Harry was in the bed of their room, half sitting half-lying, staring at the window he had created. It had been three days since the trial had taken place. Three days he had kept silent. Three long days that had been hell. Paradoxically, he wondered how his uncle was doing and how his aunt and cousin were doing. So far, he has only been replaying his memories to digest and fully integrate them.
Now he was asking himself a lot of questions. Questions he had never asked before. Like, why did Vernon rape him? Why had he been so beaten? What were the real reasons for his family's hatred of him?
But one question kept coming back in his mind. Why would Vernon be imprisoned for only five short years?
Severus, returning from the trial, had explained to him that Muggles could not receive the Dementor's down, and that they could not be imprisoned in a Witch Prison for more than five years. If they wanted justice to be done, they had to complain about the Muggle side. Harry had to think about it. But even knowing this, he could not help thinking that five years, compared to sixteen years of suffering, it was nothing.
In any case, Harry had too many unanswered questions in his mind for his own good.
Beside him, Severus turned the page of his book in silence. They seemed to take turns with Draco to take his "guard". Harry did not like blocking them that way in their lives, but he was sorely in need of time. To understand, accept and resume a new life. To be free, with them, simply.
As Severus turned a new page, the bedroom door opened violently. Blaise and Draco entered. Immediately, the Potions Master put down his book, frowned, and looked at his lover who held the Gazette in his clenched fist.
Harry watched as Blaise walked towards him to drop a kiss on his cheek.
- Hi, Harry.
- Hi Blaise.
The black did not add anything, Draco had warned him that the little brown needed time. Blaise sat down on the edge of the mattress and turned to his best friend. The latter, posted at the foot of the bed, unfolded the Gazette furiously to show all those present.
Harry jumped at seeing the title and the picture on one.
It was obviously a witch photo that had been taken certainly three days earlier. Above, Severus could be seen staring intently and Harry hung around Draco's neck whispering in his ear and caressing his back gently.
Above we could read in capital letters:
"WHAT DO WE CACH ON THE SAVIOR? "
Beside Harry, who was frozen, Severus jumped up, tore the paper from Draco's hand and stifled an expletive.
- But ... but I thought no one could talk about the lawsuit! exclaimed Harry, who did not understand anything.
Blaise put his hand on the knee covered with the brown cloth to calm him down when Harry's breathing got shorter and more sibilant. Draco also noticed the state in which his lover was going to settle near him. He explained to him:
- We are not talking about the trial, nor about its content. Rita Skeeter just wonders what can happen between us three. She informs the witch community that there is something fishy about it.
- Nothing said about the trial? Harry asked in a small voice, his eyes pegged to those of his vis-à-vis.
Draco smiled at him before stroking his cheek with his fingertips.
"No, nothing about the lawsuit," he confirmed.
The Slytherin Prefect leaned over and kissed Harry gently. To reassure him. To prove to him that he loved him like a madman. Then all three of them turned to Severus, who was cursing in silence, staring at the newspaper.
- What do they say ? Harry asked.
- Saturday in a lawsuit about Boy-Who-Lived, which we will not discuss here, we and my team and I found that Harry Potter, the National Hero (Biography, page 2-3 ) seemed very close to Severus Snape, a former Death Eater and currently Professor of Potion at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft (Biography, page 4) and Draco Malfoy, son of the still-fugitive Death Eater Lucius Malfoy (Biography, page 5). But what are we hiding? Something is preparing. Something fishy, ??ladies and gentlemen. But do not worry, your favorite reporter is on the case. Blablabla, Severus reads in a cold voice.
Harry stared at his lover, frowning. He knew that the majority of Hogwarts students were Gazette subscribers. Everyone would know that there was something between them three. But how were they going to do it?
Fortunately, before the trial they had cast a spell to hide their alliances, otherwise Rita Skeeter's weasel would have jumped at the chance. And their secret would not have been one.
- What are we going to do ? Draco questioned.
Dryly, Severus folded the Gazette and put it on the bedside table. He examined his lovers, and Blaise, before saying:
- Nothing. We will not do anything. We do not need to announce the Link before it's necessary.
