Draco Malfoy, Broken

Chapter 49 – Limits, Part 1

Published: 5/30/19

***TRIGGER WARNING*** mentions of sexual abuse, unequal relationships and non-consensual assault. Also sexual manipulation and control.

Blaise woke up, dazed from the potions Madam Pomfrey insisted that he continue to take. She refused to heal his spine, saying that it was still too damaged to be reconnected. At least his mother had forced her to give him back his arms. He wasn't nearly as defenseless. He was still seething after Tracey's visit, but he refused to admit that it unnerved him. She walked right in and touched him and he could do nothing about it. His reputation, strength and magical ability be damned. She could have done whatever she wanted. Shame went through him and he choked back some tears. He hated the feeling.

His eyes rested upon Neville, slumped in the chair next to him. His mouth was slightly open and he was drooling endearingly onto the hospital pillow he had stolen from another bed. Blaise smiled. Neville said he would watch over him, when his potions knocked him out. It was the only reason he willing drank the healing draughts. They left him weak and sleepy, but the pain was significantly less. It was still dark out the window and Draco and Theo would be down in a few hours. Neville would have to go, eventually. He couldn't sit at his bedside all day without someone noticing.

Neville eventually woke up and wiped his mouth. "You're awake. I'm sorry, I tried to stay up."

"You didn't have to stay up all night. I told you that," Blaise said, with a small smile.

"You were worried. You still are. You didn't want to take your potions last night."

"I don't like being groggy. It's annoying," he muttered, not meeting Neville's eyes. He was surprised that the Gryffindor could read him so easily.

"What happened? With your mother?" he asked.

"Nothing happened."

"Before I came in yesterday... you were so... on guard. Not just with her, but me, the headmistress and your friends."

"I was in pain," he said, flatly.

"For a Slytherin, you don't lie very good."

"I lie just fine," Blaise said, and looked back at him. "I just don't like lying to you."

Neville gave a half-smile and made to touch his hair, but stopped. Blaise wanted the contact, but it was against the rules that he had insisted on implementing for the remainder of his hospital stay. No touching, no flirting, no kissing and no lingering eye contact. They all were exceptionally difficult to resist, especially, the eye contact and flirting.

"Are you going to tell me what happened, then?" Neville pressed.

"No."

Neville sighed. "Why not?"

"Because... it would be a long and painful talk. I don't want to get that worked up right now."

"But you will tell me?"

"Sure, right after you rip out your heart and tell me your deepest, darkest secrets," Blaise spat, getting defensive.

"Oh Merlin, what happened?" Neville said, not at all concerned by his anger.

Blaise looked away. "Nothing."

"You've never gotten angry at me before. Someone hurt you. I don't need to know everything... but... at least tell me something."

Blaise lowered his head, feeling the burn of humiliation. He needed to start somewhere and take little steps. Neville wasn't asking for much. He had withheld the question all night, too. He deserved some open communication. Blaise's voice was quiet when he said, "Tracey came by."

Neville made to touch his hand, but took a firm grip of the blankets next to it. "And?"

"She... it was before I got my arms back. She... put her hands on me and I couldn't stop it," Blaise said, not meeting his eyes. His skin grew hot and luckily his dark skin hid his blush.

Neville took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry that happened, Blaise. She had no right to... violate you... like that. No wonder you didn't want to take your potions."

"My mother got rid of her, though, which was so embarrassing," he muttered.

"She's your mother."

"She shouldn't have to protect me," Blaise said, shame in his voice.

"I wish my mother could protect me," Neville said, quietly.

Blaise looked at Neville in horror. "I'm sorry, Neville. I didn't think...."

Neville waved him off, but had some tears coming down his face. "You see... I can rip my heart out, too."

Blaise's mouth opened to respond, but couldn't think of what to say. He hadn't expected his pain to be trumped. He nodded. "Touché."

Madam Pomfrey stopped anymore conversation between them when she came in to do her morning checks.

"And how are you feeling?" she asked, coming around the front of his bed to the other side.

"Fine," he said, not quite getting his normally intimidating voice back.

"Fine for you, is usually bad," she tutted. "What's hurting?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Phh... I don't believe you," she said, shaking her head.

If there was one person who had any idea what he had gone through, it was her. She would try to get words out of him, but his words were always the same noncommittal words. He never said anything.

"You once came in here once with a dislocated shoulder and three broken ribs and said you were fine."

Blaise curled his lip at that memory. Millicent, the she-bitch, had wrenched his arm out, man-handling, or rather, woman-handling him into position. Then when he complained, she punched him in the gut until he stopped whimpering. Tracey had gotten in her licks, too, amongst other things.

"Just fine, huh?" the matron asked, watching him.

She didn't say it out of cruelty. No, of all his friends... and family, she tried the hardest to get him to stop his destructive lifestyle. Blaise looked away, again. He couldn't talk about it. He never said no or stop. He had no limits... at least that's what he thought.

She gently lifted his head up. "Tell me what hurts, sweetie."

"My shoulder and my back," he mumbled, tears coming out. He didn't look at Neville.

Madam Pomfrey patted his head and rubbed his arm. "It's okay. I'll take care of it."

The matron spent nearly twenty minutes casting healing charms and checking how everything had healed. Blaise didn't resist her ministrations and followed her instructions, without comment. He felt exposed, humiliated. He was shaking, now. He didn't know what it was from, though. The attack, Tracey, all the abuse, the matron's knowing look or Neville's sad face. He couldn't grasp ahold of that numb feeling. The denial and apathy.

"Blaise?" she asked, more concerned than he had ever heard. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer. Neville put his hand on his shoulder and Blaise turned to look him. He needed comfort, but he had no idea how to ask for it. Neville didn't wait for him to figure it out. He wrapped his arms around him, in per violation of their rules, and hugged him tightly. Madam Pomfrey just left, locking the entrance doors and went into her office.

Neville held him for a long time. Blaise slowly relaxed and couldn't help but smell Neville's sweet skin. Eucalyptus and spring flowers. Professor Neville smelled amazing and Blaise had to fight the urge to taste him. They leaned back far enough to be eye to eye and still feel each other's breath. Neville's eyes were blue, unwaveringly loyal and true. Pure kindness.

Blaise was almost pulled right into his lips, but backed away quickly. He shook out the almost compulsory desire and said, "That was close. But thank you for...."

"Yeah, sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yes... I'm...." But he didn't finish. He didn't know.

"I guess you weren't lying when you said you didn't want to get worked up by it. I'm sorry I pushed you."

"What? Oh... that. It's not your fault. I'm just... off."

"I'm sorry anyway," Neville said, hanging his head, guiltily.

Blaise was about to comfort him when Madam Pomfrey came out with another potion. "Looks like you're doing better. This will help your nerves heal. It shouldn't make you too sleepy, but you might be a little disorientated for about thirty minutes. You may pass out for a little bit, too"

"Can I wait until...."

"No. You don't know when your friends will wake up and come down. This needs to be taken every eight hours. It's necessary for your back... unless you want to stay here longer?" she huffed.

Blaise made a disgruntled face and Neville said, "If you fall asleep, I promise I'll wake you up, if they come."

