fall.

A soft knock on the door startled him although it shouldn't have.

Draco opened the door and wheeled himself inside with little problem.

"Harry? Are you all right?" he asked, slowly coming closer to where Harry was sitting on the side of the bed.

"I'm fine," Harry said, although it sounded choked even to his own ears.

He should have known better than to think Draco would leave him alone.

"Yes," Draco drawled, "I can see that - sitting on your bed, looking close to tears about something, all red-cheeked and angry. I'm sure you're fine."

"Draco--"

Draco came closer and placed a hand on Harry's arm.

"Just-- don't," Harry said, his voice suddenly weak, the energy once again draining out of him.

"Don't what?" Draco asked, his voice gentler now, like a man handling a wild animal. Harry didn't feel too far off with that description; he certainly was an unreliable animal - he didn't even know himself how he would react to things. Draco's hand stayed on his arm and the blond slowly inched closer.

"Don't just leave," Harry said.

Draco frowned at him again, cocking his head to the side. "Is that what this was all about?"

Harry didn't answer; he didn't have to. Draco knew it anyway. He shook his head slightly, laughing softly. "You are so strange sometimes, Harry Potter," he said. Then he bent forward and kissed Harry gently, letting their lips meet slowly. It felt like heaven to Harry and his heart finally began slowing down again.

When they broke apart, Harry looked down at his hands, unable to meet Draco's grey eyes and gentle smile.

"Beautiful, are they not?""

He recalled Hermione's words and they made him look up for some reason. Green eyes met silver and Harry's world stopped. There was such understanding in those eyes. Understanding, laughter, sadness-- love?

Another coughing fit brought the moment to an all too abrupt end. Harry doubled and clutched his chest. He suddenly felt hands on his back, rubbing slowly, and a voice speaking to him. The voice was calm, but panic lay beneath the surface.

"Lay down, Harry," Draco mumbled to him. "Shh. Lay down and relax."

Harry let himself be pushed down on the bed and the coughing fit slowly eased. Hands massaged his left shoulder gently, relaxing him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Draco admonished him softly. "You shouldn't have been in classes today."

Harry remained silent, Draco's words fading until only his voice was left and he let that voice lull him slowly to a safe, secure sleep.

*

The following days were hell for Harry. He'd caught the flu and it was just as bad as everyone who'd had it had always told him. The fever he'd gotten on the first day stayed and left him in a hazy dream-state most of the time. Between the fever-highs, he was tormented by shaking chills and headaches and a runny nose and-- he hated being sick.

Draco took care of him, something for which he would be eternally grateful. He made him breakfast and served it to him in bed, brining the plate with him in his lap to Harry's bed. He forced Harry to drink ridiculous amounts of water and he forced tablets down Harry's throat.

"You're lucky you're not part-Veela," Draco said, smiling slightly at Harry in one of his more coherent moments. "I wouldn't be able to take this medicine at all."

A look of horror passed over Harry's face. "What if you catch it?" he asked, sniffing as his nose was running. Draco handed him a tissue.

"Can't, won't," Draco assured him. "One of the things I owe my father for. He made sure that I am protected against the usual Muggle- and Wizard-illnesses."

"But at the hospital - you were sick," Harry said. "'Mione said that it was some regular Muggle illness."

"My entire immune system was failing because of the Muggle medicines and the shock my body suffered during the accident. The spells my father had placed upon me were failing just as much," Draco said, stroking Harry's hair gently.

"Well, then, you can perform a spell like that on me any time you want," Harry said. His body ached horribly and he felt the tiredness sweep over him again. He would be asleep again soon.

"You've left the Wizarding world behind," Draco reminded him. "No magic?"

"There can be-- exceptions," Harry said, yawning.

Draco pulled the cover up over Harry. "Sleep," he said.

As though Draco had performed a spell, Harry was asleep. Draco bent down and placed a light kiss on Harry's feverishly damp forehead. Harry smiled slightly in his slumber.

