Genre: Angst, Romance Rating: PG-13 Word count: 103k Tags: War time, Caring/Nurse, mention of torture and abuse
Summary:
Harry finds a broken and seriously injured Draco on his doorstep one night, and lets him in. When Draco tells Harry a story of pain and fear, the hero begins to rethink his feelings toward his enemy.
Quotes:
Knock, knock...Harry took a shuddering breath and opened the door, sticking his wand out until it hit whoever or whatever was there in the chest.
"Who's there?" Harry asked coldly, terror almost ripping him to pieces. They found me...Oh god, they found me... He heard a small cry of pain when his wand stabbed someone roughly. Harry peered into the darkness and dimly saw a person with pale skin, wearing dark robes with a hood. It was one of them...they had come. Harry didn't wait for an answer to his question,
"Why are you here?" He demanded harshly, prepared to throw an attack at a moments noticed. The figure looked up, although it's face was obscured by the deep shadow cast by his hood. Harry repeated his question, "I asked..."
"Put your wand down, dammit. That hurts," The figure snapped, pushing the wand away from him. Harry froze.
"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" He asked, hate rushing through him and clouding his senses. The traitor; it didn't matter if he hadn't gone through with his plans, he was still a traitor. And Harry still hated him, more than he ever had.
"To be frank, I need a place to stay, Potter," The figure drawled in his usual tone.
"What the hell? You came here, to me, for a place to stay? Are you insane?" He spat, anger still coursing through him.
"Some think so, actually, quite a few do. And, yes, I came to you...obviously," Came Harry's answer in that cool, civil voice.
"Why the hell are you here? I could kill you right now, and believe me, I really don't think I would have a problem with that," Harry snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously. The figure lowered his hood, and looked up at him with steel gray eyes. Harry felt some of the hate drain away. When he looked into Draco's eyes, it was as if he was looking into a mirror. It didn't matter that those eyes were gray, unlike his own. They had the same look. That same haunted, pained, and desperate look he had in his own eyes. They were eyes that had no youthfulness left in them; they were eyes that had seen too much.
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