Being whole again

Draco awakes with a huge gasp when he felt a sudden weight on his stomach. For a moment he didn’t remember where he was and he began to panic. Pulling himself up, he stared dumfounded into the yellow eyes of a fuzzy creature. Why was there a cat sitting on him, looking at him expectantly? Before he found an answer, the animal already came closer to his face, nestling up to his chest and pulling up to get closer to his face. After a few heartbeats, he felt himself relax a little bit, having understood there was no danger coming from this feline.

Draco’s body was thoroughly drenched, as he always awakes these days, if he even manages to sleep at all. He took in his surroundings. The walls were sky-blue with white moldings, giving a graceful but down-to-earth look which radiate a calm positivity. The few artworks on the walls showed contemporary illustrations in bright colors, which Draco had never seen before and were definitely Muggle. The sun shone through the slightly transcendent white curtains before big windows, the soft light reminding Draco of a gentleness of life he had only felt as a child. He finally remembered what happened yesterday.

Your reception of him had been warmer than everything he could have hoped for. You saw him as a human being, a friend even. Not the ex-Death Eater everyone else saw in him. The disgust and hate directed at him after the war was unbearable for him. Not that he couldn’t understand it, but being called out slur terms, being spat at and even beaten up a couple of times for simply being recognizable as a Malfoy with his blonde hair had been excruciating.

After pulling his sore bones out of the comfortable bed, he was unsure of where he was allowed in your house. Draco called out your name as soon as he exited his room. But there was no reply and after some considerations he tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen he had been to yesterday. Approaching the table, he found a note in your writing. It said you had gone to work but left him a mushroom omelet for breakfast on the table.

Draco’s gaze fell on the omelet on the plate.

The last time he had any decent food – more than scrabs he found somewhere - for breakfast was at the Manor. Was with him. He shuddered.

His belly was rumbling but he couldn’t get himself to sit on the table to start eating. The idea of the domestic scene of eating something fancy as omelet for breakfast made his insides twist.

No, he didn’t deserve this.

Taking in your dining table of thick wood that fit perfectly with the maritime paining on the wall and the fresh white lilies on the baroque armoire, everything seemed too perfect, too quiet, too good.

It looked cozy, something that the Manor never did. No, the Manor has been always been reigned by darkness. The Dark Magic of his ancestors who build it swirling through the hallways. It was the perfect place for him. And the perfect place for the likes of his father to torture.

He couldn’t move. His breath got quicker.

He remembered the screams that would come up from the dungeons. Followed by the laughter of the Death Eaters. And the mess the victims left behind.

Bile came up his throat. He ran, trying to remember desperately where the bathroom was.

Only barely reaching it, he vomited his guts out.

Afterwards, he tried to rinse the distrusting sour taste out of his mouth. But when he looked up, a foul taste lingering in his mouth, two hollow eyes stared back at him. He took in the deep lines that lingered around his lips and his sunken cheeks. He didn’t recognize the stranger in the mirror. It couldn’t be him, this broken shameful being.

Feeling a tightness in his chest swelling, making it harder to breath. He escaped the mirror and stumbled to the hallway.

How could this be him? How had he fallen so far?

But he knew the answers to that, didn’t he?

It was all his fault. Yes, his parents expected it of him. But he willingly took the Dark Mark. He willingly joined the manic psychopath. Following his orders.

His chest ached. He knew it was the deep slash the Dark Lord gave him when he had refused to torture that Muggle girl. Its Dark Magic never let it heal. Reminding him of what he had done. To the girl and many more after. He had never refused again.

He tried to escape these memories, but it didn’t work. Their darkness seems to pull him under water. To a dark place where breathing was impossible. Screams followed him there. The darkness seemed to swallow him whole.

Coming back from work, you found him crouched in the hallway with empty eyes staring into space.

“Oh shit, Draco. What’s happened?” Your voice heavy with concern.

He didn’t react. Face impossibly pale and his souls seemed to have left his body.

Shit, what should you do?

You sat down next to him, gently putting your arm around him. Your fingers went to his hair to slowly caress it.

“Draco, it’s okay. You are safe.” You whispered.

After what felt like an eternity, his body came alive again. He didn’t look up but his head leaned in your touch. “The things I had to do. You will never forgive me.” The sadness in his voice almost brought you to tears.

“I know you are a good person, Draco.”

He wouldn’t have it. “I’m not. I hurt people.”

“Draco, you were a child. I know you never wanted this. Your parents forced you into this. The rise of the Dark Lord is not your fault.” You knew he needed your comfort right now.

“Still, I should have tried something to save them.” His eyes became teary.

