
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10065278.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      Multi, M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter, Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter/Other(s)
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Harry_Potter, Blaise_Zabini
  Additional Tags:
      Slash_sex, Self-Harm, Sexual_Content, Spoilers, Threesome, Bonding, Hurt/
      Comfort, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-04-01 Completed: 2011-05-02 Chapters: 5/5 Words: 9961
****** Per Amore e Fiducia ******
by Kab_OETD [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     Harry has just defeated Voldemort, but now he has problems of a
     different nature: a re-sorting, ex-friends, betrayal, and of course,
     Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zambini are in love with him. (Threesome,
     slash, Slytherin!Harry, minor character death, H/D/B, mentions of
     Harry/Cedric, mentions of Dursley abuse)
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** Bello *****
All right, this is a SLASH story and will eventually be Harry/Draco/Blaise.
It's pretty AU, where Harry defeated Voldemort in his fifth year (don't ask me
how...i don't really know). Sirius, Hestia Jones, Mad-Eye Moody, Dumbledore,
Slughorn, Fred, Lavender, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Megan Jones,
Anthony Goldstein, and Li Su all died in the battle (just for background
information…you can bet Harry will feel bad about this later :D)
Also, the Dursleys are slightly more abusive than in the books, and Harry was
in a realtionship with Cedric before his death. (All of this leads Harry t cut
himself occasionally...sorry, that's how it is :[ )
There will be re-sorting, angry Weasleys, jealous Ginny and maybe someone else,
and...well, you'll see :D
************
   This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
   Rowling and whatnot. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
                           infringement is intended.
***********
Harry Potter knew he was in trouble.
He glanced at the calendar on which he usually counted the days left until he
returned to Hogwarts. It was only July first, but he was already dreading
September…
After defeating Voldemort (pure luck, might he add!) He had to go back to
Hogwarts. He had assumed this of course, but now…
Of course, you’re probably thinking, ‘Isn’t that a good thing?’, because
Hogwarts is Harry’s favourite place, is it not? Well it is, but there was one
little problem.
The re-sorting. Headmistress McGonagall had deemed it appropriate that, in
light of the war and whatnot, the coming sixth years should have a chance to be
re-sorted. War changes you after all.
Harry snorted aloud at the thought. It sure does change you, and he knew where
he would be placed as soon as the Sorting Hat touched his head.
Slytherin.
He wasn’t looking forward to his friends’ reactions, but that was that. He knew
were he belonged now. He had changed, just like McGonagall no doubt knew he
would.
Looking out the window over Privet Drive, Harry thought about the last few
weeks. It had shocked everyone that none of the Slytherins had actually been on
Voldemort’s side…at least not in Harry’s year. In fact, some of them – Draco,
Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Theodore – had even fought with the Light
during the Last Battle. However, Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe Sr., and Goyle Sr.,
along with many other Death Eaters had been convicted as Dark, but as a thank-
you to his son’s help, Lucius was kept under wand-arrest at Malfoy Manor.
However, the Slytherin Problem was not Harry’s biggest issue. He had also come
to the realization –in his fourth year, really – he was gay.
It was simple, and acting like he and Cedric hadn’t been together just because
of their rather large age deference was an insult to his memory, Harry thought.
And people had wondered why he was so upset when Cedric died…it wasn’t enough,
of course, that a person had been murdered right in front of Harry’s eyes, but
for it to be his first crush…his first kiss…
Harry jerked his thoughts out off that road. He hadn’t really loved Cedric, but
he had liked him a fair bit, and Harry put a great deal of emphasis on first
kisses.
Harry had no doubt in his mind that he would never find anyone else. Not
because Cedric was his one true love or anything, but because, well, who would
want Harry?
Not the Chosen One. Not the Boy Who Lived. Harry.
He knew the answer to that: no one.
If only he knew what was happening at that very moment…
********************************
In a large Manor miles and miles away, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini both knew
something was missing.
“Draco…” Blaise murmured from the blonde’s neck, not even able to bask in the
afterglow as usual, because something was just wrong.
“I know,” agreed Draco, pulling back slightly to look into the nearly black
eyes. “I know…what should we do? Do you even think he’s–”
“I’ve never even seen him look at a girl that way, but Diggory on the other
hand…” Blaise’s voice trailed off at the end. Few people suspected Cedric’s and
Harry’s relationship, but the two Slytherins – who watched Harry so carefully –
did.
Draco nodded, considering. “I think we should write him a letter – ask if he’d
be interested in seeing us. I just can’t wait until we all get back. Agreed?”
“All right, but we have to be careful what we say…” replied Blaise, starting to
sit up.
“Hey!” cried Draco, yanking him back down. “Who said you were allowed to get
up?” He grinned as he began kissing Blaise’s neck, running his hands over his
stomach, and the Italian boy squirmed.
“Okay, okay, I get it!” he gasped, trying to get away. “You know I’m ticklish,
damn it!”
Draco grinned again, relenting in his assault and laying his head on Blaise’s
chest, thinking again how he wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for the boy under
him….
After the ferret incident in fourth year, Blaise took it upon himself to help
Draco become…well, nicer. Or at least not so obviously mean.
Eventually, Draco realized that Blaise was right, and somehow, one night in the
astronomy tower – studying, of course – Blaise kissed him. Being brought up by
a loving mother and – in Blaise’s case – loving fathers, they were both quick
to discover that they were meant for each other, but something was missing.
They did some research on wizarding couples and learned of Triads; and, a few
months later, they knew who would complete them.
It wasn’t completely unheard of for wizards or witches to form Triads, and it
certainly wasn’t at all unusual to be gay – at least in the wizarding world.
When a witch or wizard knows their true mate, the call to be with them is
almost overpowering. In the accounts of most Triads, two would find each other
and then have to search out the other and woo them as well. That was what
Blaise and Draco were trying to do.
 
“Here!” Blaise finally said, thrusting the parchment across the desk at Draco
and slamming his head down on the table in exhaustion. Draco chuckled, looking
down at the hopefully finished letter.
Dear Harry,
I suspect you won’t appreciate congratulations on the defeat of Voldemort –
Merlin knows you probably receive a hundred a day – so I’ll get right to the
point.
We – that is to say, Draco Malfoy and myself – would like to ask you if you
would consider dating us. I’m not sure if you know, but it is not so uncommon
for three wizards to be together, and we’ve liked you since fourth year,
really. I’m sure you think this is a joke, but we are quite sincere in our
wishes, and we think that if anyone deserves happiness, that person is you.
