Moonlit Assurances

Moonlit Assurances:

A follow-up story to: From the Damage

Harry sighed and walked lazily down the street to his apartment, hands in his pockets. He was getting out of the house now, using magic again, and he actually had several muggle friends, and Ginny Weasley to talk to. Several months ago, after he had finally gotten over his depression from the final battle, Ginny had called upon him one day, and they had spent nearly three hours in his kitchen, drinking coffee and reminiscing about those who had been lost. It had been hard at first, to talk about the twins, or Hermione and Ron, but remembering the good times was sometimes a good thing. The one person they hadn't talked about, however, had been Draco Malfoy.

Harry gazed up at the sun, which was a brilliant shade of pink, and it painfully reminded him of Draco's cheeks whenever Harry used to make comments about the blonde's sexual prowess. Most people hadn't known it, but Draco Malfoy was actually kind of modest. Or, he had been. Harry felt tears streaming down his cheeks. It was now drawing to four years since that fateful day.

Harry still couldn't bring himself to talk openly about Draco. The pain was still too fresh. Every night, Harry had nightmares of Draco's lifeless silver eyes staring vacantly at him. Then, suddenly, Draco's corpse would slowly get up, and his eyes were alive again, but they were filled with pain, sadness, and resentment. He would reach out to Harry, his mouth would move to form words, but no sound ever came out. Harry could still see what he was saying, though. If he could hear it, it would be with Draco's pleading voice, saying, "Why? Why, Harry? Why didn't you ever tell me? Why did you push me away, and hurt me? I loved you, and told you, but you never told me. Did you even love me at all?" Harry would then try to reach out for him, to yell, "Yes! I loved you, and still do, and I'm sorry I hurt you," but he couldn't move. He was rooted to the spot, and his voice would never work, and Draco's eyes would fill with tears, just like the very last time he ever saw the blonde alive-- when Harry hurt him by breaking it off, for his own selfish reasons.

Harry growled low in his throat and slammed his fist into the nearest thing he could find, which happened to be a nearby tree. He winced slightly as his knuckles scraped the harsh wood, and when he peered at them, they were starting to bleed. He sighed heavily and made his way up to his door, and went inside.

After he took a simple healing draught and brandished his wand to get rid of the scars and blood, he walked into the living room and sat down on the couch with a sigh.

Just as he was beginning to fall asleep, he felt a soft breeze gently blow across his face and opened his eyes abruptly. He looked around, searching for the source, but there didn't seem to be any. As his head swiveled around to check to see if he had left the door open, he saw a silver mist coming from the hallway. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up, and he shivered as goosbumps prickled his skin. The color of that mist was so familiar, yet he couldn't place it. He felt like he was in a ghost movie of some sort. "W-who's there?" he called, gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Suddenly a blurry face and body appeared in the hallway, surrounded by the mist. "Harry," it called.

Harry peered at the face, trying to see if he could recognize it. There was something achingly familiar about that voice. The shape moved closer, and Harry could see the blurriness start to fade. Then, it all ended.

Harry bolted upright with a start. He looked around him for the shape in the mist when he noticed that he had fallen asleep on the couch. His wand had dropped to the floor and rolled all the way to the kitchen. He sighed and shook his head. It had been a dream, then. As Harry picked his wand up and headed down the hallway to his room to go to bed, he still couldn't shake off the extreme eerieness he felt from the vague familiarness of that voice and the color of that mist.

*******

"Really, Harry? Merlin, but that sounds creepy," Ginny Weasley said with an exaggerated shudder after hearing of Harry's strange and unnerving dream last night.

Harry felt himself shiver slightly from the memory. "I know. I just can't place that voice. I know it, but it sounded...distorted in a way." He shook his head and sipped his tea. "It's quite frustrating, really."

Ginny poked her fork pointlessly around her half-eaten salad before setting it back down again. "Aren't you worried? This is a strange new dream compared to your..." she trailed off slightly and finished in a whispered voice, "nightmares."

Harry nodded. "I know, and something tells me I should be wary, but there was something about that voice and the color of the mist that was...calming, I guess."

Ginny raised a brow, and Harry bit his lip hard. She must have learned that from Draco, because she did it almost exactly like him. She noticed his strangled expression and quickly put it down. "Sorry," she said hastily. "Anyways, I just think it's weird. Maybe you should take a dreamless sleep potion tonight?" she suggested.

Harry shook his head. "I want to find out who it is," he said firmly.

Ginny checked her watch and gasped softly. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry, but my lunch break is up. I have to get back to work now, but maybe we could continue this over dinner at your place tonight? 8:00?" she asked as she hastily tried to dig out her money for the meal and gather up her things simultaneously.

Harry nodded. "I'll see you then," he said with a bemused smile.

Ginny finally succeeded in getting the two things accomplished and hurried out the door after planting a quick kiss on Harry's cheek.

Harry took one last sip of his tea, then left his money on the table and headed back to his apartment. It was a cool and cloudy day, and Harry hoped the moon would be out tonight. Draco had always loved the moon, and it rubbed off on Harry. Harry liked to think the reason he started liking it so much was because when it used to hit Draco's soft, platinum hair, it had always looked like his head was bathed in some sort of heavenly light. Another thing that most people hadn't known about Draco Malfoy was that under his cool façade, he had had a soft side. An extremely soft side that only Harry had been privy to.

