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Description
Title: Never Easy Part IX
Author: Ruby13b
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Mpreg
Summary: Sequel to The Recovery Boys. Loose ends are tied up. New drama occurs. It's never easy for Harry and Draco.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am owned by no one. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am not being paid for this.

This is a Harry/Draco fanfic. Meaning boy/boy. If you don't like don't read. You have been warned.

Everything was quiet. The sun shone brightly on the snow-covered grounds. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. As far as the eye could see everything was at peace in the morning light.

Draco buried himself deeper in his blankets, searching for a warm spot. Harry was no longer in the bed and therefore the bed was cold. Draco hated being cold. The Manor was like an icebox during the winter. Not to say that he hated winter itself, but he could do without the cold. Draco knew Harry loved winter. Why, he would never understand.

“Draco?” Harry called softly. “Draco, are you still in bed? It’s nearly ten o’clock. Hermione will be here soon.”

“Bugger off,” Draco muttered sleepily. If Harry was not going to come back to bed, then he needed to leave.

“Are you feeling alright?” Harry asked anxiously. It had been more than twenty-four hours since the tests and Draco had barely moved in all that time. Draco drifted in and out of sleep and had eaten very little. Harry brushed Draco’s blond locks off his forehead, laying his hand on Draco brow. Draco felt warm, but he was as pale as ever.

“I’m fine, Harry,” Draco said. “I want to sleep.”

Harry leaned over and kissed Draco on the forehead. Yes, Draco definitely felt hot under his lips. Harry sincerely hoped that he didn’t have a fever.

“Call if you need anything,” Harry told him seriously. Draco gave a groggy nod. As Harry left the room, he glanced back one last time at Draco.

                                                       ~~~

Harry found Hermione in the library. She had arrived sometime while Harry had been upstairs with Draco. Harry grinned when he saw her. It really made him feel nostalgic about their days at Hogwarts. Hermione was curled in a reading chair with a huge book propped on her lap.

“How did I know I would find you in here?”

Hermione was startled by the sudden intrusion and looked up from her book, blushing.

“Did you really think I would be anywhere else?” she asked.

“If you had been, we would have had to take you to the hospital,” Harry returned evenly. He sat down in the chair closest to hers.

Hermione looked around. “Where’s Draco, then?”

“He said he wanted to sleep,” Harry said. He smoothed the creases in his trousers with his palms. Hermione frowned. Harry looked up at her. “Don’t give me that look, Hermione. I’m just as worried as you are.”

Hermione nodded but said nothing. Harry entwined his fingers in his lap, looking down at them. For some reason he found that it was easier to look at his fingers than at his friend. Hermione got up from her chair and went over to the table in the center of the room. There was a stack of books neatly laid out, and Hermione began flipping through one at a time. Every now and then she would mutter something to herself. Harry could never quite make out what she was saying, but he reasoned if he was meant to hear it she would speak a little bit louder.

“There!” Hermione finally exclaimed. “Come look at this.”

Hermione was pointing at a passage in one of the books, and Harry got up from his chair to look at it. Harry craned his neck, reading the title of the book:

Fantastic Creature Medical Histories.

Frowning, Harry began reading the passage:

Because the mother’s life was in danger, the baby was in fact transferred into the father and, three months later, removed, fully developed and healthy. Such a transfer has never been attempted on any other kind of magical creature. Though, it is believed to be an achievable procedure on all kinds of magical creatures and also, quite possibly,* humans as well.

*This theory has not yet been proven.

Harry looked up from the book.

“What were they talking about?” he asked. “What kind of animal did they mean?”

“Now don’t get upset, Harry,” Hermione said slowly. Harry knew when she said not to get upset, she would say something upsetting. “They were Hippogriffs.”

A sudden image of Buckbeak popped into Harry’s mind. He shook his head and exclaimed, “Hippogriff, Hermione? They were Hippogriffs!?”

“I told you not to get upset,” Hermione said. She calmly closed the book. This aggravated Harry to no end, and he continued to talk.

“You might not think it, but Draco is a person. He’s not a Dragon and he certainly is not a Hippogriff!”

“Dragons lay eggs,” Hermione said.

Harry was distracted for a moment by this. “What?”

“Dragons don’t give birth to live young,” Hermione continued. “They lay eggs. And I never once said that he was either a Dragon or a Hippogriff. This is merely a theory worth considering if Draco has any more trouble.”

