Drarry - It Was All Just a Game (REWRITE - MATURE VERSION)

CHAPTER 45 - SOMNIUM AMICA MEA

TW: Suicidal Ideation; recall to attempt but no graphic scene with attempt

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Harry reread it six more times over the following few days. Maybe it was because he was bored, or maybe he was just skeptical and guarded. When the person you hand your heart to willingly sets it on fire and returns its ashes to you, you can't help but be protective of what you have left of it.

He tried looking at it from Draco's perspective, which hurt him so deeply, Harry was scared of it. But could you blame him? He spent an entire year removing the image of Draco from his life, forcing out the so-called "character" and making himself dehumanize Malfoy in his head just to cope with the concept of Malfoy getting hurt. Because Draco was in true danger now. He had been the past year and a half, but he never let Harry know, because he knew it would hurt Harry.

And that was the truth.

But reading it from Harry's perspective made Harry's own heart still cautious. Could he forgive Draco for everything he'd done to him? Because it still burned. Flashes of their anniversary popped into his head. Draco's Dark Mark, Draco praising it and smirking at the idea of Harry dying, Voldemort winning. Draco claiming he was a mastermind behind all of the horrible things that happened in Harry's life. 

And what if this was a trick, still? It probably wasn't, but... stranger things had happened. He'd felt so much more healed, still sore, but his world wasn't torturous anymore. There was still a part of him that wanted to watch out for him, but for so long Harry hated him, so much so his own body built up a defense mechanism to keep things like this from happening. He's just trying to lure you in again, hurt you again, a voice said, but he knew it wasn't his own, it was just a voice trying to protect him.

Were all of those sweet memories with Draco not poisoned? Harry had been poisoned and Draco's diary was his antidote?

"I'm going to cast the spell tonight."

They'd talked about it several times, whether or not he should do it, since he didn't know what type of magic the spell was, or what consequences could come of it. The war was still going on, and if Draco was bonded to Voldemort, there was a possibility that this could jeopardize everything.

But Harry needed to see him. He needed to tell Draco what he thought about it all.

"I'll keep watch," Hermione said. They'd packed everything up in case they needed to flee quickly. "Be safe. If you need to leave, then leave. I'll wake you if something is going on, we'll apparate and leave the tent."

Harry nodded. He then went back into the tent and lay on his cot. Closing his eyes, he whispered, Somnium Amica Mea.

There was a quick wind. His eyes were heavy, but then light, and he opened them. The walls around him changed: rather than being surrounded by a cloth tent, he was now in walls of stone.

Harry looked at his own skin which was slightly translucent and glowed. And then he looked around. . 

The room wasn't necessarily Draco's that he knew of. It was more spacious. It had copious bookshelves and a large desk. There was a four-poster bed twice the size of the one in the Slytherin Common Room. With someone on it.

Draco.

Draco sat crisscrossed on it, looked up and met his eyes. Harry swallowed hard. The thought of being with him, the thought of Draco being right there, right in front of him after months of hating him...

"Hey," Harry said nervously, and then slapped himself. Hey. That's what you're going to say? "H-How are you?"

Draco didn't react, and Harry wondered if he heard him. If he could see him. Maybe it was just a spell that let them visit each other, but not necessarily talk to each other.