Blind - drarry

Chapter 7

Published: December 1, 2020

Updated: September 30, 2021

It took over two weeks for Draco to feel strong enough to crawl out of the hole and limp up the sloped step. Murtagh was not happy that he didn't stay longer, but he needed air. His back and right shoulder were aching too much from the cement floor., He also couldn't put weight on his broken ribs. Potter's healing potion couldn't fix that. It required a wand. Plus, his knee was still weak from being kicked out. He just didn't have the strength to get to Diagon Alley.

However, he didn't want Potter to find him either, so he went further into Knockturn and sat against the wall of the gruel shop he occasionally went to. He got a new cup from Murtagh but, annoyingly, it didn't clink the same. The owner, a usually callous witch, came out and gave him a bowl of slop.

"'Aven't seen you in a bit. I heard what happened, love. Don't you worry about the cost, 'ither. You're a good, polite lad," she said, patting his head.

"Thank you," he whispered, and she went back inside. It wasn't the best stew, as it was made of leftover bits, but food was food.

It was noon when two sickles dropped into his cup, and he tightened up and lowered his head and his cup. Harry had found him. Draco almost started crying as Harry sat in front of him.

Harry's fingers gently touched his bruised face. "Shh... it's okay. I'm so sorry, but I got him, though. He's locked up for ten years. Turns out he had a few warrants already on him, plus attacking an Auror," Potter said quietly, as he assessed his injuries with a few spells.

Draco nodded, unsure of what to say, but he wanted to cry, again.

"Are you in pain?" Harry asked.

He shook his head, quickly. Too quickly.

"I don't believe you. I can mend you," Harry said, and it sounded like he was getting out his wand to cast some spells.

"No, you can't. The muggles will notice." Murtagh would definitely notice. He checked his injuries every night.

Harry sighed. "A little?"

"No," he said. I deserve the pain, he thought caustically.

"Wyvern..." Harry started, but thought the better of it. "You tried to tell before. That you might get attacked... if I gave too much. I'm sorry."

Selfless idiot. He couldn't have Potter blaming himself and lied, "I was attacked in Knockturn. He was just looking for anyone."

"Still... I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have prevented it."

"I could've walked you home. I could've found you a safe place. That... umm... spot isn't fit to live in," Harry said, quietly.

Draco blushed. He hated Potter knowing where he was staying. "Where did you think I was staying? Before I found that place, I slept in an alley next to the rubbish bins. You don't have to worry about me, Constable. I can take care of myself."

"That doesn't mean that you can't accept help."

"You would never accept help," he shot back. He didn't like being so weak.

"Yes, I would, and I have, Wyvern. My friends kept me alive when I was younger. They sent me food as my aunt and uncle starved me. They helped me take down Voldemort, too."

Draco still didn't like the name. "I remember that you killed him alone. You were unbelievable."

"I didn't kill him. He killed himself. I had a wand that wasn't mine, and I wouldn't have gotten there without help from many people, including four Death Eaters. Two of them died for it, and the other two went to prison for it. And I couldn't save any of them, but they all saved me nonetheless."

Draco had to keep from trembling. He wasn't sure if Harry was talking about him, but maybe he was, and maybe he didn't hate him. But Draco still wasn't going to tell him. If he heard Harry call him by his family name, again, it would just burn too hard. He didn't have anything left. "Thanks for coins, and the sandwiches, potions and clothes."

"It wasn't a problem. Really...."

"I'll try to make it to Diagon, tomorrow. You shouldn't be here. You could get cursed."

"Me? I'd like to see them try!" he scoffed. "But I have something for you, Wyvern. I wanted to give it to you directly. It's how I found your attacker."

Harry gently put the object in his hands. Draco dropped his cup when he felt the plastic. It was his cube! He brought it close to his chest as half-sobs started coming out.

"Wyvern? I'm sorry... are you okay?"

