Lost

Chapter Twenty-One

Sweet Revenge and Sorrowful Farewell

Laughing gleefully, the little boy stood up, rushing quickly towards his shelter. Exclaiming, and pointing to his sand castle, he jumped up and down in excitement, sand spraying all about each time his little feet impacted with the beach ground.

Finally taking his eyes off his precious sand building, joy sinking to a mildness that shone in his smile, he turned. Sitting there, grinning at him, was such a happy gaze, emerald and glowing, so sweet, so kind, so loving, that the little boy began to laugh again. Purring as the nice ebony haired man ruffled his pale mop, the little boy squealed, and then reached out to touch his tiny hands to the much larger hands of the man.

Suddenly, looking down at his hands, the little boy saw that they leaked crimson...blood; it flowed from his fingers, little streams of hate and sin, merciless. Looking up in shock, the boy found himself staring at a different person than before. Shrewdly returning his stare, frowning, was that familiar pair of blue grey eyes...that gaze...how horrifically similar it was to his very own...

Jumping back from the terror, the little boy fell to the ground, eagle spread, and the mean man who had replaced the nice one approached, leaning towards him, grasping white hands intent on evil...

The little boy, crying his heart out, began to loudly scream...and scream...and scream...

"NO, STOP! Don't touch me, get away!"

Thrashing wildly, Draco couldn't see, hear, or comprehend the real world, swept up in his nightmare, twisted in sheets, flailing his arms, protesting against the touch of anything human. Yelling every insult, every protest, crazed, he was consumed by a fit of emotion, rage, sorrow, need, so many things overpowering him, building up inside.

Finally, slowly stilling, he lay back down on his bed, eyes wide open, forcing them not to close for fear of the nightmare returning. Breathing heavily, body trembling, he lay like that for a few moments, before curling up into a ball. He whimpered as he felt a hand on his shoulder, but reluctantly turned to see who it was. Gazing solemnly down at him was the Headmaster.

Immediately turning away, now reawakened to the real world, the now, Draco remained silent. He rubbed his eyes as Dumbledore spoke, "Draco...it is with joy that I find you conscious again. However, I see that your recovery has not been spent entirely peaceful...reminiscence of what happened in the OtherWorld, perhaps?"

Shaking his head, Draco mumbled, "How did I get back here? Who brought me back from the OtherWorld?"

"It was difficult getting you out. Very much so. Although you defeated Voldemort, his followers, monsters, still remained, and it was with great difficult and use of rarely used magical artifacts that I and some Ministry members retrieved you. Lucky that Charlie was there, or that dragon of yours would have had a wizardly meal."

All words were drowned out from Draco's ears except a select few, as, eyes wide, openly showing his shock, he turned towards Dumbledore. Blinking a few times, he then blurted, "Voldemort is defeated? I...I...?"

The Headmaster nodded, smiling at the Malfoy's boy's obvious surprise, saying, "Yes, Draco, Voldemort is defeated and it was mostly your doing."

"But...the spell I launched...it was going to destroy everything, and everyone...it was too powerful...I lost control of it before I could do what had been planned by Harry..." Tears welled up involuntarily in Draco's eyes, as he remembered the terror of letting go of Harry's hand. Wiping some tears away, he buried his head in the pillow, letting the silence drone for a few minutes.

Then, not bothering to lift his face from the pillow, he said muffledly, "Is he...alive? I...I let go of his hand...I didn't mean to! I was going to go along with his plan, but then I lost control of the spell, and..." Draco sighed, before continuing.

"Don't lie to me. Tell me the truth, damnit. I don't deserve to be here, living, for all the help I've done to anyone. I would go through it all over again, give up anything, even defeating Voldemort...as long as I hadn't let his hand go..."

Giving the boy a sympathetic look, Dumbledore gave a small smile, saying, "Voldemort was destroyed the second your spell hit him. True, your spell was powerful, and not formed entirely accurately or completely, but it was enough power to destroy the Dark Lord and the dark parts of the OtherWorld that he controlled. As for Harry, Harry is...well, he is in a muggle jail...but very much alive."

-----*-----

Stiff, formal, and determined, Draco sat silently, waiting. Surrounded by muggles, the enormous audience behind him filled with muggles and wizards, he somehow didn't look too out of place. Harry wasn't a very bad lawyer, either, as he had found once the boy had first walked into court. Now, staring back into that emerald gaze, hopeful, Draco almost felt like praying.

