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Storm To Weather

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Draco blinked into the darkness of the room, utterly unaware of anything around him. It took him a few seconds, maybe even minutes, to actually come to his senses, before his body twitched in shock. He gasped, eyes wide open. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he felt like he was choking on air. His heart was beating like it was just about to jump off of his chest and a pure panic was taking all over him. He was scared. He was so scared he couldn’t even think straight. The room was drowned in dark, except of two thick candles in glass jars, placed across the room. Was he dead? He didn’t dare to tell. He didn’t dare to even breathe, because the heavy silence was creeping in and he could already feel drops of cold sweat gathering on his forehead. He had no idea how long he has been unconscious. Hours, days, weeks? He had no damn clue! He tried to sit up, yet the pain in his right hand stopped his actions immediately. He hissed in pain, as the ache spread through his body, making him fall helplessly back onto the pillow. He threw his head back, feeling the soft silk messing his sweaty hair. His hand, yeah, he sort of remembered that. The memories were slowly coming back as he thoughtlessly rubbed his injured arm.


There was an attack, out of nowhere. They all thought they were safe, they thought the mansion was protected. He didn’t even know the exact location himself. It was in the middle of nowhere, north Scotland, nothing but a heathland as far as you could see. An endless fog and a thunder storm every other day, Draco remembered how sick of that place he was. They spent there months, not talking much, just drinking the heavy archive wine from the cellar, basically all day long. Everyday was the same, he couldn’t really tell the difference. There were 12 of them, the noble Death Eaters, including his parents. His father kept assuring him it was just a progressive phase, but Draco never truly believed it. He wasn't stupid. He heard the news. About the Aurors, mercilessly revealing the Death Daters, dragging them out of their holes, forcing them to stand the proper trial. Draco thought everyone saw it coming, yet no one actually found the courage to talk about it. They knew they were next and it was almost sickening to be ready for the potential escape 24 hours a day. His parents always kept him close. At least one them was always near him, in case they needed to apparate quickly. Well, except the one time. It was around 10PM and he felt sick of his stomach, probably because of the thick wine his father has been serving him all day. It all happened too fast.

The Aurors appeared when he was leaving the bathroom and all he could see was smoke, sparks and red flames. He was pretty positive he heard his mother screaming his name, but before he could orientate, he was hit by a curse, not even able to pull out his wand. He simply wasn’t fast enough. He fell to the ground before someone rushed towards him, but Draco blacked out as the face came closer. The smoke was everywhere, it was all a huge messy chaos around him and there was literally nothing he could do. His eyes shut as the person grabbed his hand and most probably apparated them. He’s been unconscious since then.


He shivered, as he fully realised the despair of his situation. He was injured, he didn’t know where the hell he was or who brought him there. He was lying on his back in a dark, tears slowly running down his snow white face. As much as he wanted to panic inside, he knew he needed to stay calm at some point. He tried move his legs. He clearly wasn’t bound, which was a good sign at least. In Azkaban, they would surely put him in chains without asking questions. He felt lethargic, but tried his very best to move, to get out of the bed. He found out he was barefoot as his soft feet touched the carpeted floor, but he refused to think about the reasons just now. Scrunching his face in pain, he finally stood up, almost blindly heading towards the door. He cursed as he tripped over some chair in his way, which sent him down with a muffled scream. His pupils went wide as he heard quick steps on the stairs. He wanted to move, he wanted to do anything, but his body failed him, he was too weak. The footsteps were getting closer and his heart almost stopped beating. His hands were stone cold as he vainly reached behind him, searching for any reasonable object to use for his defense.

The door flew open and Draco thought he was dreaming as he spotted the familiar figure standing above him, clutching his wand. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple white shirt, hair messy and unruly as usual, couple days beard on his face. Harry was breathing heavily as he was looking down at the blonde boy. He lightened up the big chandelier as he stepped in, which only made Draco to think about how poorly and desperate he must have looked. His hair overgrown and damp with sweat, his face deadly pale, empty eyes and way too bony torso. He hasn’t been eating much lately, so his naturally slim body became almost ill looking and far from attractive. He noticed he had on some basic black long sleeve shirt and a pair of black sweatpants, which obviously didn’t belong to him. His right hand was neatly wrapped in a white bandage.

He didn’t know how long they’ve been just staring at each other, but Potter eventually breathed out, extending his hand towards Draco.

“Let me help you”.

“I don’t need your help you fucking twat”.

Which came out kind of pathetic, considering the fact the blonde was practically mopping the floor with his weak body.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed”.

Potter said flatly, picking the boy up with an ease, despite his struggling.

“Get your filthy hands off of me!”.

Draco hissed and it was pretty obvious the dark haired boy was holding himself back at his point.

“Don’t want you to hurt yourself, the arm is still quite bad”.

“How dare you to even touch me?!”

“You really need to calm down”.

“Get the hell away from me!”

Draco snapped, his whole body shaking like crazy. He was completely lost and confused and dangerously close to tears.

“Where the fuck am I? What...what is this?”

The blonde threw his healthy hand in the air, gesturing around the room. He was watching Harry who took a few steps from the crispy white bed and lightened up the fireplace by a simple wave of his wand. There was a kettle, herbal tea, by the smell of it.

