Medical Magic (Drarry)

Chapter Four: A Meeting

            Draco stumbled into his apartment, tripping over his fluffy black cat Corvus.

"Dammit, Corvus, you need to back up." Draco continued his way into his kitchen, dropping the bag of McDonald's he'd picked up on his way home onto the table. He flicked his wand, turning on all the lights and the TV. Sitting down to eat, Draco snorted. Never in a million years would he had ever expected the posh brat he'd been growing up to lower himself enough to eat muggle fast food, yet here he was.

He flicked his wand, turning the volume up on the TV. There were two things Draco couldn't deal with – the silence and the dark. Neither of which had been a problem until Draco had come home and found his boyfriend shagging some random dude. Draco had promptly chucked Chance out, taking his key from him and throwing his things out the door after him.

Chewing while he contemplated his ex, Draco decided he'd never really loved the dark-haired man; he'd just loved the comfort he'd brought him. Draco had felt less alone when those green eyes were staring back at him. There was something about the combination of dark hair and green eyes that drew Draco in. A sneaking suspicion over the last couple of years began and ended with none other than Harry Potter.

Really, it shouldn't have been quite as big as a shock as it was when he finally realized he'd been attracted to Harry Potter for years – after all, he'd been obsessed with the other boy. Now, as an adult thousands of miles away, Draco still sought comfort from men that looked like him. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him.

Corvus wound his way between Draco's legs. Finished with his hamburger, he bent down and picked up his best friend, cradling the purring beast against his chest. "You wouldn't hurt me, would you, baby?" Draco cooed. Corvus gently bumped Draco's shoulder with his head. "That's what I thought."

Draco stood, still holding his cat, and made his way to the bathroom. Putting Corvus in the sink, one of his favorite places to be, Draco quickly stripped, avoiding the mirror above his sink. He hated the scars that crisscrossed his torso, a permanent reminder of Harry's hatred.

Stepping under the steaming stream of water, Draco sighed, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders to work some of the tension from them. His thoughts turned back to Harry Potter, and when he opened his eyes, the man stood before him.

His brain had started presenting apparitions of the Golden Boy not long after he left Europe. At first, he'd thought he was going crazy, but he slowly came to realize that they were stress-induced and nothing too serious, all things considered. His magic was just reaching out and creating a soothing image for Draco. The fact that his soothing image was Harry fucking Potter had stopped bothering him years ago. It was almost like having a friend again.

"Harry."

"Draco."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Harry frowned at him, and Draco faltered. His imaginary Harry never frowned. "I'm looking for you, Draco."

"What?"

"I'm looking for you," the raven-haired man said again. "Let me find you."

"I don't want to be found." Draco didn't like where this conversation was going. It wasn't very soothing at all.

"You have to come back, Draco. Please," Harry reached out his hand, and Draco took a step back. His dream Harry never tried to touch him. Panic started coursing through him, and magic started pulsing off him.

"Who are you?"

"Harry."

"No, who are you!?" Draco screamed.

"I don't have much time. Where are you, Draco?"

Draco shook his head mutely, terrified. He was naked, wandless, and what he had thought was his usual imagined companion had turned into a complete and utter nightmare. Something wasn't right here.

Harry flickered and then was gone.

Draco stood gulping in air. What the hell had just happened?

Suddenly a thought too terrifying to process entered his brain – what if that had been the real Harry Potter?

On the other side of the world, Harry lay crumpled on the floor. He'd never be able to perform that magic again – he could feel how weak he was. Projecting yourself was a powerful piece of magic, and projecting yourself to an unknown location was virtually impossible. Harry had no idea how he'd done it.

Now he was lying on the ground, in agony, scared to move any part of his body for fear the pain would intensify. He felt hot tears on his cheeks but didn't wipe them away. He now knew two things: Draco was very much alive, and he seemed to be safe.

In addition, Harry had now seen the other man naked. He'd tried not to stare, as that was rude, but he hadn't been blind. Draco was lean and fit and just as attractive now as he had been in school.

The thought bothered Harry. Had he always found Draco attractive? Perhaps. Harry had known he liked guys for years, along with girls, but he had never considered whether he was attracted to the blond. Giving it a moment's thought, he decided he was. Perhaps that was why he'd always been drawn to Draco. The idea didn't give him any comfort.

"Where are you? Why didn't you tell me, Draco?" Harry continued to lay on the ground, thinking until the aches subsided. When it was manageable, Harry got off the ground and went to Draco's map. "Where are you?"