Paper Doves
Draco watched as Harry left, seeing him wipe the tears that had begun to pour.
Abruptly, a sharp pain in his chest made him cry out. He was on his knees in seconds, a hand gripping his chest in agony.
He could barely breathe. His lungs were being squeezed to death. Jesus was this it?! Was he out of time already?
What the hell was going on? This felt nothing like the pain he’d been experiencing for the last few months.
He could barely feel. He was going numb. His heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to get off of the ground.
Soon he was passing out.
He awoke to three voices, all shouting different things over one another. They were all in a panicked tone.
“Draco, what the hell happened to you,” Blaise was the first to actually address him as soon as he realized he was awake.
The pain in his chest was faint but still present. He winced. “I-“Blaise, he’s clearly very unwell, just let him heal!” Pansy interrupted, shooing the boy away from him.
His head felt as though it were spinning in all different directions. Through his coughing fit, he asked for a glass of water.
“Did Harry find you?” Neville asked as Draco came to his senses. By now, Pansy had taken a seat close to Draco, while Blaise sat next to Neville.
Fuck. He’d slapped Harry for god sakes. He would be lucky if the Gryffindor would even allow him in the same room as him anymore. It killed Draco to think how heartbroken he looked after. It was odd to, not the normal look you’d expect from someone who has only platonic feelings for you.
“If you want us to help you, you need to tell us what happened,” Blaise spoke sternly.
“I.. okay.”
And so Draco spilled everything, how he found Harry snooping around him bedroom, how they had talked for hours. He told them how Harry had found him, and how he had tried to calm him down.
“And then I slapped him,” Draco winced. It sounded so gruesome coming out of his mouth. He was greeted with three dropped jaws.
“You hit him?!” Pansy gawked.
“I-it was self defense, he got too close a-and I panicked,” Draco shouted, holding his arms up in defense. “A-and my chest hasn’t stopped hurting since, I’ve never felt like this before.”
“Draco, did he cry?” Neville asked.
“Well a bit, I suppose,” Draco responded.
“God Longbottom, are you trying to make some kind of joke about how men shouldn’t cry?!” Pansy spat, folding her arms.
“No Pansy, I’m not,” Neville refuted, “In fact, I’m appalled you would ever think of me that way.” Draco watched him wink at Pansy, who blushed.
Just kiss already, damn it.
“Why do you ask?” Draco interrupted, trying to get them back on topic. All he got in response was a serious look from Neville. “Goddamn it, if you have one more thing to tell me about this fucking disease that you’ve decided not to tell me, you better have a good explanation.”
The Gryffindor sighed sympathetically. “Draco, if the beloved of someone with Hanahaki disease cries because of their doing, their lungs will be tortured by the flower until their beloved ceased crying.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding.
Draco’s heart sat in his stomach. He could still feel his chest screaming in pain.
Harry was still crying.
Every ounce of pain Draco felt was because he had made Harry Potter cry.
He was for sure going to hell.
“Why, dear god, did you not tell me this sooner?” Draco said through gritted teeth. Partially because he was in a lot of pain, partially because he was pissed.
“Because I didn’t think that would ever happen,” Neville admitted, “I’m sorry Draco, but I never imagined you would make Harry cry.”
He wasn’t entirely wrong.
Draco had been a dick to Harry most of his life, so it’s wrong to assume he wouldn’t fall back on his old habits when he felt awkward around him. Yet now, Neville was completely right to assume that because Draco liked Harry, he would do anything to spare his feelings.
“I’ve ruined it.”
“Don’t say that,” Blaise chimed in.
“I’ve ruined it. It’s over,” Draco mumbled, his head falling in his hands. “I’m screwed.”
He knew that now would be one of the moments that he would start to hyperventilate. That he would start to cough, to choke.
Yet nothing. Draco didn’t even have enough energy to cry. He was shattered.
And Harry was still crying.
“Draco, you aren’t screwed, even if you hit him, I’m sure he’ll understand it was a mistake,” Pansy reassured, placing a soft hand on his back.
“I’m sure if you talked it out, he’d understand,” Suggested Neville. “I could get you into the Gryffindor tower, I’m sure he wouldn’t deny you if you were standing outside his door.”
“I’d be surprised if he’d even allow me in the same room as him,” Draco groaned. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me after it happened. I can still see his face.”
Draco wanted to cry. Honestly, he did. It would make it far easier if he was crying alongside Harry. He was doomed. He’d ruined any chance he had of ever getting Harry Potter to love him back.
“Just breathe,” Neville pulled him out of his slowly starting spiral, “And when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the Gryffindor Common room.”
Draco nodded.
It’s okay. He was okay. He just needed to cool down, that’s all.
Draco quirky excused himself from the group, Pansy eyeing him as he went to his dorm.
Opening the door, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He felt safe. He quickly shut his door and flopped onto his bed. Grabbing a pink throw pillow, he squeezed the ever-loving life out of it. It felt good to get his anger out. He’d never hated himself more than he had now.
