Disclaimer: Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
This is a sequel to the story "Dear Mr. Potter". If you haven't read that, you will be mightily confused while reading this.
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Not again.
Please, not again.
The trees were blurs as he ran past. He could hear them behind him. Their breath, their smell, their hands reaching for him. Why? Why had he defied Draco? Draco had told him not to go, not to be a hero.
The shadows were close. He could feel them, smell them. They were right behind him. He clutched the bundle of cloth in his arms tighter as he darted through the brush and around the trees. He was faster, he was smarter, he was more nimble. He had to remember that. He wouldn't let them catch him this time. Not this time.
"Don't be afraid, little one."
He hated that voice! Why wouldn't it shut up! He couldn't let them catch him.
The trees were thinning. He was almost out. He could see light ahead. If he just ran a bit faster, just a bit quicker, he'd be out of the dark. They couldn't reach him.
The root grabbed his foot and he fell, hard. The bundle of cloth flew from his arms. No, he had to get it. He quickly scrambled to his knees and crawled to the white cloth. Why is it red? It was white. Why is it red? As he got close enough he could see that the cloth had loosened, revealing its contents. He crept closer and peered inside the crumpled cloth.
No!
No! He couldn't have failed again!
The twisted and mangled flesh twitched grotesquely. The tiny mouth opened and enlarged canines glistened in the half-human face. Little hands reached for him, one with claws, one still human.
"If you had stayed with us, little one, none of this would have happened."
No! Hands grabbed him and began dragging him away.
No! Draco! Help me! I need you! Please help me! I'm sorry!
"Harry!"
The hands shook him hard.
"Harry!"
Green eyes, filled with tears, blinked open and stared into silver.
"Draco?"
Draco exhaled loudly and shook his head, blond hair swaying over Harry's face and tickling his nose. Then the face dropped closer and kissed Harry gently.
"The dream again?" he asked, pulling back. His hand released Harry's shoulder and brushed away a tear that had slid free, down the olive-toned cheek.
Harry closed his eyes, causing another tear to fall. It, too, was brushed gently away. When he opened them again, he had calmed his rapid heartbeat a bit.
"Yeah," he breathed. "Sorry."
Draco sighed again and sat up, keeping a hand on the other man's body. "I thought we were done with those. I spent a lot of Galleons on sending you to that bloke at St. Mungo's," he said testily, as he reached over to the nightstand beside him and turned on the small reading lamp. Raking a hand through his long hair, he turned his silver eyes onto his bedmate. "I was told he was the best. I'll make sure he never works again, the cheating bastard."
