hogwartsexpressed | Nightmares & Revelations (CLOSED

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Nightmares & Revelations (CLOSED - for Hermione & Draco)

A lot had changed since the end of the war. Harry hadn't gone back to Ginny as so many had assumed and they were both okay with that. More than okay, if he was honest. The only one who hadn't taken it so well... okay, the only two people who hadn't taken it so well were Molly and Ron. To them, they were supposed to be this giant happy Weasley family and well, Hermione and he had other aspirations.

After those months in the tent, after Ron had left them, Hermione and he had discussed their hopes, their dreams, their fears and even shared each other's beds. After the war, they hadn't let themselves or each other simply settle for the Ministry or to just get married and start having a family. They wanted and needed something bigger, where they could do more to the benefit of their society.

He had of course told Ron that nothing happened and to this day, he wasn't sure why he had insisted that nothing happened - maybe to make everyone else happy? But after it was all said and done, he knew how pointless that had been. Not only had their society changed but they had changed.

Hogwarts would always be his first home but neither of them felt ready to return to the scene of the war. Perhaps that was putting it nicely. They were done with the manipulations from Dumbledore and knew Hogwarts would only bring up bad thoughts and memories for the both of them. Instead, they had been approached by the International Confederation of Wizards to join their next recruiting class. It would be hard work, they were told, but they were used to that. After Hermione found her parents and returned their memories, they accepted the position and headed to Rome, much to Ron's disappointment and dismay.

They'd went in on a three bedroom flat of a wizarding world apartment complex, it wasn't as if Harry was hurting for money after the will reading of Sirius and his parents (whose had been buried intentionally by Dumbledore) and taking up his lordship. They had assumed they would use the other room for an office but when they met their fellow recruits, they realized there was likely another reason for it. They hadn't been the only ones from Britain to be approached by the ICW, imagine their surprise when Draco Malfoy had shown up that first day. Not only that, but in their training exercises, the three of them had been paired up a number of times and surprisingly (and unsurprisingly) enough... they worked really well together. It didn't take Hermione and him long to approach Draco about moving into the third bedroom.

The more surprising part was that he'd accepted.

It had been just over five months since Draco had moved in with them and he could honestly say they were starting to make headway.

It was just Harry's luck that the night Hermione was out of town working on assignment was the night he had his first nightmare since before they came to Rome. It was as it always was - Sirius' death, Voldemort's annoying monstrous face and Dumbledore's ever present manipulations - losing everything he loved and cared for. What he didn't know was that he was screaming, tossing and turning in his bed and his magic getting a little bit (a lot) out of control. Normally, Hermione was home and would be alerted the moment his magic got loose or that he was having a nightmare. But tonight, he was on his own. Or he might've been had the silencing spells on his room not broken on the onslaught of his magic, alerting Draco to the situation at hand.

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"It's always been one of my best weapons," he says, smoothing a hand over his hair and giving Harry a smoldering look that is one part amusing and most certainly meant to be intoxicating at the same time. He knows he's good looking, and now he knows that Potter has always been aware of that. How can he not use it to his advantage now?

Checking on the scones, Draco moves to get a mug before turning to face Harry. He gives him the most innocent of smiles, eyes wide, looking as positively bright and youthful as he can manage. "What have I ever said that made you think I have never had dreams about you? I mean, we've known each other nearly a decade, haven't we? I've seen you in all manners of dress and undress, and wet even," he says, his gaze raking over Harry slowly, teasingly, taking his time before he reaches past him for the pot to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Well then good. Maybe then I'll tell her about the dreams I've had about her. Even after she broke my nose," he says, cupping the mug in both hands. "Made me scared of her but then that's kind of sexy too," he admits.

Harry wasn't at all surprised to learn that Draco used it to his best advantage. After all, it was a very Slytherin thing to do, if you asked him. His mouth curled up into an amused smirk but couldn't deny that it was down right attractive. But, if he were honest, Harry simply thought Draco was attractive in general and had for a long time. "Oh everyone is aware of that fact. Part of our training class is well aware," he teased him.

He knew he had grown more attractive over the years but that was due to finally getting his body right after the years of abuse from the Dursley's and getting his eye sight fixed. It had taken some work (and the war) but with the training, he was seeing some vast improvement. "Now who's the tease," he asked with a roguish grin, leaning back against the counter and watched Draco look him over. He took a moment to slowly take in all of Draco's features and hummed. He was pleased to know that Draco had dreams of him, if his words were anything to go by.

