A Change Of Seasons

Draco was restless though he for a moment couldn't remember why. He'd awoken only a few moments ago unsure where he was, only a nagging ache in him that he didn't understand. As he lie there in the semi darkness however, the thoughts of nagging became a memory, a memory of a dream he wasn't sure could have been even real. Startled he almost tried to sit up, then he realized he wasn't alone wherever he was, that someone else was next to him, touching him. No, not even touching him, but holding him, or rather, holding his hand.

Surprized he managed to look over to where he felt someone on the side of his bed, and to his greatest surprize, saw it was none other then Harry Potter. Harry The Boy Who Lived Potter. His enemy. And his worst desire.

Torn between anger at remembrance of where he was and why now, and the electrical pleasure of Harry's hand in his own, he leaned back against the pillows sighing in frustration. Too good, it felt just too good to have Harry's hand in his, to feel his warmed skin against his own pale cold skin. *It shouldn't feel this good, it should be painful, I shouldn't be enjoying this yet how can I help it? I need him, I have to have him....* Draco thought closing his eyes and trying to shake off the still nagging effects of his sleep.

It was pointless though he realized for as soon as he closed his eyes, the images came again. A man, woman and boy about his age who resembled a small whale, yelling at Harry, forcing him into doing of all things labor work, of a time before that and of the feeling of suffocation by being locked up in a small dark closet with only slits of air allowed in. Being beaten up by the small whale, running nearly daily unless locked in that closet. Feelings of betrayal, of pain, anger, torment. And suddenly Draco realized what he was seeing.

This wasn't just imaginary images in his head, they were real, and they were Harry's. This was Harry's life away from school, this was Harry's own personal hell after being thrust into the muggle world after his parents had died. Draco had on accident heard the stories of the famous Golden Boy's 'home life' when Granger and Weasley hadn't known he was listening in the library on occasions. He'd heard their whispered talks on how they were going to 'rescue' Harry every summer from the 'insanely awful muggles', but somehow he never really believed those stories. Until now that was.

This had to be what Harry went through when he was home, yet how he was able to 'see' into Harry's life he didn't know. It didn't matter anyway as to how or why, but the fact was he did and could see it, and feelings began to swell through him that startled even himself. Anger towards those horrid muggles that abused and demeaned his Harry so. Pain at what Harry had to suffer even up till now, and the anguish at knowing now a bit of why Harry seemed to withdraw at times and fight so hard against Draco for what Harry thought Draco was. It was all beginning to make sense now to Draco, and for the first time since he realized how much he wanted Harry Potter, Draco began to question his motives.

He had wanted to claim him as his own, make Harry his possession and his alone, but till now, he never stopped to think that Harry needed more then that. That Harry needed to be safe, secure, treated like a person and not the 'freak' that the woman had made him to be. Harry wasn't a 'freak' though, nor anything else. Harry was spot on, if he had any flaws, it was only that he cared too much for people, for everyone really except Draco Malfoy, and with very good cause. In all these years Draco had given him every reason to hate him, to abuse him, to best him in everything possible.

He realized now lying in the hospital bed that he had been so wrong, so very wrong on who he thought Harry was. At school, in the wizarding world, Harry might very well be the most important person at the moment, the hope to defeat Voldemort and bring peace to a terrified nation, but in reality, he was only a 17 year old boy, hurt, degraded, and unloved except by a few. Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Weasley, Granger, Dumbledore. Those were the only ones who saw Harry for who he really was, and truely cared for him. Unlike Draco, they didn't want to possess him, they only wanted to love him.

Love. Such a strange word to Draco really. He thought he had 'loved' Harry, but till now he realized that he really had no clue a'toll what the real word of 'love' meant. Malfoy's ideas of love were warped, tainted, they made out love to be a hold on someone, a torment, a ruling nature, that was if the word 'love' even truely existed within the Malfoy life. He'd never heard the word physically from his mother or father, nor had he ever once said it to them. Respect yes, love no.