If wasn’t fair, you being forced to save the wizarding world at only fifteen,
loosing so many people in the process… We would like to show you care and
affection you deserve – for giving so much for everyone, and for just being
you. You deserve to have someone to take care of you, for once, and we would
like to do that.
We want to earn your complete trust, so please find at the bottom of this
letter both mine and Draco’s magical signature verifying our truth in this
matter. A simple spell will prove their truthfulness
We deeply hope you will accept out offer, Harry, bello. Please think about it.
Amorem,
Blaise Zabini.
Draco grinned at the simple words of affection Blaise had slipped in, calling
Harry love and beautiful without the raven ever knowing.
“It’s perfect,” Draco said, kissing the back of Blaise’s neck. Blaise simply
groaned and Draco smiled again. He truly had a way with words, but Blaise
became very stressed when actually composing a letter, especially to someone so
important.
Draco looked at Blaise for a moment, but he still hadn’t moved. Shrugging, the
blonde simply picked up the dark-haired boy and carried him to the bed. They
may have been only inches apart in height, but Draco wasn’t soft by any means.
“Draco – what–? No, let me sleep…” he groaned, exhausted more from the prior
activities’ in that bed than by the letter to Harry. The other just smiled and
laid him on the bed on his stomach, then began to gently rub his back. Blaise
sighed in appreciation and murmured. “Nevermind…I’ll stay here…”
********************************
Harry had just swallowed his meal for the day – another can of cold soup, this
time tomato – and was feeling very thankful that Hedwig was at the Weasley’s,
as he didn’t have to share. He had only been there for a month and already
could see his ribs easily…
Letting out a very undignified whimper of hunger, Harry started back for his
bed when he noticed an owl at the window. It was a barn owl, and perched
precariously on the bars the covered the glass.
Wondering who on earth would write to him besides Ron and Hermione, Harry
opened the door, thanking Merlin that there was no lock this summer.
The bird flew in and dropped a letter on Harry’s bed, then flew into Hedwig’s
cage and began to drink from the water dish. Harry stared at the bird’s
boldness for a second, then, shrugging, he picked up the letter.
It was addressed with simply his name, and he glanced down at the name at the
bottom as he unfolded it.
Why would Blaise be writing to me? He wondered as he sat down and began to
read.
 
Five minutes later, after reading the letter about six times, Harry was
convinced he was asleep. Or perhaps hallucinating; an outcome of his hunger?
The signatures were indeed real, and he knew that Draco had not been at all
hostile towards him since after the Ferret Incident, but they hadn’t been best
mates either. More importantly, why would anyone want to date Harry?
He fingered the gilded edge of the parchment, thinking…
On the other hand…who cared about their motives? They obviously liked him for
him, the signature said that much…perhaps there was something that they saw
that Harry didn’t?
Harry almost laughed at the thought. No, surely they would get tired of him
eventually, and that would hurt, yes, but could he resist someone caring for
him? They had said they would take care of him…that would definitely be nice…
No, Harry decided, he couldn’t resist. Smiling as the barn owl flew over to him
shoulder and nuzzled gently, Harry grabbed some parchment and a quill.
**************************************************
This chapter is dedicated to Christina-Tears :) Please review!
***** Tesoro *****
Hey guys! Thank you all SO much for all the reviews...i have never gotten that
many, but hey, they say slash sells. Guess they're right.
Anywho, There's a bit of the Dursleys abusing Harry here, and it will get
worse, i promise. Remember that this is AN M STORY.
Thanks :D
__________________________________________________
The next morning, Draco woke to a tapping on the window. He tried to ignore it
at first, but it just got louder and louder until he groaned aloud, wondering
where Blaise was. He was the morning person, not Draco. He needed to get the
bloody window.
Trying to think of who could possibly be writing to them, the blond sat up,
blinking blearily at the window. There was Rasputin all right, and the barn owl
did not look happy at not being let immediately.
Damn spoiled owl… Draco thought, rubbing his eyes grumpily.
Suddenly, Draco remembered. He jumped off the bed, nearly running to the window
and yanking it open. Rasputin flew in, dropped the letter on the bed, and flew
back out.
With trembling fingers, Draco opened the envelope.
Dear Malfoy and Zabini,
Against all my instincts, I do believe you. I can’t pass up the chance for
someone to care for me, no matter how…hesitant I may be. Since the end of
school, I haven’t spoken to anyone from the wizarding world – until now.
They’ve gotten what they want from me, I suppose, but I thought that at least
Ron and Hermione wouldn’t desert me…Anyway, it would be nice to not be stuck in
here alone until September, or to at least have someone to talk to.
How would this work? I can’t leave the Dursley’s except by foot, so I don’t
know how I could meet you anywhere…
I Look forward to seeing you both soon,
Harry
Draco smiled as he stroked his fingers over Harry’s signature, aware of how
sappy he probably looked. He re-read the letter, and his smile turned to a
frown as he saw the third sentence. How could Harry’s friends just abandon him
like that? He had saved all their miserable lives, and this is how they repaid
him?
Blaise entered the bedroom to find Draco sitting on the black silk bed, a note
in his hand. At first, excitement took over – Harry wrote back! Blaise thought,
grinning – but then he saw Draco’s frown.
“What is it?” Blaise asked immediately. “What did he say?”
Seeing the worry on Blaise’s face, Draco quickly said, “No, don’t worry, he
said yes. Read it.”
Blaise took the letter and read through it quickly, his frown
deepening every second. Glancing up at Draco, he said, “How could they just
stop talking to him after all that time?” He, like Draco, couldn’t imagine a
friend doing that.
Draco nodded, laying back on the bed. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine how you
could throw out six years of friendship like that…”
But boys thought for a minute, but then realized that – from Weasley at least –
this could be expected. He had always left Harry for one reason or another,
always coming back and ‘forgiving’ him. Granger, however…they thought she was
different than that. To Draco and Blaise, it was inconceivable to break a
friendship on grounds other than betrayal. They had been friends with Vinnie,
Greg, Pansy, Millie, and Theo since they we small – a pureblood necessity for
the most part, but they did like each other, unlike some of the other
Slytherins – and they were all quite close.
After a few minutes, Blaise said, “What should we do with Harry for our first
date? It’ll have to be near where his relatives live…where is that anyway?”
Draco sat up, his brow furrowed. “Er…I don’t know.” There wasn’t much that
Draco would admit to not knowing. “We’ll have to write and ask him. I’m sure
some of father’s old…associates can help us find what we need in whatever area
Harry is.”