He shook his head. "I-I didn't think I'd get it back. I tried to stop him from taking it, but he hit me in the head and cut my arm."

"I'm sorry that you were hurt. It's just a toy...."

"The only thing I have," he whispered, clenching it. Harry didn't understand. How could he? Draco once had everything he could have wanted, too, and then he lost everything.

Harry's fingers touched his arm, trying to comfort him. "Okay, it's back in your hands, again. I'm sorry, but he did mix it up."

Draco nodded. "It's fine. I'm just glad to have it back. Thank you so much, Harry."

Harry sniffled a little, like he was trying to hide that he was tearing up about it. "It's my pleasure."

Harry eventually left, though it took some convincing to leave him alone. Draco left soon after that, limping back to his hole under the bridge. He played with his cube for the rest of the night until Murtagh made him eat and sleep. The next few days, he got stronger and made it just inside Diagon Alley, though the return trip would suck. He sat on a bench and just got the triangles back where he had them before.

It was near noon when Madam Malkin's boy, Richard, asked him, darkly. "Are you a Death Eater?"

He froze. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Heard it from a guy in over in Knockturn last week! That the blind beggar haunting our streets is really a former Death Eater. It's true, ain't it! I'm going to tell my mum and get you thrown out! You don't belong here on our streets!"

The kid took off running before Draco could even stop him. It was over. If that kid knew, everyone would soon. He was surprised that they didn't attack him in Knockturn Alley the past few days. He was amazed that he didn't get beaten and mugged every day. He just thought that being blind somehow endeared him to the hardened criminals. He quickly gathered his things and started toward the not-so-secret entrance to Knockturn, but he couldn't go fast enough.

"Wyvern!" he heard Harry call, but he kept walking before the rabble gathered to kill him.

He was marginally reassured that Harry would stop anything from happening, but still moved as quickly as he could on his sore leg. He rounded the store where the entrance started, but stopped when he heard running footsteps and backed into a wall for protection. He didn't know if it was Harry or not and put his arms up defensively.

"Whoa there, calm down! You're not about to outrun me, Wyvern! Where are you going?" Harry said, a few feet away.

Draco stammered, "T-The guy... w-who attacked me... he t-told everyone that I'm marked."

"Oh... well... umm...."

"Very articulate, Potter. They're going kick me out... after beating me within an inch of my life. I can't take another attack!" he lamented, leaning against the wall for support as the panic started to take over.

"Wyvern... calm down. I won't let anyone hurt you," Harry promised.

"You can't watch me 24-7! They're going to get me, and hurt me, again!" he rambled, crying.

Potter slowly wrapped his arms around him. "Hey, I got you. Your safe with me," he said, trying to help.

"There you are!" a woman's voice yelled.

Draco jumped back away from Harry and slid down the wall into a protective ball. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Please, I don't want to be hurt!"

Harry crouched down with him. "No one's going to hurt you. Madam Malkin is not going to hurt you."

"No! I won't! I'm sorry for scaring you. My son, here, wants to apologize for accosting you. Richard, apologize to Mr. Wyvern, right now!" she snapped.

"I'm sorry," the boy muttered.

"Now, get out of here and to your room! If you're not there by the time I get back, I'm putting a Trace on you!"

Richard ran. Draco lowered his head. "It's true. I was one of them."

Madam Malkin's voice was soft. "Of course, Wyvern. We all know."

"I... what?"

"Well, we guessed. Anjos saw you get attacked almost a year ago, and you don't have a wand. That's why we've been so... distant, but you're so polite and nice. Please don't think we don't look out for you. Mr. Scakins, the meanest boar I've ever known, was the one who called Harry when my son and his friends attacked you a few weeks ago. The residents, even the ones in Knockturn, all know. But we don't bring it up to the visitors and our idiot children."

"There you have it, Wyvern. No one has requested you be kicked out. You're going to be okay," Harry said, trying to be reassuring.