Harry smiled softly through his unshed tears and silently prayed for the moon to be shining that night.

Ginny arrived at 8:30. She always arrived late, no matter how early she started getting ready. That was just Ginny. Luckily, Harry knew Ginny very well by now, so he just did a simple heating charm, and they began to eat and resume that afternoon's conversation.

"Well, I talked to one of my co-workers about it-- no, I didn't use your name-- and she has a grandmother who is a Seer. She called her, and her grandmother thinks, that well, you're nuts," Ginny said with a blush.

Harry frowned slightly. "So, what was the point of contacting her then?" he asked with mild annoyance.

Ginny shrugged and finished the last bite of her meal. "I don't know. But, it's almost ten, so I'll just help you clean up and then scurry on out of here. I have to be at work at about nine in the morning."

Harry and Ginny cleaned up the kitchen, and Ginny hugged Harry goodbye before she Appartated back to her flat.

Harry sighed and thought about watching TV for a while, but he was really curious to see if he would have that dream again. So, he took a quick shower and went to bed.

Harry awoke later that night with a jolt. The room temperature had dropped, and he was shivering and had goosebumps again. He quickly looked around, but could see nothing but moonlight. Moonlight!

Harry rushed to the window and opened it up. The full moon was shining brightly, and his room was bathed in it. Harry sighed softly and closed his eyes.

"Harry."

Harry turned abruptly, and saw that mist surounding the blurred body and face again. It looked eerie, even more so because of the bright moonlight shining down on it.

"Who are you?" Harry asked. He was not afraid now. That voice...that color...so silver, bright...

The figure cleared, and Harry felt his chest contract painfully as he saw who it was. Tears sprung to his eyes as he looked upon the smiling face of his late lover. The mist was still surrounding him, and now Harry knew why the color had been so familiar. It was the color of Draco's eyes, the eyes he had been missing so much for almost four years. Harry felt the hot tears that stung his eyes run freely down his face as he looked at his lover. Draco's hair was hanging loosely, framing his face, and he was dressed in a simple white robe. In the brilliant moonlight, he looked ethereal. His hair, still as bright as always, complimented by the moon, looked like a radiant halo around his beautiful head.

"D-Draco?" Harry's voice cracked, and he stifled a sob as Draco smiled softly and moved towards him.

Harry expected Draco's lithe and glowing form to float straight through him, but it didn't. Draco's warm, familiar, and very much solid, body collided with Harry's in a desperate and fierce embrace. Harry's sobbed uncontrollably into Draco's shoulder, letting all the pent-up grief, anger, sadness and guilt that had built up over the past four years out. Draco's hands caressed his disheveled hair, and he whispered soft endearments into Harry's ear.

After Harry finally stopped crying, he pulled back, but not so much as to break the contact of their bodies, and gazed lovingly into Draco's beautiful, alive, silver eyes. "Draco, I--"

"Shh..." Draco held a finger to Harry's lips and smiled. "I know. I've always known."

Harry blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. "No, Draco, I need to say this," he said as he gently took Draco's finger from his lips. He entwined their fingers together as he spoke. "I'm sorry that I took you for granted. I'm sorry that I pushed you away, when we both needed each other, and I love you, my Dragon. I always will," he said, his voice cracking again.

Draco smiled. "I know. I love you, too, Harry, and I forgive you. I know you were hurt when you did it, and I know you've been hurting. I'm sorry I couldn't have come earlier, but I had pressing matters to attend to."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean, love?" he asked.

Draco smiled. "Never you mind. You'll find out once you die. That time isn't anytime soon, though," he said, shooting Harry one of his trademark glares.

Harry sniffed and smiled slightly. "I promise I won't do anything stupid. Are you going to leave me?" he asked worriedly.

Draco's silver eyes filled with tears. "Yes, I have to. You can't stay asleep forever. You have a life, and you need to get on with it, much like you have been lately. Which, by the way, I'm proud of you for. I was so worried that you were going to commit suicide and I'd never get to see you again," he said softly.

Harry looked down, hot tears stinging his eyes. "I thought about it, sometimes. Before Ginny called and we became closer," he admitted shamefully.

Draco brought his hand underneath Harry's chin and tilted his face upwards. "I'm glad you didn't. I have to leave now, love. If you ever find yourself missing me terribly, just look at the moon." He paused for a moment, just gazing at Harry tenderly. "I love you," he said softly.

Harry felt his tears running down his face again. He brought Draco's face close to his and kissed him hungrily, relishing in the feel of Draco's warm and soft lips, ones that he had ached for for so long, moving just as urgently against his.

After they were both breathless, Draco gently kissed Harry's tears away, and with one final smile, he faded out of sight.

Harry's eyes snapped open, and he was immediately aware that he had been crying. He wiped his face, only to make room for more tears, which were now streaming down his face freely. He frowned, remembering what Draco had said, and got up. He looked up at the brilliant moon, and saw what looked to be a silver mist, the exact same color of Draco's eyes, swirling about it.

Harry smiled through his tears. "I love you, too, Draco."