But this wasn't quite like him, he'd never really delved into the question of as to whether he believed in God or not, so thus, he dismissed that. There was always the fact that, even if it did land he and Harry in Azkaban, he could cast a spell on the jury and judge if they said he was guilty. Of course, regardless of some measly evidence, he was innocent; never had he murdered a human being in his life, and certainly not that muggle girl!

If he was cleared, and claimed innocent of charge, he and Harry would then work about putting the Death Eaters who had broken the spells separating muggles from the wizard world into Azkaban. Regardless of the cost, of the fact that one of them, he knew, was his very father, he would get his revenge. And it would be sweet, indeed.

-----*-----

Draco felt a surge of happiness shoot through him. Everything was well, and he and Harry had landed all the guilty wizards who'd served Voldemort in jail. And now, standing before him was this old man, who, if it wasn't for him, Draco wouldn't ever have known about his scar link with Harry, and would never have been able to enjoy love.

The old man Draco had met in the Malfoy dungeons a year or so ago had changed. Now, his clothes and shoes were comfortable and whole, his skin was clean, hair cut. And--finally!--teeth also clean and straight (Draco was very grateful and astounded about this; he had been doubting even magic could cure such rotted, ugly, old teeth).

Smiling, he gave the old man a pat on the back, and then a hug, saying, "Well, old codger, I'm glad you'll finally be able to enjoy the world."

"And the sunshine! It was always so dark and dirty in the dungeons. Why, I remember once when I had to..."

Draco, his smile now fake, tightened his hug extra hard, making the old man stop for breath. Although having a mind filled with knowledge, the old man had a habit, now free, of telling everyone about his memories of the sick life he'd had in the dungeons. And of course he just had to add that they were the Malfoy dungeons. Draco and his mother and name were looked upon a little less maliciously now, but some people still were suspicious that he would turn up just like his father, and be evil, one day turning upon Harry. This aggravated Draco greatly, however much he tried to ignore it.

Pulling back from the hug and giving the old man a terse smile, he said, "I thank you for everything you've done for me. If it wasn't for you a lot of aspects I enjoy in life I wouldn't have now. I wish you a happy life, and good luck with your autobiography and will."

Nodding at the youth, the old man grinned, saying, "And thank you for the...well, not the hospitality, that's for sure, but for returning to me the rights of living a humane life. Farewell, Draco Malfoy."

The old man turned away, and began walking away. Then, turning back, he said, "By the way, my name is Sir Dicitmus Ausdullei--you never did ask."

Winking, Draco said, "Oh, well, you know...it's just not my style."

Nodding and waving, Sir Ausdullei set out in a slow trot, his figure soon in the distance. Faintly, Draco heard the call back to him, "May you and Potter live happily ever after!"

Sputtering, Draco turned around, face beet red, but found himself utterly at a loss for words. He settled for a "Hmph!"

Chapter Twenty-Two

Of Handprints and Chocolate

The wind blew steadily, shaking the trees slightly, as the stars glowed out in the night, icy twinkles increasing the gorgeousness of the moon. A hand brushing through the swirling mass of his ebony mane, Harry leaned contentedly against his pillow replacement, listening to Draco hum an ancient tune. Hugging Draco's arm tighter against his waist, he edged closer to lean against Draco's body.

His ears perked up as Draco murmured, "You know...there's something different about tonight. Different from the other nights we sit here, I mean." Leaning his head back to look up at Draco, Harry frowned slightly, eyes glittering in contemplation.

Then, moving to sit sideways in Draco's lap, the Harry asked, "What do you mean? Why?" Gaze roaming all over Harry's figure, idolizing the Seeker, Draco was silent for a few moments. This boy should be all he needed. And yet...

"I want chocolate. I need chocolate, Harry. I haven't eaten all day...and my sweet tooth is driving me insane." Bursting out laughing, Harry shook his head at the unpredictability of his boyfriend. He really had thought it would be something more exciting, something dangerous, more meaningful...he'd gotten so used to adventure in his life, hunger seemed too simple.

Then, smiling, he draped his arms around the other boy's neck, laying his head on Draco's shoulder, saying, "Aaawww, does the widdle swythewin want some candy?"

He laughed again, laughing even more as Draco frowned slightly. He couldn't help it; the Malfoy's wide range of facial expressions compelled him, he loved each and every one.