"Good," Draco agreed.
Harry, he just nodded. Before plunging into the contemplation of the landscape, ending the discussion. Draco and Blaise left a few minutes later, leaving a mute Harry and a Severus just as quiet.
.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
.
Sitting against the bathroom door, Harry swayed back and forth. In his head again and again the memories of his uncle stained him forever. He could not forget it and would never forget it. Who could? He was doomed to live with. But Merlin was so hard.
However, he had to try turning a page of his life. Vernon could not hurt him anymore. Never again would he touch him, never again would he see him. It was an important dimension that allowed him not to choke with fear. Reliving his childhood during the trial had brought back a lot of emotion that he was trying to forget, to deny.
He had tried - Merlin he had tried - to act as if nothing had happened. But it was only lies. Everything had really happened and he would never wake up from this nightmare.
The limbs trembling violently, Harry got back to his feet. Tears of which he had not been conscious until then ran down his cheeks. When did he start crying? Surely when he had closed his eyes and the memory of a morbid clarity had begun to dance before his closed eyes.
His hands were shaking, his breathing was erratic. It reminded him of the crises at the beginning of the year. And the same feelings of emptiness turned inside him. Like an unpleasant backtrack.
Why could not he just forget?
Yet he asked nothing more. Just live as if nothing had happened. As if all was well. As if the feeling of defilement disappeared from him. As if life was beautiful. He had succeeded - Merlin! He had managed to deny all the facts. Until the trial.
A few hours had shattered all the psychic power he had put into action to combat these memories, these sensations, these unpleasant emotions. And now, he was so - so - tired.
In desperation, the brunet clung to the sink. With his head down to avoid his reflection in the mirror, he let the sobs come out of his throat. He mourned his lost childhood, his stolen virginity, his trampled innocence. He mourned the love he felt for Severus and Draco, the joy that made his once-broken heart beat when they took him in their arms. He mourned his desire to move on, his desire to live for him, his wish to turn the page. He cried to evacuate all he felt inside him. And he cried again.
So many conflicting feelings were fighting in him. So much rage and despair. So much love and joy.
He could not take it anymore.
With frantic gestures, Harry touched the razor blade on the edge of the sink with his fingertips. It would be so easy to be tempted. So liberating to let the blade run on her skin, fine as paper.
Blows against the shutter made him jump and he clenched his blade as if his life depended on it. The sobs kept coming out of his tight throat and he could do nothing to hold them back. Maybe he had to go through there to mourn his passing and finally see the future. Perhaps...
- Harry, open this door! ordered a baritone voice behind the door.
The cold blade in his palm bit the pulpit, pulling a grimace at him. A faint stream of blood ran down his fingers and Harry stared at him, hypnotized. Red, hot, he represented the life that flowed in his veins.
- Harry? Please, open the door ... "Draco's voice almost begged.
Eyes closed, his face ravaged by tears and pain, Harry dropped to the ground. He could not. He could not open it, that fucking door. Because if he did, his two lovers - his two dear lovers - would see him in such a state. They would see his decay, his misery and his pain. And he did not want them to find him ridiculous.
"I can not," he moaned. I can not...
"Harry, listen to me," Severus began softly. Do not do anything stupid Harry. We can escape. We can help you. We're here, okay? We will not leave. Never. You are our life Harry and we will never let you down. I know it's hard, that you have pain.
And how could they know? They were not him. Nobody was. Nobody could understand the evil that was eating him. He was misunderstood. Beloved, pampered, but misunderstood. And it was sad as an idea. Because he loved his loves with all his body, with all his soul and with all his heart. And they helped him. What would he have done without them? He would be dead, he would have lowered his arms, he would have been carried away by Death and would have flown away to become an angel among his own.
"You do not know," he whispered.
A slight silence followed his statement and for a moment Harry wondered if Severus had heard it.
"Yes, Harry, we do not know, you're right," said Draco. But we just want to help you, okay? We love you so much that we can not bear to see you so badly. You deserve to be happy.