************************
Harry,
First of all, thank you very much for accepting us, tesoro. We understand that
it took a lot of courage to trust when you’ve been hurt so much, and we promise
not to disappoint you.
We have an idea of what we can do for our first date, but we need to know where
you live so we can adjust our plans to that area.
We hope to see you soon,
Draco and Blaise
Harry smiled in spite of the fiery pain on the side of his face. Date. Promise.
Tesoro? He wasn’t sure what the last meant, but it sounded nice.
He scribbled down the information, adding that they would have to be sure to
come when the Dursleys were out, and then watch Rasputin fly away with it.
As the owl disappeared in the distance, Harry turned back to face the room. He
caught sight of his reflection in the cracked mirror and grimaced. The cut and
large bruise could be hidden easily with Glamours like the scars on his arms
already were (the Ministry was pointedly ignoring any magic Harry did now, as
long as it wasn’t in front of Muggles. Harry thought it was the very least they
could do for him). However, the thinness of his face and the bags under his
eyes would be harder…
He was thankful, for the first time, that he had allowed Severus to fix his
eyesight last year; at least he wouldn’t have to wear glasses.
Digging out his nicest pants and shirt, Harry cast a spell to clean them –
learned from Hermione of course – and hung them in the wardrobe. He carefully
lay down on his stomach, wincing from the still-sore welts on his buttocks and
thighs – Harry had dropped a slice of toast that morning – and wished that his
friends would write so that he could at least ask for some food. He wouldn’t
request that of Draco and Blaise, of course; it would no doubt only make them
tire of him sooner.
********************************
“Here’s one in Little Whinging; it’s called Il Calice Dorato.” Draco said,
scanning the letter that his father’s old friend had sent back.
“That means ‘the gilded cup’,” translated Blaise. “It’s Italian.”
“It is.” Agreed Draco, a smirk on his pale face, “And it’s also the best… at
least in the UK. Merlin knows why they put it in Little Whinging of all
places.”
Blaise frowned slightly. “Yes…it does seem like a poor location choice, doesn’t
it?”
The room was silent for a minute, then Blaise suddenly grinned widely.
“The best, you said?” he asked the blond. Draco nodded, and
Blaise laughed loudly, laying back on the bed and laughing until his sides
hurt.
“What?” demanded Draco, annoyed.
Wiping away tears of laughter, Blaise answered. “The best. Of course it is. I
should have known that you wouldn’t take Harry to any place normal.”
Draco glared at the other boy.
“Come on, Draco!” Blaise grinned, shoving him playfully. “For our first date,
you took me to a ‘nice’ place, and the soup was forty dollars by itself! I can
hardly imagine what The Best could possibly be.”
Draco was still glaring, and Blaise started to laugh again.
“Who knows how well he gets to eat? I wouldn’t be surprised if those Muggles
have been starving him!” he grumbled, crossing his arms in a pouting gesture.
Blaise rolled his eyes. “Draco, I’m sure they’re not starving him. Not all
Muggles are evil; besides, Harry would have told
someone.”
Draco hoped the other boy was right. He really did.
He was still a little upset at Blaise’s teasing of his expensive tastes, but
now, looking down at Blaise…he couldn’t be upset anymore. Blaise’s short, curly
dark hair was still wet from his shower, and his dark blue shirt was
unbuttoned, showing his lightly muscled chest…
Draco licked his lips and, smirking again, lay down over Blaise and pressed his
lips to the Italian’s. Blaise gasped in surprise – Draco’s mood swings will
kill me one day – and a thin tongue slipped between his lips. By the time the
blond pulled away, Blaise was understandably breathless.
Draco grinned at him. “Would you want to give Harry anything less than the
best?” he asking, quirking an eyebrow.
At that, Blaise no longer had an argument.
***** Diletto *****
Hey you guys!
Thanks so much for all the reviews; you all rock. There's some Harry/Cedric
from the past here, and mentions of Harry cutting. Don't worry, all the angst
will be worth it when Draco and Blaise find out :D
The next chapter will probably be very long and will take a long time. There
will be alot of fluff, sadness, amazing food, Dursley abuse and cuddling (yay),
so review and it'll be alooot faster :D
***************************
“Harry?” Cedric murmured. “Are you alright?”
Harry glanced up from the window he had been staring out of to see Cedric
standing just under the small archway that led into the North Tower. It was a
Hogsmede weekend, and two weeks after the First Task. Harry had been able to
get away from Ron and Hermione under the guise of school work and figuring out
the egg clue, but his boyfriend…well he was a little more difficult.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Cedric. He did; very much actually. But he
had heard a saying once, “If you burden your friends, soon you won’t have any”.
He didn’t burden Ron and Hermione, and he certainly wouldn’t do so to Cedric.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Harry flat out lied, hating himself. He clutched his sore
arms closer, glad for the long sleeves he was wearing, and that the shirt was
dark coloured. it would hide the blood better. “Just needed some time…away.”
Cedric nodded. “I know what you mean.” He grimaced, and Harry almost smiled. He
knew that the older boy was referring to how he now had many, many girls – and
a few boys – chasing after him after his almost-victory in the First Task.
Cedric didn’t hate the attention, but he didn’t love it either.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked uncertainly, and Harry nodded, looking out the window
again. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the older boy wrapped an arm
around his too-thin shoulders and pulled him close. Instinctively, Harry tried
to pull away.
“Please don’t,” whispered Cedric, voice full of emotion but still slightly
awkward. It was the voice of someone who cared enough to comfort another, but
wasn’t sure how to go about it. Harry felt himself blush. Someone cared.
“Cedric, I – I can’t…it’s too –” Harry’s voice broke, and Cedric tightened his
arm.
“You don’t have to tell me, Harry. Just know that I’m here for you.”
 
************************
 
Diletto,
We both truly cannot wait to see you, so could we possibly come get you
tomorrow, say around seven? (Draco would kill me for telling you this, but he’s
been pacing the room almost non-stop since your last letter. He’s anxious to
see you again and make up for all the times you two fought in the past. )
If you agree with the time, then we’ll come to get you from your relatives’
house. Don’t worry; we’ll take care of them. We’re going to some place that
Draco calls ‘The Best’, which, in my experience, means ‘The Most Expensive’ so
it would be wise to wear something nice, though I’m sure you’ll look beautiful
in anything.
Should you want to change the time or day, just tell us. Our schedule is
completely open for you, Harry.
