Harry
“Stop, or we will open fire!”
His chest and feet ached from the exertion. His stomach ached, yet all he could think about as he tumbled through the woods was freedom.
Freedom, I’m so close to it.
The Aurors were gaining on him, however. But that was no matter, all he needed to do was make it to the apparition point, then he would be free.
He already knew a place where he’d be taken care of. He just needed to get there.
A jet of red light flew past his face, singing some stray hairs. They were getting a little too close for comfort.
He put his head down and sprinted with every ounce of his being, running like his life depended on it.
He stumbled into a clearing, feeling a shiver run down his spine as he passed through the barrier of magic marking the area. The feeling of the magic soaking through him was invigorating.
Within seconds, his gut twisted, and the snap of apparation echoed through the area.
—-------
When Draco walked into Church clutching Fresh, Vibrant Cranberry Scones, the atmosphere was slightly more abuzz than he was used to. Even Potter, who’d only been to a handful of Masses, noticed.
People were whispering to each other, eyes wide as they glanced around. It wasn’t until during the service that he found out why.
“Dear Members of Our Church Family, We have an important and heartfelt announcement to share with you today. As a community guided by compassion and our faith's values, we have chosen to provide sanctuary to Agustus, a war veteran, who is facing persecution.
Augustus' journey has led him to our doors, seeking refuge within our church. They have come to us in a time of great need, and as followers of Christ's teachings, we have extended our hand in support and protection.
Augustus’ situation is a complex one, and we believe that offering sanctuary is in alignment with our commitment to compassion, justice, and solidarity. We invite you to join us in this act of compassion and advocacy. There are several ways you can help:
Please keep Augustus in your prayers during these challenging times. We welcome those who wish to volunteer their time and expertise to assist Augustus during their stay with us, and we encourage our congregation to raise awareness about Augustus' situation within our wider community.
As some of you may already know, more details are already available in our church bulletin. We will also be holding a community meeting in the coming days to provide an opportunity for open discussion and to answer any questions you may have.
Let us come together, as a loving and caring community, to offer Augustus the support, compassion, and hope that they need during this trying period. Thank you for your understanding and your commitment to our shared values. Thank you.”
Murmurs arose among the pews, but Draco’s attention peaked when he felt Harry tense up beside him. He turned to see his eyes wide.
“What is it?” Draco asked, brows furrowed.
“Augustus Rookwood escaped from Azkaban a few days ago, but the Aurors chasing him down lost him.”
Draco’s heart clenched.
“Well… there’s no guarantee that this is the same one… right?”
“I don’t know.”
Draco swallowed.
After Mass, Neville showed up again, and he pulled Harry aside for yet another conversation, leaving Draco with Hannah Abbott again.
"I'm furious," she huffed. Draco could see that she was all nervous energy, bouncing off the tips of her toes, glancing around constantly. "It's Rookwood they've got back there, I know because he stumbled in on Friday. I thought they'd turn him away..."
Draco wasn't sure how to handle this. She was equal parts vehement and on the verge of tears. He thought of some way he could respond.
"Are... are you alright?"
"No," she snapped, looking him up and down. "Oh, please... you're one to speak. He's a death eater just like you... Don't play dumb with me."
"I wasn't playing anything. I-"
"Oh, shut it. The only difference between you and him is that he served time."
"What does that mean-"
"You're still a death eater. You should've rotted in Azkaban with him, too...only lord know why you're here instead. Both of you."
Before Draco could reply, Harry and Neville rejoined them.
Hannah's gaze snapped towards Potter, her lips curling.
"Harry, I hope you're very acutely aware of what's going on. I hope that you'll inform the auror offices immediately. I know I will..."
Harry nodded, not meeting her gaze.
"Of course. Thank you, Hannah."
She huffed, and spun on her heel, stomping away.
Neville let out a sigh, shaking his head.
"Well, that could've gone better. She's not wrong, though."
"Neville, don't be like that," Harry chastised.
"Why? You heard what she said, and you know it's true... Rookwood isn't earning of any sort of sanctuary."
Neville walked away with a sigh, jogging to catch up with Abbott. Potter suggested that he and Draco go back to the flat.
The entire walk home, Draco's mind kept running itself in circles. He was stunned to hear Hannah's opinion of him.
Not that it isn't warranted… And Draco knew that there were bound to be people who still see him for the mark on his arm.
But hearing it out loud, in public, it struck Draco more than he expected.
When Draco was faced with the front door of his flat, a chill went up his spine as unease rose to the surface. He felt himself needing to look around for people in the area.
Was someone watching them? Was someone following them?
The killer? Waiting?
Draco suddenly felt unsafe. The hairs on the back of his neck rose up in apprehension.
They could be shortly behind me, waiting to strike, ready to attack-
"Hey, are you okay?"
Draco's vision went back into focus. He didn't realize that it had gone out of focus in the first place. Potter was standing at the doorway, the door open wide.
