Loving, Leaving, Bruising, Bleeding

Better to Have Loved and Lost....

Ch.3

Draco had to close his eyes, count to three, and open them again before he would believe that Harry Potter was standing in front of him. "Harry?!?" He gasped.

"It's nice to see you, Draco," he said as his eyes roamed Draco's body taking in his appearance. He was particularly keen on staring at Draco's eyes. They were hollow like they'd been before Harry and he began their relationship. "I always did love your hair like that."

"Harry, what in the bloody hell are you doing ---, " but before Draco could finish his question Harry's arms were resting on his shoulders, his fingers running through his hair and caressing his neck.

"Isn't enough that I'm here? I haven't seen you in ages and I'm finally back!" Harry pulled Draco close to him and pressed his lips to his. Draco could feel his knees start to buckle underneath him. A foggy haze entered his mind as Harry planted soft kisses on his cheek, forehead and nose. "Draco," he murmured. "I've been wanting...to come back to you," as Draco listened to Harry state this, something in his mind switched him back to life.

Suddenly, he pushed Harry away from him. His eyes narrowed into slits, nostrils flared, and his jaw muscles tightened. "Where've you been, Potter?"

"Wha...what? I was off fighting against Voldemort," he declared; shuddering at the familiar use of his surname.

"For two years?"

"I...yes! Where did you think I went? Did you think I'd kill Voldemort and it'd just be over? There's cleaning up to do, meetings with the Ministry, I would have been back sooner but - "

"But what? You were out fighting the big, bad war with Granger and Weasley? What bloody good use they were to you! Weasley went and got his self killed and no one can find Hermione! Why'd you take them, Potter? Why not me? I've always been second best to them though, haven't I?" Draco's body was shaking with anger and frustration. He wanted to smack Harry over his fat head. Then again, he wanted to scoop Harry up into his arms and apologize profusely.

"Look, I'm sorry you feel that way. I'm sorry your dad was killed --"

"Tch, I'm not."

Harry continued as though he didn't hear this comment. "I didn't ask them to come with me. I didn't want Ron to die or Hermione to go missing. I wanted to kill Voldemort and be a happy normal person with my best friends and you, Draco. I love you."

"I love you too, Harry, and I couldn't stand it here without you. I couldn't stand being alone in this house knowing that you were out there somewhere. Knowing that any survivors on the dark side could attack you in the middle of the night and kill you. I was so afraid that I'd never see you again, Harry."

"I will always be here for you, Draco, always."

"The same way Sirius is here for you?" Draco asked. Seeing the stricken look on Harry's face he mentally reprimanded himself. Why do you do these things? He thought. Because they've been done to me. He hurt me first..." Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

Harry didn't react the way that Draco'd thought he would. He'd been acting more violent since fifth year, so he figured that Harry would strike him. However, he retreated into his self. His eyes grew cold and his face fell. He's been left by many...

***

"Hermione just sent me an Owl, Harry. Meet me in Hogsmeade at three. She and I are going to do a bit of Christmas shopping." Ron smiled.

"Be careful, Ron. Please be careful," Harry pleaded. Ron nodded and left the Burrow, flooing to Hogsmeade.

When three o' clock came Harry wrapped his Gryffindor scarf around him. He pulled on a red cloak that Molly had given the previous Christmas. The Boy Who Lived shut his eyes and pictured a place filled with busy shoppers. Snow covered the grounds and the roofs of the shops. A loud pop sounded and a minute later, Harry was standing in the middle of a crowded street.

Harry sidled into the Leaky Cauldron, expecting to find Ron waiting for him there. He sat himself at a table after not spotting his red-headed best friend. Madame Rosmerta approached him. "A Butterbeer, Harry?"

"Yes, please. Have you seen Ron?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"What about Hermione?"

"Not her either, m' dear."

Harry sighed inwardly. His Butterbeer came. He drank it slowly, feeling content as the warm liquid sank down his throat and rested in his stomach. Finally, Harry tightened his scarf, left money on the table, and plodded out of the pub. The wind was fierce, so Harry hurried into shop after shop. Still, no sign of Ron. Finally, at the far end of the street he saw a familiar red head bent toward the sugar - like ground. Sitting on the steps of the Shrieking Shack was Ronald Weasley. He could hear Ron sigh from a distance and saw that he was shaking slightly, cupping his face in his long and slender hands. Harry thundered down the street to him. When he reached the boy, he stood surprised. "Ron, are you okay?"