“That doesn’t mean…” Harry started. “Hang on.” He snatched the book out of Hermione’s hands, flipping through the pages until he came to the passage again.

…transferred into the father…

“You mean to transfer the baby into me, instead,” Harry said quietly.

“It is a remote possibility. But it would take more research,” Hermione admitted.

‘Of course Hermione wants to research more,’ Harry thought to himself. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to look into it,” Harry said out loud. To be completely honest, Draco hadn’t been well lately. Harry was more afraid for Draco than he would ever admit. If this could lay Harry’s worries to rest, he would do it. Draco wouldn’t be happy. Harry knew this. Draco would think Harry thought he, Draco, was weak.

“Draco is not weak, Harry,” Hermione told him, as if reading his thoughts. “But you are stronger. The baby would have a better chance.”

“And Draco would have a better chance, too,” Harry added. Having Draco safe and out of harm’s way would be a comfort to Harry.

“And Draco, too,” Hermione agreed.

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. “We can talk to Draco,” he said. “But I’m not promising anything.”

                                                         ~~~

“NO!”

“Draco…”

“I said no!”

“Please be reasonable.”

“I understand what you went through to find this, Hermione,” Draco said. “But my answer is still no.”

“I told you. He’s too stubborn.”

“You be quiet, Potter,” Draco growled.

“Won’t you at least hear us out?” Hermione asked.

Taking a deep breath, Draco caved. “Fine,” he said sharply, “But make it quick.”

“Why? You have nowhere to go.”

“I thought I told you to be quiet!”

“That’s enough!” Hermione exclaimed, exasperated. “Honestly. Why you two haven’t managed to kill each other yet is beyond me.”

Draco straightened up in the bed, folding his hands neatly in his lap. Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding and walked over to the bed, sitting down. Draco immediately took Harry’s hand into his. Harry grinned and looked up at Hermione, who was watching them very carefully.

“See?” he asked her. “This is just how we say ‘I love you’.”

“Then you’ve been saying ‘I love you’ to each other since you were eleven,” Hermione returned, without missing a beat.

Harry choked on nothing while Draco hid a snigger behind his free hand. Harry gave him a reproachful look.

“You have to admit that she has a point,” Draco said, rubbing Harry’s hand. “I’ve probably wanted you before I even knew what I really wanted.”

“Can we please get on with it?” Harry whined. Remembering how they had behaved at Hogwarts was not something Harry wanted to do at the moment. Both of them had acted in ways which were truly mortifying at times.

“Yes,” Hermione said, clearing her voice. She launched into her explanation of what she had found. Draco didn’t look at her once during the whole time she was talking. He kept his gaze on his hand, which was locked with Harry’s in his lap. Harry didn’t like the look on Draco’s face. He seemed so sad and uncertain. It hurt Harry to see him like this.

“I see,” Draco said, when Hermione had finished. “There is no other way, then?”

Harry closed his eyes. He wasn’t surprised in the least by Draco’s response. He had been expecting this sort of reaction.

“Draco, we don’t think you are weak,” Hermione said, “It’s just…”

“Harry’s stronger,” Draco cut in. Hermione nodded. “I wanted to do this.” Draco’s voice was a faint whisper.

“And you’ve done a wonderful job,” Hermione told him seriously. “But it’s really the best thing to do. Not only for you and Harry, but for the baby, too.”

“But I--I--”

“Draco,” Harry said softly, “I know you don’t want to admit this, but you’re not doing well. I’ve seen you grow weaker day by day. It started before the tests, before we even moved to the Manor. You sleep all of the time yet you appear to be exhausted and you hardly eat. If this keeps up I’m afraid you’re going to die. Draco, please, I don’t want to be alone again.”

Harry suddenly found Draco’s arms wrapped around his waist, holding him. Harry pulled him closer with a dry sob, burying his face in Draco’s shoulder.

“Idiot,” Draco said fondly, “I’m not going anywhere.” Draco then looked at Hermione. “Find a way and we’ll do it,” he told her. Hermione beamed.

“I’ll get right on it,” she promised. She walked to the door, turning around one last time before leaving.

Draco turned his attention back to the sniveling mess in his arms that he called his boyfriend.

“Really, that’s enough,” Draco murmured. “You turn everything into such a calamity.”