Draco stayed home while Harry was sick, watching over him like a mother would her sick child. He pulled the blankets to cover him when he'd kicked them in his fever-induced heat and he put a cool cloth on his head to make him relax when the fever went up yet again. He soothed Harry when nightmares suddenly started taking over his sleep, making him remember more than he cared to of his last years at Hogwarts. He didn't want to remember, didn't want the nightmares.

Harry barely left his bed; only to go to the bathroom and on Saturday night, when Draco forced him to go in and take a shower.

Coming out of the shower, Draco had made his bed - how, Harry would never know, but Draco was amazing at what he was able to do, even confined to the wheelchair - and taken out new pyjamas for Harry to wear. As he held out the clothes to Harry to put on, Harry realised that Draco liked taking care of him. There was something in the gentleness in his voice, in the way he touched him, calmed him.

"Thanks," Harry said suddenly, his voice quiet and his eyes steadily resting on Draco.

Draco looked up at him, surprise evident. "What for?" he asked.

"This," Harry said, motioning towards himself and the bed and the glass of water on Harry's nightstand. "For-- taking care of me."

Draco allowed a small smile to grace his features. "You are quite silly. Why wouldn't I do it for you? You did it for me."

"Payback?" Harry asked, slightly disappointed that it was only a return of favours.

"No," Draco said, "Being a friend."

"Just a friend?" Harry asked.

Draco cocked his head to the side. "Being yours," he said after a moment.

"Mine," Harry said, bending down and kissing Draco briefly.

When they broke apart, both were smiling; Harry's grin was the widest. Then another bout of shakiness had Draco forcing him to lie down again.

Draco left the room, saying he was going to make dinner. Harry closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep within minutes.

He was back at Hogwarts, in the huge Great Hall. It was filled with people but it was far from a happy occasion. Screams and death hung in the air, spells and curses flying through the air. Wands vibrating from the raw powers moving in the room.

Harry stood facing Voldemort while his friends died around him to ensure that he would be able to break the Dark Lord. He was in a full Body Bind, unable to move.

"I have waited for so long to kill you," Voldemort hissed at him.

The rage that had been growing within Harry ever since Ron's death - no, since Cedric's death - increased, filling him with darkness and making him see red. He didn't listen to what Voldemort was saying, instead he focused all of his powers inwards.

Harry remembered blinding light.

He never understood why there was light when all he felt was darkness.

When he woke up again, he was in the Infirmary - or what was left of it.

Hermione was crying next to him.

The scene around him changed to one of the many funerals he attended after the final battle.

The twinkle in Albus Dumbledore's eyes disappeared, his eyes staring unseeingly before him, his white beard stained by blood and dirt.

Minerva McGonagall falling not far from her Headmaster, her face contorted in pain.

He saw the short ceremony where Severus Snape was appointed as the new Headmaster. They hadn't decided who would be the new Deputy Headmaster or mistress.

"Just do your best, Harry. No one can expect anything more from you," Remus Lupin told him. Harry saw him fall, in a mission a month before the final battle. A silver bullet through his heart - blood and pain and agonizing howls.

And yet Moony was one of the ones who'd told Harry that he didn't fear death. He'd be with Padfoot.

"When the war is over, I'm going to ask Angelina to marry me," Fred Weasley told him and then he fell down, dead, more blood mixing with that already on the floor.

Percy Weasley stood before Harry, "First years this way, please!"

And then he too was dead.

The Weasley family suffered more than most - the horror when Molly and Arthur found the Dark Mark on Percy's arm.

They came before Harry at a more rapid pace: Terry Boot, Padma Patil, Ernie Macmillian...

Seamus Finnigan had died months earlier, before Ron. "D'you reckon we'll ever win this war?"

No...

Harry didn't answer and Seamus wore a surprised look when a dagger was placed through his heart.

Ron Weasley, red hair contrasting vividly against the green ground and clashing with the blood.

...so much blood...

The walls of his dreams were all a deep red...

There were not many people left in school. The halls felt strangely empty; Harry felt himself floating through the halls. The sun shone in through the large windows but the scene was black and white, the people around him having lost all their colours, their essences.

The panic grew within his chest.

Hannah Abbott, smiling at him and then more pain.