He just needed a nap, that would surely help. Then he would wake up and go see Harry. He’d apologize and things would hopefully go back to normal.
The pillow still in his, now more gentle, grasp, Draco slipped under his covers and shut his eyes.
His chest still hurt. Harry was still crying.
It had been almost two hours since he’d last seen Draco. Yet Harry was still crying. By now it didn’t make sense. Maybe Draco had just slapped him really hard or something, because if he hadn’t then Harry would’ve stopped crying a while ago.
But that wouldn’t make sense. Draco wasn’t entirely weak, but he sure wasn’t that strong to seriously damage someone without a wand. So then why was the Gryffindor still crying?
Unless it wasn’t about the pain. Draco felt silly for even thinking it, but what if he had really hurt Harry’s feeling?
What feelings? Harry didn’t have any sort of feelings for Draco, not even platonic. Right?
Draco felt horrid. His chest was practically on fire. Had Harry really been that hurt? It didn’t make much sense at all. Unless Harry truly does care about Draco.
It made him smile a little.
It was a horrible time to smile, truly. He’d just hit another student after all. But to have the slightest notion that Harry Potter cares for him, even just a little, he couldn’t help but smile.
Thirty minutes had passed when the crying finally stopped. Draco’s chest was at ease. He was asleep in seconds, passed out on his satin pink pillows.
When he finally awoke, it was nighttime. He searched for his wand and whispered “lumos.” The clock on the wall almost read nine.
No time like the present.
Getting out of his robes and uniform, Draco dressed himself in something far more comfortable. He pulled a navy blue jumper over his head, before stepping into gray slacks. He laced the navy blue muggle converse Pansy gifted him for his birthday, trying his best to not use magic. It was complicated.
He took a moment to wipe any tears that had stained his cheeks a few hours ago and comb his hair only once. A quick check in the mirror was all he needed before he rushed to find Neville.
The situation he found him in was both expected and not. Pansy was fast asleep on his shoulder as he struggled to stay awake reading a book.
He didn’t want to say anything. Didn’t want to ruin the moment, he supposed. Neville seemed content where he was, and he knew for a fact Pansy was definitely satisfied with her current position.
Neville noticed his presence and smiled, “Think you’re ready?”
“I don’t even know what to say to him,” Draco shook his head. “What if he won’t see me?”
“Then you’ll try again tomorrow.”
And with that, Neville lifted Pansy’s head gently off his shoulder. She groggily awoke, a faint blush on her cheeks. She mumbled a soft hello to Neville who responded with a kiss on her forward.
“Let me escort her to her room and then we’ll head to the Common room,” Neville called to Draco as he led Pansy up the stairs, a gentle hand around her waist.
Draco was happy to see his friend taken care of. He had to admit, when Pansy first admitted her feelings for the Gryffindor two years ago, Draco was more than displeased about it. But he learned that Neville was the best of the best when it came to treating his lover well. The boy was definitely a gentleman.
In a few minutes, Neville was heading down the Slytherin stairs, a dreamy look upon his face.
“What sort of love potion did she give you?” Draco chuckled.
“We’ve been going out for two weeks, mate,” Neville snickered.
Draco felt dumbfounded. “Bloody Hell! I’m surprised she kept it from me this long, I would’ve expected to be the first to know.”
“You are the first to know,” Neville repeated. “Be lucky she let me tell you.”
Draco followed Neville through the halls of Hogwarts. It felt like having his own personal escort.
The further they walked, the more sick he felt. He was nervous. He could not simply
waltz into the Gryffindor Common room and barge his way into Harry Potter’s bedroom, demanding he talk to him. It sounded absurd.
But he needed to fix what he had broken.
Harry had begun to cry again. Draco’s lungs cried in pain as he followed Neville up the long staircase. The closer they inched towards the painting, the closer Draco was to chickening out.
Whispering the password, Neville held the door between his fingers and his thumb, “I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”
Draco watched as he stepped through the painting, hearing a voice scold him the moment he appeared. “Where have you been?”
“I fell asleep at the library, that’s all,” He heard Neville lie. Soon he heard another voice, “Like hell you did, you were probably out with your Slytherin girlfriend again weren’t you.”
Ron and Hermione were there. Draco for sure had no way of getting to Harry now. No doubt Harry told them what had happened.
Draco grew curious. He always wondered what the Gryffindor Common room looked like. He could stop himself from reaching for the door.
“Well, the thing is..” Neville started, when their attention was caught by the creaking of a door. They were stunned to see Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway.
Well, stunned was an odd way to put it. To be quite honest, the expressions on Hermione and Ron had barely changed when they saw the Slytherin.
“He’s here?” Ron asked, albeit it was hard to hear him, he spoke almost under a whisper.
Neville nodded.
Draco stood awkwardly in the doorway, afraid to come in. The room was beautiful cozy, the velvet red couches looked extremely comfortable. The wooden bookshelves and hanging plants gave the room a very earthy feeling, something he wished he had back in the Slytherin Common room.