Harry laughed, drawing away from Draco sheepishly.

“You do realize that this will be hard on you, too,” Draco told him. “I know you’re Harry Potter, but you can’t do everything perfectly.”

“You’ve done the first five months,” Harry said. “I think I can handle the last four.”

Draco laughed and settled down into the bed, pulling Harry with him. He snuggled against Harry. Harry wrapped his arms around him.

“You alright?” he asked. Draco nodded sleepily. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of Draco’s heavy, even breathing.

Harry was about to drift off into sleep himself when he felt it again: that strange feeling like someone was watching him. Harry sat up slowly in bed. He glanced down at Draco, who was sleeping peacefully. The door out into the hallway abruptly creaked open. There was no one on the other side. Harry’s vision blurred as he involuntarily slid off the bed and stumbled out the open door. He staggered down the hallway, holding onto the wall for support. He didn’t know where his legs were carrying him and he was powerless to stop them. Unexpectedly, Harry’s knees buckled, sending him crashing down to the floor. Everything went black.

When Harry woke, he noticed that he was not in the same place he had been when he lost consciousness. Harry sat up, rubbing his head and looking around. He was in the dungeon. Great. How he always managed to end up unconscious in basements he would never know. This was the same part of the basement he had been carried to the last time except—the door was missing. Harry got up and put his hand on the wall were the door had once been. There was no mistaking it, the door had disappeared.

Harry was suddenly aware that there was someone standing next to him. Harry looked down to see a small boy barely older than seven beside him. The boy had white blond hair, very pale skin and bright gray eyes. He was very pretty. He looked exactly like Draco. No, he was Draco, Draco as a small child. But how could that be? Draco was upstairs sleeping in his bed. Was this a dream? It seemed too real to be a dream.

The boy looked up at Harry, smiled a little and took Harry’s hand.

“Where’s the door?” the boy asked.

Harry stared bewildered at the small child. This definitely was not normal. The boy only smiled politely up at him and cocked his head.

What could the child mean by this? How did he know about the door? Harry opened his mouth a little and then closed it. The boy did not seem to be waiting for an answer. He appeared to be content with simply looking at Harry and watching him in a nonjudgmental way, the way that only a small child could.

Harry shook his head and the child was gone. Harry looked around, but the boy was nowhere in sight. He had completely vanished. Harry felt a chill run up and down his spine. Even though Harry felt that he was no longer being watched, he also felt that he wasn’t alone.

As fast as he could, Harry made his way out of the dungeon. No, he certainly would never like basements.



                                                          ~~~

Draco’s room was dark, lit only by a single candle burning on the night stand. Draco himself was curled in the bed on his side. He appeared to be still sleeping. Harry quietly shut the door and walked over to the window, peering glumly out of it. The grounds were murky and full of shadows. It was impossible to see a thing. Harry tilted his head back to gaze up at the stars. There were many nights that he wondered who else was looking up at the same thing. It made him feel like he wasn’t quite as alone as he thought. It was always the same thing at night. The nighttime seemed to last forever. There were many nights that he wondered if the sun would ever rise again. That was before the end of the war, before he had fallen in love with Draco. That time was a distant memory for him now, almost as if it had never even been real. He hated to think of that time. Though, if truth be told, it was that time which occupied most of his thoughts.

“You know,” Draco’s voice said, causing Harry to turn around. “Most respectable people are in bed at such an hour.”

Harry smiled, glad to have had his morbid thoughts interrupted. He went over to Draco, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. “It’s a good thing I’m not a respectable person, then,” Harry replied with a grin.

Harry watched Draco pull the covers up under his chin. He looked very small, almost like a child. It was suddenly very easy to imagine Draco as a child in this room. Harry could almost see the years being lifted from Draco until he really was a child again.

“What’s wrong?” the child Draco asked.

Harry shook his head and the older Draco was in the bed again. Draco gave him an inquisitive look. “You should be asleep,” Harry said quietly, shaking his head again.

“As should you,” Draco returned evenly. “I will not have you turn into an insomniac over this. You’ve spent too much of your life not getting proper sleep as it is.”

Harry grinned. “Someone has to watch over you,” Harry told him playfully. “I’d rather it be me.”

Draco suddenly got a very serious expression on his face. It was part-way between a frown and what Harry suspected were unshed tears. Draco looked up at the canopy of his bed, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“No one has ever taken care of me like this,” Draco admitted in a whisper.