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," Potter replied. Draco simply walked past him into the flat. It took all of his composure to not take the door from Potter’s hand and close it himself. As soon as it was closed, he gently pushed Potter out of the way to begin locking it.
One, two, three...
"I don't understand your preoccupation with locking the door."
Draco paused, letting out a breath, then continued his ritual.
"I need to make sure the door is locked."
Four, five, six, seven...
"Because you're afraid you'll be broken into? That's why I'm here. To make sure nothing happens. I put wards over your flat to make sure you're safe. You don't need to lock the door, what? Twenty times?"
Draco huffed, pausing again. Potter, stop talking. Ignore me, please. Stop.
Fuck, where was I? How many times have I locked the door?
Fuck. Draco could feel the anxiety slowly beginning to rise again. I need to start over. I can’t risk- I can’t- I need to make sure the door stays locked.
"Draco, seriously, why do you keep locking the door?"
"Just leave me alone!" Draco shouted, spinning around and facing the wall, resting his forehead against it, breathing hard. He couldn't help the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.
Why couldn't he remember how many times he had locked the door? How did he manage to forget?
"Please, just leave me alone. I need to- I need to make sure."
He felt a gentle hand on his back.
"I can't just leave you alone when you're so obviously distressed."
Draco's mind was racing with possibilities.
The door's unlocked. He'll break in and kill me. I have to make sure- I have to start over.
"Just… let me finish locking the door, okay?"
"Alright," Harry responded gently.
"Thank you."
Draco wiped at the tears which had yet to fall and sniffled violently. He took a breath, then began again, starting at one.
By the time he finished, his hands were shaking. Images of a cloaked figure over him kept flashing through his mind, the memory of being swiped from the market, of sharp, cold metal skin raised with goosebumps, the feeling of gaping, unnatural openness, it was all flooding his brain. He did not feel safe, or calm. He could not leave from his position in front of the flat's door. His locking ritual had only barely helped. And every time he had a moment to stop thinking about the attack and start thinking about the door, self-doubt would creep in.
What if you actually finished off with the door unlocked?
What if you didn't perform the spell correctly?
What if you didn't test the door with enough force?
You are in danger. You will die. You will be attacked again.
"Are you done now?"
Draco's breath caught. He could not move. He could not respond.
"You don't deserve freedom," he hissed, just then, pain shot from Draco's hand up through his arm and to the rest of his body.
"Tell me everything you know about the remaining Death Eaters, or I'll continue to cut your fingers off, one by one."
"-Draco?"
Draco startled. He'd forgotten about Potter. He looked down at his hand. He could see the tremors in his fingers that never quite went away.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine," Draco managed to choke out.
"Did you finish locking the door?"
The door. Draco turned to look at the white wooden thing, unmoving. You can't be sure that he won't break in.
"I am God's Wrath."
Weakly, he shook his head, muttering a "no." He couldn't understand what was happening to him. All he knew was that he needed to ensure his safety. He needed to.
He began locking the door again, no longer keeping count. He decided that he must do this until it felt right. Until the thoughts are completely and properly locked away. Until he could breathe properly again. Until he felt safe.
When he finished, he felt a sense of security wash over him. However, it was warped and twisted in a way that Draco did not enjoy. He was stuck perplexed by the idea that he no longer had a set way of establishing safety other than that sensation that came over him. The only active thoughts that were running through his head were I'm safe. I'm safe now. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay. Nobody can enter this flat.
And Draco hated that. Even as much as he let it comfort him, it felt artificial, and forced.
He felt trapped, like he couldn't even control the thoughts that were going through his head. Like his mind had been hijacked.
"Are you okay, now?" Harry's voice cut through the static. Draco was unable to look at him. He kept his eyes glued to the floor.
"Yes."
"Can you please tell me what's going on? Why do you need to keep the door locked so many times?"
Draco was still.
"I... I'm not sure."
"You don't have to lie to me. I... I get it if you don't really want to share, but at this point, It's... I'm concerned. For you."
Draco didn't move. He didn't say anything. What was he supposed to say?
"You know you can tell me if you need anything, right? I'll try my best to get it for you."
Draco did not know. And the more he thought about it, the more that reality set itself down on his shoulders, the worse he felt. Part of him wanted to ignore it. Part of him screamed to get up and clean something, bake, do anything to distract himself. Draco began to fidget, becoming bothered by the heaviness in his chest. He couldn't handle it.
He wasn't safe. He didn't feel safe. He didn't feel calm. He felt scared and small and exposed.
"I know," Draco forced out, feeling like a stone had lodged itself into his throat.
"Draco," Harry pleaded. "Just tell me. Please. You can trust me."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Do you want me to talk about it?"
"No," he said all too quickly.
"Alright. I just- I worry. About you."
Draco didn't need this. He didn't need his problems to keep being pushed into the spotlight. "Don't."
