wook77 | Voice in the Dark

The promised update...

Title: Voice in the Dark (2/?)
Pairing: Harry/Draco eventually
Rating: PG for one little swearword (will be R or even NC-17 in the future)
Summary: Harry's last sight was Draco Malfoy casting the killing curse. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.
Warnings: um, Angst for now. Future? Slash.
A/N: Thanks ever so much to everyone for suggesting titles for me. I loved all of them and decided on a combination of many of them. Any comments will be appreciated as they all help me to grow.

Missed Part one? Read it here.

“Hello?” Harry’s voice echoed in the room

“Anyone?” There was no response. Harry, as much as he searched with his ears, couldn’t find any sound to give away a presence in the room.

As Harry couldn’t see the sun moving along its path nor could he look at a clock, he had no idea how long he was left by himself. Boredom quickly set in as he had nothing to entertain himself. Eventually, just for something to do, he decided to sit up. That decision proved to be a poor one as the world spun around him and he barely caught the edge of the table next to the bed. His hand slid off the book balanced there and his body quickly followed.

The pain of landing on the floor shocked his system. Panting through the pain, he pushed himself up until he was resting on his forearms. He waited until the dizziness passed and then straightened a little more, so that his palms were still touching the floor but his arms were straight.

Just as he was sitting completely straight, a voice shouted his name and caused him to jump. When he jumped, the back of his head hit the bedside table and he knocked himself out once more.

This time, when he came to, there was no comforting drone of voice to lull him into wakefulness. The quiet in the room was almost visible and the thought made Harry chuckle. The chuckle quickly turned into a groan when the sound reverberated through his aching head.

“Harry?” Another groan erupted from within Harry.

“’Mione?” Harry whispered, hoping that the speaker would pick up on the hint and lower the volume of her voice.

“Yes, Harry, it’s ‘Mione. How are you feeling?” Thankfully, Hermione picked up on the hint and lowered her voice to a quiet whisper.

“Where are you?” Harry heard movement that moved from the foot of the bed near the head. A weight settled on the bed next to him.

“I’m right here.” A warm hand clasped his. “How are you feeling?”

“Like the Knight Bus rolled over me and Stan danced a jig on my remains. What happened?”

“I came in and you were on the floor. When I called out to you, you hit your head and went back out. What ever were you thinking?” The sentiment behind the question caused Hermione’s voice to rise. Harry flinched.

“I was bored. I just wanted to see if I was up to getting out of bed. I’m thirsty.” Hermione’s other hand went behind Harry’s head and lifted it slightly. Harry could feel the cool glass tap his lips. When he opened his mouth, the glass titled and water soothed Harry’s throat. After he drank his fill, Hermione pulled the glass away and let Harry’s head drop back down.

“Madame Pomfrey specifically told you not to get out of bed!”

“No one was here and you know me. I was bored.” Harry was mildly ashamed of the whinging tone that permeated the last statement.

“Why didn’t you call someone then?”

“With what, ‘Mione?”

“Honestly, Harry, with your voice, of course. You couldn’t have yelled for one of us?” Harry started to sit up in frustration.

“The door was closed!”

“The room is spelled so we can hear if you need one of us.” Hermione started to help Harry to finish sitting up. However, he batted her hands away.

“I can do it myself! I’m not a complete invalid! How the hell was I supposed to know that the room is spelled? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been out of it for a few weeks! I don’t even really know where I’m at! I have no idea what happened to me! I didn’t know if anyone was still alive!” Harry reached over to the bedside table. He proceeded to ravage the contents on top of it as his hand flopped and pushed and searched.

“What ever are you doing?” Hermione’s tone had lost its overridingly patient tone and simply sounded exasperated.

“I’m looking for my glasses!” Harry continued searching the table until he finally closed his hand on the glasses. With a small smile, he pulled them onto his face.

“Why would you be doing that?”

“My face feels funny without them on. They make me feel better, ok?!” Harry was getting progressively more and more upset with Hermione.

“You could have just asked! I would have gotten them for you.”

“I don’t want you to get them for me. I want to get them for myself. I’m perfectly capable of getting my glasses or holding a glass of water or whatever!”

“Fine, then!” Harry heard Hermione huff and just knew she was crossing her arms in front of her.

“Fine! You can uncross your arms, you know. You could also unwrinkle your forehead or you’ll get wrinkles before you’re thirty.” Harry heard a watery laugh escape Hermione’s lips. “Herm? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just… that is… you’re…”

“I’m blind?” There was a pause. A cut off sob answered him eventually. “Herm?”

“Yes! It’s just not fair!”

“Life’s not fair, we all know that. Come here.” Harry heard Hermione moving and then felt her resting her head against his chest. With what little strength he had, Harry wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t cry, for which he would be eternally grateful. “Better?”