"Harry! God, Harry, it's awful! You've got to help Hermione! She's in there; she's trapped! Help her, please. I'm not any good at being brave! I tried...but...there're spiders in there. I couldn't possibly help her!" he sobbed.

"Okay, just calm down, Ron. What happened? Tell me what happened!"

Ron continued to sob into his gloved hands.

Without hesitation, Harry apparated into the Shack. He landed in the very bedroom where he'd first met Sirius, his godfather. His face paled as he spotted Ron lying on the floor in a crumpled heap. Confusion overcame him as he saw Lord Voldemort standing over him; a malicious smile crossing his chalk - white lips.

"RON!" He shouted. Voldemort's expression was one of pure triumph. Harry's face blazed with anger. "You, unhand him! Let him go! He's done nothing - "

Voldemort's smile broadened, "But that is where you are so wrong! Young Mr. Weasley has been a very good aid to me. After all, it was he who brought you to me."

Harry stared again at Ron's body. Ron had just been outside...what was he doing lying in here on the floor? And where was Hermione? Before Harry could answer the questions, he felt the sharp point of a wand in his back. The voice that followed was quite familiar."Potter," the sour sweet female voice breathed. "Always the hero aren't you? What will you do now? There is no Dumbledore. There is no Mud blood or best friend to save you. There is only you, My Master, and myself here."

"Bellatrix! You insufferable --"

"Na-ah, play nice, boy."

"You're a fool, Voldemort. You think the people below in the streets won't hear you? They'll find us."

"That is where you are the fool. This, Harry, is the Shrieking Shack. Howls and screams are not unusual here. The people will merely believe that a ghost is making all the racket, " Voldemort laughed at his genius. "All the while, I'll be killing you. Are there any last requests before you die, Harry? Anything I can grant you?"

"You can start by telling me how Ron ended up here on the floor."

Bellatrix shrieked with laughter. "I knew you'd ask that. Sometimes the simplest plans work the best. It was easy, really. My Lord learned the handwriting of your Mud blood friend and sent a note to Ron, luring him here. Did you know that I was an Animagus Harry? Except I am better than just any old Animagus, oh yes. I can do more than most can. I can be any animal I would like to be. Do you know who taught me that?"

Harry rolled his eyes and replied sharply. "No, who? Wormtail?"

"I would not be so hasty with the person who's holding you at wand point, dear boy," the collected state she had been in a moment ago was replaced by an angry tone. "When Ron entered the village I took the form of an Owl, delivering to him yet another letter. This one was once again in that Mud bloods," she spat the name as if it were a foul taste, "handwriting. It told him to meet Hermione in here. Once the foolish child arrived, my Master quickly stunned him and pulled a few of his hairs from his head, dropping it into the Polyjuice Potion that we created a month ago. I then turned into your beloved Ron, and brought you here. I knew you wouldn't turn down the opportunity to save your friend."

As Bellatrix explained this to him, his mind searched for an escape. He knew he couldn't just up and leave, so he made small talk. "So, Ron's alive is he?"

"For the time being," replied the Dark Lord sinisterly. "It depends on you. Who will you choose, Harry? Your life or his? Think about this clearly. If you succumb to me, I will make it easy for you. I'll just kill you clean and you'll never have to see the terror I plan to unleash on the Wizarding and Muggle world. If you try to play the hero however - "

Harry intended to do just that. Hoping to Merlin that Voldemort had no knowledge of his ability to become an owl, Harry closed his eyes and thought clearly. Underneath his breath he counted to three, just as he was taught by Remus, and imagined Hedwig. To the amazement of both Bellatrix and Voldemort, his body transformed from that of a boy to a beautiful white bird. Harry launched himself into the sky, spreading his beautiful white wings. Too stunned to react, Bellatrix just stared. It was Voldemort who finally roared,

"Fool! Stop him!"

"Yes, Master!" Harry heard her whimper. He could hear he scramble across the floor, aming her wand at him. Harry dodged every Avada Kedavra that she fired at him. Harry swooped low and barely missed another jet of green light. The years he'd spent dodging bludgers as a seeker had definitely paid off. In her confounded state, Bellatrix had little time to realize that Harry was headed straight for her. He sank his talons into her eyes, blinding her. Blood leaked from her eyes, pouring quickly down her face. Bellatrix let out loud wails as Harry circled her head. "Where is he? I can't see him! Master, help me!"

