FIC: Waking Softly HP/DM, past DM/LM Original poster: butterflywings3
Title: Waking Softly Author: butterflywings3 Pairing: DM/HP; past DM/LM Rating: NC-17, R. Warnings: Angst, Incest, Chan, BDSM, Hurt/Comfort...this is not going to be pretty and fluffy. Summary:Song fic- “Haunted” by Stream of Passion; Draco feels nothing exceptthrough his nightmares. Harry attempts to help him cope, Post-Hogwarts. Author’sNote: Some of this song is in Spanish and there was a translation ofthe song available; I speak, maybe, three words of Spanish, so if thetranslation is wrong, please tell me. The song breaks this piece ofwriting into sections, with song lyrics in asterisk marks. Any feedbackis appreciated. Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter/JK Rowling. Waking Softly
*Dias enteros caminando en silencio. (Entire days I spend walking in silence.) Apuro mis pasos para dejar todo atrás; (I hurry my steps to leave everything behind.) Busco en la soledad el espacio para olvidar esa voz que me atormenta. (In solitude, I search for a space to forget that voice that haunts me.)*
“N-no,no, no, no, no,” a hushed voice repeats over and over like a mantra. Adark figure looms over the cowering boy in the corner. He cannot bemore than twelve; the shivering more intense as the larger person movescloser. A pale hand reaches out, caressing the air in front of theboy’s face, sending more fear into the already rigid frame.
“Quiet,” the cold man says, the two syllables bouncing off the walls inthe eerily silent room. The “no” continues to repeat, though the soundis noticeably softer.
The man’s hand rises, striking the boyon the face. His eyes are still closed, clenching eyelids trying tokeep the salty tears from escaping. The blow leaves a red mark on hisperfect white cheek.
Harsher, the man says, “I told you to bequiet.” He glares down at the small boy, smirking as his grey eyesopen, shining luminously in the darkness. The boy nods and sighs.
“Get up.”
The boy unfurls his skinny legs, joints cracking as he moves. He hasbeen sitting there for far too long. The bedroom no longer acts as asafe haven—it has turned into a place of dread, confined and airless inthe darkness.
Moving his hand from behind his back, theimposing man shows the scared boy the flogger; he raises his hand, thesweat gathering in his palm around the handle falls gently onto thematerial.
“Crack,” the man says.
*I live in fear when the shadows reappear, Unleashing all their might. I never thought I'd face the demons on my own. Make it stop! Haunted, hunted.*
“NO!!” Draco shouts as he violently wakes from his dream, legs and armsthrashing to stop the invisible figure from getting any closer. Stilllocked in the nightmare, he feels a sharp stinging on his arms as theimaginary whip falls onto his flawless skin.
A voice calls tohim, “Draco! Calm down; it was only a dream.” Distantly, he feels acool hand wiping his sweat-filled forehead.
The voice soothesDraco’s frenzied mind, allowing some sense of peace to settle there.Coming back to his senses in reality, Draco opens his eyes; they are nolonger a vivid, piercing grey. Too many memories and fragmentedthoughts encompass his mind now. After the End, or the defeat againstVoldemort, Draco had never been the same. He saw his father die byVoldemort’s hand and he saw Severus Snape, his beloved mentor, lose hissanity from the Cruciatus curse. These two events, plus the stress thatDraco had been under for quite some time, practically his whole life,before the battle, made him repress everything. The only way he couldfeel any type of emotion was through his nightmares. Ironically enough,Harry had tried to give Draco potions that would stop the nightmares,but nothing worked. He didn’t know why. The only person who caredenough to watch over Draco in his time of need was Harry.
“Harry...” Draco softly exclaims.
“Right here, Draco. You feel my hands? I won’t let you go,” Harryreplies, gripping Draco’s hands out of comfort and so that he wouldstop flailing his arms.
“Yesssss,” he slurs, holding moretightly to keep the demons at bay. “It was a nightmare,” Draco flatlyresponds, laying back down on the soft sheets. He stays in this room,wherever it is, not wanting to face the outside world.
“Wouldyou like to talk about it?” Harry asks, moving one hand to rub Draco’sshoulders. He’s always tense after having a nightmare. Harry hopes,beyond all reason, that Draco will let him help by talking about hishorrendous dreams. Night after night, Harry always asks Draco if hewants to talk and the answer, of course, is always the same.
“No.” Harry closes his eyes in defeat; he never pushes Draco to revealhis secrets, believing that with time he may come out of hisstupor-like existence.