“Never?” Harry asked. He was surprised. He thought with all the money the Malfoys had, Draco would have received the best of care.

“No one has ever taken care of me because they loved me,” Draco amended quietly. “The house-elves always tended to me then.” Draco paused, as if he was beginning to remember something. “No,” he said slowly, “That’s not true. Once, when I was…well, I couldn’t have been more than seven or eight, I fell very ill and I was not expected to live.”

Harry listened without interruption. He had never heard this story before. Harry couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like if Draco had died at such a young age. Draco would never have gone to Hogwarts. Harry would never have met him. Hermione would not be alive now. Harry took Draco’s hand in his, kissing the back of it before Draco continued.

“I was very delirious. I don’t recall many of the events that took place. I only remember one night when I was particularly ailing and the Healers declared I would not last the night, my mother stayed by my side throughout the entire night. She was crying and she begged for my life to be spared. She lit so many candles. The room was so bright, almost as if it was daytime. And she prayed to whatever gods there were to keep me safe from death. She…she…” Draco broke off.

“Whatever she did, I’m glad she did it,” Harry said, stroking Draco’s hand with his thumb.

Draco turned his watery eyes to meet Harry’s. “So am I,” he choked. “Harry…”

“Shhh,” Harry breathed. He climbed into the bed next to Draco, pulling him close. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day.”

“Thank goodness,” Draco sighed. Cuddling as close as he could, Draco fell into sleep. It was childish, but being held by Harry made him feel like nothing could ever go wrong.

Harry listened to Draco’s breathing become steady and deep as Draco drifted out of consciousness. Harry settled back, his eyes wide open. He hadn’t told Draco about the encounter with the boy. He didn’t know why but he felt it wasn’t important enough. Draco didn’t need anything else weighing on his mind at the moment. He especially didn’t need Harry’s overactive imagination making him fret. It was like Draco had said: Harry turned everything into a calamity. Sometimes Harry thought that he, himself, was really more trouble than he was worth.

He knew that Draco had wanted him to fall asleep, but he would have been lying if he said he had that night.

Description
Title: Never Easy Part IX
Author: Ruby13b
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Mpreg
Summary: Sequel to The Recovery Boys. Loose ends are tied up. New drama occurs. It's never easy for Harry and Draco.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am owned by no one. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am not being paid for this.

This is a Harry/Draco fanfic. Meaning boy/boy. If you don't like don't read. You have been warned.

Everything was quiet. The sun shone brightly on the snow-covered grounds. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. As far as the eye could see everything was at peace in the morning light.

Draco buried himself deeper in his blankets, searching for a warm spot. Harry was no longer in the bed and therefore the bed was cold. Draco hated being cold. The Manor was like an icebox during the winter. Not to say that he hated winter itself, but he could do without the cold. Draco knew Harry loved winter. Why, he would never understand.

“Draco?” Harry called softly. “Draco, are you still in bed? It’s nearly ten o’clock. Hermione will be here soon.”

“Bugger off,” Draco muttered sleepily. If Harry was not going to come back to bed, then he needed to leave.

“Are you feeling alright?” Harry asked anxiously. It had been more than twenty-four hours since the tests and Draco had barely moved in all that time. Draco drifted in and out of sleep and had eaten very little. Harry brushed Draco’s blond locks off his forehead, laying his hand on Draco brow. Draco felt warm, but he was as pale as ever.

“I’m fine, Harry,” Draco said. “I want to sleep.”

Harry leaned over and kissed Draco on the forehead. Yes, Draco definitely felt hot under his lips. Harry sincerely hoped that he didn’t have a fever.

“Call if you need anything,” Harry told him seriously. Draco gave a groggy nod. As Harry left the room, he glanced back one last time at Draco.

                                                       ~~~

Harry found Hermione in the library. She had arrived sometime while Harry had been upstairs with Draco. Harry grinned when he saw her. It really made him feel nostalgic about their days at Hogwarts. Hermione was curled in a reading chair with a huge book propped on her lap.

“How did I know I would find you in here?”

Hermione was startled by the sudden intrusion and looked up from her book, blushing.

“Did you really think I would be anywhere else?” she asked.

“If you had been, we would have had to take you to the hospital,” Harry returned evenly. He sat down in the chair closest to hers.