- Why ?
"Because you're an extraordinary person," Severus replied.
A laugh without joy passed the barrier of his lips. No, no, he was not extraordinary. On the contrary. He was ordinary. He wanted so much to be ordinary. Nothing but a lambda person who would still have his parents, who would not have killed anyone, who would not have been raped. Just a man.
- Whispers us your fears, my love. Whisper your suffering. Tell us your despair. Scream your grief. But please, stop wallowing in silence.
Biting violently on the lower lip, Harry dropped his head back, eyes closed. His fingers were still clutching the blade, which quickly became hot against his palm. And the calm that contact engendered before did not come this time. Why ? Why was he not entitled to this lull? Why could not he soothe his breath? Why did his members keep shaking? Should he push the vice to cut himself to have the desired effect? But he would disappoint his two lovers so much that the idea made him want to throw up.
"I can not do it," he murmured in a broken voice.
He wanted us to get out of there, help him. But he felt like he was running every time you tried to keep him out of the water. As if the sea - this traitor - was happy to send waves, immersing a little more. The trial was a wave. A very big and very dangerous wave.
"We'll help you," said Severus.
- Open the door.
Gently, Harry let his head fall forward and opened his eyes hard. With a terrified hand, he brought the razor against the soft skin of his forearm. It would be so easy. So simple to hurt yourself and give up any will. But did he really want it? Everything was terribly confused. He knew that mutilating himself was bad. That if he yielded to temptation, he would disappoint his loves. And he did not want to. He wanted to show them that he was strong and that he would fight for them.
However, his strength was lacking. Terribly. Like an old man at the end of his life.
- Harry, please ...
- I do not want to disappoint you but ...
- You will never disappoint us. Whatever you do. Whatever happens. You remain the same in our eyes, the one we love: beautiful, intelligent, strong.
Fort. Of course he was strong. He had always been. It was a fighter. Of those who never gave up. But he felt so weak since the beginning of the year. So weak and so vulnerable. Like a castle of cards that collapsed at the slightest breeze. But maybe - maybe! - was he wrong?
"I want to live," he moaned, feeling his head throbbing because of his tears.
"And you will live," Severus assured him. We will do everything to make you feel alive. We will be there, at your every step, you shoulder. We will not let you go, Harry. I swear to you.
The throat tight, the above-mentioned felt his heart beat harder at this remark. He could live with Severus and Draco, here or elsewhere, and he would only know love and happiness with them. They would never leave him, they would never leave him. They would be there. Still and always. In the best and the worst. Until death separates them and a long time afterwards.
Hope dried up his tears and he let a breath of fresh air invade his lungs, calming his staccato breathing. Between his fingers he played with the blade. A morbid fascination prevented him from turning away from his fingers sticky with blood, turning the piece of metal over and over again.
He could do it. And he had to show all those who did not believe in him that he could do it. He would prove to his uncle that he was stronger than him and that he had not broken her. Only cracked, broken. And that a broken pot was repaired. With the right glue and the good luck.
The pursed lips, Harry dropped the razor that seemed to touch the ground in a sound of explosion. He stared for a moment at the scarlet drops that now stained the ground before staggering up and staggering to the door.
After removing the spell he had affixed to the shutter, he reluctantly opened it. Immediately, he was imprisoned in a warm embrace. Draco. He let himself go, buried his face in his neck and rubbed his nose against the sensitive skin. A soft hand came to caress her shaggy hair.
- Do not ever do that again, whispered the blond.
Harry shook his head gently as two strong arms wrapped around them. A sigh of well-being escaped him. He was in his place, between his two lovers. He was loved, protected and supported. And as the two embraces tightened around his shaking body, he says to himself that eventually, he would be able to live with it. He had to make an effort, especially not to crack and let time.
Time often made the difference.
.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
.
A heavy silence reigned in the bedroom. Severus tried not to cut him. Sitting on the bed, Harry writhed his hands nervously and the professor knew he was going to talk. It was only a matter of seconds now. Finally, he hoped, because he did not know if he could still hold a long time without saying anything.