Blaise looked at him and nodded. Madam Pomfrey handed him the potion and didn't leave until he drank the chalky-tasting mixture. He swished his mouth in annoyance to get the taste out and handed her the goblet back. She checked it was empty, because she didn't trust him, at least where his health was concerned. She had pulled him out of class several times back in his "wild" days to take his potions or bring him to his checkups.

"Good," she said and checked his eye, but as soon as she did, he got a headrush and he slumped backward, his eye slowly shutting. "Don't fight it. The potion will take a half-hour to work its way out."

Blaise's head drooped and he knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake. His breathing became deeper and his muscles relaxed. He only dimly heard Madam Pomfrey say that he was unconscious. It felt like he was.

"It'll only be for a little bit, though, right?" Neville asked quietly.

"Yes, he should come right out of it, soon. I've learned to always tell him the truth. He doesn't trust easy and never tells how much pain he really is in. But if he comes to me, it must be bad. He's learned to half-heal his wounds and injuries fairly well over the years, but it's not one of his specialties. Thank, Merlin. Otherwise, he'd never willingly come here."

Blaise didn't, or couldn't, respond to that. She was right, of course.

"He didn't deserve any of this," Neville said, sadly.

Madam Pomfrey humphed in agreement and then said, "You know... he's never let his friends stay here. Or even know he came here."

"What?"

"He must trust you a lot to let you stay and listen."

"We're... getting close. As close as we are able, anyway," Neville said, a little frustrated.

"I want you to know that he hides how hurt he is and who hurt him. Just... be careful with him. He's been hurt by too many people."

"I will," Neville's firm voice said, as Blaise slowly faded into unconsciousness.

The dark thoughts formed, pulling at his memories, and sending him back years ago. Blaise was standing outside the infirmary, shaking. Blood was dripping on the floor, not at all stifled by the makeshift bandages he had used to try to stem the bleeding. He was torn very badly.

"Look at me," Marcus Flint said, pulling his head up.

He obliged, wincing from the pain, and stared into the older boy's eyes, innocently. Well... not so innocent anymore. He was scared. Miles was only a few steps away, watching for other students.

"What are you going to say?" Flint said, his cold, cruel eyes stared down at him.

"It was an accident," Blaise repeated, they had had this talk before.

"That's right. And what will you say if she pushes harder?" Marcus asked.

"Nothing."

"Good... but she's going to insist on an answer. Tell her you were... experimenting. No one else was there... got it?" Marcus said, his voice rough and his fingers dug into his neck, possessively. Miles, his second, gave him a supportive smirk, making Blaise nervous. They were over three years above him and strong physically, as well as socially. Marcus was 19 having been held back to retake his NEWTS.

"Yes."

"Say it," Flint ordered. He always demanded immediate obedience. Blaise knew not to refuse him.

"I was experimenting. It was just me... no one else was there," Blaise chanted, immediately.

"There's my boy. You're doing so well," he praised and Blaise felt better. Marcus didn't hurt him as much when he was pleased with him. "You want to stay with me, right?"

Blaise nodded. Flint was in charge of their house. There was no one higher. He carried the full weight of Slytherin behind him and issued the orders. They all were required to follow them or pay dearly.

"The school has to... follow rules. Rules that are stupid. You can't tell the professors anything. Not Pomfrey, not Snape, not Dumbledore. Unless you want everyone to know what you have done?"

Blaise shook, he didn't want that, everyone knowing what he was and did for Marcus. He could be kicked out and sent home. He'd get in big trouble. He didn't have the Ministry contacts Flint had to help him.

Marcus ran his fingers across his cheek. "You can't tell anyone about our games... you understand?"

Blaise said, almost automatically, "I do."

Flint did not seem satisfied, though they had gone over this before. "If you tell... if they find out... everyone will know that you're a snitch and a little bitch. You want that?"

"No. I'm not...."

"You know what our House will do to you, if you squawk. They'll put you through a gauntlet. They'll turn their back on you and no one will touch you again," he said and Blaise shivered. "You do enjoy... being with me? Or do you want to stop?"

He shook his head.

"Then don't say a word about what happened," Marcus growled, anger in voice.

Blaise cringed. "I won't."

Flint went on though, determined to assert his control more. "You understand that no one will believe you, right?"

Blaise nodded. Marcus was the Captain of the Quidditch team. The other Slytherins worshipped him and followed his every order or paid for it. He was a no one. He was just a third year, son of a murderess with new money and, basically, he had no influence. He barely talked to his own housemates. Theo and Draco were his only friends, but they weren't close. But Marcus had handpicked him to join his group. He said that he wanted him to be a part of the elite, the ones in charge. He was special. But there were dues, though. He had to prove himself. Prove he wasn't coward or a snitch. Saying no wasn't an option, either. Marcus said that punishment for disobeying would be severe and in front of the whole house. Pain or humiliation.

"I won't say anything," Blaise whispered.

"Good. You like being with me, right? Cause I like you, a lot," Flint said, caressing his cheek.

Blaise couldn't deny that Marcus made him feel things that he never thought were possible. It felt so good sometimes, but it hurt, too. He didn't like the others touching him. He didn't like when Marcus played games, either. But he didn't know how to say no, set limits. He did what he was told and they had really hurt him this time.

"Last night though..." Blaise whispered, feeling his wrists where the rope had cut in.

"Hey! Are you a little bitch? If you can't handle playing with the big boys, you can go back with the other bottom feeders. Maybe you can go room with the first and second years?" he threatened.

"I d-didn't m-mean..." Blaise backtracked, shaking.

"But you did. You want to be with the elite, right? The purebloods? There are some questions about your line, Zabini, do you want me to mention that to the others?" His voice was vicious. There was no mercy in it.

"N-No... please. I'm sorry," he apologized, desperately.

"You want to be something when you leave here? You have to pay for it! The others are starting to think you're not worth it. I had to put myself on the line to keep you in their good graces. How does it look if someone like you is with us?"

Blaise lowered his head, his eyes watering. "I'm sorry."

"You've got some bloodline issues and you haven't been supporting our creed. Not to mention your... skin color. I gave you a chance to be someone other than your mother's bastard son or whatever you are. I gave you a chance to prove yourself last night. You want to go back and be nothing?"

Blaise trembled. The Slytherin team wanted to celebrate Gryffindor's lost to Hufflepuff and he was one of the few invited to the seventh year dorm year to party. He had quite a few drinks and hadn't realized that Marcus pulled him into his private room. Blaise was used to being his knees for him, already. It was normal, Flint had told him. Some part of him liked it, especially when Marcus touched him. But he had tied him to the bed and gagged him. He had been rough before, but he hadn't hurt him that much. Then he brought his friends in, told him it was time to show what he was ready to be one of them. He left him bound there all night. Come morning, Marcus had tried to heal him, but he wasn't good with internal wounds.

"No... but it... hurt," he breathed.

"I'm sorry. I thought you could handle it. That you were strong enough," Marcus said, disappointment in his voice.

"I can and I am," he insisted, raising to his challenge. His mother would kill him if he ever balked from anything. She never let anyone get anything on her. She would rather die than beholden to anyone. She would kill anyone who tried. He knew that all too well.