"That's part of her charm," he chuckled. "She's beautiful when she gets riled up." Hermione was due back later that morning (once the sun was actually up), so long as everything went according to plan. He could only imagine she may be pleased to know about this midnight conversation. Maybe not the reason for said midnight conversation but to find out that Draco was attracted to both of them just as they were attracted to him. But it was too soon for any sort of deep conversation about that.

He knew he owed Draco some kind of answer or explanation about this... but he wasn't sure where to even start. The teasing and the flirting were easier subjects to handle... deep conversation at one in the morning was less so.

When you're of Veela descent, born into a pureblood family of wizarding "royalty" and then raised Slytherin to boot, you learn quickly that being pale and fae and delicate is an advantage. One he's used in Hogwarts, and beyond it as well. And one that, at least for fun, he isn't above using on Harry now either.

He glances at Harry, arching a brow. "Are you talking about me and that beautiful wizard from Bulgaria that were caught in the broom closet? I can't help that dark, brooding thing was delightful."

Or that Draco had used open flirtations and that veela beauty to lure him into a trap during training either. It's that teasing that had led to closet, but then his commander had taken him out of training. Draco had been congratulated on luring him in and it's when he realized the world around him wanted him to use his beauty as a weapon as well.

"Teasing is my second best weapon," he points out, grinning then as he got his coffee ready, turning to face Harry and leaning back, mirroring him, watching him.

He laughs though about Hermione. "That is the truth, isn't it?" He smirks. "You know, we should not tell her about this and then just start making out in front of her. Just to see her face."

And there he goes using his beauty and sexuality as a weapon, of sorts.

At the ICW, one thing you were taught early on was to use every skill at your disposal to get your mark or complete a job. For Draco, his allure and flirtation was simply part of who he was and could be used to his full advantage whenever he wanted. It wasn't the allure that drew Harry to him, it was something else all together. But he wouldn't deny that the man was bloody attractive. He chuckled at the response and allowed himself an amused grin. "Word has it even he couldn't be completely upset after taken out - he'd known better."

Harry brought the mug up to his mouth to take a sip of the coffee. It seemed shallow almost that beauty and appeal could be used as a weapon but humans (wizards and muggles alike) had always used beauty as a weapon for centuries. Although Harry didn't have Draco's veela blood and beauty, he did the same - used his attractive features to his advantage when it suited him.

He chuckled and hummed at the thought. There was no doubt he really wanted to make out with Draco. But he respected Hermione and simply wouldn't do that to her. They were connected more than they'd ever let on to anyone before. "Oh she'll know," he said with an amused smirk. "She always seems to know when something happens. Besides. She'll want in on the action."

He tilted his head. "So, be honest - how interested are you in perhaps joining us?"

"How could he be? Trust me. I'm more than just a pretty face." Though that's alluding to other, physical charms as well. It's not as if he's spent any time since puberty alone, and without companions if he'd wanted them. It's just that he hasn't been with two that he's considered spending time with, and both of them live in this house.

One thing Draco has learned though in the wizarding world is that there is much more to magic and life than his wizarding skills. Working for the ICW, that means using all of them that he can, and all that he can use against dark wizards and those that help them is important.

Draco laughs at that. "Why am I not surprised? Brightest witch of her age is an understatement and most haven't done anything to try and strip that title from her.

Draco falls quiet for a moment, considering that question. He sips his coffee, watching Potter as he does. "I guess it would depend on what you both have in mind. Joining you in bed? More than that? Just when we're all together, or exploring more than sexual. I suppose it depends on what you both have in mind."

"You're definitely more than just a pretty face," Harry agreed, meaning even more than physical and beauty. Having gone to school together and been each other's throats as often as they were, the man was intelligent (even with Harry's 'good word', the ICW would have made sure Draco could handle it) and sharp.

Harry sat down his coffee mug and took down a water glass before filling it. He sent Draco an amused look before taking a long drink of his water then setting that one down next to the mug. "She won't say it but she does enjoy the title," he said with a chuckle. "No one has come close to her brilliance at least in recent years."

He tilted his head and watched Draco closely, taking in the little tells that the Slytherin let slip. "In bed, out of bed...," he said after a moment. "It's a conversation we'd have to wait to fully have with Hermione but we're interested in exploring a relationship that's more than simply sexual. Wouldn't have to rush into it of course..."

"You would know," he says, because all of those years of being at one another's throat meant they had watched each other closely and learned a lot. It's all of that which brought them to where they are now, he's certain of that. Just as he had learned so much of Harry during that time. It benefited them both in the long run. Being here, in this apartment and in the life he's in, he believes that.

Laughing though when he says that about Hermione. "No one has touched her ability since we were at Hogwarts. I don't think anyone has since..." He stops, looking down and then up. "Well, to hear others tell it, not since your mother. And not just witches either, but I think they look at wizards differently," he says, nose wrinkling a bit.