Hermione looked around. “Where’s Draco, then?”

“He said he wanted to sleep,” Harry said. He smoothed the creases in his trousers with his palms. Hermione frowned. Harry looked up at her. “Don’t give me that look, Hermione. I’m just as worried as you are.”

Hermione nodded but said nothing. Harry entwined his fingers in his lap, looking down at them. For some reason he found that it was easier to look at his fingers than at his friend. Hermione got up from her chair and went over to the table in the center of the room. There was a stack of books neatly laid out, and Hermione began flipping through one at a time. Every now and then she would mutter something to herself. Harry could never quite make out what she was saying, but he reasoned if he was meant to hear it she would speak a little bit louder.

“There!” Hermione finally exclaimed. “Come look at this.”

Hermione was pointing at a passage in one of the books, and Harry got up from his chair to look at it. Harry craned his neck, reading the title of the book:

Fantastic Creature Medical Histories.

Frowning, Harry began reading the passage:

Because the mother’s life was in danger, the baby was in fact transferred into the father and, three months later, removed, fully developed and healthy. Such a transfer has never been attempted on any other kind of magical creature. Though, it is believed to be an achievable procedure on all kinds of magical creatures and also, quite possibly,* humans as well.

*This theory has not yet been proven.

Harry looked up from the book.

“What were they talking about?” he asked. “What kind of animal did they mean?”

“Now don’t get upset, Harry,” Hermione said slowly. Harry knew when she said not to get upset, she would say something upsetting. “They were Hippogriffs.”

A sudden image of Buckbeak popped into Harry’s mind. He shook his head and exclaimed, “Hippogriff, Hermione? They were Hippogriffs!?”

“I told you not to get upset,” Hermione said. She calmly closed the book. This aggravated Harry to no end, and he continued to talk.

“You might not think it, but Draco is a person. He’s not a Dragon and he certainly is not a Hippogriff!”

“Dragons lay eggs,” Hermione said.

Harry was distracted for a moment by this. “What?”

“Dragons don’t give birth to live young,” Hermione continued. “They lay eggs. And I never once said that he was either a Dragon or a Hippogriff. This is merely a theory worth considering if Draco has any more trouble.”

“That doesn’t mean…” Harry started. “Hang on.” He snatched the book out of Hermione’s hands, flipping through the pages until he came to the passage again.

…transferred into the father…

“You mean to transfer the baby into me, instead,” Harry said quietly.

“It is a remote possibility. But it would take more research,” Hermione admitted.

‘Of course Hermione wants to research more,’ Harry thought to himself. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to look into it,” Harry said out loud. To be completely honest, Draco hadn’t been well lately. Harry was more afraid for Draco than he would ever admit. If this could lay Harry’s worries to rest, he would do it. Draco wouldn’t be happy. Harry knew this. Draco would think Harry thought he, Draco, was weak.

“Draco is not weak, Harry,” Hermione told him, as if reading his thoughts. “But you are stronger. The baby would have a better chance.”

“And Draco would have a better chance, too,” Harry added. Having Draco safe and out of harm’s way would be a comfort to Harry.

“And Draco, too,” Hermione agreed.

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. “We can talk to Draco,” he said. “But I’m not promising anything.”

                                                         ~~~

“NO!”

“Draco…”

“I said no!”

“Please be reasonable.”

“I understand what you went through to find this, Hermione,” Draco said. “But my answer is still no.”

“I told you. He’s too stubborn.”

“You be quiet, Potter,” Draco growled.

“Won’t you at least hear us out?” Hermione asked.

Taking a deep breath, Draco caved. “Fine,” he said sharply, “But make it quick.”

“Why? You have nowhere to go.”

“I thought I told you to be quiet!”

“That’s enough!” Hermione exclaimed, exasperated. “Honestly. Why you two haven’t managed to kill each other yet is beyond me.”

Draco straightened up in the bed, folding his hands neatly in his lap. Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding and walked over to the bed, sitting down. Draco immediately took Harry’s hand into his. Harry grinned and looked up at Hermione, who was watching them very carefully.

“See?” he asked her. “This is just how we say ‘I love you’.”

“Then you’ve been saying ‘I love you’ to each other since you were eleven,” Hermione returned, without missing a beat.