Harry replies calmly, not showing his hurt, “All right. Get some more rest. I’ll be waiting here when you wake.”
*Un suspiro que penetra mi alma, (A whisper that digs into my soul,) Un pensamiento constante e hiriente. (A constant and upsetting thought.) Sé que estás ahi, aunque no puedo verte, (I know you're there, even though I can't see you) Nunca he podido escapar del yugo de tus ojos. (I was never able to escape from your cruel eyes.)*
“Hi,Daddy!” A young Draco yells, excitement bubbling over. He hadn’t seenhis father in a very long time; he was getting worried he’d neveragain. His mother was never helpful in answering Draco’s questionsabout where his father went off to.
A stern glance fromLucius quiets him. “You will address me as ‘Father.’ How many timesmust I tell you this?” The boy laments, lowering his eyes in submission.
“I’m sorry, Father,” he says, wishing he had remembered his goodmanners. “I am very happy that you are home, though!” He hopes thisendearment will cheer his father in some way.
“Thank you, Son.Have you eaten supper?” He inquires, tapping his snake cane on thecarpet. A few seconds later, a house elf appears, asking what MasterMalfoy and Young Draco want.
“One of my favourite suppers,Dobby,” Lucius says, eyeing the elf disdainfully. The elf leaves theroom with a snap of his fingers.
“After supper, we will begin, Draco.”
“Yes, Father,” Draco murmurs. He hoped that his father would change hismind about their shared games, but apparently he hadn’t swayed.
Eating was a sordid ordeal; Draco’s stomach was twisting in knots as hewaited for his father to finish savouring the lemon chicken.
“Dobby,” Lucius speaks, the name sending shivers down Draco’s spine.This is the end, the moment Draco fears the most at his father’s hand.The house elf removes the plates from the table and vanishes.
“Come, Draco. You’ve been negligent in your manners. Firstly, you didnot call me by the proper title; secondly, you personified worrisomeemotions while eating tonight. Did you think I would not notice?” Hesneers. Draco knows not to back away in his fear, yet he is tempted todo so.
“Answer me,” his father spits out.
“I do not know, Sir,” he sputters, hoping to allay his father’s harshness.
“Hmmm, we’ll have to ramify that way of thinking. Come here, Draco. I have missed you...”
*With every breathe I take, My heart beats faster. No matter how hard I try to unwind, Tears keep falling from my eyes. Haunted, hunted, I'm down on my knees; Forever I'll mourn the loss of my innocence.*
“U-u-u-ugh, why...do I think he...won’t hurt me...” Draco moans in hissleep. Harry sits up straighter in his chair, hoping to hear more ofwhat Draco is saying. Give me something, Draco; anything that will helpme help you, Harry pleads with the sleeping man. When Draco fallssilent, Harry reminisces about his own tribulations.
He neverthought life after Hogwarts would be anything like the situation he wascurrently facing. He was going to marry some witch Ron picked out forhim, settle down, raise a family, and end up with a well-paying career.That had been the plan before everything changed; Ron died before thebattle was over—Lucius’ Avada Kedavra took care of that. Hermionecommitted suicide after learning of Ron’s death. After his two bestfriends were no longer living, Harry decided to change his life. He wasnot going to marry a witch; in fact, if he had his way, he’d pursue theperson he wanted most: Draco Malfoy. He searched everywhere forhim-Hogwarts’ grounds, the Malfoy residence, even the Slytherin dorms.Nothing, no evidence of the boy anywhere. Harry had no idea how manydays passed before he found Draco. He had been scourging around theForbidden Forest, looking for plants and herbs to help heal his wounds.A crunch of a tree branch alerted him to something or someone close by.Peering into the semi-darkness, for the light would not penetrate fullythrough the trees, he saw the huddled form of Draco.
“Harry...” a voice says, snapping Harry back to the present. Draco’s eyes were open, staring into his own.
“Welcome back, Draco,” Harry replies, happy that Draco recognises him, even if he doesn’t say much.
“I...think that I can tell you now,” he says, sounding small andscared. Of what, Harry had no exact idea, though he could fathom aguess.
“Okay, Draco,” he says, reaching out to hold his hand.Draco enjoyed holding Harry’s hand, simply because he acted as ananchor in a world that harboured tumultuous waves.
“H-h-eused to h-hurt me. A l-l-lot,” Draco’s stutter becomes more pronouncedas he continues to vent his emotions. After all this time, and withHarry by his side, he is able to slowly fit the pieces of his life backtogether and begin to heal.