On The Wings of A Dragon

19. Disgust

Harry's head was spinning.  First at hearing the story about Draco's first friend, and then being told by his  mother that Fireball had been found.  Draco must be so exhausted at the bizarre rollercoaster of emotions that he had gone through that morning.  He really wanted to go and knock on the door to Draco's room and comfort him the same way he had outside, but his mother had said that perhaps he should give him some time.

He had arrived back at home and hoped that Draco was all right, but knowing in his heart that he probably wasn't and had so many questions right now.

When Draco stepped into his room, he had slammed the door shut.  He didn't want anyone to see his tears of shame on his face right now, least of all Harry Potter.  But he did have a lot of questions.  Needing to calm himself before they were asked, he started pacing in his room, but realized that the motion wasn't going to bring him any satisfaction.

He took his broom and went flying.  It was freeing, being in the air away from everyone and everything.  Not in the same sense that he felt when they had won the war, but it was a start.  He had so many thoughts running around in his mind, wanting to know where Fireball was found, and why now.  Had his mother known all along where he was.  How was it possible that the elves hadn't been able to find him in the Manor all those years ago, and now his mother just happened to do that.

He carried on flying, not paying attention where he was going to, and the higher he flew, the more his thoughts drifted to Harry.  How Harry had hugged and calmed him, and had wiped his tears away.  He remembered how it made him feel.

Harry must be so bloody disgusted, thought Draco.  A pure blood wasting tears on a plushie toy that he hadn't seen since he was a young boy.  Probably having a good laugh at him right now, wishing that he had never even come to the Manor.  

As Draco was flying, his tears were flowing - because every single moment that he had spent with Harry he treasured.  And if he was done with him, that was okay, but the shame and the hurt hit him hard.  Why hadn't Harry followed him to his room to comfort him again, he wondered.

After spending another hour in the sky, he finally felt his exhaustion, dropped to the ground, and made his way back to his room.  He had a shower and got dressed, ready to speak to his mother about Fireball, and what she knew.

Harry was pacing in his lounge.  He didn't want to be away from Draco right now, he wanted to be there to comfort him and perhaps help him get through this.  Yes it was only a plushie toy, but it was much more deep seated than that.  Draco held a fear now, one that wasn't lost on Harry.

If a toy could leave him, then so could anyone of his friends.  The easy thing for Draco to do was distance himself from them first, before he was the one to get hurt.  Silly Slytherin.

He wasn't sure if he should go back to the Manor and talk to Draco, or listen to Narcissa and stay away, giving the blond time to go through his motions.  He just wasn't sure, because he had so many questions himself.  Perhaps if they faced it together, they could achieve something, but the one thing that was bothering Harry, was - if he went back now or later, would Draco forgive him for leaving in the first place.

To hell with what the reaction was, he just felt the need to be there for the man, and tell him that he was.  He grabbed his jacket and apparated to the Manor.

Draco had gone to talk to his mother - demanding answers - and he had received them.  She took one look at his face and told him what she knew.

"The day you lost Fireball was the day that I started to really hate your father.  I knew he was involved, I just couldn't prove it.  Every time the subject came up as to why he did it, he would sneer and laugh, telling me that no son of his would have friends - only acquaintances.  He hated the fact that you had something in your life that made you smile.  His reasoning was that if you had Fireball, your focus wouldn't be on other things.  Things that he wanted to control in your life.

And so he took Fireball without my knowledge - that night when you were sleeping.  Your father has a trunk that has always been sealed with his magic.  Nobody else can open it, and the day he was convicted and sent to Azkaban, is the day that all his magic spells and charms fell apart.  I of course only realized this later - and so started looking into things that he had touched and sealed.  

It was by chance that I found Fireball in the trunk.  I found a few other things there as well, such as your favorite blanket from when you were a baby.  He took that away from you too.  I found pictures that you had drawn for him - but they had been torn up - as if he never wanted to see that you had a happy side Draco.  

I am so sorry love", she said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.  She knew of the torture that her son was going through right now, finding out that someone you used to love and worship, actually hated you and everything you did.  But why?  What would be the reason, the purpose behind his hate.

Was it because he never valued Voldemort the same way as his father did?  Draco sank to his knees in front of where she was sitting on the couch, and put his head in her lap.

"Where is he?", asked Draco with disgust, his own face wet from crying.

"I have asked Tinkle to wash him - he will be put on your bed", she answered and ran a hand over his head to soothe him.  

"I hate him", said Draco, looking up at her.  "I FUCKING HATE HIM - I WISH I NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!!", he shouted out loud, making his mother wince.  

Just then there was a knock on the door, and in his absolute anger, Draco stormed towards the door and yanked it open.