Amora,
Blaise
Harry, not for the first time after reading a letter from his two courters,
grinned as he read, blushing at several parts. Draco wanted to see him? Blaise
thought he was beautiful? And all those little endearments…Harry had no idea
what they meant, but he could tell they were nice things.
His cheeks sore for the use of such under-used muscles, the black-haired boy
ran his finger over Blaise’s signature. He thought back to the few times he had
seen Blaise at Hogwarts, and the many times he had seen Draco. Both had the
same aristocratic nose – no doubt they shared at least one cousin or something
– but Blaise had dark brown eyes and hair to match. Harry remembered admiring
the fact that – though the Italian's hair was unbelievably curly – he managed
to keep it neat, unlike Harry’s wild hair.
Draco, of course, had white-blonde hair that – until their previous year – had
been slicked back, but now hung loose over his pale (and flawless, of course)
face, and his silver eyes reminded Harry of mercury.
The question was, what was wrong with them?
Harry lay back on his tiny bed and rubbed his eyes roughly. Now that was the
question, wasn’t it? Two good-looking, well-to-do, and kind boys wanted to date
him. Harry had marvelled at this since the first letter, but then he sat up.
“I said I wouldn’t worry about this,” he spoke aloud to himself, startling
Rasputin, who was perched on the edge of his bed.
“I’m just going to believe them. I will trust them.” He told himself
forcefully.
After a moment, Harry smiled again, then went to his tiny desk to write his
reply.
******************************
Dear Blaise & Draco,
Tomorrow at seven sounds perfect. I’m very excited to see both of you as well,
and Draco, I am completely willing to forget our past feuds if you are. We were
children, and it doesn’t really matter now. You two are the only one I have
been able to speak to at all since Tom’s death, and that certainly makes up for
the past.
Just to warn you, my uncle hates ‘Our kind’, as he calls it, and will no doubt
insult and threaten you two. I’ll apologize on his behalf right now.
Harry.
“You told him?” Draco cried as soon as he read the first sentence.
Blaise rolled his eyes. “Of course I did.”
“Why?” Draco demanded, looking pouty again. He didn't want Harry to know the he
knew how stupid he had been, as pointless as it might sound.
“Because he needed to know!” answered Blaise, slightly angrily. “It will make
him feel better to know that someone regrets having hurt him.”
Draco sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
“I suppose you’re right…as usual…” he conceded, and it was almost worth the
admission when Blaise pulled him close and kissed him deeply.
But both of them pulled back at once, frowning.
“Harry’s sixteenth birthday is coming up.” Blaise murmured, both to himself and
Draco. “That’s why there aren’t as many sparks. We need our third.”
Draco nodded immediately. “I agree. All the older wizard mating books say that
if the third of the bond is known, but hasn’t been claimed, all the members of
the bond will feel the affects more and more leading up to his or her sixteenth
birthday.”
Blaise moaned, falling back onto the bed in frustration.
“I suppose it’s too soon to beg Harry to move in?” he questioned, eyebrow
raised.
Draco laughed. “Perhaps…but if he said yes…” the blonde’s voice trailed off.
“He’d probably want to stay with his relatives, though.” Said the Italian
sadly.
But maybe, just maybe…
“We’ll see how tomorrow goes.” decided Draco.
***** La Douleur yet Pulchra *****
Oh my goodness, you guys! I have never gotten this many reviews on any one
story...thank you so much!
Just so you know, this chapter is dark. It had violence, severe child abuse,
and blood and such.
Seriously,_it's_DARK.
You have been warned.
**********************
Harry Potter was a self-proclaimed idiot.
Thinking over it in his mind, he realized that the appropriate retaliation for
being asked to clean Dudley’s room was not to yell obscenities at his Uncle.
No, that had been a very bad idea. But how was he supposed to know that the
walrus had a bull-whip? Come to think, where in the hell had Uncle Vernon found
a bull-whip?
Harry had always known that his Uncle hated him. That he had anger management
problems, and that he was pretty much a sadist. But this?
He remembered every single one of the three dozen strikes. On the first, he was
in shock. Uncle Vernon had never really been this bad, not nearly this bad, so
why now? By the third, he couldn’t breath. He could feel the stinging, the
blood that was soaking to the floor of the basement, were his Uncle had dragged
him – muttering about not staining the carpet. If only he knew what he meant
before, maybe he would have had a chance to run... At number six, he was
praying for the strength not to scream. It would be considered weakness to
scream, and Harry hated weakness, because weakness was what made his aunt and
uncle hate him, and made him try and force his dull problems on others.
However, at this moment he hated his Uncle even more. Nine, he was just
praying. Would someone get him out of here? Did anyone even care any more? He
started blacking in and out around twelve, the blood loss starting to get to
him, but it was at eleven when he saw their faces.
Blaise and Draco.
They were the only people who Harry thought might care and so, for the rest of
the slashes – the searing pain, the dribbling of blood, the feeling that his
back was being torn apart – he imagined the thing he wanted most.
To be held.
Just to sit with someone – anyone, really – and be held. He had wanted it in
the cupboard when his uncle had used the belt on him the first, at four. He had
wanted it when Aunt Petunia screamed that she wasn’t his Mummy, and that no one
would want him near them, let alone to be his parent. He had wanted it when his
Hogwarts letter came, and when he was in the Chamber of Secrets, and in the
Graveyard, and when he’d lost Cedric…
And now Harry was hanging by his wrists in the basement. The basement. How
clichéd was that?
He was taken down here around four or so… Harry estimated it was around five
now.
Only two hours left, he encouraged himself weakly, fighting the pain that we
still very much there. Surely Blaise and Draco will look for me…I hope.
***********************
“Is this it?” demanded Draco impatiently, nearly running to catch up with
Blaise.
The Italian laughed, reaching back to ruffle Draco’s hair playfully. The blonde
scowled at him.
“Calm down, Draco. We’ll be there soon.” Blaise soothed, searching the dark
street. Number ten, Number nine, number eight…
“There it is!” Draco suddenly cried, pointing at a house identical to the
others around it.
Both of them couldn’t help smiling as the noticed the place where Harry lived.
Nice lawn, good paint job…but why did one of the windows have bars?
The boys exchanged a glance, then shrugged. It was probably nothing…but as they
neared the home…
Both Draco and Blaise gasped simultaneously, doubling over as if they had been
punched.
“What – what was that?” breathed Draco, looking around. Several nearby
neighbours were looking at the boys curiously.