The suffering of the little brown was palpable and his desperation saturated the air of the room. And Severus felt so helpless that he could not help her that his heart was crying in his chest. Her impassive face was still drawn for habitual eyes.
A week had passed since the incident in the bathroom. A week he had not been able to sleep soundly, for fear of finding Harry dead in the bathroom when he woke up. He could not do it and he also knew that when Harry or Draco had a nightmare, he was there to reassure them. He made himself useful in an attempt to prevent the feeling of helplessness that ran through his veins.
With a sigh, Severus turned a page from the book he was reading. Finally, reading was a big word. He did not understand anything but did not care about his first shirt. This book he knew by heart and it was only an excuse to stay close to the Gryffindor during this umpteenth event.
"My uncle was beating me," Harry whispered in the silence of the room.
Holding a relatively misplaced smile in such a context, Severus gently closed his book, keeping it on his lap and then looked up at the youngest, who looked paler than usual. In a big chair, Severus knew the importance of the discussion that would follow. For the sake of Harry. So, he had to be patient. Patient and loving. Solidary and empathetic.
"I know," he said softly.
- He never loved me and yet he touched my body as intimate people do. Why ?
When asked, Severus blinked several times. What could he say to that? What could he say to relieve Harry?
"I think," he hesitated, "what your uncle needed. The rape is that Harry. It's not just about sex. The rapist seeks a domineering hold, wants to assert his power over his victim or simply wants to destroy it. Your uncle is a barbarian who wished to submit to his will.
- I was already subject to him. From a very young age, I lowered myself in front of him to have a little love. I was only a kid, I was looking for that: tenderness. But he never gave it to me, whatever I do. I thought that if I accepted the blows without flinching, he would finally see me and I would exist in his eyes.
The black man's throat tightened as he thought back to his own childhood. Tobias had never liked him either, but the blows he had received had fueled his hatred for this despicable man. He let himself go because he knew that if not, the correction would be worse. Much worse. Then he had to watch over his mother. Even if it meant taking the shots in his place. Especially if it meant taking the shots in his place.
- You said it yourself, Harry, you were a child. A child who had lived without love all his life. You did not do anything that would drive your uncle to hit you or rape you. All is your uncle's fault and nothing but him. You did not do anything wrong.
- I know that. I think I understood that I had not looked for it. I just wanted to know ... why he did that.
- It's good that you do not feel guilty for that anymore.
Harry nodded slowly and silence returned to the room. Severus knew that it was not just that that was bothering the Gryffindor. Just as he knew that it was the trial that had generated such questioning. However, he remembered too well the state in which he had placed his medal and Harry had never wanted to talk to them about it. Maybe he would do it today. Or maybe not.
- My uncle was beating me, Sirius is dead, I killed a man and I'm scared, so scared ...
The young man burst into tears. Jaw clenched, Severus saw him curl up on himself and he hurried to sit on the edge of the mattress to tenderly grab his hand. All that tortured Harry was spinning in his head. Killed a man? Was he blaming himself for the death of the Dark Lord? And did he keep that for him? And then, he was afraid of what?
- Voldemort was not your fault!
- I know ! Blaise already told me but ... but I can not forget his surprised face when my Avada spun to him. And I ... I do not feel guilty for that, it's just ... that it turns in my head ...
- It was the first man you killed, that's understandable. I remember perfectly the first one I killed. It was on a battlefield. A father who tried to protect his children. I had to kill him, otherwise my place would have been compromised. What is laughable is that I never participated in a raid before being a spy, the Dark Lord wanted me to participate in the preparation of several potions. But this man who was shaking like a leaf while keeping his head high for his offspring, turned me upside down for years. I sometimes see him in my nightmares.
Severus stopped suddenly, realizing that he had just told a passage in his life that had at most disturbed him. Draco knew he had killed people - who did not know? - he was also aware that it could disrupt his nights, but he had never seen the interest of spreading out and across. Still, he wanted to reassure Harry, show him that we could surpass that. Of course, we could not forget, but we were learning to do with it.