No, you wouldn’t let the memory of the Dark Lord take Draco away again. He didn’t deserve this. “Let me ask you this: Did you kill anybody?”

“No, but I hurt them. And I didn’t prevent the others from killing them.” His voice cracked.

You gulped. “Did you like hurting them?”

“No, but …”

“No, ‘but’. You were forced to. You were just as much a victim of the Dark Lord as them.” You stood up. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat. I saw you didn’t touch your breakfast.”

And with that Draco let himself be slowly pulled up.

The rest of the evening went quiet. You cooked some dinner, a vegetable stew which you served with red wine. Draco had insisted on helping. It was a calm and almost intimate affair, cutting the vegetables in silent harmony while listening to Jazz as the night fell in.

Sometimes you stopped to watch him. His shiny blond hair, finally washed again and his bony figure with too short trousers only reaching his ankles and only barely held up by a belt. And the barely healed scratches on his neck and continuing underneath his shirt. You still couldn’t believe he made it out of there. You silently thanked Merlin and vowed to yourself that you would make sure he would be alright. He had suffered enough.

You ate in silence and afterwards, as he was standing lost in the kitchen after you told him not to worry about the dirty dishes and spelled them clean, you had suggested watching TV. According to his puzzled look as a response, he was not familiar with the Muggle device or its contents, but he didn’t mind sitting down on the couch as you went through the program to decide what to watch. Having settled on one of your comfort movies form the 90s, non-violent as not to trigger Draco, you both enjoyed sitting together in this comfortable way.

You felt his body relax after a while; he could finally let go. When he seemed more relaxed, you slowly shifted closer to him. You didn’t want to overburden him, but you thought you both could need the comfort of physical touch. When he didn’t move away, you put your head on his shoulder. You noticed his eyes on you and gave him a small smile. Was your heart beating faster? Would he be okay? Maybe you should pull back…

But before you could do so, his mouth slowly turned up and he expanded his arm to hold you. You took in his warmth, the beat of his heart and his unique smell as you sank into his half-embrace. It had been ages, since you let anyone this close. Years even. You had almost forgotten how comforting touching, cuddling could be. And according to Draco’s relaxed state he felt the same.

That was how Draco Malfoy had come to live with you.

For your relationship with him - Well, let’s just say things weren’t that clear.

You two got on fine, but he was still clearly struggling with his past. He took on most of the household work. You had protested at first, since you had your wand and he didn’t it would take him much longer, but he has explained it calms him. Still, he didn’t talk much, spend the days reading or staring out of the window.

You knew he needed better help than what you could give him but he didn’t want to risk being recognized.

Afterall, he was on the lam. Therefore, you never talked to anyone about him and he barely left the house. Only when you glamoured him. And he still had no wand – there was no way to get him one. Besides, when you mentioned he could use yours if he needed, he immediately froze up. After a few seconds of heavy breathing he excused himself.

Later, he told you that he didn’t want to have magic anymore. Not after what he had used it for in the past. Your heart clenched but you knew there was no point arguing him, so you let it go.

Most of the nights Draco wasn’t sleeping at all. Nightmares would keep him awake. Every night you awoke at least once, from his thrashing or screams. You already had come to expect it. When he awakes screaming, he often doesn’t remember where he is. Fears he is still in the dungeons with the Dark Lord waiting to torture him.

Afterwards, he would profoundly apologize for waking you. But even though you assured him you didn’t mind, you could feel it still bothering him. He mostly went down to the kitchen or sat on the small porch in the backyard afterwards, not wanting to disturb you.

After a few days seeing him like that, the bags under his eyes growing bigger and him growing more and more lethargic, you knew you needed to do something to help him.

The next night you woke up, you decided to go to him. Usually, you would respect his privacy but this time you found yourself knocking at his door.

“Y/N? Sorry if I woke you, it won’t happen again.”

“Can I come in?”

After a short silence, he agreed in a small voice. “Sure”

He was sitting upright on the large bed, wearing a white shirt. His hair was sticking up to all sides, a vast difference to his usually neat appearance. You would have almost found it adorable, if it wasn’t for the tired eyes staring back at you.

“Another nightmare?” You asked as you sat next to him on his bed. He nodded his head slowly, his eyes not meeting yours. “Sorry, if I woke you.”

You signed. “Draco, please don’t worry about that. But I was thinking, do you think it would help if you weren’t alone?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I stayed here, with you.”

“I don’t know…”

“How about we try?” And you laid down, pulling his blanket over yourself and smiled at him softly as his eyes followed you. You reached one arm out to touch his hand. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly and he shifted to make you space as he laid down as well. You turned your body, your face right next to his. “Let’s just try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll leave. And don’t worry about waking me.”

