Stop All the Clocks

chapter 6 - battle scars

Draco's mother motioned him to put Harry on the dining room table while she gathered some medicine and other remedies from the kitchen. Draco half expected his mother to say something, anything to him, but not once did she say a word.

Quietly, meticulously, she treated Harry's wounds. Harry would sometimes flinch and mutter something incomprehensible. Draco tried to stay aware of his surroundings, anything to keep his mind from spiraling into a dangerous downward spiral, but he couldn't.

How could this have happened to Harry? Why did it happen? Why was he the one who had found him? For some odd reason he felt as if it had to have been him.

Before he knew it Harry was writhing around in pain, gasping and sputtering like a grindylow out of water.

"Mum, what's wrong?" Draco exclaimed, worried Harry's health may be drastically declining.

"I had to put a special potion in his deeper wounds, it stings but it should stop them from getting infected. They may scar, however."

Draco subconsciously touched his chest. He traced the pale white lines that would forever brand him. He remembered when he had been sprawled on the floor, his blood seeping out of him, though really all he remembered was the look in Harry's eyes when he'd seen what he'd done, and then there was light and that was it. Harry had looked so scared that day, the most terrified Draco had ever seen him. Even more scared than when he'd seen Harry beaten and bruised on his knees in front of Draco, or even when Harry had come screaming from the maze during fourth year.

Draco had long forgiven him, sometimes he felt as if he'd deserved every ounce of pain he felt that day, but he hadn't forgotten. He could never forget seeing just what Harry was capable and of, how strong of a wizard he really was.

Narcissa noticed Draco's hand clutching his heart, but she didn't say anything. She also hadn't forgotten when she saw Draco's scars for the first time. They were red and angry and she had cried. To this day she still didn't know what had happened, didn't know the man she was healing had almost killed her son.

"He'll be fine," Narcissa told Draco after doing all that she could. "He needs rest, and lots of it. You're welcome to stay here for the night. He can stay in one of the guest rooms. I'll have the elves prepare supper and he can eat once he's up."

Draco's gaze was lowered towards the ground. He was trying to focus on his mother's words but he'd never felt so out of it.

"Thanks mum. I'll bring him upstairs and be down within the hour for supper."

His mom left him staring at Harry's serene face, which looked much better now that it was clean, but Draco still felt horrid.

Draco took apparated with Harry to the guest room and laid him on the bed, tucking a thick wool blanket around him. No one but Draco would ever know this, but that blanket was one that was very dear to him. The blanket had come from Hogsmeade the very first time he had ever gone. He'd seen it in the window and he'd been drawn to it immediately, though he didn't know why. He'd never shown this blanket to anyone, much less shared it, but for some reason he'd draped it on Harry.

Draco was exhausted. His life force had practically drained out of him during the last few hours. He thought of phoning Alex, telling him he was at his mothers and wouldn't be home that night, but for Merlin's sake he just wanted a nap. His plan was to watch Harry for a few minutes, make sure everything was okay, and then he would get ready for dinner and eat with his mum and then, finally, he would sleep, but it didn't work like that. Within mere minutes of sitting by Harry's side, he'd fallen asleep, his head laying on the bed close to Harry's chest so he could hear the rise and falls of his breaths.

Narcissa wasn't surprised to see Draco asleep. She took dinner to her room and ate alone. She missed Lucius, she loved him with all her heart and to have him gone was the worst thing in the world. She'd been so lonely in the manor, though she would never tell Draco, and sometimes she just wished she could hold Lucius again.

In the next room, Harry shifted. His eyelids fluttered as he finally regained consciousness, though barely. He was awake just long enough to see Draco's hair in a messy halo, like an angel off-duty. Harry ran his hand through it once, feeling so mournful about what had happened. How was he ever going to make it up to Draco?

Draco would never want to talk to him again. Harry had ruined Draco's life, and he wasn't ready to tell the truth.

The medicine took over again, though, and all his worries washed away and he was swept into a blissful sleep.

Draco, however, was not sleeping as peacefully.

Every time he came to the manor he was plagued by nightmares. Visions of Voldemort in his house. Memories of his father's abuse, both physical and verbal. From his sleep he cried, teardrops spilling onto the bed spread.

He awoke with a jolt, instantly forgetting the horrible visions that haunted him. He wasn't sure what time it was. It was too late for supper, he knew, but it wasn't early enough for breakfast.

Harry was still fast asleep, his breaths seemed deeper. Draco was still extremely tired, but by this point he knew he had to ring Alex. He dug around his pocket for his mobile, something he had just recently gotten now that he was adapting to living in a somewhat muggle fashion. Though he didn't want to leave Harry's side, he didn't want to wake him either, so he left the room and made the call from right outside.

The phone rang once, twice, then went to voicemail which meant Alex had deliberately declined the call.

Alex, I'm at my mother's, I think I'll be back tomorrow but I can't be sure.

Draco sent the text, hoping if Alex didn't want to speak then at least he'd see it and gain some form of reassurance.

He went back into Harry's room, about to check on him one last time before retiring to his bedroom for the rest of the night.

As he was leaving he heard a shuffle.

"Wait," Harry croaked, his voice a mere whisper, "stay."

Draco swallowed. He shouldn't. This was already too complicated and Draco really shouldn't be making this worse, but for some reason he could say no.

"Move over," he whispered, and Harry did the slightest shuffle.

Draco laid in the bed, pulling some of the blanket over him. He laid on his side, facing away from Harry so he could keep as much space away as possible, but eventually he grew uncomfortable and switched to his back.

He noticed Harry staring at the ceiling, obviously in thought, but didn't say anything. Instead, just allowing himself this one moment of weakness, he let his head fall gently on Harry's shoulder, and that's where he fell asleep.