He's spent a lot of time focusing on all of the changes he's seen, and the things that hadn't changed that so many ignored.

Draco falls silent then, considering what Harry is telling him. He snorts softly before taking a sip. "I... I honestly didn't expect that." He's used to being a pretty face, even if he's sure his roommates know more of him than that. He still didn't expect it. "You're right, we should discuss that with Hermione as well."

Harry chuckled and nodded. After spending several years in school together and now living in close quarters, there had been no other choice but to really pay attention to the other man. It was likely what made them so successful in training. He and Hermione hardly even needed to talk to know what the other was thinking, it was surprising (in a good way) how Draco fit into that. There were times that he was sure the other man was in his head.

He felt himself grin and nodded. "The Potter men love 'em smart," he said before picking up his coffee again and taking a sip. Harry hated that the only real memory he had of his mother had been from that final night. Of course, he had spoken with her right before he'd gone to his death but... it wasn't the same. It was something he was working through with a mind healer that he saw (both on his own prerogative and per the ICW). Some days were easier than others.

"They definitely do," he said, shaking his head. It was just one of the things that irritated him about this society that he'd found himself in. But compared to many other inequalities of their world, it was a small one.

Harry watched Draco closely and allowed himself a small smile. "You are definitely more than a pretty face, Draco," he said, seriously. "And both of us know that. We'll talk about it more once she gets home and settled." At one time, he might've been a bit more... nervous or anxious about the conversation. He had found his confidence and made the decision that the press was either going to love him or hate him so why not speak his mind and be who he wanted to be. It was part of the reason why he didn't feel so upset by letting his friendship with Ron go.

It's been interesting seeing how easily they clicked. In the field, things were seamless, and they found themselves truly working well together. So much so that it left Draco often wondering how things would be if they hadn't been enemies since day one. How different so much could be.

But now they have an entirely different chance to learn what chances there were for them and what they can do. Together.

"So that led you to me how?" It's one of the few times he would speak that way of himself and he wants so much to put Harry off his game, just to see the look on his face.

"When she gets home. Though, are you two more connected than just lovers and dating? I only ask because..." He moves past Harry to the front window. He shifts to open it, just as an owl comes swooping in.

"I have acute hearing for owl wings," he says with a shrug as the owl alights on the counter, an envelope in it's beak addressed to Harry.

There were many regrets Harry had over the years and not taking Draco's friendship that day was one of them. It was something he and Hermione had discussed at a time or two during the years. Especially when they realized how flakey Ron was as a friend. So much would have changed in the course of their lives but he supposed they were here now and that's what mattered.

"What do you mean," he asked with an arched eyebrow. "That you're brilliant, beautiful and magically talented?" He didn't quite follow Draco's train of thought but as far as they were concerned, Draco had become a much different person than he'd been as a child. They all were, honestly. They'd grown into their own, which was only to be expected after the war they had waged on either side.

"To be frank, neither of us had expected this connection to you at the start. When we saw your face in the Manor and you didn't give us away... I could see how the experience had changed you. We knew... if we all got out of it alive that just like we did... you probably needed a fresh start." It was more than he had expected to share with the man.

He turned toward the window, feeling the ping of the wards as the owl went through them and chuckled. "And I'm tied to the wards," he admitted with a wry smile, nodding at the owl who sat down on the counter. He moved over and took the envelope from it and shook his head with a smile at her handwriting on the envelope. "It's a good question - how connected we are - and it's something that we're... still trying to sort out," he admitted. Harry opened up the envelope and pulled out the parchment to read over the note. "We're not sure when it happened or how deep it runs."

Draco shakes his head before taking a sip of his tea. Pausing to consider all of it, eyes bright as he shrugs. "Being a smart arse about the boy I was. Who wasn't at all bright," he says, though in truth it was less about his intelligence and more about a corner his family had painted him into. He had been brilliant, but he had been a pawn as well.

But then both of them had, and they're still working through that and trying to figure it out between them.

"I... There's a lot of things I had no choice but to do and fighting it could have gotten very bad. When I had a choice in it, I did what I could. Like ensuring you didn't use the cloak to follow the others from the train and have them realize you were there. They set wards the entire path and they would have found you,' he says. He had been cruel about it but he'd also been protecting Harry in the long run.

"And Hermione is as well," he says with a nod, explaining the note's appearance.

I felt the nightmare, and I'm worried for you. Did the wards hold? Are you all right?

I'll be home as soon as I can, by tea time tomorrow at the latest. If you need me, send the owl back immediately and I'll take the chances of leaving early.