“Harry is the third door on the left,” Hermione said softly.
The couple looked shaken, as if they were nervous for what might happen. Or as if they’d accepted defeat.
He hesitantly stepped into the room, immediately regretting his decision. He could easily change his mind, turn on his heel, and leave.
A flower grew just above his tailbone.
Alright, so we’re doing this.
Slowly creeping up the stairs, he knew all three Gryffindors were watching. Three pairs of eyes were set on him.
Hermione had told the truth. The third door to the left had a shimmering golden label on it that read Harry Potter.
There was a small glow of light coming from under the door. A candle, no doubt. He could smell the apple cinnamon and mint from beyond the door.
A soft knock is all he can manage. He doesn’t trust his words. He’s regretting his decision, unsure if Harry could have even heard that.
When there was no response, he clears his throat. “Hello?”
God his voice is hoarse, he didn’t even sound like himself. He hardly ever did anymore.
Still no response.
“Potter, are you in there,” Draco choked. He could feel the sweat dripping down his neck. This was a mistake.
He was more than ready to get the hell out of there when a knock responded.
One single knock.
Draco hesitantly knocked twice.
Two knocks came in response.
“Potter?”
Silence.
“Harry?”
Nothing.
Draco knew it was time to leave. He shivered the tension out of his shoulders was about to head down the staircase when something was slipped under the door.
A paper swan.
Its crumpled and damaged. As he reached down to pick it up, Draco could barely make out the scribble of notes on the parchment.
The handwriting was his own. It was his swan.
Surprisingly, Harry’s door opened. Draco found himself face to face with the Gryffindor. The slap mark was still present. Draco could have sworn he was fighting the urge to cry.
He couldn’t stop himself, his body moving too soon. He engulfed Harry into a tight hug. It was awkward, for sure, but it was well needed. And Harry was quick to hug back.
Draco had been smart to wear a thick sweater, just incase. The material would be able to hide the budding flowers.
Harry slumped his head on Draco’s shoulder, trembling in his arms. It was definitely weird to be hugging someone who had hit him mere hours ago, but he didn’t care.
Draco could feel the brunette’s heartbeat, a similar pace to his own. Quick and panicked. He could stay in Harry’s arms for eternity.
Draco, for fear of eventually hugging all the air out of him, broke the hug first. The butterflies were becoming too much to handle for him, if he spent another second in Harry’s arms he’d surely cough up a bouquet.
“You kept this?” He asked, his voice shaky. He was still clutching the paper swan between his fingers, examining its details as an excuse not to look up at Harry.
“All twelve of them,” The Gryffindor muttered, his own voice hoarse, most likely from crying. “I guess I just liked how they looked.
Draco looked over Harry’s shoulder for a moment, noting a shelf of paper swans in his room.
“May I come in?”
Harry nodded.
It was once again very awkward, sitting atop Harry Potter’s bed. The Gryffindor’s room was a mess, quidditch uniform strewed on the ground, books and parchment all over the place. But Draco wasn’t too surprised.
The room did smell nice though. Exactly like Harry. The soft hint of pine and cinnamon was comforting.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Harry had kept his eyes on Draco, a longing in his look.
“I’d like to-“You don’t need to say anything, it was my fault for stepping on you like that.”
Draco swallowed. He could feel tears ready to burst. Harry gave him a soft smile.
“Please just let me say it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Harry’s smile faded. He sighed. “Thank you.”
Draco couldn’t look at him any longer for fear of crying. He instead scanned his eyes around Harry’s room once more. There were photographs everywhere, decorating almost every wall.
Some were of the Golden trio, others of Remus and Sirius, some were of Harry and his other Gryffindor friends.
One caught his attention. Draco was quick to get off the bed and exam it.
“Is this of you and me?”
Harry had come up next to him now, the presence next to him sent a chill down Draco’s spine. “It sure is.”
“When was this?”
“It’s from third year.”
“Well yes, I know that. You wrote the year under the photo. But what game was this?”
“The one where you twisted your wrist trying to get the snitch.”
Draco sneered. Harry met his gaze with a smug grin. He couldn’t help but blush, mumbling some curse under his breath.
He hesitated. “I.. I’m so sorry, Harry.”
“Harry? That’s new,” The Gryffindor giggled. If Draco wasn’t already madly in love with the boy, that giggle would have done it for him. Harry continued, “I promise you, it’s alright. It was self defense.”
“I never meant to hurt you, I never wanted to hit you, I swear!” Draco rambled, suppressing tears. The more he lived with this disease, the more emotional he became.
Harry shushed him, leading him back to their spot upon his bed. “It’s okay, Draco. Take a moment to breathe before you pass out.”
And Draco did. He took as many deep breaths as he could till he had finally calmed down.
When his heart rate had dropped back to normal, he frowned. “I should probably get going now.”
“No, stay. I’d love to spend some time with you,” Harry begged with his eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes Draco just couldn’t say no to. So he stayed.
Draco felt a flower bloom on his upper back. God damn it.