“I…I don’t know…” said Blaise, glancing up and down the block warily. “An
attack?” But it hadn’t felt like an attack at all…
Both of them had to be on their guard; not just for themselves and Harry – just
a few yards away! – but for the surrounding Muggles too. They couldn’t afford
to meet any stray Death Eaters here…
Draco shook his head. “Doesn’t fell like it…it reminds me of that time…” but
the blonde’s voice trailed off at the memory, and he and Blaise looked at each
other in horror.
Harry.
It took them less than ten seconds until they were on the front step of Number
Four, and both raised a fist and banged unceremoniously on the door.
No one answered.
“Maybe they’re not home…maybe Harry’s not here.”
Suggested Draco half-heartedly, wanting to believe it. “He could be in trouble
somewhere else…”
Blaise shook his head. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “No, we can feel
him. He’s here.” And with that the Italian – shaking slightly from anger and
feelings that belonged not to him, but to their Third – pulled out his wand and
blew the door open.
Draco raised a brow as the red door fell down with a crash.
“Alohomora not fancy enough for you?”
*************************
There was a loud BANG from overhead, and Harry flinched, coming back into
consciousness and wincing painfully. He had never hurt so bad; not Crucio, not
Polyjuice potion, not even Basilisk venom. It was different. It was worse.
He knew it was either Blaise and Draco, coming to look for him, or his uncle.
Both options made him want to cry, but he was too dehydrated to do so.
His voice had gone long ago, and Harry decided to save the rest of his energy.
If they weren’t able to find him…well, he didn’t want to think of that.
***************************
“Where could he be?” Blaise wondered as they entered the normal-looking house.
Draco ran up the staircase, and Blaise heard him call Harry’s name. No answer.
Seconds later, the blond walked worriedly back down the stairs, shaking his
head at Blaise’s questioning look, and glancing into the kitchen while the
Italian checked the living room.
Suddenly, both boys felt a stab of pain in their stomachs again, only worse
this time.
“Harry’s really hurt.” Draco moaned when it had subsided. “What are we going to
do? Where could he be hidden in a tiny house like this?”
Blaise nearly smiled at the almost-insult. He had to give Draco credit; he
hadn’t insulted Muggles once since they’d left the Manor, such was his worry
for Harry. It was endearing.
“Perhaps an attic, or a basement?” Blaise suggested, rubbing his face with
shaking hands. “I saw a door in the kitchen…it could lead to one.”
Draco nodded, shivering slightly, and Blaise noticed that his characteristic
Malfoy Mask was down. The dark-haired boy could see mostly fear for their
Third, whom they hadn’t even gotten to know yet, and anger on his behalf at
whatever the Muggles may have done to him. Draco was beautiful like this, and
Blaise’s heart clinched at his own thought: I hope Harry gets to see him like
this…
They crept through the eerily clean kitchen, and Blaise cautiously opened the
door.
“Don’t,” he said, catching Draco’s hand as he reached for the light switch. “If
he’s really…hurt, you could throw him into shock.”
Not able to speak, Draco nodded.
“Harry?” he called softly into the darkness as he and Blaise started down the
steps. “Are you down here?”
***************************
The next time Harry woke, he caught snippets of someone whispering: “Don’t –
you could – shock.” And then another voice…saying his name.
Harry nearly sobbed. They were *there. They cared enough to try and save him.
Or did they? What if…
But Harry shook his head firmly, making himself dizzy. He could worry about
that later…he had to get enough strength
to answer…just one word would do…
***************************
“Harry?” Blaise called softly as they felt their way to the bottom. It was
really creepy, and pitch black. Almost unconsciously, he reached for Draco’s
hand, but stopped after a second. Harry didn’t have anyone to hold his hand
down here, and he was hurt, probably bad. Blaise shouldn’t have that comfort
until Harry did.
“Harry?” Draco whispered, feeling along the walls. “Are you down here?”
“Wait, Draco –” Blaise held out a hand to the other’s nearly invisible chest.
“I heard something…listen…”
It was quiet for a moment, then they both could hear shallow breathing.
Blaise felt his legs sag in relief, but he forced himself up, and they both
moved in the direction of the breaths.
“Harry?” whisper Draco. “Are you –”
And from the darkness in front of them came an almost silent,
“Help…”
Blaise didn’t remember drawing his wand, or casting the soft Lumos. Draco
didn’t remember the pained gasp that he and Blaise seemed to breathe at once,
but he did remember one thing. He would remember it forever.
Harry was hanging limply by badly bleeding wrists, his back a mass of bleeding
stripes, and his head was lolled forward in an unnatural position. He
looked…bad. His skin was the colour of parchment, his lips were bleeding, and
he was thinner than could possibly be healthy.
“Draco…hold him…I’ll – cut the ropes…” Blaise whispered brokenly, and Draco
moved mechanically forward, bracing his hands carefully under Harry’s arms. He
noticed that the raven was terribly skinny – his ribs were clearly visible and,
when Blaise severed the roped binding Harry’s hands and the boy slumped forward
onto Draco – he must have weighed around ninety pounds.
As the Italian carefully untied the ropes, Draco realized that Harry’s
shoulders were also hurt; being tied to the ceiling and only about five foot
five, his toes had barely scraped the floor…
A moan brought both boys’ instant attention to him, and Harry opened an eye
slowly.
*******************
They had come for him. They were really, really, there.
Because they cared.
Harry realized it in that moment, looking into their terrified faces. The
sentiments were true, the promise was true; they did want to care for him, care
about him…
Love him.
He had to make them feel better. Their faces showed nearly as much pain as his,
but for a much worse reason.
“’Mokay,” he murmured gently, smiling and causing his lips to crack and start
bleeding. Draco and Blaise’s presence seemed to make him feel stronger, and he
continued just over a whisper, “Jus’ stinez a bit.” He promised, trying to keep
his eyes open as Draco’s pale face swum in and out of focus.
“Harry...” Draco nearly cooed, not trying to hold back the tears, brushing away
the drop of blood from his lip.
Blaise smiled softly, but he pointed his wand at Harry and said,
“Somno...Pulchra.”
***********************
“What did you do?” Draco demanded as Harry’s eyes dropped and he went limp
again.
“It’ll be easier if he sleeps,” informed Blaise. “He won’t hurt anymore, and by
the time he wakes up, he’ll be healing.”
Draco grimaced – he had wanted to hear Harry talk, to make certain that he was
really alive – but he knew it was better for Harry this way. He cast a stasis
charm on Harry’s back to stop the stripes from bleeding so much, but he knew he
couldn’t do much else with only a wand...
“How are we going to get him back, though?” wondered
Blaise. “We can’t Apparate...or Floo...”