- You had to do it. It was your life against his, whispered the brunette, raising his head and looking at him with his red but dry eyes.
- I know and I accept it. But you too, Harry, you had to do it. And there, it was not that your life against his, it was the life of all Muggles, Muggleborns and some of the Half-breeds. It would have been a killing, a bloodbath. You avoided the apocalypse. Do not torture yourself with that, especially.
"I'm trying," said the Gryffindor with a hesitant smile.
Hesitant, small, weak and uncertain. But it was a smile anyway. And it warmed Severus' heart, which tightened his fingers a little more in his hand. He caressed his wrist with his thumb and let a smile take place on his lips.
"You said ... you were scared," Severus said hesitantly. What are you afraid of ?
Harry had involuntary pressure around his hand before he looked away. A veil of shame settled on his pale face. Severus regretted for a moment asking the question. Then, finally, it was a lie. Even if it made the brown man feel uncomfortable, it was a necessary conversation. The one that would help him to overcome all the trials of his life.
"Not to be up to it," he whispered audibly.
- What height ?
He pressed his hand a little more in his, dreading the answer.
"Your height," Harry said, turning his head toward him. I'm afraid I'm not up to you and you realize I'm not worth anything.
Salazar! That's what he feared. A total devaluation and completely stupid. If the pig that served as his uncle had not been imprisoned, he would have tortured him for months, using him as a guinea pig for his potions. He would have made her regret having broken a child - because Harry had been a child when Dursley had started his mattow, a tiny and innocent child.
After getting close to the young man, Severus caught his white face in his big hands. He cupped his cheeks, raised his head and forced him to look him in the eyes. His eyes so sad, so lost.
"You will not lose us, I swear to you," he promised, stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs. Never. And you will not disappoint us. Because we love you and love is stronger than anything.
That it was silly and dripping good feelings. Severus had a hard time saying things like that but he had to take on him. He did not regret his effort when the green eyes sparkled with joy and a smile full of happiness tickled the tempting lips of the little brown.
"Kiss me," said the latter.
This time, it was Severus who felt his lips stretch. He was not good at showing off his feelings, but kissing, that he knew how to do.
Gently, he leaned forward while sliding one of his hands down his jaw, to the back of his neck, which he clutched tenderly. He saw Harry bite his lower lip while there was only a small centimeter separating them.
The Savior was the first to crack. Suddenly, he put an arm around his neck and filled the distance with despair. The kiss was not sweet. Severus cashed in the emotion that overwhelmed him, realizing that this kiss was a half-turned page. That it marked the end of a part of his life. Harry was pouring so much love and hope into this contact that Severus had a hard time keeping up. His hand tightened on the back of his neck to keep him from moving if he felt like it. He had never kissed brown before. He usually tried to be gentle and tender. But today all this tenderness had gone away. And Salazar what it was good!
When long seconds later they parted, Severus noticed the tears running down his cheeks. He wiped them meticulously with the palms of his hands and pressed one last time his lips against those of his vis-à-vis. He was going to move back to the chair when a firm hand closed around his wrist.
- Stay with me, please.
It was not said in a weak or broken voice. Just a slight intonation of shyness. He smiled again and settled down, Harry coming immediately to rest his head on his chest. Tenderly, he put an arm around the frail shoulders and stroked the bare shoulder with his fingertips.
"Always, Harry, always," he whispered, feeling the previously erratic breathing deep and steady.
Severus did not know what their future would be, but he was convinced of one thing. Harry would be better. It was sure. He was already healing. And that was the most important.
.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
.
Draco hurriedly opened the door of their room and huffed in relief as Harry sat cross-legged on the mattress with a book in his hands. Young Malfoy elegantly put a hand on his chest where his heart was beating fast. He was scared. Really very scared. And it was probably stupid but he could not help it.