Dennis Creevey, walking next to his brother and blood suddenly pouring from his mouth and nose and ears as a curse caused his heart to break...

He was back outside, the images of people long dead still flashing before him. He would reach out to touch their faces, to prove them real and not gone, and they would disappear, like smoke dissolving before his eyes.

He felt the tears in his eyes burn but he wouldn't let them fall.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, taunting him and in the next second, they lay dead on the floor of the Great Hall.

Never one without the other; Harry thought it to be fitting when they were both found dead, mere feet away from each other.

Nymphadora Tonks came before him, her hair blue and her face smiling contently, waving, "How do you like my hair today?" only to turn into a grimace of pain and death.

Dedalus Diggle smiled and greeted him, then keeled over, hit in the back by the Killing curse.

"This is one of the new protection spells the Ministry are testing out,," Kingsley Shaklebolt told him and suddenly blood started pouring from wounds all over his body.

The Great Hall was a mess of blood and destruction and death.

It was cleaned off before Harry was allowed in there, but he could still see the dead bodies on the floor, necks turned in unnatural angles, faces contorted with pain and fear. He could still smell the blood and death in the air. He could still hear the screams echoing in the air, slicing through him like a thousand knives--

Hermione came up behind him, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"Harry," she said, putting one hand on his shoulder.

He turned away from her and left.

He was alone in something big and huge and black and scary - but at least it was empty, devoid of feeling and people and so no one could get hurt and he wouldn't hurt.

Suddenly the blackness disappeared from beneath his feet and he felt himself falling...

...down...

...dead...

He closed his eyes and wished for his journey to the other side would be swift...

...he hoped he would se Ron soon again...

Someone was shaking him, gently but urgently.

"Harry, wake up, it's only a dream."

Harry opened his eyes, feeling disoriented and tired, his body aching.

He was met with the sight of an angel before him. Pale hair, pale face, graceful features: Draco.

"I'm okay," he said, his voice hoarse, tired, closing his eyes again.

"You were shaking and moaning in your sleep," Draco said, concern evident. "What did you dream about?"

Green eyes looked up to meet silver as Harry contemplated telling Draco. "The final battle," he mumbled finally.

Draco's features relaxed into understanding. "I see," he said softly.

"There were so many who died, Draco," Harry whispered. "Fred, Padma, Hannah, Terry-- McGonagall-- Dumbledore," The last name was barely audible.

Draco reached forward and surprised Harry by cupping Harry's cheek in his hand. Harry relaxed with the touch. "I know," Draco said. "It was-- awful."

"You weren't there," Harry said. "You couldn't possibly--"

"I heard stories," Draco said. "Even if I was in the Muggle world, I couldn't avoid the stories. I read the Daily Prophet."

"A lot of Slytherins died too," Harry said his voice thick with sadness. "Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle-- Pansy Parkinson. Almost everyone in your year and many of younger students too."

Draco moved closer to Harry, still stroking his cheek. "You couldn't have saved them."

"I-- no, I couldn't," Harry said, bitterness suddenly lacing his voice. "I couldn't even save Ron."

Harry noticed the flash of pain and guilt passing over Draco's face, wiping off the gentle smile. Draco pulled his hand back. "I'm sorry."

Harry frowned for a second, then shook his head. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. Your father is rotting away in Azkaban and Voldemort is dead, so Ron is-- avenged."

"It doesn't really help, does it?" Draco asked, his face looking strained.

"No, it doesn't," Harry said quietly. "It won't bring him back."

Draco looked down, avoiding Harry's gaze. Harry wondered what was up with the blond man; why was he acting as though-- oh. He thought it was his fault that Ron was killed. Guilt, that was the feeling that was radiating off Draco in strong waves.

"Draco," he said letting the tenderness he felt towards the other man show. "Come here."

Draco looked up, eyes widening in-- fright? Amazement? Harry couldn't place it.

A few seconds of fumbling followed, as Draco moved from the wheelchair to sit stiffly on the side of the bed, keeping his distance from Harry. Harry smiled slightly when Draco wasn't looking. He pulled himself up to a real sitting position, despite protesting muscles and an aching head.