“We’ll use a Portkey.” Informed the blonde, brushing hair out of the raven’s
face gently. “Any other way is too slow or would hurt him.”
The Italian frowned. “But unauthourized portkeys are illegal.”
Draco raised a blood-stained eyebrow. “Does it matter?”
One look at Harry, and Blaise said, “No. It doesn’t.”
***** Ama *****
Sorry this took so long, but thank you all so much for the reviews! Keep in
mind that this is a FICTION STORY and all the details may not be correct. No
one will die if I got something a bit wrong, I'm sure.
Enjoy!
__________________________________________________
Everything was a blur – Blaise went upstairs to fetch Harry’s trunk, then Draco
shrunk it while Blaise cursed all the Dursley’s silverware to attack them the
moment they came home, and finally Draco said, “Portus” to a teacup.
Suddenly they were at Malfoy Manor again. Narcissa Malfoy, Aurora Sinistra, and
Petra Sen came running out seconds later, all talking over each other.
Petra was Indian, with a beautiful dark-skinned face, and breathtaking golden-
brown eyes. She had been Severus’s nanny when he was young, and as a matter of
fact, when Eileen Snape left Tobias, Severus was just thirteen, so Petra
quietly got legal custody of him. They had lived together up until his death
the previous year. Aurora, of course, was the Astronomy teacher at Hogwarts,
and a good friend of Narcissa’s, especially now that Lucius was sulking in a
corner of the mansion frequently and therefore not around to interfere with
happiness and such.
“I thought you were going out–” Aurora started.
“Who is–” gasped Petra over her, clutching a stitch in her side.
“– With Harry,” continued Aurora.
“– that?” Petra finished, wide eyed, staring at battered boy.
“What happened–” started Narcissa.
"Is that him?” gasped Aurora, staring wide-eyed at her former student.
“–to him?” Narcissa gasped over the other two, looking at the raven haired boy
as well.
Harry was cradled in Malfoy's arms as if he was a fragile as a piece of
porcelain glass, to precious to lose, and for these to men – the men that had
found him bleeding and inches from death – he was. The raven's hair was
tussled, his torso just as bare as it was when they found it, and his eyelids
shut. Draco sincerely hoped that being unconscious would help Harry not feel as
bad as he must have before they found him. The blonde shot a frantic look at
Blaise, wondering what to do next.
Thank Merlin the spell had worked, as it was only a Muggle weapon – wizard
implements were usually cursed against Stasis spells. The boy wasn’t bleeding,
but he was out cold and his back and wrists looked horrible. This caused more
worry to Draco than he would like to admit.
“Not sure,” said the worried blonde. “His Uncle did it, we think.”
Aurora stared at her former student’s back in horror; Petra looked quite sick.
Narcissa simply looked murderous. Harry had, after all, saved all three of them
from Azkaban. He deserved much better than abuse from some Muggles.
“We need Potions.” Blaise ordered, always the level-headed one. Now, however,
it was obvious to even Aurora that he was hiding behind the Pure-Blood Mask;
his hands were shaking.
“Now.” He added when none of the women moved.
“I’ll get them!” cried Petra, running back towards the house, happy to get away
from the boys’ pain.
“Here, I’ll–” offered Narcissa, stepping toward Draco with her arms out, but
the blond jerked backwards, shaking his head.
“No.” he said simply, his heart thudding in his chest. Something deep inside of
him wasn't ever going to let Harry go again. He glanced down at the small body
in his arms, his eyes fiercely protective. He would protect him, even if it was
from his own nightmares, his own mind.
Draco knew some of what it was like for mentally and physically abused kids –
being the Slytherin he was, it was easy to overhear conversations that were
never meant for his ears. So he knew that it was going to be very hard to help
Harry from this point on, but first, they had to get him stable, had to get him
well...at least in the physical sense.
The others followed – very confusedly on Narcissa and Aurora’s part – after
Draco as he nearly ran towards the Manor, still holding Harry securely.
“Here,” said Petra, appearing from a side door that led to the potion’s lab as
they crossed through the elegant entrance hall. Blaise started to reach for the
vial she held, but Draco shook his head. Petra had, after all, been employed
for years at St. Mungo’s. She was one of the few people the two Slytherins
would trust with Harry, and she knew it.
The Indian woman expertly tilted the raven’s head back and massaged his throat
to help him swallow. Immediately, there was a soft gold glow surrounding Harry,
and the five gathered around him watched as the wounds in his back started to
knit back together.
“He’ll have a few scars,” whispered Petra sadly, not moving; the looks on
Blaise and Draco’s faces could have killed this ‘Mr. Dursley’ on the spot.
“Some of those wounds were very deep, but they should heal very quickly. He
does look malnourished though…And he’ll be sore for awhile.”
Both the boys nodded, and the women knew they were lucky to get that much out
of them.
“I’ll have Qwerty bring up a light meal for Harry when he gets up…” said
Narcissa weakly, thinking about one of their loyal house elves. Again, the two
nodded as the others disappeared, Harry still fast asleep.
Though Aurora, Narcissa, and Petra were rather close to Blaise and Draco, none
of them had ever seen such emotion written on the boy’s faces – especially
Draco. For a moment, they simply stood, watching the retreating dark and light
heads. When the boys had ascended the staircase, Aurora exhaled loudly.
“I could use a drink; what about you two?”
**************************************************************************
Upstairs, Draco was shaking, Blaise was pacing, and Harry…
Harry was fast asleep, all of his injuries healed – minus the malnutrition,
which would, obviously, take much more time. Only five scars remained on his
back from the beating.
Blaise couldn't fathom why this happened. Wouldn't someone, anyone, know what
was happening to the ‘Golden Boy’?
He’s a Gryffindor for Merlin’s sake! The dark haired boy thought, You’d think
they protected their own! Us Slytherins do at least...
Draco watched the sleeping brunette with growing impatience. He wouldn't-
couldn't believe that the slumbering boy was alright until he opened his eyes
and said the words himself, even if they were only half-truths.
After a moment, Draco groaned aloud in frustration.
“Is he ever going to wake up?” He moaned, pulling at his blond hair.
Blaise chuckled nervously. “He needs his sleep, Dray. But he’ll be fine, I
mean…look at him!” The Italian waved his hand at Draco, who nodded slowly.
“He does look better. Much better. So skinny though…” A pale hand ran over the
black-haired boy’s prominent ribs, and Draco whispered quietly, “Adsum, ama.