- Hermione.

Harry watched Draco's expression with a tilted head. "We all had a part to play, didn't we," he asked with a slight quirk of his mouth. "For better or for worse." In the thick of it, he hadn't considered Draco had been a pawn just as much as Harry himself had been. Just because it wasn't as noticeable didn't mean it wasn't true.

He nodded in understanding. At first, it had infuriated him but he had always had some kind of short temper when it came to shit like that. "You know, I never did thank you for that," he said with a wry look. "Thank you... for all that you did to help us ultimately in the war. Even if it was a pain in the ass at the time."

It was true. Hermione was tied just as much to the wards as he had been and that explained a small part of it. However, it was much more than that. It happened before then. He smiled at the note and looked at the owl. "I'm going to write a response but you don't have to rush back, ok? I would hate to have her rush home immediately."

Though if he were honest, he absolutely missed her.

I'm okay. The flat wards held but my room wards were shredded to bits - my magic woke Draco and he woke me up.

You don't have to rush back immediately, I'll be fine. We're looking forward to having you back home.

-Harry

Draco hadn't realized it as well, not for years. Not until he was marked to be a killer. It was bad enough that he had been used to further such a sick agenda as to believer being pureblood is more important than just existing.

Now though he's learned and he's working to make things better. He's also working to better the world they live in for himself. He wants things better. He wants to fix all he's done wrong over the years. And in the time living with the others, with Harry and Hermione, he's come to want so much more. Personal things he had written off after leaving those he'd known behind.

"Thank you for waging that war, Harry. If you hadn't..." He can only imagine the world they would be living in now. No, he doesn't want to imagine that world. Not in the least.

He watches as Harry writes the letter, stroking the owl's head tenderly, smiling as it nipped at his finger and he slipped it a bit of biscuit.

Harry and Hermione could have worked their way up in the Ministry back home after the war - especially considering Kingsley had practically offered a position on the spot. But they didn't want to simply stop with the Ministry. They did decent work but not at the level that Harry wanted or felt he could stand by. The ICW allowed them to go into a number of fields, receive any masteries they wanted and pursue a larger purpose. At one point in his life, he thought he'd go into something different. Quidditch, professor... after having those long talks in the tent during those days, he realized that he simply couldn't let the injustices continue to happen. He knew how the British Ministry worked and many of their laws and ideals were still stuck in the dark ages. At least with the ICW and many other World governments, they were coming around to a more modern take on the world and not being afraid to even use some muggle technology where it made sense.

Despite the nightmares that evening, he was pleased with how the evening turned out. Draco was aware of how they felt and that they would be open to having him join them. It was something Hermione would be surprised and perhaps pleased to find out later that morning. They'd not discussed it prior to Draco Malfoy reentering their lives but once he moved in... it hadn't left their minds. Or at the very least, it hadn't left Harry's.

Many people had thanked him over the years (numerous times) with offers left right and center as thanks for ending the war. But it still felt odd to take it. He supposed it hadn't been nearly a year since Voldemorts fall. He nodded at Draco's thanks. "I'd have been damned if I let him rule this world..." he said, attempting to play it off. He paused and exhaled. "There are nights, like tonight, that I wake up anticipating being back in that tent, still in the middle of the war," he admitted, looking anywhere but at Draco. "It's hard sometimes." Which was rather an understatement, honestly.

Harry smiled and finished the note then gave it to the owl, stroking the owl's head gently. "Take it back to Hermione, please."

Edited 2020-04-11 04:24 (UTC)

Going from being on the run, to being able to settle back into their home had been mindblowing for Draco. He had gratefully, and without many questions, accepted the appointment from the ICW. He'd only had one question.

Would they pardon and forgive Narcissa.

When they had, he had said good bye to her after warding their ancestral home against his father in case he was freed, and went to training.

Now he's here. Living in a home with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and he's respected. By his coworkers. By the ministry. Sure some look at him sideways, waiting for him to turn, but he knows he won't ever turn back to the Death Eaters that remain, and is rather proud to have been deemed a traitor by those that had stood by his father.

He nods though when Harry talks about how hard it can be. "I can understand that. I dream a lot that I'm back on the Tower, or still running with my mother. Just know you're not in this alone. Kind of twice over now."

No matter what happens, he's there for Harry. For them both.

Moving to the window, he lets the owl out and closes the window behind it. He's still not always certain about those that might come for him, that they still haven't found.

