Starting Again. ('Over' Series part 3) (Drarry and Harry Potter Fanfiction)

One

A frail blonde boy was standing on the top step, he was pale and clearly beaten. A black eye was forming and his porcelain skin was smattered with blood and bruises. He was nursing his arm, a wand feebly clutched in his fingers. Leaning on the doorframe for the stability he whispered:

"They've disowned me. It's over now."

Without so much as a second thought, Harry closed the door. It was something closer to self-preservation than conscious thinking at this point. The boy's eyes, the shape of his lips, even the way his breathing changed when he spoke-

Harry gasped, realising he'd been holding his breath.

Relaxing, he leant back against the dark wood door and closed his eyes. As if his life had ever been normal or easy, the last few weeks had been particularly challenging. Not only trying to deal with the loss of his longtime friend and short term lover, but also trying to understand and rectify Draco's behaviour.

Draco.

Harry heaved another sigh, this time letting his back slide down the door to sit on the floor. The commotion of feeling was disarming but amongst the buzz, Harry felt himself getting angry. Angry at Draco, the hold he still had on Harry and angry at the fact that he showed up here, at Grimmauld Place where so many happy memories were made between the two of them. But everything was different now, that had been more than a year ago and Harry almost wished more time had passed between the two Christmases. His life had taken a sharp 180 turn since then.

But somehow everything always came back to Draco and himself.

And maybe Harry didn't hate that as much as he should.

"Who was it?"

The voice shook him out his mind, the warm feeling of Draco's voice leaving him as he stumbled to stand up.

"Harry?" She asked, looking a little suspicious, Hermione stood at the end of the hall.

"It was no one." He sighed, beginning to make his way toward the stairs.

She looked more weary than inquisitive, the usual determination in her expression replaced by dark circles and messy hair.

"Harry," Hermione repeated, almost pleading.

"Please just back off Hermione." Harry's raised voice reverberated off the dusty walls, the characters in the portraits on the walls looked up at him in surprise and the house seemed to be taken aback by his outburst. It also summoned Ron, how'd been trying to disperse the tension between Harry and Hermione for months.

"Guys, what's going on?" he sounded less tired than the witch at his side, but the upbeat edge in his voice was missing. Everything seemed so much duller than before, nothing would ever be the same.

Upon this realisation, the nauseating guilt started wrapping Harry up again. He clenched his hands into fists, feeling his fingernails cut into his palm.

He mumbled a quick "I'm sorry." Before taking off up the stairs. Harry slumped into bed, not wanting to sleep but just needing to retreat. From what?

That's what he was trying to figure out.

He could hear Ron talking to Hermione downstairs.

"You know how he is." Sigh "Everyone deals with... 'grief' differently."

Pause.

"It's just-" Harry thought he could hear Hermione snuffle "Why does he have to be like that."

"Hey, hey-" Ron cooed, clearing trying to comfort her through her tears. Harry rolled over trying not to hear the rest of their conversation, he hated himself enough for the stuff he heard he didn't need to agonise over the stuff he shouldn't hear.

Letting his mind wander soon became dangerous as his thoughts walked straight back to Draco. He was never far from Harry's mind, bringing with him all the pain from the Astronomy Tower and from The Burrow. The only thing that flushed out the pain was anger. And Harry seemed to have that by the boatload. He lay on the bed, getting more and more frustrated at the last month's events until he could no longer sit still. He was pacing the room frantically, his hands running through his hair merely out of habit.

Draco, after everything, Draco had come to him. He'd found Harry at this 'secure location' after he'd tried to kill him after he'd killed Fred-

Harry tightened his arms around Draco's shoulders and his chest, reminding the boy that he was present, in body and mind.

Draco sighed, humming out in content.

"What're you thinking?" He whispered into the other boy's fine white hair, taking in its fresh smell as he inhaled, making him think of summer even in the middle of winter.

"The future," The blonde replied just as quietly, not missing a beat.

"Oof." Harry groaned jokingly, smiling as he kissed the back of Draco's head

"Sometimes it looks really bleak, you know." He prompted, deciding not to roll over and meet Harry's eye "Like in Divination, sometimes the leaves don't form a cryptic pattern, sometimes they just cover the bottom of the cup and there's just... darkness." He sighed the last word, gripping Harry a little tighter.

"But right now, it's hard to accept just that darkness." Draco rearranged his head to hear Harry's heartbeat. "I can't help but imagine a Sunday morning like this in 10 years, and were living in this shitty apartment-"

They both laughed quietly, an inside joke.
"And the coffee is brewing in one of those Italian pots and your hands are warm around mine..."

His breath caught slightly in his throat

"I want to promise you that future." It felt more serious, the intention behind Harry's words made Draco sit up and look at him.

"Harry-" He tried to protest, his eyes sad.

"I promise to make you happy, you deserve a promise like that," Harry whispered, their faces closer and eyes locked.

Draco inhaled, taken back but not taken by surprise.

"I promise that I'll love you." Leaning in closer "That I'll love you, forever."

Harry's stomach lurched and he sat up with a gasp. Reaching up to rub his eyes, he found his cheeks and lashes wet. It took him a moment, remembering everything he'd just been mad about. All the guilt and frustration, every moment of uncertainty and every insatiable desire. The promises, now broken, and those plans similarly were forgotten. It had amounted to this, Harry crying alone in his room, death still lingering on his shoulders.

Because after everything, it was Draco.