Non nocere iterum...” The pale hand then started stroking through the black
hair, and Harry smiled in his sleep. Draco seemed to glow at that; just knowing
he could comfort the boy, even a little...
Blaise gasped, and Draco’s thoughts were sadly interrupted.
“Aha!” He cried, pointing an accusing finger at the blond. “Emotions! You care
about Harry!”
Draco jumped back from the bed like his hand was on fire. The mask was back,
and Blaise nearly wished he hadn’t said anything. His Mate was so beautiful
without the mask…
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said firmly, glaring at his
boyfriend. Draco hadn’t given a damn about Malfoy protocol and his Mask while
Harry was hurt, but now that he was asleep and healed…and not looking at him
with those beautiful eyes…
Blaise coughed loudly, and Draco flushed in embarrassment when he realized he
had been staring – rather adoringly – at Harry. He hadn’t had a chance, really;
once a witch or wizard accepted their bond with who-ever-it-may-be, it was hard
to hide their love for them. Draco, however, wasn’t used to feeling for anyone
other than Blaise, and both boys were good at hiding their emotions in public,
which was why only their parents and closest friends knew of their
relationship. He did care for his mother and mother-figures – Aurora and Petra
– and their friends, but not in that way obviously.
But Harry was different. Neither Blaise nor Draco had been abused (or at least
not that badly – Lucius wasn’t exactly a cuddly type of dad, and Blaise had
nearly been molested at a young age) so they weren’t as openly protective with
each other. It was the natural instinct of a Mate to become possessive of their
Mate if something had hurt them badly.
“Alright!” Malfoy finally exploded after Blaise cleared his throat for the
third time. “I care about him, okay! It’s only natural.”
Blaise shook his head tauntingly, the black curls bouncing around jovially as
he did so. “No, Dray…I think it’s more than that. You loooooove Harry!”
The blonde flushed again, shoving Blaise angrily as he said, “No. I. Don’t!”
but the darker-skinned boy simply laughed and rolled his eyes.
“Sure you don’t, Draco.” He said in a would-be casual voice, looking pointedly
at Harry, who was yawning in his sleep.
Draco’s heart melted at the sight, and he knew Blaise could see it in his face.
Damn Potter for being so cute. Damn Blaise for knowing everything. Damn Dursley
for hurting what was theirs. And damn his traitor heart from beating so fast!
Draco suddenly had the urge to beat his head against the wall.
“Fine.” He finally admitted. “So I l-love Har – Potter. You do too!”
Oh, so we’re back to Potter now… Blaise thought with a chuckle. He’s cute when
he’s defensive…Oh bloody hell, he’s cute all the time.
“Of course I do.” He answered aloud. “I’m not afraid of my feelings.”
“I was raised to be afraid of them, it’s not my fault.” Draco mumbled, sitting
on the edge of the bed and looking pouty.
“I know,” Blaise said, wrapping an arm around the blonde’s shoulders and
kissing his hair. Draco didn’t even pull away; a good sign. “But Harry will
need you to show how you feel. Calling him ‘Potter’, acting like you don’t
care, and never touching him will hurt him. We need his trust, and we need it
by the end of the month or…”
His voice trailed off, neither wanting to think of the ‘or’, and Draco knew he
would have to do it, painful as it may be.
“I’ll do my best.” He promised, and Blaise knew he meant it.
***************************************************************************
After the welcoming blackness, Harry never expected to feel anything again.
When he did, however, it wasn’t actually bad.
Nothing hurt, not really. There was a little soreness, but nothing too bad. He
seemed to be in a large, warm, and very comfortable bed, and best of all, there
was a soothing weight near him on the bed.
What happened? Wondered Harry, trying to keep his eyes closed and breathing
even until he remembered.
Flashes of red, crying, screaming, bleeding….
“Please Uncle Vernon! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” Harry sobbed, not even
ashamed of his very un-Gryffindor begging. He couldn’t even remember now what
he had done, but it must have been something bad. Even if it wasn’t, Harry knew
he deserved it. He had gotten countless people killed – Sirius, Cederic, his
own parents…
“You’re damn right you won’t, freak!” spat his uncle, panting heavily from the
force of beating the child.
Another strike. Then another. Harry screamed, his arms and legs jerking
spasmodically in an unconscious effort to stop the pain.
“Please! No more! Please!”
“Harry?”
A quiet voice brought him out of the flashback, and Harry automatically opened
his eyes. Above him was none other than Blaise Zabini; dark curly hair, dark
eyes, his face showing concern….
For him? For…Harry?
“Are you alright? Does it hurt? Where?” Blaise asked immediately, scanning the
blankets over Harry as if trying to see through them. At that moment, the raven
felt a dampness on his cheeks and realized he had been crying.
Embarrassed, Harry tried to reply, but his throat was so dry he couldn’t manage
to form the words. Blaise noticed.
“Here!” he said quickly, picking up a glass of water from the bedside table and
lifting it to Harry’s lips. The green eyed boy almost cried as he felt the cool
liquid fill his dry throat. It was like he could finally breathe again. He
suddenly felt all the soreness move to the back of his mind – as long as he had
water, the rest would be fine. He gulped down as much as he could get, small
drops falling around his mouth, as Blaise was holding the cup. All too soon, he
felt the cool edge of the glass leave his cracked lips. He almost whimpered
from the loss of contact. He wanted to drink it all! Was that so bad?
"Harry, you can't drink it all, petit amour,” Blaise said, chuckling nervously.
Harry nearly wanted to cry again. “You have to pace yourself; you’ll only get
sick.”
Harry pouted unintentionally, but he knew Blaise was right. He really should
slow down: a few sips at a time, not move too much, maybe eat something….but
damn it, he wanted that water!
Clearing his throat, the raven tried to distract himself.
“Where – where am I?” he asked the Italian. “And where’s Dra – Malfoy? What
happened? Did you guys…save me?”
Blaise smiled, chucking at Harry’s use of ‘Draco’ accidentally. The raven and
the blonde were very similar in many ways. “You’re at Malfoy Manor. Draco is
downstairs seeming off his mother and her friends; they’re going to France for
holiday. And I suppose you could say we saved you…” He reached up to brush some
hair from Harry’s face – he was just so beautiful – and to his shock the boy
jerked back as if he had been hit, scrambling to the other side of the bed and
hiding under the blankets.
“Harry?” Blaise said worriedly, knowing the boy must have had a flashback.
“It’s okay, love…” He reached out again, slower, placing his hand on what he
thought was Harry’s shoulder. Blaise felt his heart break a little when Harry
jerked and cried out under his touch, starting to sob.