"It wasn't your fault," Harry said softly, making Draco turn to face him. "You didn't kill him. You wanted to be his friend."

"And that killed him," Draco said with a harsh laugh. "Some friend I am."

"You are a great friend," Harry said, his voice a bit more heated than before. "Look at you right now. Taking care of me. You make food for me and see to it that I drink enough. You-- you hold me when I break down and you laugh with me when I'm happy-- You are absolutely..."

He trailed off, as Draco looked at him, eyes still wide. Harry wondered if it was the light in the room playing with him, or if there were really tears shining in Draco's eyes.

He pulled Draco towards him, hugging him and holding him. Draco seemed to hold his breath for a moment before relaxing in Harry's arms. He let his head rest on Harry's shoulder, closing his eyes. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco.

"Beautiful, are they not?""

She had no idea, Harry thought as he looked down at Draco who was taking deep, shuddering breaths against Harry's chest. The blond hair fell into his eyes, shimmering in the light. Pale eyelashes, making shadows appear. Pink lips, full and soft.

"You are strong, wonderful, amazing," Harry said quietly and Draco's breath hitched, the hands holding the fabric of Harry's pyjamas tightening. "You don't let anything get you down. You're tied to a wheelchair but you refuse to let it bind you. You continue to live although you think it's hard. You listen when I rave about classes and Hogwarts and-- everything else. You have become friends with my friends. You saved my life. You-- you are incredible. You are-- everything."

He finished in a mere whisper, reaching up to pull a lock of hair out of Draco's face. When he did, he saw a lone tear trail down Draco's cheek.

"I'm not any of those things," Draco said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I wanted nothing but for death to claim me when the accident happened. I have wanted nothing but to die ever since my father and Voldemort forced me to leave the Wizarding world behind."

"But you haven't died," Harry countered. He kissed Draco gently, his hand staying on the pale cheek. "You're here, living, fighting."

Draco looked up at him and Harry almost gasped at the sadness he saw in Draco's grey eyes. Draco's walls were down; this was him, totally and completely.

"It's so hard."

Harry held Draco tighter. "I know it is. Life is hard-- I've learnt that much. But-- there isn't much we can do about it but to continue fighting anyway."

"You're just delirious," Draco said, hiding his face in Harry's chest.

Harry ran a hand through Draco's hair, marvelling at how soft it was to the touch. "Shush. I'm not delirious. I'm feeling much better, because you have been taking care of me." He paused and watched Draco carefully. "You don't always have to be strong," he said softly. "I'm here - I can help you. You don't have to do it all by yourself."

"But what about when you're not there?" Draco asked pulling back to look at Harry. "When you leave?"

Harry pulled Draco to him again, closing his eyes briefly before meeting grey ones. "I'm not going to leave," he said softly. When Draco opened his mouth to protest again, Harry placed gentle fingers on his mouth. "Shh," he whispered and leaned in to capture Draco's lips again. Draco's lips were soft, warm. Harry was gentle, letting his tongue trail Draco's lower lip, making him whimper and press closer. When they broke apart, Harry was smiling softly at Draco.

"I'm not going to leave and I'm--" He repeated but then he stopped and yawned. He let out a small laugh. "And I'm obviously tired," he said.

"You should sleep," Draco said, smiling slightly back at him. "We shouldn't have had this discussion right now."

He made to move over to his wheelchair and leave, but Harry caught his wrist. "Just-- stay with me," he said. At Draco's frown, he added, "Please?"

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. Harry slid down to a half-lying position again and Draco slowly lay down next to him, wrapping his arms tightly around Harry, spooning him. Harry sighed, content, and snuggled closer. He hoped that the nightmare wouldn't repeat itself if Draco was there with him. If nothing else, Draco would be able to wake him up.

"You still have a fever," Draco told him, putting a hand on his forehead. "You're burning up."

"Hm," Harry said, half way off to sleep. "That might explain why I'm so sleepy."

Draco nodded and reached out to turn the light off. Then he lay down again, placed a light kiss on Harry's shoulder and they both slept peacefully.

To Be Continued...