His grey eyes were the softest you had ever seen, staring at you with a strange affection.

“Okay.” His voice barely audible.

At that, you let your head sink down and pulled him closer. “Sleep well, Draco.”

When you woke to go to work, you were up entangled in his arms. He was fast asleep as you tried to pry yourself from his grip. And so you had figured out that he got a few hours of good sleep if you keep him company.

The next day at dinner, while eating a fantastic couscous salad Draco had cooked, you started your approach.

“So, I was thinking…” As you started speaking, he stopped eating and his eyes widened, looking petrified at you. “Oh, Draco, don’t worry, its nothing bad.” You felt you needed to reassure him. Which only partly worked. He coughed a few times but otherwise stayed silent. His eyes guarded.

Shit, you should have started this different. “How was last night for you?”

“I slept better than I did in ages.”

“Yes, so I was thinking, we could keep this arrangement. But in my bed this time. It’s bigger.” You scooped yourself some more of the couscous on your plate.

“I… Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because … Because I am a Death Eater. Because I’m not a good person. I don’t …”

“Stop this Draco. Do you mind sleeping in the same bed with me?”

“No, of course not.”

“And can you sleep better this way?”

“Yes.”

“That’s settled then.”

This is how you began sleeping next to another in your bed, two lonely people cuddled against each other against the dark of the night. Mostly he would hold you tight against his chest and put his legs between yours. Or you would wake with him curled up on your shoulder.

But what had started as mutual comfort had soon began to grow into something more.

The first night it happened, you had awoken on top of him, panting heavily and aroused. As you opened your eyes, and two almost black orbs stared back at you and his hard lengths pressed against your belly, you knew you weren’t alone with this feeling.

“I’m…” he croaked, his voice heavy with sleep an something else. You felt him pull away. But you didn’t let go.

Instead you whispered. “Please. Please, Draco.” And rolled your hips against his.

He moaned. You nipped at his neck, eliciting more moans from the man underneath you. “Y/N, fuck.”

He shifted to look into your eyes. Lust-filled and vulnerable eyes stared at you. You kissed his mouth.

You knew he wanted you. And he must have seen the same in your eyes, because he let his body take over him. As he rolled you over and you slid down your pants only so he would have access, your eyes never parted. No words were said, the intimate connection between your familiar bodies was enough. He pulled himself out of his pants and his hard length experimentally pushed a few times against your clit.

You whimpered. But he had stopped. You drew your face back to look at two unsure eyes. “Please, Draco.” You thrust against him and he finally slid into you.

The sex between you was rather uncoordinated but in the end it felt like coming home from a long trip. Your last thought before you drifted asleep was how for first time since your parents death you were able to feel close to somebody again.

Afterwards, you didn’t talked about it. But you felt a release and a new comfort afterwards and you know you weren’t alone with this. His walk was lighter and he now seeked you out by himself, finding comfort in your shared evenings.

It happened again the next day, this time your bodies used to another and moving in sync. The kisses shared were heated and soft, sometimes you felt his lips for the whole day afterwards like a lingering reminder.

However, it wasn’t like you were really together.

Well, you told your colleagues you had a boyfriend when they had tried to set you up with Jerry, the timid and tall accountant from level 7.  

And, of course, you lived together, ate together and slept together. But somehow, even though your feelings ran deep for Draco, you knew there was some invisible and unmovable barrier between you. Somewhere between Draco’s lingering trauma that constantly made him withdraw, made him suffer, made him hate himself. And your feeling of being lost, the loneliness and feeling of not belonging here, was a painful wedge between you both.

Draco barely talked about the war and you did not press it. Some days he did not talk at all, and you ignored it.

You knew your love couldn’t heal him. And the demons that haunted you were somehow even more damaging to your relationship. Some weeks, you would work so much you barely saw the daylight, barely slept, barely ate. These days, Draco had to remind you to consume food. It was not only your enthusiasm for your work that fueled your workaholism. The pain of losing your parents, being all alone in this world, the pain of feeling like an outsider as you first did in Ilvermorny and the fact that you did feel like a coward for not fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts, they all convulsed to a ugly and fat mess in your chest. You felt like you had to prove to the world that you were no coward. You needed to show them how wrong they were.

It was clear to both of you that it was unhealthy what you were having. You and Draco were being constantly haunted by the tragedies of the past and sometimes, on the grey and rainy days, you feared that the scars went too deep to ever heal. But still, both trapped inside your miseries, you found warmth and comfort in each other.