"Yes, please don't feel you need to leave because of my rascal son. But I'll leave you to persuade him, Auror Potter."

"Thank you, Madam," he said, and she left. Harry helped him stand up. "Do you want to go back to your bench?"

"I don't feel strong enough. I'm going to head back," Draco muttered and started limping toward Knockturn.

"Wyvern... let me heal you, please."

"No. You know that they are muggles, and so am I, now. Wizards use magic. Muggles heal without help," Draco huffed, leaning back against the wall. "Listen... Murtagh has been trying to convince me to go with him... go to the other side of the bridge."

Potter froze as he understood what he meant. "Wyvern...."

"I don't want to... but maybe I should just leave forever. I don't know why I bothered to stay. I guess I was hanging on to the only thing I had left."

"Please don't," Potter whispered.

"You don't need to keep helping me or worrying about me. Murtagh and the others will watch out for me."

Potter dropped his voice. "You really think I'd give up that easily?"

"No. You wouldn't. You're an Auror," he sneered. Potter would never give him up. "You know where I live. Even if I left, you'd probably hunt me down. I wouldn't be able to get muggle help either, cause you can gain access to the muggle information, too. I can't run from you, can I?"

"Wyvern... I'm not a stalker... but please... you don't need to go anywhere. I don't mind and neither does anyone else here. I will help you."

Helplessness was all he could feel. "You can't help me. This is my fate, and I have no business in this world anymore."

"You're still a wizard," he whispered.

"What did you forget the law? The sixth law, to be precise." All former Death Eaters are forbidden to own or process a wand unless permission is granted from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "And how many Death Eaters got permission to have one?"

"I'm blind and homeless. They'd never let me a wand. So, therefore, I'm not a wizard, and I won't ever be. No, I want to go to my hole." He turned to leave, and his bad leg gave out. He had to grab the wall for support.

But Potter muttered the spell before he could say anything and the pain in his leg vanished.

"Potter! I said that I didn't want to be healed!" he shrieked, angrily, but knew Harry would just say sorry and that it was for his own good.

But his benefactor suddenly pressed him up against the wall instead of apologizing. Draco froze under the sudden movement. Harry wasn't hurting him, nor was he necessarily holding him. He was right in front of him, though, and there was nowhere to go. Somewhat trapped, and though Draco had been taller than Potter was, he was cowering under his proximity.

"Harry...."

"No, you called me, Potter. That's the third time you have said it, and you've almost slipped a few others."

Draco swallowed nervously. Oh, f'n Salazar. Crap crap crap....

"Your voice changes when you get agitated, did you know?" Potter said, his voice sure.

He shook his head and tried to deny it, "N-No, it doesn't."

"I'm neither stupid, nor unobservant. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but... things are adding up now."

"Please... let me go."

"No... I want to see your eyes."

Fear was coursing through him. He shook his head. "Please... Harry...."

"No... there's only one person I know who calls me Potter... so obstinately. You might have changed your hair and your voice... but you can't change your eyes, can you? That's why you wear the blindfold."

"I d-don't like people looking," he mumbled, shaking.

"Show me your eyes."

He sucked in a breath at the command. "Are you ordering me to?"

"Are you going to make me... Malfoy?" Potter said with an edge to his voice.

Draco flinched as hard as if Potter had stabbed him and started crying. That name was worse than any curse Potter could throw at him. He turned his head away, though his hands were gripping Potter's shirt, knowing it was going to be the last time.

Potter's hand came up and touched his chin. "I'm going to take it off...."

He let out a sob and just mumbled incoherently. There was no denying it anymore. Potter lifted the tear-soaked blindfold off, and he blinked at the brightness. Draco never went outside without it on. He lived in darkness. He couldn't see Harry, but knew that he was right in front of him. Harry still had a grip on his chin, as though he was looking into his eyes and wasn't letting him look away.

"Hello, Draco. I can see you."