"Then stop complaining and obey me! Unless you don't want me to touch you anymore?" Flint said, and placed his hand on his crotch. He rubbed through the fabric of his robes. Blaise let out a moan against his will.

"Please..." he pleaded.

"Please, what?"

Salazar, he just wanted Marcus to finish. "Touch me."

"Well... you best get back out really soon. Your job is to get the bleeding to stop and get back out here without Pomfrey sounding the alarm. I'll be waiting and you had better not mess this up. I can think of some very unpleasant punishments, Blaise," Marcus warned, moving his hand away and healed the rope marks on his wrists.

Blaise nodded, swallowing hard, and whispered, "Okay."

"What was that?" Marcus spat, torquing his neck up to stare at him. Flint was nearly two feet taller than him.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes... Master," Blaise said, the word still sounding strange. He didn't like it at all. He wasn't comfortable with any of it.

"Good boy," Flint said, mockingly and tapped his cheek twice before pushing him toward the hospital wing.

The matron was nearly beside herself trying to get him to say anything, but he followed Flint's orders. She threatened to tell the Ministry and explained that he was too young to be engaged in that kind of sexual activity. He just repeated that he had done it to himself. She said she had to report it. But he never told her anything. She reluctantly let him go, but he came back two hours later, bleeding profusely, again.

Blaise cracked open his eyes, coming out of the dream. His heart was pumping quicker, but otherwise he didn't react to the dream. Marcus had controlled him with impunity during his whole third year. Investigators and mind healers came and went, but Blaise always said the same thing. He was not a snitch. Once he was free of Flint, it didn't take him long to realize that he had lied to him. About everything. There was no elite club or power-hold. It was just Flint, intimidating the fuck out of everyone. He felt used. Abused. Played. He was more pissed and embarrassed than anything else. He believed Flint, let him treat him like a pet dog.

He couldn't believe that he was so stupid to believe him, but Flint had been a master of manipulation. He wasn't surprised in the slightest when Marcus became a Death Eater. He even had the gall to send him an invite to a party last year. He sent it back with a curse that would have made him yelp. He didn't try to contact him, again. Despite his abilities, Blaise never sought retribution. He was so ashamed of himself that he wouldn't have been able to look him in the eye.

Blaise had been so mentally jumbled, after Flint and the other seventh years had left. Flint's teammates remained though. Derrick and Bole had stayed another year. Miles, Pucey, Warrington and Montague longer. But none of them tried to do anything like Flint had. None of them made him prove anything and they didn't control him. Miles and Warrington were still assholes, though, but nothing compared to before. Of course, Draco taking over helped. The power shifted right at the end of their third year. Draco must have figured out what Flint was doing to him... beyond normal sex and relationships.

Draco had gone to the quidditch parties, too, but never, as far as Blaise knew, was invited to Marcus's private bedroom, which he had no right to have. He had made the first and second years room together to have it. But Draco was smart enough to see the results of the nights of rough sex. Draco tried to convince him not to go to the parties and to stop seeing Flint, but Blaise didn't want to make Marcus mad. Draco was punished severely whenever he tried to interfere with Marcus or trying to stop Blaise from going. Blaise always went, regardless, and paid for that choice.

But the last game of the year, when Slytherin lost to Gryffindor, Draco had grabbed him and dragged him away from the Slytherin dorm. Blaise was shaking, knowing how pissed Flint would be, for the game and if he went missing, and he tried to break free. Draco disarmed him and then forced him to drink a potion. He immediately became light-headed and nauseous. Draco pulled him to the hospital wing, in time for him to throw up in front of Madam Pomfrey. Draco convinced her to hold onto him overnight. Blaise tried to argue, but he had a high fever, too. The matron all but strapped him to the bed. Draco had merely told him that "You'll thank me tomorrow. Stay here."

Blaise was fretful and afraid all night, but was very much relieved of the ready excuse to miss the downer party. Flint was brutal was he was mad. Draco must have known that. But Blaise didn't want the help or understand that he needed it. Looking back, he regretted one thing. He missed Draco's showdown with Flint. Theo came the next day to check on him at Draco's bequest. They weren't as close to each other at that point. But Theo had more emotion than Blaise had ever seen in him before as he recounted what had happened in their common room in great detail.

Marcus had figured out that Draco had put Blaise out of his reach and was ready to punish him for losing the match. Flint called nearly the house to watch his disciplinary tribunal. Of course, Draco picked pain... six times, each of his teammates punished him for losing. Draco took it all, didn't beg, cry or balk. The third years to the seventh years watched him when he faced off against Marcus, who was five years older than him. He went last and put Draco through more than all the others had. Flint ended the long bout of torture with a Cruciatus Curse, which surprised everyone.

But after Draco had stood up and spat at his feet. "You done?"

"For now... your attitude needs some adjusting."

"No... you're done. I paid my dues. Now, it's your turn. Your reign is over, Flint."

Marcus laughed and raised his wand, but Draco stripped him of it, as easy as if he was a first year. Stunned, Flint spat, "How dare you! I'll...."

"How dare I? Do you know who the fuck I am? Did you think that I just have a powerful name and nothing to back it up?" Draco roared. "It's time you learned your place. I'm in charge, now."

"The hell you are!" he said moving toward him, but stopped when Draco raised his wand.

"Oh really? I played your game. You couldn't break me. You have no cause to press for more."

"You lost the game and the House Cup! There's no way we can win, now!"

"Maybe... but I'm not the one acting like a spoiled brat and taking it out on everyone else. I have paid up for my failure. It's your turn. You are the captain of the team and you failed. Are you ready for pain or humiliation?"

"You have no right to...."

"See that's where you are wrong. Power decides who gets to do what. I have your wand. Anyone want to assist Flint, here? Any volunteers to back his play?" Draco called out.

Miles was the only one who moved, but Theo stepped up next to Draco. Like a stereotypical coward, Bletchley slithered back and kept quiet.

"This isn't happening!" Flint stamped his foot like a five-year-old.

"It is. Pain or humiliation? Last chance, before I pick."

"Fuck you! I'm not going to...."

Draco dropped him to the ground with one spell. Flint spasmed uncontrollably for a minute, before Draco lifted it. "Now, that wasn't pain. It was me showing you who's in charge, now. You refused to answer, so I pick humiliation. Because I know that you are the coward that you are and you'd probably run crying to the infirmary as soon as it is over. So... you are to move all your stuff back into the seventh-year dorm room... without your wand."

"I'm not...."

"Oh yes, you are. I'll break this and have fun acquiring and mastering a new wand for your NEWTs. You can't redo another year, Flint."

He looked at horror at him. "You can't...."

"Accidents happen. Now, go and be quick about it. Then you can come back and kneel down in front of me and beg me to give your wand back," Draco spat, venomously.

"I'm not doing that!"

"Then good luck in your career with no NEWTs scores and everyone knowing that you bailed on our game."

Flint took the walk of shame down to his dorm room and Draco sent Bletchley after him, wandless, to help him move, as Miles had failed to save eight goals in the game. It took them all of 30 minutes to move. Draco had the seventh years rouse the first and second years from their rooms to witness the end of Flint's reign.

"It's all yours, your highness. May I have my wand back?" Flint sneered, kneeling.