“How is it that you’re the one that’s hurt and I’m the one getting comforted?” Hermione’s voice was a little shaky but sounded stronger.

“Because you’re the girl and I’m the big strong man.” Harry grunted when Hermione punched his shoulder. They both laughed until the laughter drifted off and the silence descended. The thickening silence was neither comfortable nor comfortable. It allowed for both of them to collect their thoughts.

“Herm, what happened?” The question startled Harry when he asked. His voice didn’t sound like it should have. It was small and needy. To Harry, he sounded scared.

“I don’t know, Harry. I’ve talked to everyone that was there. Well, I talked to everyone but Malfoy. He was always here, talking to you. He wouldn’t answer any questions about what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk about Malfoy right now. I just want to know what’s going on. I need to know what happened.” Harry lied to the both of them. He wanted to talk about Malfoy. There were so many questions about Malfoy but Harry was scared that, if he were to start asking, he wouldn’t stop.

“We were making our way across the battlefield when a group of Death Eaters Apparated right in front of us. Do you remember?” When Harry nodded, Hermione continued. “Another group came in behind us. When that happened, Remus and you turned around and started attacking them. Ron and I kept attacking the first group. There was a shout and then you collapsed beside me.”

“I saw Malfoy cast Avada Kedavra at me.”

“You’re wrong, Harry. He didn’t cast it at you.”

“I know what I saw, ‘Mione! I saw Malfoy cast Avada Kedavra at me!”

“Harry, he killed his father. Malfoy cast the killing curse at his father.” Harry’s face must have reflected his astonishment as Hermione hastened to explain. “According to Professor Snape, Malfoy was in the back group of Death Eaters. His father was in the first group. Mr. Malfoy was casting Avada Kedavra at you. Malfoy saw it happening and cast his own curse. Professor Snape says that Mr. Malfoy’s curse hit you as Draco’s curse hit his father.”

“So, Malfoy didn’t cast at me? He was protecting me?” The disbelief coupled with the dawning horror of exactly how wrongly he’d interpreted Malfoy’s actions caused Harry’s voice to quiet and shake.

“Yes, Harry.” Hermione was using what Harry called her “mothering voice” as she spoke to him. It was a soft and patronizing tone of voice that aggravated and comforted Harry. Hermione shifted so that she was no longer resting on Harry.

“I…but… he hates me, ‘Mione! Why would he do that?”

“Because, idiot, the rest of us peons have to protect you. You’re the only one that can kill Voldemort. You’re it and we’re stuck with you.” Malfoy’s sardonic and sneering voice echoed from across the room.

“You killed your father for me?” Harry’s voice was disbelieving. The bed shifted as Hermione moved off the bed.

“No, you egotistical prat, I didn’t kill my father for you. I killed a Death Eater for the Wizarding World. It just so happened to be Fate’s little trick on me that that Death Eater was my father.”

“But...why…I…that is…”

“Eloquent as always, Potter, why don’t you spare us all your sputterings and just spit out what you’re trying to say?” Draco’s voice sounded closer to Harry.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. If you are planning on apologizing, spare me. I neither want nor need your insincere sympathies. Granger, lay off already.”

“I’ll leave you two alone, then. Harry, I’ll bring you some lunch in a bit, shall I?” Harry nodded in the general direction of Hermione’s voice.

“I’m not being insincere, Voic...Malfoy. I saw what I saw. I’m sorry that I jumped to a conclusion.” Malfoy didn’t give a verbal response so Harry had no idea how he was reacting so Harry forged on. “You have to admit we have a lot of antagonism between us. We’ve always been enemies, right? I know we’ve been on the same side for a bit but it was too easy to remember the bad and not the good. Why did you stay with me?”

Harry finally received a response with his last statement. The non sequitor caused Malfoy to make a small noise.

“You’re the hero. We all have to cater to the hero.”

“According to Hermione, you didn’t leave, though. That isn’t catering to the hero.” Harry’s hand reached out, seeking physical confirmation of Draco’s location.

“Will you stop that infernal flopping about?” Draco’s voice sounded almost fond as he yelled at Harry.

“I will when I know where you’re at. I’m blind, remember?” Harry turned a teasing face towards where he thought Draco might be. He was happy that he was almost right when he felt Draco briefly grab his hand. “Stop changing the subject. I want to know why you stayed with me.”

“There wasn’t anyone else.”

“What about Hermione? Remus? Ron? Mrs. Weasley? The Twins? Madame Pomfrey? Ginny?” Draco’s voice interrupted Harry’s recitation of names.

“Everyone was busy.”

“That’s a lie and you know it. Why did you stay with me?” Harry’s hand drifted back over to Draco. It rested softly on Draco’s knee.

“Why did you call me ‘Voice’?” Draco shot back at Harry.

