Looking Beyond The Lies (Drarry) (Boyxboy)

Chapter 27

Draco felt fatigue wash over him again, and again, and again. It came crashing down on him, hard, like heavy waves rolling in from the furthest parts of the ocean, dragging him down and under to the dark depths. No longer could he keep his eyes open, a prisoner to sleep.

Harry cradled Draco in his arms as they hurried back to the Slytherin dorms, although not too hurriedly as to disturb Draco from his beginning slumber. Harry did not think Draco would wake for anything at the moment. When he picked him up, the blonde boy was struggling hard to keep his eyes open, looking as if he were fighting to stay awake. Harry had already shushed his cries about being carried, he knew Draco would not be able to hold it together much longer before his body collapsed, or before he went into a state where he would shut him self off from the outside world.

Ron led the charge to Harry's dorms, wand out and still spooked about what had previously taken place. His best friend, his best fucking friend, had been assaulted, and from what he's heard, not for the first time. Those two scumbag sacks of flaming shit had had the nerve to go near Draco, not once, but twice. It made his blood boil, and oh how he wished he could've gotten a hook or two on those bastards. He knew it was no use getting angry now, it was well and truly over, but Ron was angry for Draco's sake. And he would be for a long time. There was just something bubbling away in the pit of his stomach that made him livid - probably not as enraged as Harry had been, because Ron has seen Harry incredibly angry before and it has scared the pants off him - because that was his best fucking friend. His very first and best friend since first year, and god, Ron would do anything for Draco, because that's the person he was, kind, and with a big heart of gold. He would always have Draco's back, and would always be there for him, regardless of the situation.

Ron had always known there was something off about Draco, whether it was the way he had been treated as a child, or the constant strains he'd been put under as a growing and impressionable teenager. Something was just a little... off. Not in a bad way, but Ron had known Draco for a long time, and had managed to pick out telltale signs of what the blonde was mostly feeling over the years, and lately, he knew that Draco had not been in a good place. He had not been for a while.

A short trek later and they were nearing the Slytherin dorms, in the murky and cold dungeon of the castle. Ron put his wand away, as they neared the portrait, and slowed, turning to look at Harry with his arms full of Draco. He let out a sigh, and looked away, continuing a slow shuffle. He eyed the grey flagstones of the wall, noting how much gloomier they seemed to be in the dungeon than anywhere else in the castle, only serving to dampen his mood more. He'd never really spoken with Harry before, well, he had, but not like this, in this context. He knew Draco and Harry were good together, and he had no intent on harbouring any previous grudges against Harry that he might've had, seeing how happy Harry has made Draco. He thinks, any foolish decisions Harry made when he was younger was because he was a child, and children do stupid things all the time, and Ron should know, coming from his family experience.

Ron didn't notice Harry stop a few feet further back from the portrait than he did, didn't hear the quiet clacking of Harry's shoes fall silent before his did. "I can hear you thinking, Ronald. What is it?" Ron's shoulders drooped ever so slightly, a sad smile gracing his freckled face as he turned toward Harry, eyeing the body of his best friend cooped up in Harry's arms, held tightly to his chest, almost protectively. Ron supposed he had a right to feel that way, but just seeing his best friend so limp and unresponsive made his heart break a little. He didn't know if Draco was ever going to be okay. The blonde may seem like a hard weathered boy a lot of the time, and he was, putting up with so much shit that he didn't have to, Ron had seen so, but years and years of emotional turmoil and pain had to wear down on a person in a way that could be irreversible. And Ron was afraid of that, afraid that Draco could never see the happiness of all the little things again, never experience it.