Harry choked on nothing while Draco hid a snigger behind his free hand. Harry gave him a reproachful look.

“You have to admit that she has a point,” Draco said, rubbing Harry’s hand. “I’ve probably wanted you before I even knew what I really wanted.”

“Can we please get on with it?” Harry whined. Remembering how they had behaved at Hogwarts was not something Harry wanted to do at the moment. Both of them had acted in ways which were truly mortifying at times.

“Yes,” Hermione said, clearing her voice. She launched into her explanation of what she had found. Draco didn’t look at her once during the whole time she was talking. He kept his gaze on his hand, which was locked with Harry’s in his lap. Harry didn’t like the look on Draco’s face. He seemed so sad and uncertain. It hurt Harry to see him like this.

“I see,” Draco said, when Hermione had finished. “There is no other way, then?”

Harry closed his eyes. He wasn’t surprised in the least by Draco’s response. He had been expecting this sort of reaction.

“Draco, we don’t think you are weak,” Hermione said, “It’s just…”

“Harry’s stronger,” Draco cut in. Hermione nodded. “I wanted to do this.” Draco’s voice was a faint whisper.

“And you’ve done a wonderful job,” Hermione told him seriously. “But it’s really the best thing to do. Not only for you and Harry, but for the baby, too.”

“But I--I--”

“Draco,” Harry said softly, “I know you don’t want to admit this, but you’re not doing well. I’ve seen you grow weaker day by day. It started before the tests, before we even moved to the Manor. You sleep all of the time yet you appear to be exhausted and you hardly eat. If this keeps up I’m afraid you’re going to die. Draco, please, I don’t want to be alone again.”

Harry suddenly found Draco’s arms wrapped around his waist, holding him. Harry pulled him closer with a dry sob, burying his face in Draco’s shoulder.

“Idiot,” Draco said fondly, “I’m not going anywhere.” Draco then looked at Hermione. “Find a way and we’ll do it,” he told her. Hermione beamed.

“I’ll get right on it,” she promised. She walked to the door, turning around one last time before leaving.

Draco turned his attention back to the sniveling mess in his arms that he called his boyfriend.

“Really, that’s enough,” Draco murmured. “You turn everything into such a calamity.”

Harry laughed, drawing away from Draco sheepishly.

“You do realize that this will be hard on you, too,” Draco told him. “I know you’re Harry Potter, but you can’t do everything perfectly.”

“You’ve done the first five months,” Harry said. “I think I can handle the last four.”

Draco laughed and settled down into the bed, pulling Harry with him. He snuggled against Harry. Harry wrapped his arms around him.

“You alright?” he asked. Draco nodded sleepily. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of Draco’s heavy, even breathing.

Harry was about to drift off into sleep himself when he felt it again: that strange feeling like someone was watching him. Harry sat up slowly in bed. He glanced down at Draco, who was sleeping peacefully. The door out into the hallway abruptly creaked open. There was no one on the other side. Harry’s vision blurred as he involuntarily slid off the bed and stumbled out the open door. He staggered down the hallway, holding onto the wall for support. He didn’t know where his legs were carrying him and he was powerless to stop them. Unexpectedly, Harry’s knees buckled, sending him crashing down to the floor. Everything went black.

When Harry woke, he noticed that he was not in the same place he had been when he lost consciousness. Harry sat up, rubbing his head and looking around. He was in the dungeon. Great. How he always managed to end up unconscious in basements he would never know. This was the same part of the basement he had been carried to the last time except—the door was missing. Harry got up and put his hand on the wall were the door had once been. There was no mistaking it, the door had disappeared.

Harry was suddenly aware that there was someone standing next to him. Harry looked down to see a small boy barely older than seven beside him. The boy had white blond hair, very pale skin and bright gray eyes. He was very pretty. He looked exactly like Draco. No, he was Draco, Draco as a small child. But how could that be? Draco was upstairs sleeping in his bed. Was this a dream? It seemed too real to be a dream.

The boy looked up at Harry, smiled a little and took Harry’s hand.

“Where’s the door?” the boy asked.

Harry stared bewildered at the small child. This definitely was not normal. The boy only smiled politely up at him and cocked his head.

What could the child mean by this? How did he know about the door? Harry opened his mouth a little and then closed it. The boy did not seem to be waiting for an answer. He appeared to be content with simply looking at Harry and watching him in a nonjudgmental way, the way that only a small child could.