“I didn’t know it was you. Your voice soothed me. It kept me here. Why did you stay?”

“I told you, we’re all here to cater to the hero. You wanted my voice so I was told to stay here. It’s as simple as that.” Harry felt a shot of pain and disappointment ricochet through him.

“That’s the only reason?” The disappointment in his voice betrayed Harry’s feelings. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed and he didn’t want to know.

“Did you want another reason?” Harry couldn’t hear any emotion in Draco’s voice.

“I guess not, no. I wanted to know.” Harry turned away from Draco.

“Are you pouting?” Draco’s voice baited Harry.

“Of course not!” Harry felt his ire rising a bit at the implication. He was pouting but he didn’t know why and worse, he didn’t want Malfoy to think he was.

“Potter, you stink.” With an effort, Harry rolled back over to face where he assumed Malfoy still was.

“I’m so sorry to offend your gentle sensibilities, Malfoy. I have no excuse other than the fact that I just woke up from a coma!” Harry sat up abruptly. The world swam for a bit but then the dizziness passed.

“That is no excuse for not taking care of one’s grooming needs.” Harry growled as Malfoy continued to rant about his smell. “Perhaps if you had been raised with parents instead of fawning sycophants…OOF!”

Harry launched himself out of the bed and towards Draco’s condescending voice. Luckily for him, he landed on his intended target. His unacknowledged relief faded when the chair that Draco was sitting in tilted backwards, sending both of the men to sprawl on the floor. With another growl, Harry tried to punch Draco in the face.

“I’ll give you fawning sycophants, you conceited bastard!” Harry winced as his hand hit the carpeted floor.

“I never knew blindness could be so entertaining! Ouch, you ass! That was my cheek! I’m going to have a, for fuck’s sake, Potter, learn to aim!” Draco grabbed Harry’s fists and pushed him off.

“What in the name of Merlin is going on in here?!” Madame Pomfrey’s voice stopped the combatants as she yelled. “Mr. Potter, get back in that bed! Mr. Malfoy, I expected better from you. Really, now, you two!”

Harry was panting in exertion from trying to pound the daylights out of Malfoy.

“He started it!” Malfoy’s voice sounded petulant.

“What are you, five years old, Malfoy?” Harry’s voice changed to a snide falsetto imitation of Draco’s voice. “He started it!”

“Grow up, Potter!”

“You grow up, Malfoy!” As Harry turned towards Malfoy to try to hit him again, Harry felt hands grab his shoulders.

“Stop, at once. Both of you boys need to grow up. You,” Harry felt the hands shake him. “get back in that bed. You, right the chair and sit.” When the boys didn’t move fast enough, Madame Pomfrey’s voice changed to an even sterner version. “Now!”

Harry scrambled to stand up but he was too close to the bedside table. Once again, he hit his head. “Ouch! This is all your fault, Malfoy!”

“Now who’s the immature one, Potter?”

“You both are! Mr. Potter, let me assist you.” Madame Pomfrey’s hands slipped under Harry’s shoulders. With a little force, she started to guide him up.

“No, I can do it myself! I’m not handicapped!” Harry shrugged Madame Pomfrey off. A shimmy took him back away from the table and he stood up. His hand tapped through the air until he felt the bed. With a sigh, he sat down.

“Who would care to explain just what that altercation was about?” Both boys stayed silent. “I’m waiting.” Harry could almost hear Madame Pomfrey crossing her arms and tapping her foot. He smiled at the mental picture. “Just what is so amusing, Mr. Potter?”

“Nothing, Madame Pomfrey.” Draco snorted. Harry’s grin increased.

“Then perhaps you’d care to explain just what I walked in on?”

“Malfoy told me I stank so he was helping me to the bathroom. I stumbled and fell onto him. I may have hit him with my fist as I fell.” Harry could hear Draco coughing to hide his laughter.

“I’m supposed to believe that you accidentally fell on Mr. Malfoy and then accidentally punched him?” The incredulity in Madame Pomfrey’s voice was readily apparent.

“Err, yeah?” Harry tried to plaster an innocent expression on his face. Draco once more coughed to hide his laughter.

“Then why were you yelling at each other?”

“Um, well, Dra…err, Malfoy got mad when I accidentally punched him. He was, err, expressing his displeasure with me when you walked in, right, Malfoy?”

“Potter is correct, Madame Pomfrey. I was going to escort him to the bathroom when he stumbled. He hit me in the face and I got upset about it.”

“I find it hard to believe, but as that is the story you both are sticking to, I’ll leave it there. Mr. Malfoy, you may continue to escort Mr. Potter to the bath. Please try to be careful. Help him if he needs it.”

Harry shot a panicked expression towards where he assumed Malfoy was. Draco Malfoy was going to help him bathe?

On to PART 3