"Highness, huh?" Draco mused.

"Well, you are the new Prince of Slytherin," Theo said, supportively.

"I am, aren't I?" Draco chuckled, before glaring down at Flint, to pronounce summary judgment. "You are not to move back in. You aren't to hassle anyone for the rest of the year. I would think you care about getting a job after school and should do some studying, but everyone knows you're a fucking moron. So, good luck with that. And..." Draco leaned in so only Theo and Flint could hear. "...you aren't to ever touch Blaise, again."

Flint's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, but held his tongue.

"You agree to the terms?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Draco growled, as though knowing he embarrassed Blaise like that.

Flint was livid. "Yes, your highness."

"I accept your surrender. Don't fuck with me, Flint." Draco threw his wand back at him and he snatched it up.

Marcus almost hexed Draco, but turned to go to his new dorm room. "Enjoy my room."

"I'll be doing nothing of the sort. First years... start packing your stuff. You're moving back into your dorm room."

Flint was offended at that and left with Miles. But the first and second year boys nearly exploded at the news, having been jammed packed into a single room for nearly a whole year. They thanked him and left to start moving out. Draco then turned to the rest of his teammates, who had just cursed him. They all bowed their heads.

"You all help them move. I want to sleep sometime tonight," he ordered. They didn't argue and did as he said.

Draco spent an hour hearing the thanks and concerns of his housemates before sending them to bed. When it was just Theo and him, Draco nearly collapsed into his arms.

"Can you help me downstairs?" he asked. Goyle and Crabbe had already gone to bed, lazy assholes.

"I got you, Draco," Theo said and pulled his arm over his shoulder.

"Thanks for having my back," Draco told him. Theo had been the only one to stand beside him. Draco would have had a problem if Miles or the seventh years got involved.

Thanks for having ours," Theo responded.

Blaise was speechless when Theo told him what happened. Of course, he was happy that Marcus wasn't going to hurt him anyway, but he was still confused how Draco could have so easily wrested control from him. He didn't understand yet, how much Flint had manipulated him. He thanked Theo for telling him what happened and spent another day stuck in the hospital wing, thanks to Draco's potion, thinking about nothing but it. Blaise didn't get very far figuring it out. He was in deep denial.

But the Weasley twins stopped by at one point, breaking his brooding. They were complaining that they had imbibed too much butterbeer the previous night during the celebrations and their stomachs were upset. When they asked what was wrong with him, he just said his friend force-feed him a fever potion. They gave him a look and asked why. Blaise couldn't answer immediately, but after considering it, whispered, "to protect me." One of them made a comment about how Slytherins were crazy and left. Blaise realized it made sense. Draco was protecting him and he had taken over their house to do so. Moreover, did Marcus really have all the power, if Draco, another third year, could overcome him? He didn't sleep at all.

When Draco came, the next morning, Blaise broke down crying. Draco just held him and said that he and Theo weren't going to leave him alone for a second until the school year ended. He was safe, for the most part. Flint continued to stare at him as though to challenge him to come back, but Draco firmly told him that he wasn't letting him out of his sight. Marcus Flint was not worth it.

When Flint tried to say the words that would make him want to comply, Draco punched Marcus in the face and hexed him enough to put him into a dull, mute stupor. Draco kept him safe for the last few weeks of the year and Blaise never trusted anyone, again, like the way he trusted Draco, or Dray, as he liked to call him, much to Draco's chagrin and fear.

Neville took his hand and Blaise snapped out of his memories. "Blaise? I've been calling you for a few minutes. Are you okay?"

"Yeah... sorry. Lost in my thoughts."

Neville tilted his head. "Can I ask what you were thinking?"

"How awesome Draco is," Blaise said, with creeping smile.

Neville gave him a look.

"Draco basically took over our house in our third year. I mean there were some issues with the older students in the fourth and fifth years, but he had the respect of all of us," he explained.

"Yeah, he was pretty popular."

"It wasn't about popularity. He made it better... and he did it to save me."

"Save you?" Neville asked.

"Yeah... he did. More than once."

"I... understand. You guys are close."

"I need you to understand that I would do anything for him, take any pain or consequences for him," Blaise said, forcefully.

Neville nodded. "I figured that out."

"But this... hospital stay... is nothing. I would do it, again in a heartbeat."

"I would, too. You don't have to explain anything."

"But I have to defend him, Neville. I'm going to hurt those guys. I can't have you underfoot, for more than one reason."

"So... "get lost" is what you're saying I should do when you get out of here?"

"Not as bluntly, but yeah. I might only see you at meals and in class."

"Back to normal, then?" Neville said, lowering his eyes.

"Yeah... but it doesn't mean that I don't l..." Blaise broke off and Neville looked up. "...l-like... l-love... you any less."

Neville was shaking and gave him a big smile. "I love you, too."

The distance between them diminished, intently, but Blaise sighed. "We shouldn't...."

Neville's shoulder's dropped and he muttered, "I know... rules."

"Yes... rules."

There was a knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey checked that they were separated before unlocking it. Blaise could hear Harry and Draco, before he saw them.

"And I'm telling you... everything will be fine. Just give it a chance," Harry said.

"No, stop trying to convince me," Draco said, as they entered the ward.

"Enough, you two, we're here," Daphne said and met Blaise's eyes. Things were slightly better between them, but they needed to have an awkward conversation, still.

"What are you arguing about?" Blaise asked.

"Harry wants me to try out for the eighth-year quidditch teams," Draco grunted in annoyance.

Blaise sighed. Quidditch definitely wasn't one of his favoritest things to talk about. He could thank Flint for that. The dead asshole. "And why don't you want to join?"

"What? I don't want everyone to be targeting me... all the accidental collisions and bludgers I can possibly have. Plus, I'd either be competing against Harry or trying to take his spot. I don't need all this headache. I'm here to pass my NEWTs, not fuck around playing games."

"You love quidditch," Blaise said and Draco frowned.

"It's not important. I don't have enough time to practice."

"They're just fun teams... no heavy-duty training," Harry pointed out.

"What's the point, though?"

"It's a way to relieve stress."

"They'll still be gunning for me! I do remember what happened to you in your first match. They'll jinx me off my broom."

"We'll have extra refs and shield charms."

"I'll be going against you!" Draco huffed.

"I'm okay with that, you don't have to get worried that I'll hate you or anything if you get the snitch first. It'll be okay. Happy even."

"Like I will get the snitch first. You've always beat me. Every game."

"You can try to beat me for once," Harry said in a smooth, enticing voice.

"You've got a better broom," Draco said, embarrassed.

Blaise figured out the issue. Draco didn't want to lose anymore. Potter had a Firebolt. Draco couldn't afford one, now, and he'd been beaten twice by it. He had been severely punished for losing, too. But Blaise thought that Draco always made it look easy, whereas Potter was always distracted by the match. He watched everything, not just looked for the snitch. Draco was a seeker.

Blaise interjected, "Everyone outside, I want to talk to Draco."

Neville smiled and walked next to Daphne, "So... you look like you hate quidditch as much as I do?"