Then, becoming serious, Harry dug a hand into his pocket, watching as Draco's eyes followed the movement, and then, after a few moments, he took out a deformed gob of...something. Holding it up, then slowly unwrapping it, Harry eyed it suspiciously for a few moments before placing it in Draco's palm, saying, "It's muggle chocolate...but still sweet. Don't worry, it won't poison you. Utterly harmless."

Grinning, he watched as the Slytherin continued to stare at it dubiously, as if expecting it to jump down his throat and choke him at any moment, or make his head fall off. Seeing that the other boy seemed in a state of hesitant standby, Harry grabbed the piece of chocolate, splitting it into two halves. Then, handing one half to Draco and placing the other ready at his lips, he said, "You're denying yourself what you really want. I'll force feed it to you if I have to!"

Then, popping the piece of chocolate into his mouth, Harry enjoyed the flavor for a few moments...sweet, and not bad at all. It wasn't all that different from wizard chocolate; just a lot less fun and creative. Pulling Draco's face closer, Harry then leant in for a kiss. Immediately, the Slytherin awakened from his stupor, savoring the sensation as well as the chocolate taste.

When the kiss finally broke, it left a sweet aftertaste. Eyes now gleaming, hunger seemingly satiated, Draco gave Harry a radiant smile. Returning the smile, Harry asked, "Satisfied now?"

"Never. Not until I get another kiss...or two..."

They both leaned forward. Pausing, his lips not half an inch from Draco's, Harry grinned, saying, "Or perhaps three..."

If someone had passed by at that moment, they would have deciphered the giggles from the room as two girls perhaps enjoying a joke, not as two boys, happily and utterly in love.

-----*-----

"I WON!"

"Won? Won, my arse, Harry! You barely got above the purple mark!"

"Oh, purple mark, shmurple mark! I'll give you a purple mark, you prat! Get over here."

Hyped up, Draco flew down to where Harry stood, zigzagging and twirling upside down on his broom. Getting off of it, he walked to stand inches away from Harry, and cocking his head to one side, giving an innocent grin, he asked, "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Don't give me that look!"

Unable to hide the smile creeping upon his features, Harry bent forward, grasping behind Draco's back, saying, "You snatched my wand! Draco, I'm not a Summoner like you, I need that!"

Lifting his empty hands to show Harry, Draco chuckled winningly, saying, "Oh, really? Just like you need to 'find ingredients for Potions' every time you come to meet me on the Quidditch field? Ahha, right, I believe you."

Looking up from his bent position to glare at Draco, Harry lost his balance as Draco pushed him, hard. He fell to the ground in a heap, on top of Draco in a tangle of limbs. He lay there, catching his breath, before attempting in vain to get up.

He could hear the smirk in Draco's voice as the boy asked him, "How many push ups can you do, Harry?" Shaking his head, Harry refused to tell.

"I guess you exercise your legs hanging on to the broom rather than your arms reaching for the Snitch, hm? Besides, you show off and do all those 'no hands' tricks."

"Do not! I do those because I need to! They are not 'tricks.' Except maybe the occasional experimentation Wronski Feint..."

Harry lay his head back down on Draco's chest, yawning. As the Slytherin moved to wrap his arms around Harry's waist, Harry looked up, entranced by the sexy way the top three buttons of Draco's shirt were unbuttoned.

Scooting up, he gave a few licks to the skin there before moving over to Draco's scar. Lightning-like shots of magic tickled through him as he felt his scar react, itching. Ignoring it, he was surprised of the effect his tongue's touch upon the Eye of Flame had on Draco, as the other boy let out a low moan. Bewildered by the obvious arousal this gave Draco, he began to fervently kiss the scar.

As the tempo thudded a notch too high for them to stand in their current tired conditions, Harry slowed, stopped, and then, placing his hands on the muddy ground on either side of Draco, managed to get up. Standing up, he wiped his muddy hands on his jeans. He gave the other boy a hand, and was about to walk away, when Draco yanked back on his collar.

Gasping for breath, Harry turned around, saying, "What?"

Pointing, Draco said, "Look."

Imprinted in the ground, where Harry's hands had pressed down upon he getting up, were two handprints. Smiling, Draco turned back to Harry, saying, "A token of your presence. 'Harry Potter was here.' I'll savor it and compare my hands to yours sometime when you're not actually here with me. Let's see how long they last."

Days later, when they checked, the handprints were still there!