Harry lifted his gaze to meet Draco's, thankful for that. He knew Hermione understood obviously - she'd been there the entire time. But to hear that Draco also understood from his own mouth... he exhaled again and nodded. "I know there are a lot of people out there still recovering and grieving but... it also feels like so many went back to normal. Went back to their old lives as though nothing had happened. They're back to their petty grudges..." It was as though the war meant nothing to some of them. But... he supposed he also fought for people to return to their normal lives.

He watched the owl fly away and smiled a little at just the thought of Hermione sending him an owl in the middle of the night. He hated that she'd felt it though, he hated disrupting anyone's sleep. It was one thing his sleep was shit, no one else's should be.

"I need to research better and stronger wards for my room," he said, shaking his head. "They haven't been broken quite like that in a while."

"Even those that were involved in it in many ways. Those that might not have worn the mask of a death eater, but you and I both know their families were involved. The only ones that didn't return to their lives either fought at that school or were are now in prison."

He holds so much disdain for those that pretended it never happened and did nothing to fight Voldemort and just went back to his life. He'd had no choice in it but, in the end, he'd been made to be part of it. He couldn't just go back to his life. Even if he had wanted to, he couldn't.

"So you can suffer them alone? Is that the plan?"

"Exactly," Harry said, looking at him. He felt... almost guilty that he was upset that so many people could pretend that the war never happened. He knew that was the PTSD talking and his own way to grieve. It will never truly ever go away. He'd likely always be somewhat... too paranoid and ward any home he had to the inch of its capacity. But, he was told, it would eventually bother him less. "Fuck, I know that logically... that the result of the war was so that people like them could live normally. But it also pisses me off that they can pretend that nothing happened..." He didn't admit that to just anyone.

He tilted his head. "Just because my sleep is absolute shit doesn't mean anyone else's should be," he said, looking down at the coffee cup he held between his hands. "Waking up with Harry Potter's wild magic isn't what you signed on for..."

It's the one advantage of them being in a home together. They all suffer in varying ways from the trauma of the war. They know that and share it. They don't look at one another and expect them to just be over it. So many wanted to leave it in the past, and the three of them know it won't ever absolutely be over. Not for them. For things like this. Like the nightmares.

"I didn't sign up for being a child soldier in a war either, but that doesn't change I was. If you couldn't control them, and it was every night? I would still be here, Potter. Absolutely."

"Yeah... well, unlike that, this is optional. You don't have to live here if you don't want to," he said. He didn't want Draco to not feel safe or... want to be here. Harry blinked at the last part of his statement. "Truly?"

Other than Hermione, he didn't know anyone who would truly stick around something like that.

He was a bit surprised, honestly. But... also pleased to know that either way, Draco would stick around.

"No, it's not optional," Draco argues. "You are my friend, Potter, and I'm no abandoning you to deal with those yourself. How could I move out of here and pretend like I didn't know that was going on here?"

And that for him is a huge part of it. He couldn't know what he does now and just walk away. It wouldn't help either of them.

"I mean it. I'm here to be there with you, to help if I can."

Harry opened his mouth then closed it... a few times. Of course he considered Draco a friend (and potentially something more) but he hadn't truly let himself believe that it went the other way as well. He'd hoped, of course, but to hear Draco said that shocked him and admittedly a bit speechless.

After a minute he cleared his throat. "Thank you," he said. "That - really means a lot."

"Wow, so shocked,' he taunts with a smirk, shifting to move in closer, standing toe to toe with Harry. "Listen to me, Potter. We were enemies because of others, not ourselves. We were pawns, and now we know that. We can see the world clearly, and it means fixing the past and forging on, okay?"

Because for him, that is their past and this is their life.

It wasn't every day that Harry was shocked speechless - especially in recent years. So the fact that Draco made him speechless, without the use of a spell, was a feat to be sure. He narrowed his gaze at the taunting smirk but allowed himself a wry chuckle, watching as the man stood toe to toe with him. "There were times when I do wonder what would have happened had I taken your hand that day," he admitted, watching the blonde. "And despite it taking 7-8 years, I'm glad that we can be that." And more, obviously.

He snaked an arm out and brought the other man closer. He didn't want to go too far, not without Hermione being home. But... he wanted to feel the other man close to him. "I think we forgot the scones...," he murmured with a little smile.

"You would have ended up a pawn of the Dark Lord," he says, not doubting that in the least. "My father would have treated you like a second son, and then just handed you to him on a silver platter," he says, shoulders tightening then, his chin lifting. "You know, just like he did me."

And he believes that after what his father did to him, let them do to him, they would both be dead now.

Stepping in, sliding his hand over Harry's chest as he stares into his eyes. "And you think this is going to make me move and get them?" Smiling though as he rests his brow against Harry's. "I'm glad you didn't shake my hand then. I really am."

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