"It's a stupid waste of time and money. You should have heard them coming down, here," Daphne said and explained more as the four of them went into the hall. The matron shut her office door behind her, glad to be rid of the crowd of students

"Alright, what's wrong, Dray?" he asked.

"I'm just worried, is all."

"No, you aren't. You've never been worried about the other things in the game. You focus on the snitch and nothing else. Why don't you want to play against Harry?"

Draco looked at the floor and kicked some non-existent dirt. "I won't win. It's not worth it."

"Pride?"

"No... there's just no point if Harry wins all the time."

"You're not just playing against Harry, though. You'll go against the other houses, too."

"Why are you pushing this, too? You don't like quidditch."

"No, but I like when you are happy. You love flying," Blaise insisted.

"No one will play with me."

"You're a good seeker. They'll want you," he said, reassuringly.

"I'm not that good."

"Oh my Morgana... fine! We'll settle this a different way. Go get Potter," Blaise said, exasperated.

Draco lowered his shoulders and walked over to the door, opening it and inviting the group back in. Harry nervously took Draco's hand. "I'm sorry for pushing you. Bill said...."

"Professor Weasley?"

"Yeah... he said that you almost won both our matches... that I only won by having a better broom."

"That's not true. You won fair and square. I'm the one who cheats."

"I know we've always been close... inches. But...."

"Shut up, Harry!" Blaise said, earning a look from the Chosen One. "Alright... here's what you are going to do. You two are going to go practice... right now. Just you two in a seeker's battle. If Draco wins, he doesn't have to play. If Harry wins, then you do."

"But he always wins..." Draco muttered. "...how does that help?"

"Well... time to find out. Have fun... best two out of three. Switch brooms each time."

"I'm game!" Harry said.

Draco sighed, but looked happier after Blaise suggested switching brooms. "Fine."

"Let's go change," Harry said, jittery.

"But..." Draco said, looking at Blaise.

"I'm not going anywhere... go have fun."

"It's not fun," Draco grumbled.

"Why don't you go with them, Neville? You can ref," Blaise said, a ready excuse to get Neville out of the ward.

"In the air?" Neville said, dubiously.

"Yes."

"You did ride a thestral, Neville. You can handle a broom," Potter muttered.

"It knew where to go. I just held on for dear life," Neville admitted.

Harry laughed. "Come on, you'll enjoy it. Hermione might come, too."

Neville, Draco and Harry said goodbye to Blaise and left out the door. Daphne made to follow, but Theo didn't move. He was waiting for his turn.

"I want to talk to Theo, go on ahead with them."

"Okay," she said, and didn't seem as jealous as yesterday as she walked out the door.

When the door was shut, he turned to Theo, who took his hand. "Theo, what's wrong?"

"She... kissed me."

Blaise smiled. "That's great, Theo."

"But... I... what do I... do?" he whispered.

"With kissing? Your relationship? Sex? What's the issue?"

Theo flinched when he mentioned sex. "Should we try to... be together?"

"Theo... I'm pretty sure, you're together already without the official declaration. She's been trying to get you to see it for a while, now.

"But I'm... messed up. What if..." Theo rambled on.

"We'll handle it, Theo. She's not going to walk away. She's going to be by your side regardless if you start anything. She's your friend. She's going to be hurt if you are hurting. We all are, just like you were upset when I was attacked. Don't hurt her by pushing her away."

Theo looked down. "What if I can't... you know. What if there's something wrong with me? What if I can't... please her?"

Blaise sighed, only Theo would be so direct. "It's not that hard. It's natural, instinctual."

"But..." Theo started.

"You want her right?" Blaise asked and Theo nodded. "Then there's not going to be an issue, Theo. You're going to be fine."

"We wanted to be alone, though," Theo said, bashfully. "It got... close last night.

"Well, they're going to go play quidditch. The room should be empty," Blaise said, trying not to laugh.

Theo gave him a look and then a hug. "Thanks. You'll be okay?"

"Yes... go. I have my wand and an overly-concerned healer. Have fun, I guess?"

Theo gave him a shy smile and went out the door, where Daphne was waiting for him. Blaise chuckled at the thought of Theo propositioning Daphne to stay in the dorms. They must have gotten a little carried away last night. He frowned when he realized that Theo probably had no idea how to prevent pregnancy, but Blaise shrugged. Honestly, it would probably help matters between them... speed them along, actually.

Madam Pomfrey looked out and said, "I see you smiling. That's not something I usually see in you."

Blaise smoothed out his face. "Well, I'm usually in pain while I'm here."

"I just think it's working out for you. Neville, your friends... even your mother, who I didn't even think existed until she showed up yesterday. She took a long time to respond to your health concerns."

"She's not one to hold my hand through to it."

"I saw that. But I'm going to go prep your potions, just yell if you need anything."

Blaise nodded and she left. He pulled out the book that his mother had given him and the self-inking quill Neville had left for him and started writing. It was easy to write when he knew what he was talking about. He wrote for nearly two hours before the door opened and Blaise looked at Harper, setting his book to the side.

"Harper," he greeted, formally.

"Blaise. I heard that you were in here," he said, uneasily.

"Yeah..." he said, looking toward the window.

"Are you alright?" Harper asked, coming closer.

"Fine. Just stuck here for a few more days," Blaise grumbled, and then asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh... just a check-up... on my arm," Harper said, quietly, as he examined at the Blaise's arms, that were also held snuggly in braces.

Boy, this was awkward, but maybe not. "Come here," he ordered.

Harper came to his bed, without delay.

"Give me your arm."

Harper complied held out his arm with the brace on it. He was nervous, but Blaise ignored him. He slowly removed the brace and Harper winced slightly but didn't resist. Blaise gently checked the bones in his wrist and Harper tried not to move.

"This is where it hurts?"

"Yes," he breathed, clearly in pain, but still not willing to ask him to stop. Pride goes a long way.

"Let me try something," Blaise said, grabbing his wand. "My mom sent me a few spells."

Harper gave him a surprised look like he didn't expect Blaise to care that much to seek assistance from the infamous Widowmaker. He nodded, giving permission, and Blaise mumbled the healing spells, carefully trying to heal the destroyed nerve endings in Harper's wrists. Blaise could feel the pain in his head grow, but ignored it. He was determined to fix his mistake, consequences be damned. He chanted the spells in a mixture of Italian and Latin, feeding his own strength into the healing magic until he nearly passed out. He dropped his wand, when his vision went black, but didn't lose consciousness, yet.

"What is going on out here?" Madam Pomfrey's voice called out.

His eyesight slowly returned to see her craning over him. He recoiled at her closeness. "Wha'r'ya doin'?" he slurred.

"Do you have no control?" she growled. "Your body has limits, even if you don't think you do!"

Blaise cowered slightly from her rage, but realized how drained he felt. He was shaking, like he'd just sprinted a marathon.

"I told you not to push your magic!" she chided.

"Sorry... I had to..." he whispered, drowsy and still unable to focus.

"No, you didn't! And you, Mr. Harper... letting him!" She turned on Harper

Harper looked scared and tried to apologize, but the matron scoffed, "Don't say you're sorry. He's the one who doesn't seem to care about his own body and life. No more spells! Your mind and body are trying to heal!" She picked up his wand.

"I need my wand," Blaise insisted, finding it difficult to keep his one eye open.

