A Stranger Garden

Chapter 17.

2065

Harry had lost count of just how many times in the last twelve years, five months, and seventeen days he'd stood in front of these doors willing himself to open them and take the first step to reuniting with Draco. He'd studied the intricate designs on the wood countless times trying to convince the brave Gryffindor in him to reach out and open them. He knew every curl and dip in every design; knew exactly where each pattern began to repeat itself. He could draw the doors in his sleep.

Every time he'd run away, courage failing him at the last moment. Being a coward had never been part of his make up and he found it hard to understand why it was that he couldn't find the courage to just open the door. At times his fingers had even reached out to touch the handle, always withdrawing before touching the cool metal.

There had been days when he'd had the Manor to himself, that he'd lifted the silencing wards around the Ballroom so he could sit on the floor outside the doors all day and listen to Draco's attempts to learn piano. At those times the need to rip open the door and just see him made him ache.

But stubbornly he'd refused himself the pleasure. The hurt ran too deep. He'd raise the silencing wards once more because he couldn't stand the looks the rest of the family gave him when they heard Draco playing, and return to a life where he was rapidly excluding anyone that wasn't family.

The more hurt and bitter he felt, the less tolerance and patience he had for anyone else and, so as not to hurt their feelings, he spoke less, socialised less, the consequences being the less they spoke to him in return. It was a ripple effect and it had worked very effectively.

He'd felt some anger and betrayal when his marriage had fallen apart as there had been real love there at one point. But that hadn't hurt anywhere near as badly as Draco's betrayal. To think someone he'd loved so deeply had planned on killing him, taking away his life, taking him away from his family.

For a long time he hadn't been able to see past that. And then, by the time he did...it seemed too late to do anything about it. The longer it went on, the harder it became to take that first step and the more bitter and angry he became, only it was directed at himself as much as it was at Draco.

Warring inside him was a man in two minds. One that wanted to go in there and confront Draco; scream and rage, threaten to burn all the portraits. The other one wanted to have Draco in his lap holding on to him like he'd die if he let go and wanted to love him again like he had before.

But the pain got in the way every time and he walked away.

Many of his family members had tried to make Harry return to seeing Draco. He hadn't listened. Not because he didn't want to return, but because he was afraid of what he might say or do if he did. Fear of the unknown. It made him feel like a coward; he'd never been afraid of the unknown before.

Teddy was the only one who'd managed to get through to him. And he'd not said anything other than, "It's time, Harry. Do it now before you regret it. What happens if you die before you reconcile?"

At the time, Harry had thought that would be the easy way to go. He'd be dead and he wouldn't have to take that first step; it would be done for him. Teddy, clever bastard, must have read the thoughts on his face, because he added. "Draco might hate you as much as you profess to hate him, now. If he does and you die, what's to stop him carrying out his planned revenge after all? Nothing will stop you waking in that portrait when you die, now, nothing can change that. How you two deal with it and each other after that will depend on what you do now. If you love him - and if you're still grieving it seems you do - reconcile now before it's too late."

Harry had stood there with his mouth open. Had Draco told him all about it then? What did that mean? Did it mean that Draco missed him as much as he missed Draco? Or did that mean that Draco was gloating in there that he'd had this master revenge plan and now that they both hated each other again he'd be able to carry it out?

Imagining being tortured for eternity by someone he hated was only overshadowed by the thought of being tortured for eternity by someone he loved.

And he did love Draco. Falling in love with a portrait was odd and unheard of, but Harry's whole life had been replete with doing things that were previously unheard of, so why should falling in love be any different?

Standing in front of the door wasn't going to get this done, he told himself. It wasn't going to get any easier and for sure no one else could do it for him. He took a deep breath and this time when he reached out to grab the door handle, he touched the cool metal surprised that he'd managed to break past his own fear this time.

As he turned the handle and pushed open the doors a sense of calm washed over him. Finally, after all these years, he would be able to set eyes on Draco once more. The one he loved, the one who had crushed him with his confession about planning to kill him. He'd done it, taken that first step and now that the whole process had been set in motion, there was no hesitating from hereon in.