When his bracelet had become slightly cold, he rushed home, knowing full well that Harry was alone for the first time since the trial. He was afraid not to find him in their room but lying in the bathroom emptying of blood. With relief, he leaned against the doorframe, his heart calming slightly.
Harry lifted his head, leaned it to one side and frowned.
- What are you doing here ?
- It was the first time you were left alone ... I was scared, he admitted reluctantly.
He had not been taught to talk about his fears and weaknesses. To be a Malfoy meant, on the contrary, to have no weaknesses. The Malfoys had to be strong, invincible, powerful. Not weak, not afraid, not submissive, not in love. All its opposite. Sometimes Draco wondered if he was really a Malfoy.
In front of him, Harry smiled tenderly and patted the mattress next to him. He also smiled, he walked gracefully to him and went on the mattress after removing his shoes. The brown man held out his lips to him and he hastened to put his own for a chaste exchange.
- What are you doing ? he asked after walking away.
He lovingly passed an arm around Harry's waist and laid a soft kiss on his neck just below his ear. The Gryffindor tilted his head slightly to the side to give him more room to maneuver.
- I'm looking at the photo album that Hagrid gave me in first year.
Draco turned his head, looked over his shoulder. His temple rested against the brown skull as his eyes wandered over the two photos that moved on the glossy paper. A man who looked a lot like Harry held a beautiful red-haired woman in his arms. She was extremely beautiful. Different in beauty from her mother - who was a very beautiful woman too - but she had to turn every head
- Your mother was beautiful.
- Yes, Harry whispered with a sweet smile. She was.
- You have his eyes.
- Only characteristic that I inherited from her.
- Yes, you look a lot like your father.
With a kind of reverence in his gesture, Harry ran his fingertips over the photographs. The two adults laughed and smiled at each other before dancing under a whirlwind of snow.
- That's what made me stand when I was there.
Draco tensed and tightened his hold on the thin waist. It was new. Before Harry spoke of these troubled times only when he was pushed, and now he spoke almost normally. Only a slight twitch in his voice betrayed his pain in talking about it. But he arrived there without crying, now. Big progress.
- That's the only memory you have of them? he asked softly, stroking the back of his free hand with his lover's pale cheek.
Harry leaned more against the warmth of his fingers as he closed his eyes. Draco smiled a little at the trust and love that came from him. And he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from jumping on him. Since the trial, they had not touched each other intimately and, even though he was restraining himself for Harry's sake, he was beginning to feel some tension.
He was not an obsessed, or a pervert. Just a young man in full possession of all his means with two lovers absolutely sublime. It should not be forgotten that they slept together, glued together. And the proximity of their hot bodies was quickly raising the tension at home. Severus seemed to be better at controlling himself, but that may have been related to age and experience.
Salazar, if he finds out I thought that, I'm dead, Draco thought, shivering slightly.
Be that as it may, he had realized that Harry could not yet conceive of having intimate relations with them. The memories of the trial, of his uncle and his little son had disturbed him. Normal. Draco knew that he would never force him to do anything anyway and he could restrain himself. He was not a dog in heat, either. Just ... maybe he was going to have to evacuate all that with a meeting in the shower with his right hand.
"I love you," he whispered, stroking the hollow of his neck with his nose.
- Me too and I promise you - I promise you - that I'll get better.
"I know," Draco smiled happily.
- I just need a little more time to get to the point and sort my memories. But soon I ...
- Do not worry, we have plenty of time.
Harry turned to him, smiled and placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. His eyes sparkled with joy, as they had not sparkled for months. He seemed to be changing into a new person. And it pleased Draco who did not like to see him sad, nostalgic or unhappy.
He was not so naive as to believe that the past could fade away with a snap of his fingers, but it could begin to fade. Slowly but surely. And the wound that was the body of the brown would close with time. Draco was sure of it. Then the scar would turn white to become a mere memory that would be part of him, his life, his story.
Draco also knew that it was a long way. Long and tortuous. But they would be there - Severus and him - to help Harry move forward and catch him if he stumbled. They would be there and always would be.
The weather was a balm. Now all that was left was waiting.