"I don't think so!"

"But she might come back..." Blaise whispered, but his eye closed against his will.

Blaise faded into a thankfully dreamless state. He woke up, when he heard the door open and shut. His eye snapped open and he looked bleary-eyed at Harper, sitting next to him.

"Blaise? Madam Pomfrey just went to get us lunch," Harper informed him.

"Us?" Blaise said and looked around.

"She told Draco and the others to come back after lunch was over. They were a little riled up and she said you needed your rest. So, she sent them away."

"Were they okay?" he asked, remembering what they were going to do.

"Yeah. Draco and Theo were fine. They were worried about you. Professor Longbottom tried to stay, but she locked the door on them."

Blaise felt better but looked at Harper confused. "Why are you here?"

Harper smiled and held up his right arm, without a brace on. "You fixed it. There's no pain, no sign of scar tissue. You healed it. Completely."

Blaise felt relieved and nodded. "Good."

"I didn't know you weren't supposed to use spells," he said, in an apologetic tone.

"She was just overreacting."

"You passed out for three hours," Harper pointed out.

"I was tired."

"Well... Madam Pomfrey yelled at me a bunch more, gave me detention and tried to throw me out."

"Tried to?" Blaise looked at him.

"I refused. You said 'she might come back' before you blacked out. You were worried. I didn't want to leave you unguarded, since Madam Pomfrey took your wand."

Blaise gave him a look, surprised that he was so protective. "You aren't supposed to be seen by my presence, Harper. Wasn't that your plan with Draco?"

"I don't care. Who's she?"

"Harper, I don't need your assistance."

"It's Davis, isn't it?" Harper said.

Blaise didn't move or confirm it. How did he know? He just stared at Harper.

"Tracey's been talking a lot of trash and hanging out with Malcolm," he explained. "We know she's a bit... rough."

"I can handle them. I don't need a bodyguard," Blaise growled.

"You say that, but...."

"But it's none of your business, Harper," Blaise said, looking away. He wasn't about to ask an underclassman for help.

"I suppose it isn't, but I wasn't going to abandon you here."

"I'm fine! I don't need your help."

"No... you don't. You and Draco have never asked for help. But you both watch out for each other regardless."

Blaise gave him a look, understanding his implication immediately.

"But I just wanted to thank you, properly, anyway."

"It was my mistake. I had to fix it."

"Thank you. But I have mistakes to fix, too," Harper said, giving him a smile.

"You should go," Blaise said, looking away. Direct conversation wasn't something he enjoyed having with anyone but Draco, Theo and Neville. Maybe Harry was on that list, now, too, and Daphne.

"When she gets back," Harper insisted, and Blaise turned to glare at him. "I like the eye patch, by the way. Makes you look even more badass."

Blaise smirked against his will and muttered, "That's what Neville said." He froze when he realized what he said.

Harper seemed to read his concern immediately. "Oh... don't worry. Kinda figured it out when Neville followed you down to our common room. I doubt he was there to admire the architecture."

"I can't talk about it," Blaise said, immediately.

Harper nodded understandingly. "I won't bring it up."

Blaise clenched his teeth, annoyed. Harper wasn't someone he immediately trusted, though the kid had never hurt him. Blaise had even propositioned him a few times. Harper declined. He didn't know why. He could have been a raging heterosexual or just disgusted with his promiscuity. Either way, it was embarrassing. He really didn't have control back then. He wanted people to hurt him, to find fill that hole that Marcus had took from him.

"You know what happened in my second year?"

"I can't say that I really paid attention to you, Harper. I had my own problems to deal with," Blaise muttered, annoyed.

"I know... Flint right?"

Blaise flinched automatically. If he had more control of the situation, it wouldn't have happened, but Marcus was already on his mind from his dream earlier. He looked down, embarrassed that he had responded to his name at all. Harper had cut through all his mental defenses.

"Sorry... I... I didn't mean to.... Well, we all knew what he was doing to you, but he made the first years move into my dorm. That was rough. One kid got sick, we all would get it. Then the arguments for space, stuff going missing and general bull-headedness. Alex and I had to pull them apart more often than not. Then Draco changed all that. It was fucking amazing. How could we not follow him? He ripped everything away from that asshole and gave it back to us. I could see how much pain Draco was in, how much blood he'd lost in their battle, but he didn't care. We were more important. You were important."

Blaise swallowed hard. He refused to validate any of it. He kept his eyes down.

"He never let you leave his side for those last weeks and he punched Fl-him out in front of everyone when he tried to talk to you. I can put two and two together. I am a Slytherin... a decently smart one, Blaise."

"That you are," he acknowledged grimly and lowered his eyes. "I would appreciate if you wouldn't say...."

"I wouldn't think of it," Harper said, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Thanks," Blaise said, quietly. He didn't like people knowing his business, but he had been naïve to think his house didn't know everything that he did. He was the slag of Slytherin, after all. People gossip.

Madam Pomfrey came into the door, hovering trays of food in front of her. She pulled the table over and pushed the food into front of him. She threatened him with nutrient potions if he didn't eat it all and handed Harper a tray. She ignored Blaise when he asked for his wand back and went into her office. Harper ate his food in silence and Blaise grumbled at her choice of food, but ate it without voicing his complaints. Harper took his tray and set it on the return rack just as the door opened again and his friends came in. Theo led them in, followed by Draco, Harry, Hermione, Daphne and Neville. All of them looked at Harper, but he merely gave Blaise a nod and walked out the door.

"What was that about?" Theo asked, territorially. .

"Nothing..." Blaise said, and they looked at him and at each other. But he just asked, "How'd it go?"

Draco smiled and was about to launch into his 온라인카지노게임, when the infirmary door opened, again. Tracey Davis walked in and everyone turned to look at her. Hermione and Harry probably didn't know what she had done, but Theo and Daphne pulled out their wands out. Neville looked at him, reassuringly. Draco came closer to him. He was ready to take any spell she could throw.

"I'm here to see Madam Pomfrey," she said, loudly, ready to defend herself. She hadn't been expecting all of them.

"Yes?" the matron came out. Her expression soured when she saw her. "What is wrong?"

"There's something wrong... can you look at it?" she asked, trying to no doubt get some privacy.

"What seems to be the problem?" Madam Pomfrey asked, in a loud, obtrusive voice.

"Can we..." Tracey nodded to her office, but Madam Pomfrey didn't budge.

"No, I'm sorry, but there are potions in there and they are very temperamental to mood changes. What is wrong? I won't know if you don't tell me."

Tracey Davis grimaced, but muttered, "There's something wrong with my cheek." She pointed to her face.

Blaise could only see a faint outline on her cheek under her makeup. He smiled. It was only going to get worse.

"Well... I don't see anything. Come back when there's something actually wrong, honey."

Tracey's mouth dropped and she turned to glare at Blaise, but Theo stepped between her and him, defensively. She turned on her heel and stormed out the door. The matron huffed and walked over to his bedside. He looked at her and she gave him a kind smile.

"Your friends can all stay for a little while, but then only one or two should stay. You need to rest," she said, adjusting his pillows.

"I slept all morning," Blaise grumbled.