Harry almost laughed at the shock on Draco's face as he walked in. He looked just as Harry remembered, beautiful, young and gorgeous and blond and...he sighed...beautiful. The beauty hid a treacherous heart, though, Harry reminded himself.

Draco's spoon clattered to the table top, clanking as it hit the plate. "Harry?"

Harry rolled his eyes, biting his lip to stop from smiling. "Have I changed that much?"

"No! No, it's just...Merlin...it's been so long, I didn't expect to ever see you again."

"I didn't expect to ever come back," Harry admitted, frowning.

"I...I don't know what to say."

"I'm not sure of what I want to say, either." And he wasn't. At least he had no idea of how to start a conversation that would lead them to reconcile. Which he wanted. Twelve years was long enough.

"Why are you here, then?" Draco asked. He sounded wary and Harry detected the defensive position he'd rearranged himself into. He probably thought that Harry wasn't there for anything good.

"I came to see you," he replied. "Twelve years is long enough, Draco."

Harry had to stop talking then, his throat was seizing up and he felt the hot pricking behind his eyes that was the onset of tears and he refused to get overly emotional. It helped having to stop; if he kept going he would blab about missing Draco and he wasn't prepared to give that much. Yet. Draco would have to prove how trustworthy he was all over again before he'd lay himself open to that sort of pain.

"Does that mean you've forgiven me?" Draco asked hopefully, Harry noticing how his disposition brightened considerably.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know." He sat down on the edge of the couch, not prepared to make himself too comfortable just yet.

Draco's dejected slump and subsequent frown made Harry cross. What did he expect? That Harry could just forget all about the fact that Draco had planned on killing him?

"I don't know, I just..." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I just needed to see you, again."

Draco stood and moved as close to the front of the painting as he could, then lowered himself to his knees. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I don't get down on my knees for anyone, Harry, but it might show you how sincerely sorry I am that I would beg for your forgiveness. I will if you want me to."

"You'd beg me?" Some of Harry's crossness vanished.

Draco looked flustered. "If it would make any difference. I'd do anything you want me to just so you'd come back to me."

It was clear that Draco was deadly serious because he was overly emotional and his voice trembled.

"Why do you want me back?"

"Are you serious?" Draco looked incredulous. "Harry, I've been in love with you for longer than I was alive, how can you ask me why?"

"Get up off your knees, Draco," Harry said, relenting. "I don't want you to beg me."

"Are you coming back? Do you forgive me?" Draco asked, not moving.

"Please, Draco, I don't want you to beg," Harry insisted.

"Not until you tell me you forgive me and you're coming back!"

"I don't know, all right?" Harry shouted, standing and running his hands through his hair again nervously. "It's really fucking hard to get past the fact that you planned on killing me and torturing me for the rest of eternity."

Draco's voice was low and quiet, though no less assertive. "That was the live version of me. This version is a totally different creature and I don't want to kill you or torture you. I want to love you. If you'll let me."

Harry was still doubtful; it had hurt too fucking much to just let it go. But he did want to let Draco love him - he loved Draco, didn't he? Despite the betrayal, he still loved Draco. But admitting it to him was something he wasn't ready for just now.

"Harry, I am the one you fell in love with, not the live Draco. Me. Will you let him destroy what we had forever?"

Draco had a point; Harry knew it but didn't want to admit to it. That final step of granting absolution was just too big a step no matter how much he wanted to take it. There was a long, painful silence.

"I'll make you a compromise," Harry finally said.

"Anything."

It made Harry's heart clench to see how eager Draco was for any way back into Harry's heart.

"I'll keep coming to see you and we'll talk. Like we did when we were getting to know each other. Then we'll see what happens."

"Done." Draco rose from his knees and smiled, clearly relieved and happy as he sat back down on his chair.

A little ball of white fluff decided to make its presence known then and climbed into Draco's lap, kneading its paws for a few moments before settling down and curling up in a ball.

Draco absently stroked its fur, still smiling.

"I see the kitten woke up," Harry said.