“This is my house”.

Harry said calmly, looking into the flames instead of Draco.

“What? Are you fucking with me Potter? Is this some Aurors’ burrow or something?”


Harry said, finally turning around to face the other boy.

“It’s my house. The Grimmauld Place. Yes, it used to be the order’s headquarter, but not anymore. It’s just a regular home now”.

“What the fuck am I doing at your damn regular home? Which is by the way more of a my own house than yours”.

Harry put his wand on a small wooden table, before he poured some of the steaming tea into a white porcelain mug. He extended his hand with the liquid towards Draco.

“I have no doubts the house elfs will answer to you obediently. Here, drink this”.

“Tell why I am here Potter. What is your plan? Is this some kind of a sick joke before you send me to Azkaban?”

“If I wanted to send you to Azkaban, you’d see yourself there the day we broke into the mansion in Scotland”.

Draco swallowed thickly.

“It was you”.

Harry nodded.

“Me and 14 other Aurors”.

“Where...where are my parents?”

“I don’t know”.

“You’re lying”.

“I really don’t know, they apparated before we got to them. They’re most probably hiding somewhere new. As far as I know they haven’t been hurt”.

They blonde sighed in relief inside. At least his mother and father were safe. His thoughts were interrupted by Harry, who spoke up again.

“Everyone’s think you apparated with your parents eventually”.

Draco raised his eyebrow.


“No one knows you’re here. Aurors or the ministry. Just me”.

“What? Why? I…I don’t understand”.

The brunette ran his fingers through his messy hair, leaning against the warm wall of the fire place.

“I saw you lying on the floor, in front of the bathroom. You were bleeding, your arm was wounded, heavily. I was the first one who found you, it was smoke and sparks all around, everyone had full hands. I apparated us here. Instructed the elfs to stop the bleeding of your hand and got back to the mansion, alone. No one noticed I was gone, it was matter of a few minutes. They were still looking for you, knowing you were injured, yet in the end, settled for the fact your managed to escape along with your parents. You were unconscious for two days, mainly because of the pain killer potion, it was a strong one. But you needed it, you also needed to sleep”.

Draco was staring at him blankly, not able to process what he’s just heard.

“Why...why would you do that?”

Harry shrugged.

“The Ministry is raging. They are obsessed with revealing the Death Eaters, making them stand a public trial, seeking an exemplary punishment. They constantly balance on a very thin line of what’s the right thing to do and what’s the unnecessary humiliation, based on blind anger and intoxication of power. I saw you there, helpless on the floor…and I realised and I didn’t like the idea of you standing such a trial. I’ve been there, many times. I know well how much of a dirt could be dug on a person and at some point, no one cares how true or false those accusations are. They only want to see the person suffer before giving him a life sentence, which is basically the reason I brought you here. I didn’t want that for you”.

The brunette was talking so calmly it almost sounded like he was discussing a shopping list or something such as important.

“Are you completely mental Potter? Because only an absolute lunatic would put himself in such a risk for someone who he fucking hates. It makes no sense”.

Harry tilted his head.

“Trust me, it sounds crazy even for my ears. But what they planned for you, wasn’t right. It wasn’t right even for you, no matter how I think of you”.

The blonde shook his head.

“They’ll find me eventually, Potter, and both you and I are screwed”.

“The will not find you. Do you seriously think of a person who would dare to even suggest to search a house of someone who get them all through the war? Someone who's a head Auror?"

Draco smirked sadly.

“I beg my pardon. How silly of me, isn't it. Potter, the great Savior, the golden boy. Bet they already replaced that muggle thing with your statue at the Ministry building”.

Harry came closer, looking Draco right in his pale eyes.

“Thanks to my Savior status, this is the safest place in the world. Which in your position, I would consider as a good fucking news”.

He grabbed the mug from the nightstand, pressing in firmly into Draco’s palm.

“Now you drink this”.

“What is it?”

“Tea. With a healing potion for the arm”.

Draco crunched his nose at the smell, glancing at the other boy hesitatingly.

“Do you actually think I would bother to drag your ass here, stuff you with pain killing potions, just to poison you once you kindly decide to wake up?”

The blonde finally took a sip, looking down onto the white sheets.

“You took off my clothes?”

He asked after a long moment of silence.

“Well, I assumed this would be slightly more comfortable than lying in bed in your suit and tie”.

The blonde’s pale cheeks flushed pink. Harry could read in his face he was about to say something, yet he swallowed it in the end, rather taking another gulp of the liquid in his mug.

“Besides, the house elf did that. I didn’t see you naked or anything, if that’s what bothers you”.

He stood up, concealing all the lights except the fire place.

“You should get some sleep now. There are cookies and crisps in the first drawer of the night stand, but I could make you a sendwich or something if you want, you know, before breakfast in the morning”.

“That’s fine”.

“You must be hungry”.

“I said it’s fine, Potter”.

“Well then. I’ll see you in the morning”.

With that, he closed the door behind him. Draco fought back the urge to check if he locked it with a spell. But he was pretty positive he did.



*Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I'd love to know your thoughts and comments <3