Seeing Harry as he had in the dream though made him wonder if he could ever be capable of 'loving' Harry as the real meaning of the word meant. *Is it possible? Can a Malfoy 'love' another human being? I need him, I want him...but that's not the same is it. That's not 'love'.* Draco thought bitterly. Daring himself though, he opened his eyes and turned his gaze back down towards the sleeping boy at the side of his bed, and again marvelled at the warmth of Harry's hand within his own.

*Oh Harry...I would give anything, do anything to learn to really know how to love you. Not to possess you, but to have you as an equal. Show me Harry...show me what I have to do...please...I want to learn so much....gods how I do need you Harry!* Draco thought and closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall, gave a long drawn out sigh of remorse.

"Draco?" a soft, sleepy voice suddenly said from the side of the bed, causing Draco nearly to jump out of his skin.

"Ha-Harry?" he said almost fearfully, opening his eyes again only to look right into sleepfilled yet an oddly haunted pair of emerald green eyes. He saw an expression in them suddenly that made him sharply pull his hand from Harry's and recoil into the pillows.

"I'm-I'm sorry. For it all." Harry said softly, turning his gaze downward.

"For what Potter? What have you got to be sorry bout other then being the annoying git you usually are." Draco said regretting instantly at the sharpness of his voice and moreso for the fact he couldn't control even what he was saying.

Harry didn't rise to the bait though, just sat there for a moment as if in debate at telling Draco something he wasn't sure he should. He looked off to a corner of the infirmary and shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, then looked back to Draco, a strange expression in his eyes. Rising up out of the chair he turned his back and began to walk to the other side of the room, abruptly turning back though as if he'd decided to say something after all.

"Keep playing the game Malfoy, but you wont win. I'm not the 1st year little kid anymore, I dont play by the rules." he said without emotion, never taking his gaze from Draco's eyes. He said something else as well, something almost barely audible, but Draco's mind didn't register it at that moment. He turned back away then quickly and went back to his bed on the other side of the infirmary, as far from Draco as he could get.

Draco didn't even time to say anything back, he was too stunned by Harry's words. *Game? What's he getting at....how..how did he know?* he thought almost in shock. Yes he had been playing a 'game', but not anymore, only he knew that Harry couldn't have known that. How Harry knew the rest though was beyond him, till suddenly something struck him, and he shivered from the thought that he could even be right.

If Draco had experienced Harry's life as it were while sleeping, could it be remotely possible then that somehow, some way, Harry had 'seen' Draco's life? That Harry knew what had happened to him? He drew his breath in sharply realizing it could only be the truth, that would explain the look Harry had given him. The look of fear, anger, pity...and compassion that he had seen just moments before when Harry had woken up and gazed at him. That had to be it, there was no other reason for it...Harry knew!

Groaning in dismay he couldn't help but try to sink as far down into his bed as possible. Harry did know, but what he didn't or couldn't know was that Draco no longer wished to play that 'game'. He didn't want to make Harry his like that, all he wanted now was the real thing, the real emotions, the emotion to feel real 'love'. And somehow he was going to have to convince Harry of that, and soon, or Draco knew he would end up going over the edge. He couldn't get out of his mind the way Harry's hand had felt so good in his own, and the feelings it had brought to him. If Harry's hand alone could do that to him, imagine what it would be like to have Harry holding him in his arms, snuggling against him, snogging him...loving him. It was almost too much for Draco to bear.

As he tried to hold back the tears that now freely flowed from the pain and angst in his heart, he suddenly remembered the last words Harry had said to him, and gasped in surprize. It couldn't be true could it? Did he really hear them or was he imagining those words? The tears still flowed in grief, but underneath them a tiny bit of hope began to stir in Draco's heart. It was a hope he would hold onto, and never let go, for it was all he had for the future.

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2002-02-21 7:49:09 PM