The Road to Recovery (Drarry)

~*~Chapter Fifteen~*~

"I don't like talking about mine either," Hermione confessed after a brief moment of silence, referencing her nightmares.  This was the first time Hermione had brought up the fact that she too, suffered a the hand of her nightmares.  "But it helps, Harry, it truly does."

"Thanks, Hermione," He said, and he meant it.  She was trying to help, and he appreciated that, he just didn't know if it made him feel any better or not.

"Well, I have an essay due for Advanced Arithmancy next week, so I'll be in the library if you need me.  See you at lunch," and she was off.

As it was Saturday, Harry should have spent the day catching up on the schoolwork he was behind him.  Naturally, he did no such thing.  He wanted to escape and to not have to think, so he went to the one person he knew could help him with that; Draco.  They were each others coping mechanisms.  Without knowing it, they were helping each other stay sane, and now, Harry needed that more than anything.

~*~*~*~

"The castle, it was closing in on me from all sides.  And then it all when dark and he was there.  He's always there."

Harry and Draco were sat in the Astronomy tower, figuring that at 10 am on a weekend, it would be the safest place to meet.  Knowing this, they sat comfortably.  They were shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the sky, with their fingers intertwined.  Nothing about either of their lives was ever going to be normal, but this felt pretty damn close.

Harry laughed bitterly.  "You would think that killing someone would make them leave you alone."

"He's usually in mine as well.  Instead of killing me, though, he's making me kill someone for him.  Again."  Harry heard Draco's tone go monotone, as it does when talking about someone unpleasant.

He ran a thumb over the other boy's knuckles before bringing them up to his lips and gingerly kissing them.  He had never done that before, and doing so made him nervous in a good way.  The small smile on Draco's lips calmed him.  Anything he could have said, such as an apology for Voldemort forcing him to act against his will or else he would have killed his parents, would have sounded stupid, so he said nothing.  They sat with Draco's knuckles still by Harry's lips, Harry's knee resting on Draco's thigh, their shoulders touching.  In this moment, they understood each other, felt for the other.  Just the mere presence of the other made them feel better.  This moment, it was theirs -only theirs- and it felt damn good.

"Your family," Harry finally said, breaking the silence and looking over at Draco.  "What are they really like?"

Draco's gaze remained fixed on the clouds above them.  "My father has made mistakes, not all of them for the right reasons, but he's a good man.  He will fight for what he believes and do what he must to protect his family.  I don't agree with everything he says or believes in all the time, and I will admit that the ways he has fought for his beliefs and the tools used have been wrong in the past, but I've always admired that quality in him.  His ambition to do what he sees necessary to initiate change... I've always wished to be like him in that way.  It was probably that that put me into Slytherin above anything else.  My mother trusts he always knows what he's doing.  They don't always see eye to eye, but if he asks her to do something she disagrees with, she trusts he wouldn't be asking without a good reason."

"They're like completely different people from your point of view.  Maybe not your mum, though.  Her lying to Voldemort's face to save me kind of showed that she wasn't head over heels for him like some of the others."

"What is my father like from your point of view?"

"Nothing you'd like to hear."  Harry didn't want to get Draco upset now, and he had a feeling that calling Draco's father a no good, lying bastard, traitor to the entire wizarding world, and all around complete shit of a human, wouldn't have helped him in achieving that goal.

"No, probably not," Draco said seemingly reading Harry's mind.

Harry sighed, resting his head on Draco's shoulder without thinking about it.  He couldn't think anymore; he felt like his brain would give out if he did.  Thinking and talking was draining him.  That was why he asked Draco a question he figured would get him talking.  He didn't feel like doing that himself.

"I can't think anymore," Harry confessed out loud.  "I don't want to think anymore."

Draco chuckled softly and moved to where he was facing Harry.  Leaning in close, he whispered, "That can be arranged," before kissing Harry deeply and clearing both of their minds.

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