Healing Draco Malfoy

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Trigger Warning: suicide idealization

Harry was shaking. He wasn't sure if it was from the cold, or how drunk he was. Calming Draughts tend to amplify when taken with firewhiskey. A little late to worry about that now, as he took another swig straight from the bottle. Tears came out as he realized how pathetic and shameful it was to be here, drunk and crying, at his parents' graves in the middle of the night. He sunk to the ground as he sat and stared at their headstone.

He took another drink. He hadn't even realized that he Apparated here, but Ron and Hermione would be looking for him. His list of places to hide was gone. Teddy's, Molly's, and his house would be the first checked. He couldn't stand the idea of being around strangers, and who would come to a cemetery in the middle of the night? drunk-him reasoned. Drunk-him was an idiot. He took another long drink.

He hadn't come back here since the war. He shivered again, recalling the images of his parents, Remus and Sirius, before he died. They said he was brave. They were proud of him.

"Yeh're not proud o' me anymore, are yeh?" Harry slurred, rocking back and forth. "How can you be? I'm a coward. A drunk, alcoholic weakling."

He set the bottle down and buried his face in his hands, as more tears poured out. Merlin, he really was such a fucking weakling. Things were so much simpler on that walk into the forest. Death awaited. Hell, Sirius, Remus and his parents were welcoming him to join them. He was supposed to die. That had been everyone's plan since before he was fucking born. His life should have ended at the end of Voldemort's wand. But no, he, the Chosen Fuck-Up, had to come back for more pain. He grabbed his bottle for another large swig.

"I shouldna have come back..." he breathed to them, sobbing as the damning words finally left his lips. It was where his life-long story of pain should have ended. He took another drink.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he lamented. "I tried to be strong. Tried... but I can't anymore. I j-just can't. Everyone will be better withou' me."

"That's not true, Harry," a voice suddenly said, from behind him.

Harry lurched to his feet and sent a stunner behind him, without looking. It ricocheted off a shield and blasted a nearby tree.

"It's Neville, Harry!" the eavesdropper declared, holding up his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

It took a second, but Harry recognized him. He meant to say something but swayed on the spot from his sudden movement upward. No one had ever seen him this bad before. He was resisting the urge to vomit.

"What... how?" he said, trying to make the world stop spinning.

"We're all worried about you, Harry. We love you, you know that right?"

The world finally settled a little. It dawned on him. Ron and Hermione had sent out for help, and Neville was going to bring him to them. He took a deep breath and tried to think of another safe to jump to, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes confused and tried to turn on the spot, again.

"The Anti-Apparation wards are up, Harry," Neville said, softly. His hands were still up.

Harry's eyes darted to him. "Yeh're tryin' to k-keep me here?" he slurred.

"Harry, you cannot Apparate when you're like this. You could splinch yourself, badly. You could die or wind up anywhere, Harry. Anywhere. Frankly, I'm surprised that you got here okay," Neville said, slowly and deliberately.

Harry blinked. He had been a bit confused about how he got here. He knew he wanted some relief from his pain, a quiet place. But he shook his dazed head and met Neville's eyes. They were full of concern... and knowledge.