"YOU ARE WORTHLESS!" he shouted. Voldemort shot carelessly at him with his wand. Instead of the Killing Curse, Harry was nearly subject to FINITE INCANTATUM forty times over. Obviously, Voldemort had other plans before would destroy him. He flew low and settled himself in front of Bellatrix' heart, hoping that Voldemort would do what he wanted. Out of frustration, the Dark Lord cast a Killing Curse at him. Harry flew up in the nick of time, nearly as fast as a Firebolt. The curse caught Bellatrix in the chest. Harry watched as her body hitched in convulsion - like fashion. She uttered one little gasp of surprise and then she crumpled to the floor , her lifeless body leaving a stain of blood on the wooden paneling. "

You want to play dangerously, Potter? An eye for an eye, remember that." Voldemort turned his back on Harry and quickly began to repeat the same curse over again. Harry froze for a second in horror. As fast as his wings would carry him, he soared across the room and sank his talons into Voldemort's shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. Voldemort spun quickly and swiped at Harry with his left arm, but Harry ducked it and flew around his head. The Dark Lord uttered curses, hexes, and spells but to no avail. Finally, he muttered "Accio". Harry came soaring over to him, desperately trying to fight the spell.

Voldemort grasped the tail feathers in his fingers and smiled wickedly. He turned back to Ron's unconscious form. "Now, boy, watch! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Just as the spell struck the youngest boy in the Weasley family, Harry transfigured himself back into the human state and toppled onto Voldemort, knocking him to the ground.

***

Everything after that point had been a blur. Harry had defeated Voldemort, as he was expected to, the Wizarding world loved him, as they were expected to, and all was right with the world...almost all.

A small cup of tea was in his hand, and Harry had no idea how it had gotten there. The last thing he remember, he was reliving the worst moment of his life. Now his eyes wandered around the dining room of Malfoy Manor. Draco was sitting next to him, staring into his face. "So, that's how it happened?"

Harry's brow furrowed and then un-furrowed as he remember what had happened. Draco'd led him to the dining room, sat him in the chair and then brought him a cup of tea. Out of no where, he asked Harry what his exact feelings for Lucius Malfoy were. Harry was put off by the question, but answered it anyway. "Your father is the most self - centered, self - serving, cunning bastard I've ever known and I hate him." Draco had smiled and seemed satisfied. Not thirty seconds later, he'd asked him how Ron died. Harry had launched into the story and felt as if he couldn't shut his mouth if he had wanted to.

"Draco," he stated "did you put Veritaserum in my tea?" He asked this question as normally as if he'd asked what the time was.

Draco flushed, " Yes, Harry, I'm sorry. I knew you wouldn't tell me any other way. I figured you'd be too upset. I just wanted to know the truth. I wanted to know if there was a way I could help you." Draco laid a hand on Harry's.

Harry leaned in and brushed his lips across Draco's. He leaned back in his chair and smiled at Draco. Some part of him was satisfied that Draco'd made him tell him the story. Somehow, sharing it with Draco helped him achieve some of the closure he needed.

Draco's kisses came more urgent on Harry's mouth. His eyes were closed, his hands squeezing Harry's back and combing through his hair. Harry pulled him closer, responding by slipping his tongue into Draco's mouth and letting it dance with his. It ran along his teeth, on the roof of his mouth and wrestled with it's counterpart.

They broke apart for a moment both gasping for breath. They smiled at one another. Draco lifted Harry into his arms and carried him up the stairs.

***

Sleeping was one of the best ways Harry liked Draco. Maybe because it made him look less like the son of a Death Eater and more like an angel. His white - blonde hair hung loosely over his closed eyes. His long lashes touching the black pouches that formed due to many sleepless nights. Draco's body was relaxed and he looked as if he were the most care-free person in the world. That's why Harry like watching him sleep. He liked to see him happy.

However, Harry knew that when Draco woke up in the morning, the happiness would leave him. This was because Harry would have to leave him too. He knew that the gift on the bed side table would not be enough to console Draco when he found Harry's side of the bed empty.

Harry pushed the thought out of his mind and smiled at the little figurine on the table. He rolled over, snuggling up against Draco's side and drifted off to sleep with ease. The moonlight danced on the silver stag that stood in a prancing position on the table. If it came down to it, all Draco would have to do is hold it and say Harry's name.....