"No, you passed out this morning, because you exceeded your magical limits. You are not in any shape to force yourself to stay awake for them. Thirty minutes," she insisted, waving her finger. "No more than that."

His friends looked at him and he lowered his head. He nodded to her and she gave him a soft pat on his shoulder, before leaving.

"What happened?" Theo asked.

Blaise leaned back in his pillows and felt exhausted. Maybe the healer knew what she was talking about. She always tried to take care of him, no matter how much he resisted. He didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked, taking his hand, despite present company. "We tried to come back earlier."

"Yeah. Just tired."

"What was that bitch in here for?" Theo said, looking at him. His voice had some anger in it.

Blaise withheld a smile. He wasn't sure exactly what his mother had done, but his mind was imagining the various skin conditions that she could have used. "I have no idea," he said, in a completely innocent voice.

***

Draco could see the weariness in Blaise's eyes... eye. He was weak, on empty. What did Pomfrey mean... he exceeded his magical limits? He really wanted to ask, but everyone there had priority over him. He held his tongue and resisted the urge to take Blaise's hand. He hated seeing him like this. It brought back so many memories of watching his friend fall deeper and deeper into his depression and self-destruction. He could do nothing to stop him or save him. Blaise wouldn't listen to anyone. He didn't care about protecting himself. It was so crippling to watch. He shuddered.

"Draco?" Blaise said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Blaise noticed his spiral. "You were...."

"Are you really okay?" he asked, cutting him off. Neville had asked the same question and Blaise hadn't answered it... correctly.

Blaise stared at him, considering. "I just used my wand to help Harper. It wore me out."

"Help?" Daphne said.

"He didn't have a brace on! You healed him?" Theo asked.

Blaise shrugged, but Draco could tell he was happy. He had felt guilty over hurting him.

"You did?" Neville asked, grinning.

Blaise smirked, but looked at Draco, knowingly. "That's not that interesting. What about you, Draco? How did it go?"

Draco wanted to ask him what happened but couldn't help but smile. Blaise had known exactly what he was doing when he sent them out there. Holy fucking Salazar, it was awesome flying with Harry, racing him to the snitch, forcing him to switch tactics. It was just them for three hours of speed and adrenaline. It was unbelievable. It had been three years since he was on a broom and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. There was nothing but Harry, him and the air. Nothing else mattered.

"It was... great," he breathed.

"Who won?" Blaise asked, smugly.

"Harry caught it first, after they chased it, and each other, for thirty minutes," Neville said. "Then they switched brooms and Draco caught it."

"The Firebolt was awesome," Draco said, smiling. He had beaten Harry... it was a first and Harry wasn't mad. Maybe it was going to be alright. Maybe he was worrying over nothing.

"You were amazing. We even switched back and you got the snitch... on your broom," Harry bragged. He was jittery with excitement. He took Draco's hand. "You did great."

Draco's body hummed with his praise and he really had been dying to kiss him since the pitch. He should have shoved him into the broomshed or something on the way back. Because he was fighting every hormone in his body, now. He couldn't wait until tonight to really give in. He wanted to test his limits, but was still concerned about how to do it. He had some ideas... but they had to wait.

"You had some moves, too! You got me a few times with your Wronski Feint!" Draco laughed.

"You kept blocking me and forcing me to keep my eyes on you, rather than hunt the snitch. Merlin, you're a natural!"

"And then that roll you did to get away? That was cool!"

"Can you show me how you did that one move? Right before you got the snitch?" Harry asked excitedly and Draco started into the grips and roll techniques, high on Harry's rapt attention and went right into diversionary tactics he had read about.

"Where did you get that from?" Harry asked.

"I read about them in a library book about seeker tactics."

"Maybe I'll borrow it. Do you think...."

Blaise cleared his throat and Draco looked at him, a little embarrassed that he and Harry had been talking for probably ten minutes without stopping.

"Sorry," Draco said and looked down at the floor embarrassed. Everyone was staring at him.

"So... I guess you're not going to try out, then? Since you won and you don't want to play quidditch anymore," Blaise said, nonchalantly inspecting his nails.

Draco's shoulders dropped and he glared at Blaise. That little... jerk. He knew! He planned this. He should refuse out of spite, but he looked at Harry's pleading eyes. "You really think it'll be okay?

"You can't be afraid of what might happen or nothing will ever happen, Draco," Harry said, taking his hand.

Draco looked at him and again resisted the urge to snog him in front of their friends. He gave him a smile. He really had loved flying today. His fears and worries were gone when he flew. He was free. The fears and horrors of the past couldn't reach him there.

"So... will you go to tryouts?" Harry said, giving him a dewy-eyed look.

Draco let out a breath of exhaustion. They wouldn't give up. He nodded. Harry gave him a big smile and hugged him. Draco wrapped his arms around him and squeezed hard. Harry squeezed back. Draco put a little more force, too, before Harry lifted him off his feet slightly.

Draco squirmed, laughing. "Put me down, prat!"

Harry did, letting go and looked at Draco some with tears of happiness in his eyes. Harry, as if Imperioed, moved the small distance that separated them and kissed him. Draco didn't push away. No, he stretched it out longer, not afraid to use a little tongue. He didn't even care that the others were there. He'd been aching to kiss since they started playing. He didn't want him to stop. But Harry eventually did, and Draco heard Blaise whistle as Harry broke the connection.

"Alright, guys!" Neville cheered.

"That was... sensual," Daphne said, happily.

Draco felt his cheeks warm up, but he didn't regret it. Harry was a little embarrassed, but looked happy.

"Damn... that was great!" Blaise said.

"Shut up!" Draco muttered and everyone laughed.

"Sorry... didn't really think that one though," Harry said.

"Don't apologize Potter! Draco was the grabby one. Looked like he wanted to...."

"Don't finish that, Blaise!"

"...kiss you?" he finished.

Draco sighed.

"Or shove his tongue down..." Blaise started, but Draco walked over and went to cover his mouth. Blaise stopped him and Draco only half-heartedly struggled with him. He was still bed-ridden. "... alright, I won't finish it."

"Thank you!" Draco snapped.

"I never thought I'd see it," Hermione said and Harry went red. "But you flew very well, Draco. You should definitely make the team."

"Thanks, Hermione."

"Yeah... it was fun to watch... from the ground," Neville said. Draco suspected he had a fear of heights.

"It's almost been 30! Wrap it up!" Madam Pomfrey shouted through her door and Draco's shoulders dropped.

"I'm just tired. Don't worry about me."

Draco's lip trembled. He couldn't understand why he was so afraid right then. Blaise was so hurt and weak, it was like a knife in his heart. He froze, unable to move or speak.

"Hey, Harry and I are going to wait out in the hall, we'll see you tomorrow Blaise!" Hermione said and pulled Harry out with her. He had been staring at Draco.

"Neville... you can't stay here. Go study... rest..." Blaise said.

"Fine... but I'll be back after dinner," Neville said and gave him a nod. "I actually have to repot some moly plants. The second years used the flobberworm-infested dirt from the compost pile when they moved them yesterday."

"Yeah, Professor Longbottom... better go yell at your students," Blaise

"I will. Those are rare flowers. I'll see you soon," Neville said, and went out the door.