"Oh. Yes." Draco grinned and looked down at her. "I called her Kitty, because at the time I didn't care one way or the other that she was around." His face flickered into a painful frown for a moment but then it was gone, replaced by a gentle smile. "Now, it appears to have stuck and she will be forever, Kitty."

"She is just as I remember her," Harry said wistfully, remembering the very first painting he'd had done for Draco.

"She's an attention hog is what she is," Draco replied, laughing. It felt so good to hear Draco's laugh again. He realised he'd missed it more than he'd thought.

"Just like her owner." He grinned back.

Draco narrowed his eyes playfully. "I'll let you get away with that one, just this once."

"And what will you do if I continue?" Harry was teasing and it amazed him that he fell back into the familiar banter so easily. It felt like twelve years had simply not existed.

Another flicker of unease passed over Draco's face, but when he caught sight of Harry's grin, he smirked. "Never get undressed in front of you again."

Harry laughed. "You won't be able to help yourself."

"We'll see," Draco replied. They both knew that if they went back to the way they had been before then Draco would be naked for Harry's eyes very soon. It was comforting in a way and Harry sat there silently, just enjoying the odd feeling of peace he was experiencing being in here and having sorted their relationship out as well as it could be sorted for now.

After several long moments, Draco placed the kitten on the floor and stood, moving closer to the front of the portrait. "Are you all right? You've gone terribly quiet."

Harry smiled at him. "Just not used to doing a lot of speaking these past years. I'm afraid you'll have to keep prompting me to speak."

"I can do that. Apparently I am an attention hog, so I am sure I can manage to demand your attention fairly often."

Harry could see what he was doing and he appreciated it. "I think I can handle that, as long as you can handle some pretty depressing sort of stuff when I do talk."

"Of course. All your conversation is depressing, Potter," Draco said, standing defensively, arms crossed but a smirk on his face that lit up his eyes showing Harry that he was joking.

"Wanker," he replied fondly.

"I've had to be, living in here."

Harry just smiled vaguely regretfully at him.

After several more moments, Draco took his seat again and spoke more seriously. "Are you talking about Hermione? I was really sorry to hear how she died." Harry looked at him and Draco hastened to add. "Teddy told me."

"Ah, Teddy." He sighed. "Some is about Hermione, some about me and there's a whole lot of guilt hanging around inside me for things I know aren't my fault, but for which I can't help feeling responsible."

"So you think Weasley is right to blame you for everything that's ever gone wrong in his family?"

Harry looked up at Draco's sharp tone. "No, I don't think he's right, but I can see where he thinks he's right."

"Honestly, Harry, you'd think that you were responsible for the whole world. Let it go. You cannot do everything for everybody all the time. You are not the world's keeper."

"You sound just like Hermione," Harry said. "With just the same amount of exasperation. She knew just how to tell me off in a way that made me feel like I was the world's stupidest person, but she loved me anyway."

"She always was a smart witch."

That drew a raised eyebrow from Harry.

"Oh, don't be so surprised. She saved your life on more than one occasion so I have cause to be more than grateful to her. Besides, I'm not the same horrid person I was back then. I know you'll miss her sorely."

"I will." Harry's face clouded over. "I really will. When Ron drifted away, she was about my only remaining friend and now..."

"And now you have me as well. And Ron will come around. He'll come to his senses one day and see that you're not responsible for their deaths and you're still his best friend."

"How do you know this?"

"Because I came to my senses and I hated you. I wasn't your best friend; I didn't have that warring between love and hate. It's a much smaller jump, so that's how I know. Underneath it all, he does love you, you know that, he just...well maybe he knows that he can blame you and you'll still be his mate. Maybe he needs to find someone to blame and you're pretty safe because he trusts you so much."

Harry had to admit he hadn't thought of it like that. But perhaps Draco was right. He could assume he was right and act accordingly. Still be Ron's best friend. With Hermione gone, he could call in and make sure he was looking after himself, though he was sure there was plenty of family who would do that.

Harry relaxed back into his chair, comfortable now and prepared for a long visit. He was so glad to be back, so happy to be once more looking at the portrait of the man he'd fallen in love with.