Harry shook his head and the child was gone. Harry looked around, but the boy was nowhere in sight. He had completely vanished. Harry felt a chill run up and down his spine. Even though Harry felt that he was no longer being watched, he also felt that he wasn’t alone.

As fast as he could, Harry made his way out of the dungeon. No, he certainly would never like basements.



                                                          ~~~

Draco’s room was dark, lit only by a single candle burning on the night stand. Draco himself was curled in the bed on his side. He appeared to be still sleeping. Harry quietly shut the door and walked over to the window, peering glumly out of it. The grounds were murky and full of shadows. It was impossible to see a thing. Harry tilted his head back to gaze up at the stars. There were many nights that he wondered who else was looking up at the same thing. It made him feel like he wasn’t quite as alone as he thought. It was always the same thing at night. The nighttime seemed to last forever. There were many nights that he wondered if the sun would ever rise again. That was before the end of the war, before he had fallen in love with Draco. That time was a distant memory for him now, almost as if it had never even been real. He hated to think of that time. Though, if truth be told, it was that time which occupied most of his thoughts.

“You know,” Draco’s voice said, causing Harry to turn around. “Most respectable people are in bed at such an hour.”

Harry smiled, glad to have had his morbid thoughts interrupted. He went over to Draco, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. “It’s a good thing I’m not a respectable person, then,” Harry replied with a grin.

Harry watched Draco pull the covers up under his chin. He looked very small, almost like a child. It was suddenly very easy to imagine Draco as a child in this room. Harry could almost see the years being lifted from Draco until he really was a child again.

“What’s wrong?” the child Draco asked.

Harry shook his head and the older Draco was in the bed again. Draco gave him an inquisitive look. “You should be asleep,” Harry said quietly, shaking his head again.

“As should you,” Draco returned evenly. “I will not have you turn into an insomniac over this. You’ve spent too much of your life not getting proper sleep as it is.”

Harry grinned. “Someone has to watch over you,” Harry told him playfully. “I’d rather it be me.”

Draco suddenly got a very serious expression on his face. It was part-way between a frown and what Harry suspected were unshed tears. Draco looked up at the canopy of his bed, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“No one has ever taken care of me like this,” Draco admitted in a whisper.

“Never?” Harry asked. He was surprised. He thought with all the money the Malfoys had, Draco would have received the best of care.

“No one has ever taken care of me because they loved me,” Draco amended quietly. “The house-elves always tended to me then.” Draco paused, as if he was beginning to remember something. “No,” he said slowly, “That’s not true. Once, when I was…well, I couldn’t have been more than seven or eight, I fell very ill and I was not expected to live.”

Harry listened without interruption. He had never heard this story before. Harry couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like if Draco had died at such a young age. Draco would never have gone to Hogwarts. Harry would never have met him. Hermione would not be alive now. Harry took Draco’s hand in his, kissing the back of it before Draco continued.

“I was very delirious. I don’t recall many of the events that took place. I only remember one night when I was particularly ailing and the Healers declared I would not last the night, my mother stayed by my side throughout the entire night. She was crying and she begged for my life to be spared. She lit so many candles. The room was so bright, almost as if it was daytime. And she prayed to whatever gods there were to keep me safe from death. She…she…” Draco broke off.

“Whatever she did, I’m glad she did it,” Harry said, stroking Draco’s hand with his thumb.

Draco turned his watery eyes to meet Harry’s. “So am I,” he choked. “Harry…”

“Shhh,” Harry breathed. He climbed into the bed next to Draco, pulling him close. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day.”

“Thank goodness,” Draco sighed. Cuddling as close as he could, Draco fell into sleep. It was childish, but being held by Harry made him feel like nothing could ever go wrong.

Harry listened to Draco’s breathing become steady and deep as Draco drifted out of consciousness. Harry settled back, his eyes wide open. He hadn’t told Draco about the encounter with the boy. He didn’t know why but he felt it wasn’t important enough. Draco didn’t need anything else weighing on his mind at the moment. He especially didn’t need Harry’s overactive imagination making him fret. It was like Draco had said: Harry turned everything into a calamity. Sometimes Harry thought that he, himself, was really more trouble than he was worth.

He knew that Draco had wanted him to fall asleep, but he would have been lying if he said he had that night.