Blind - drarry

Chapter 15

Published: December 19, 2020

Updated: September 30, 2021

Potter refused to accept their explanation, even after Hermione tried to explain exponential growth equations. When he finally resigned himself that it was true, he sulked, pacing or just sitting in the living room, drinking firewhiskey. He was lost, lost for weeks in his own head. He didn't even make breakfast anymore, and Draco couldn't find it in his heart to leave him like that. The wordless interactions they had in the den didn't help snap him out of it. Draco would play with his cube, bring Potter some tea or else just stare into the fire. This was the depression that Weasley and Granger had told him about.

Harry didn't get fired. Of course not. He was the Chosen One. He just got a two-month "suspension". Hermione explained that it was a reward, too. He got the holidays off. Harry found six Death Eater spies at the Ministry. No one cared that he violated the law to do it. She disapproved, but was glad at the ending anyway. Williamson and the others got life sentences after legitimate investigations were completed. Draco was pleased about that.

But Harry's quasi-vacation wasn't going well. It had been nearly a month, and he didn't seem to be coming out of his stupor. Harry was ruled by his guilt and, though Hermione and Ron visited every day, they couldn't get him to come out of it. Harry barely ate what Kreacher made and slept less. Draco kind of hoped he'd snap out of it on his own, but he was beginning to see that he needed to be there for Harry, like Harry had been there for him.

When he brought a plate of eggs and bangers to him, Harry took it and said, "You made breakfast?"

"Well, someone had to pick up the slack."

Harry sighed, sadly, "I'm sorry. I should've...."

"That wasn't me asking for an apology. It's your food, your house. I'm just an expense."

"No, you're not," Harry growled, finally showing another emotion other than sadness.

"Well, I can't exactly contribute to the house, can I?" Draco muttered

"Hermione is working on it."

"Really? I wasn't aware that you were paying attention to what was happening," Draco stated, pointedly.

"What?"

"You've been sitting on this couch for weeks. Care to join the rest of us?"

Harry sputtered, but said nothing.

"Eat your breakfast. All of it."

"I'm not hungry," Harry muttered.

"I didn't ask if you were hungry. Eat it. I ate every sandwich you brought me. You need to eat. Hermione says that you've lost some weight."

Harry took a deep breath. "I will."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, Draco."

"Good."

Draco was not a fan of eating in the den. It wasn't proper, but he ate there with Harry. He even took Harry's plate to the kitchen and brought him back a tea. Potter took it.

"Thank you. I'm sorry... you shouldn't be doing this...."

"Hush," Draco said and felt the seat next to Harry, before sitting down next to him. "It was nothing. But this... was hard." He held out the cube, the completed cube.

"Draco! You did it!" Harry said, his voice full of happiness and life, again.

"It only took a month and a half."

"That's... you're amazing, Draco," Harry said, and leaned over, maybe to hug him, but stopped and took his hand. "Sorry. You-You said no, and I respect that."

Draco nodded, though he thought that he was going to regret that no for the rest of his life.

"I'm so sorry, Draco. I was supposed to help you get your eyesight back. I t-thought..." Harry stammered, tears coming out. "I t-thought I was s-supposed to save you."

Draco gripped his hand, interlocking their fingers. "You did save me, Harry. From Voldemort, from life in prison, from the streets, and I highly doubt you let me leave this house to go back to my hole without a fight."

"Damn right, I won't," he said, his voice a little firmer. "But Draco, I was supposed to fix this. I told you that I would do this for you!"

Draco set his cube down and placed his other hand on top of his and Harry's. "Harry, friendship doesn't require gifts or favors. You gave me companionship, and that's completely fine with me."

Harry gasped slightly and gripped his harder. "That sounds familiar," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I know what it meant to me. Harry, you're going through the stages of grief. You already covered denial, anger, bargaining and now depression. And if you need more time, that's fine, but I've accepted it."

"How can you?" Harry said, disbelief in his voice.

"I had nine months before you found me, Harry. I had time to adjust to my predicament."

"If I could've figured it out when I first saw you..." Harry lamented.

"Harry, you couldn't have fixed me even if you figured it out then. Nine months was already too long."

"I thought you said a year was the cut-off?"

Draco sighed. "It's because no one has ever had a blood curse lifted, once a year has passed."

"This is so confusing. Hermione tried to tell me... but all the numbers and stuff, I didn't understand it. Can you explain it to me?" he asked, a little embarrassed.