"That's impossible."
Draco stood up and turned around, channelling everything he could into simulating some sort of fiery anger. It was easier to keep himself together that way.
"It's not impossible, Potter, because this isn't your job. Your job is to find the person who put us in this situation to begin with."
Harry was silent, his brows furrowed, his eyes searching. Draco's face began to heat up, a feeling of embarrassment spreading through his chest.
"Potter, stop looking at me like that," he snapped.
"Like what?"
"Like- I don't know. Just- stop soul searching or whatever bloody crap you think you're doing."
"You're clearly not fine, and we need to talk about it."
"There's nothing to talk about!"
"I can't help if you won't talk to me."
"I don't need your help!" Draco's voice continued to raise in volume as he forced the anger to build.
"You obviously do! Just talk to me."
"Fuck off!"
"Draco, please!"
"Stop fucking- stop fucking asking about it, Potter!" Draco breathed hard, feeling exasperated.
"You're the one who was standing there lost in your own world, locking and unlocking the door for more than a half-hour!"
"So, what?!"
"I just want to help you!"
"Then find my attacker and bloody kill him already, instead of playing mind healer with me!"
"I-" Potter nearly shouted. He huffed, scrubbing at his face with his hands. "I'm bloody trying! God, I'm trying! I'm sorry I haven't found him. I'm sorry that all of this shite has happened to you!" The air within the flat stood still. Draco could feel the heaviness in his chest returning, this time stronger. Potter spoke again. "But you are very clearly hurt. And damn me for caring. Lord knows I don't need the extra stress of being worried about you. But I do it anyway."
Draco's nostrils flared. He tried to come up with something, anything to snap back with, to keep his defences up. But they all died on his tongue.
"Fuck, Malfoy," Harry's voice softened. "You..."
Draco swallowed, looking down, trying to hide his face.
"I don't know what's going on in your head," Harry said gently, "but you need to tell me, or at least someone, what's going on. Don't let it eat you alive."
Draco couldn't breathe.
"What you're doing, the way you're living, isn't normal. It's compulsive and fear-driven and it scares me."
Draco clenched his jaw, the burning sensation behind his eyes threatening to spill over. He blinked hard.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," he choked out.
"That's fine. We'll figure it out. Together. Alright?"
"You can't fix me, Potter," he mumbled.
"I know."
"I don't even think it's fixable."
"That doesn't mean I'm not going to try."
Draco tried hard to breathe through his urge to break down. He could feel Potter looking at him.
"I'm scared."
"I know."
Draco let his shoulders relax. He pinched his eyes shut. Harry was quick to come to his side and pull him into a hug.
Draco had never been a particularly physical person. He'd never enjoyed the prospect of intimacy. Even now, his stomach squirmed and his hands tingled uncomfortably. He kept concentrating hard on his breaths. This- it was already too much. He didn't know why he was letting Potter hug him in the first place, but he felt too ragged to try and push him away.
And part of him didn't want the hug to end. He wanted the warmth. He wanted the comfort. He wanted the reassurance that he was not alone.
"You can cry, you know."
With that, Draco's carefully controlled breaths burst, and he found himself sobbing and trembling, holding onto Potter's embrace like a lifeline. He'd never been this close with someone. Never. And the realization made him cry even harder.
He'd never been shown genuine care or love. Not even in his family. Sure, he'd been cared for, loved, even…
He felt like he was falling in love with Astoria, but it had been too soon to tell. But this... This wasn't the same. And it was terrifying.
He could feel Potter passing his hand up and down Draco's back. He could feel warmth and softness and security all at once. His tears had wholly soaked through Potter's shirt, yet neither of them moved.
When Draco calmed, he was able to think, and suddenly, the intimacy he was sharing with Potter became all the more overwhelming.
"Okay," he said, sniffling. "You can let go of me now."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Potter, I'm sure."
Harry slowly pulled away, and Draco could see the hefty tear stain across the shoulder of his shirt. Draco sniffled.
"Sorry, I got your shirt all wet."
Harry shrugged. "It's fine. It'll dry."
Draco nodded, not really sure what to say. He could still feel Potter's warmth all over. Part of him wanted to feel that again.
"How are you feeling?" Potter looked so sincere, so caring. Draco wondered briefly what possessed him to seem so.
"I'm okay."
Harry nodded.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"Not right now."
"That's fine. But when you're ready, I'm here." And the sheer sincerity of it all made draco fully believe that. Potter would be there for him. And that might not be so bad.
"Thank you, Potter."
"Oh, and, can you do me a favor? Call me Harry."
"Oh..." Draco was caught off guard by the request. "Harry," he tested.
"Yeah?"
Draco nodded, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He'd never called Potter by his first name. He'd always kept it separate. But, he supposed Harry Potter had earned a first-name basis by now, right? He decided he would try, for him.
Draco smiled, despite the circumstances.
"Thank you, Harry."