"I'll just wait in the hall," Daphne said.

"You can stay," Blaise declared.

Theo looked at Blaise with some happiness. Draco didn't know what happened. Blaise and Daphne had been at each other's throats last year and slowly developed into a mild tolerance for each other's presence. Blaise would have never asked her to stay when she was going to leave.

"You... want me to stay here?" she said, kind of shocked.

"Yes," Blaise said, but dropped it and looked at Draco. "Are you okay?"

"Damn it, Blaise... I hate seeing you here. It reminds me of... before. What did she mean... about exceeding your limits? Are you really hurt?"

Blaise sighed. "My mind and core are working to heal my injuries, and she warned me not to use magic, but I couldn't help it. It hurt like hell and I passed out, but I'm fine. I just overstretched, but in a few days, it'll be back to normal. All healed and my core recharged."

"There's no lasting... issues?"

"No."

Draco didn't believe him. Blaise would never admit he was hurt or in pain. Draco remembered being questioned by Ministry officials as to who was hurting him. He told them it was Flint, too, but they didn't even question him. Flint's father worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The board of directors didn't care either, when he and Theo went to meeting with the investigators and directors. They swept everything under the rug, only completing the required evaluation. "No cause for investigation" they declared. Another reason why Draco didn't trust either of them. Without Blaise complaining about his treatment, there was no evidence. Blaise was under Marcus's complete control and there was nothing Draco could do to convince them to help.

Draco leaned over and pulled Blaise into a hug. Blaise seemed a bit surprised, but held him, patting him gently on his back. "Draco... it's okay. Everything's okay. I'm okay."

"Don't lie... you don't like telling the truth."

"I'm sorry about before. But I am going to be okay."

"You're shaking," Draco muttered, in his arms still. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," Blaise muttered.

"Come on, Blaise. Talk to me."

Blaise frowned. "She took my wand."

Draco let go to look into him. He didn't want to say he needed a babysitter. That he was scared. What had happened? Draco touched his arm. "We can hang out all day, Blaise. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're not staying here. You couldn't defend him properly without getting into trouble. I will stay. You go have fun with your boyfriend," Theo said, firmly.

Draco blushed, but heard the order in his voice. "But...."

"Nope... off you go, Draco," Theo said, though he was smiling. "Daphne and I already spent time together. It's your turn."

Daphne sighed. "You told Blaise, didn't you?"

"Tell me what?" Blaise said, putting on his innocent face.

Draco smiled. He hoped he hadn't been wrong about them last night. It went from awkward to more awkward very quickly.

"Liar... I highly doubt Theo got the idea to go up to the tower while the others were playing games. Fine... go head... tell 'em," she said, not successfully hiding her happiness about it.

Theo just smiled widely and said nothing.

"I told you it'd be fine!" Blaise said, patting him on the arm.

Draco went to Daphne and hugged her. "Congrats!"

"We are the least normal people in the school," she said, rolling her eyes. "People don't just talk about their sexual relations in front of others."

"That's why you love us," Draco said, smiling.

"I do. All of you," she said and looked at Blaise, who nodded. Something had gotten fixed between them.

"Thanks... I'm really happy for you," Draco told her.

"Me too, Draco. Harry's great for you. You were so happy when he kissed you!"

"Like a cute love-sick puppy..." Blaise taunted.

"Ass... but I am happy. I never thought it'd be possible."

"It is, Draco. It is," she said.

Blaise nodded in agreement. Theo intertwined his fingers with hers. They had only known pain for so long, that the thought of reprieve was only a faint hope. They were bonded by the pain they shared and in a way that love had been created out of it.

"I guess it is.

"Come on... let's get back to the common room..." she said, taking his hand.

"You don't have to go," Blaise said.

"I do. He needs you to help analyze everything... like Hermione and Luna are about to help me."

Theo blanched and looked at her, his mouth open.

"Don't give me that look. You told your guy friends. I can talk to my girlfriends."

"She's not wrong, Theo. You started it," Blaise said, with a laugh.

"It's fine... I just... everything was okay?" Theo said, worry laced in his voice.

"Theo... it was fine! I was great, amazing! Nothing was wrong."

"Sorry... I don't know... he muttered.

"Don't apologize. We'll talk tonight, okay? Just talk to Blaise, right now... he's better at it than I am... sometimes."

"If you're okay with..." he started, but Daphne grabbed his shirt and hauled him in for a kiss.

"You are perfect. I am completely fine with it," she said and kissed him, again.

"I'm right here!" Blaise snapped. "And this is torture, you know... I can't kiss until the end of the school year!"

"Not my fault, Blaise. Shut your eyes! Well... eye...."

"Ha ha. Get her outta here, Dray," Blaise said, jokingly.

"Come on, Daph..." Draco said and pulled her away from Theo, who pretended to be offended.

"Serves me right for having guy friends. I need intelligent people," she huffed.

"I'm smart!" Draco said, as they walked toward the door.

"You think with your dick just like all the rest of the guys."

"Hey!" came from all three of them.

"Just a fact. See ya Blaise and see you tonight, Theo," she called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

Draco bid them goodbye and followed her out. Harry and Hermione walked with them back and Daphne was already whispering in her ear. Hermione barely said goodbye as they went up to their dorm room, giddy with excitement.

"Do you want to run up the stairs like that?" Draco drawled.

"Maybe one day, Dray-co," Harry said, teasingly.

"Prat."

"That's who I am," he muttered and they went up to his room.

Within seconds, Draco was frantically kissing him to make up for all the times he couldn't on the pitch. He pulled Harry's robes and shirt off, but wanted more. He didn't want Harry's hands on him, yet. The other... stuff... might come up. He didn't want that. He didn't know if he could handle it. He tried to stop those thoughts, but it was too late.

"What's wrong?"

Draco didn't answer. That was another problem. All it took was one flinch and Harry would freeze up and stop everything. It only made it worse, especially if he started to ask questions. Draco couldn't have that. That was going too far. But he had thought of his options. There was a way, but he didn't know if Harry would do it. Harry had to have limits, too. But all Draco could do is try. He would find out, soon, as he unzipped Harry's jeans. Harry didn't move an inch. He knew him so well. However, Draco fidgeted, nervously.

"Can we..." Draco started, but couldn't say the words.

"Boxers?" Harry suggested, helpfully.

Draco nodded. Potter undid the button and his jeans fell to the floor. Draco slowly pulled off his robes and lowered his trousers, too. He was filling up just thinking about Harry one day undressing him. That was in his dreams, though.

Trust wasn't easily gained, no matter how much he loved him. The memories hurt too much. Draco shook off the wisps of the pit memories and focused on his desire to expand his horizons. Carefully and controlled, that was important. He probably should have talked to Harry first, but he was too nervous.

"Come here... I want to... try something..." Draco said, uncertainty, but finding some courage in his voice.

Harry came onto the bed.

Gasp! A cliffhanger! Wa ha ha ha!

Sorry about Blaise's part... that was a little brutal to write. But I wanted something more than references to what happened. He's come from a long way, though.

Also sorry for 2 parts... it was getting too long!

I'll try to get part 2 done soon... no promises though. Might do some editi on this chapter, too.