"Sure, Harry," Draco said, hoping that more information would help Harry understand. "Most blood curses are of exponential decay, that is leading to death. Let's say you have x amount years left to live, and the curse causes that time to decrease at y amount until you are dead. Pernicious curses activate like that, too, including how long the curse stays on after it's been lifted. The clock is working against you in both cases. With me so far?"

"Kinda... but curses don't usually stay on that long after the counter is used, right?."

"How long have you had a curse on before?"

"Well, umm... a few hours?" Harry shrugged.

"And I'm sure that they weren't pernicious, meaning your opponent meant for you to be left that way. They were defensive spells meant to incapacitate you."

"Or kill me, usually."

"Yes, well understand that there's not much difference between pernicious and blood curses. They are meant to maim, transform and kill you. They are the darkest form of magic. Revenge magic, it is usually called. Straight medieval. They are also the hardest to break, and you have to do it quickly, because, unlike normal curses that usually break on their own, those curses are difficult to get rid of and require special counter curses. Normal counters work in seconds, right?"

"Yeah."

"Those spells will start with only needing a few seconds to wear off, too, but if you leave it on for a day, it might take an hour for the counterspell to work. That might make you think that one hour per day means that at a year, it would be 365 hours, which is about two weeks."

"So, wait... you might get your sight back?"

"First, it's been almost three weeks, and Hermione checks every day to see if that was the case. Second, that isn't how these curses work. You forgot about the exponential part, or rather the rate of change. A day means one hour, but at seven days, it's not seven hours. It becomes twenty-four."

Harry didn't say anything, but "huh".

"The rate of change makes the amount of time increase dramatically. After six months, it will take over a month for the curse to dissipate. At nine months, it would have gone up to four years."

"Four? That's... crazy!"

"It's Arithmancy for you. And at one year... it's over a hundred years. Which is why no one has ever had a blood curse lifted after so long."

"No," Potter cried and tried to pull his hand away. "Why?"

"It's dark magic, Harry. People made these curses to last and be able to get whatever they wanted before they lifted it."

"If we had only gotten it removed at the beginning...."

"If only."

"So, after a hundred years, it will come off? There's no way to speed it up?"

"No, but I am guessing at the hundred years part. There's not a magic number that tells you when exactly your time is up."

"Wait, there's no way to figure it out?"

"No. No one would ever volunteer to figure out the exact rate, even if that rate is constant. Every curse is unique, and they don't all have the same rate of change. It also depends on Williamson's force of thought, if it stays constant rate, and my own body and health. Death curses are usually at a higher rate of change, whereas blood maledictions are at a slower rate. But a century is the best guess. Arithmancy is hard, when you don't know all the variables."

"Bloody hell! Why aren't you upset, Draco?" Harry growled.

"I just accepted it. I had no means to stop it from happening. Why get mad at things I can't control? Do you feel any better when you rage against the world?"

"No, but... it isn't fair!" Harry spat and got up to pace, frustrated.

"Life isn't fair. I did a fair number of unpleasant things. But after learning that Williamson cursed me for the good things I've done, it makes me feel better. If this is all I had to pay for freedom, it was worth it."

"No, it's not! You aren't free!" Harry said, sitting next to him, again.

"Harry..." Draco said, bringing his hand up to his face, and thankfully, not poking him in the eye. "I'm not being tortured. I don't have to see my mother being tortured. No one is dying in front of me. People aren't suffering because of Voldemort, and no one is a slave."

"What about those laws, Draco?"

Draco dropped his hand. "They were meant to force Death Eaters to leave the country and keep the killers and torturers in prison. Just because I'm not one doesn't matter."

"It does, Draco. What about Daphne Greengrass? Goyle and your other friends who didn't make it out because they were tricked and coerced into breaking the rules. No! It's wrong, immoral, and illegal. Everyone is freaking equal. They did their sentence for their crimes. A mark on their arm doesn't give anyone the right to discriminate against them!"

"Most societies are fond of former criminals, Harry."

"Yeah? They don't usually strip them of every right once they get out. Anyone could do anything to you, and you couldn't even file a complaint against it! Any Auror can make you bow to him and curse you blind without anyone saying anything! And the hospital let you stay blind without lifting a finger to help. No! Hell, no."

Draco tilted his head. Harry was back. "On to next step, then?" he said, with a smile. Harry needed a purpose.

"And this one, we aren't gonna fail," Harry vowed.