“Don’t…not again…please Uncle Vernon…no…” came a whimpering from the ball under
the blankets. “I promise, I can be better. I’ll do what they say…”
Blaise frowned. Who were ‘they’? And what was Harry supposed to do better?
Questions for another time, he decided as Harry cried harder. He was just
thankful that the boy’s wounds were healed for the most part; otherwise he
would have hurt himself badly by moving so much.
“Harry,” Blaise called softly. “Harry, look at me, please.” He saw the area
that may have been Harry’s head quiver slightly. He took this as a no. “He’s
not here, baby. He can’t hurt you again, I promise. Draco and I said we would
protect you and we will. We’ll never hurt you Harry, no matter what…”
Finally, a beautiful green eye peeked out. He was still crying, but looked to
be out of memory-land. Blaise sat slowly on the edge of the bed, and Harry
whispered cautiously, “R – really? Can’t hurt me? You’ll….protect me?”
Blaise nodded. “Yes, love, always. You’re our Mate, remember?”
At this a whole head emerged. Harry looked at him for a moment, and then said
softly, “Could I have some more water, please?”
“Of course!” Blaise answered immediately. He picked up the cup and handed to
Harry, not sure if he should try holding it for him again. To his shock, the
raven’s whole arm started to shake, and Blaise reached out to grab the cup just
in time.
“Sorry!” said Harry quickly, biting his lip nervously. “My arms just don’t want
to work right…”
“It’s fine,” the other boy assured him. “You’re hungry and you were hurt. It’s
normal. Here–”
He held the cup carefully for Harry again while he drank, and placed it on the
table when he finished. Before Blaise could speak, however, Harry did something
completely unexpected...
He launched himself into Blaise’s arms, crawling onto his lap and wrapping his
arms around his neck, resting his head on his shoulder.
“Safe…can’t hurt me…no more ‘customers’…” Harry mumbled happily. The Italian
had no idea who these ‘customers’ were, but that could wait.
“H – Harry?” Blaise asked, resting a hand on his small waist. “Are you sure–?”
Blaise wasn’t complaining – not at all – but he wasn’t sure if Harry was truly
ready to be so close to someone. He didn’t want to frighten him.
“Sorry!” Harry interrupted, pulling away from him. “I know I shouldn’t – I just
like being touched…when it doesn’t hurt. Sorry!” he added again at Blaise’s
incredulous look.
“No, Harry, its okay!” the Italian assured him. “I like holding you! You have
nothing to be sorry for, darling.”
Harry blushed at the endearment, but leaned back towards Blaise hopefully.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Blaise grinned, opening his arms for the other boy, and Harry
quickly scrambled back in. Blaise would have liked to chalk it up to his own
‘wonderful people skills’, but he knew better: their bond was simply making it
easier for Harry to accept comfort from him.
Soon, Harry was sleeping again. His messy black hair rested under Blaise’s
chin, tickling the other wizard’s nose. Blaise didn’t mind a bit; the smile on
his dark face was huge as he buried his face in Harry’s hair, breathing in his
scent. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He was used to holding Draco
while he slept, or just whenever he could. Harry was lighter, way lighter,
smaller, and there was also the fact that Blaise felt way more protective of
the brunette than he did the blonde.
His mind flashed to Harry's nightmare, shivers running down his mind. As much
as he acted the calm one, or like this didn't bother him too much, it did. This
scared the shit out of him. Why would someone want to hurt Harry (other than
Death Eaters of course, and most of those were in Azkaban)? Who was ‘they’?
Were ‘they’ the same as these ‘customers’? And what did he have to do ‘better’?
No matter what the answers were, he knew, deep in his very soul, he would
always protect Harry Potter. Always.
***************************************************************************
Draco found his Mates like this around fifteen minutes later. Blaise was
staring at Harry, who was sleeping on his lap, like he was the only person in
the world. Contrary to what he expected, Draco wasn’t a bit jealous. He didn’t
know why – maybe it had to do with how adorable Harry looked at that moment, or
that he had rarely seen Blaise look so happy before.
Draco shook his head roughly. He sounded like such a Hufflepuff – it was
probably just his worry coming back from when Harry was hurt. Yes, that would
be it.
But…Blaise may have had a point when he said that Harry would need both of them
to show that they cared about him. Blaise had said that his typical distance
could hurt Harry; Draco would have to admit to himself that he could care
openly about more than one person, or Harry could be hurt.
He had hide his emotions, his thoughts behind a mask for so long... That's what
his father had taught him, and some part of him, hated him for it. It was one
of the biggest things he had to learn to be with Blaise.
Blaise was a feeler, and when Draco would push off, or just offhand his
emotions, it hurt Blaise, even if the dark haired boy knew why he did that. The
blonde had always been like that, and he didn't know how to change that. His
father had forced that mask onto his face from a very young age, and as much as
his mother was ashamed to say, she hadn't stopped him.
But, of course, it would be very un-Malfoy like to act like an emotionally
Hufflepuff. At least in the elder Malfoy's eyes.
Staring at the two boys on the bed together, Draco just dropped all pretence.
He didn't want to be an emotionless Malfoy anymore. Didn't he promise himself
that after the war he would leave his old life behind? And what was he doing
now? Hiding behind a mask of the past, that’s what. He didn't want to be that
person anymore, and he had a feeling that Harry could help him with that.
Oh, who am I kidding? He thought, smiling unconsciously at Harry and Blaise.
Harry's our Mate and I...I care for him.
After years of denying most of his feelings, Draco was proud of himself to
admit this.
The blonde watched them, leaning against the door frame. He smiled when he saw
Blaise reach out to stroke the sleeping boy's cheek.
“Hey,” Blaise whispered when he saw the smiling blonde, though still very aware
of the boy currently sleeping in his lap.
Instead of answering his Mate, he walked over to the too-large bed and lay down
in front of them.
"Is he okay?” The blonde asked, his eyes moving to watch the beautiful boy in
Blaise's arms.
“Yeah, I guess so...”
“I don't want to guess anymore, I want to know for sure he's okay.”
The blonde didn't protest as Blaise grabbed his hand, and with a swift shift of
the brunette in his arms, they were lying side by side on the bed. Draco
reached out and wrapped his arms around Harry’s small waist, as Blaise wrapped
an arm around the both of them.
“Well, then we’ll fix him. We’ll make sure we won't have to guess anymore. We
will help him.”
With that, a determined look passed between both men, with a silent promise to
help their other half, before they returned to watching the green eyed boy
sleep.
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