Without You.

Chapter14: Explanations and Distribution

Harry was swimming in a state of semi-consciousness. He could see distant noises mingling with the voices in his head. At the voice. That of Ash who came to haunt him again. He could not tell the difference between reality and dream. Ash's words shifted in his mind, his presence like an emaciated specter in him, his unpleasant touch disgusted him and he had the unpleasant feeling of still feeling him against him, in him.

His whole body ached, burning him from the inside. Moving a little to drive out that feeling, he felt his hand clenched in another, bigger, more powerful. The thumb caressing his skin was nice then, gently, with the little strength he felt, he pressed the other hand. He did not know who it was, but the touch did not disgust him, he was tender, loving.

- Harry? a voice asked near his ear.

A hand slipped into his hair, smoothing them backwards. That was nice too. Yet, as he wanted to open his eyes to see that person who was there for him, who seemed to love him, Ash's words came back to him in the face. As if he were still there, in his head, to spy on all his deeds and actions. As if he was still going to take possession of his mind. You're an insignificant insignificant who's no use Harry, but you're so funny when you're in pain. And what was he hurting at the moment, what was wrong? If Ash was really here, he had to fuck himself. Nobody wants you, nobody loves you. So why did this soft, delicate hand touch him as if he were worth all the gold in the world?

A groan passed the barrier of his lips.

- Harry wake up! called the voice anxiously again.

And he wanted it so much, too. To wake up. See if the nightmare really came true. But he could not. Quite simply. His eyelids refused to listen to him. He felt completely outside his body that had his own will. He felt prisoner, hindered in his pajamas of flesh. And he felt so lonely, fucking. If only in the face of Ash's memories, of his bad being. But was it just memories? Was not everything true? Did that mean that the last few months had been a dream? Sweet and pleasant, but a mere chimera anyway?

A new moan came out of his throat.

- Harry, please, asked the deep, powerful voice.

- Wake up, prayed a new person.

Why could not he put names on those two voices? Yet he knew them. Even though. Inside, it was as if he could feel his heart beating at an hour when the first hand did not leave the heart of his hair and a second, cold and soft pressed his hand very strongly right. These people ... had counted for him. A lot. He felt it in the depths of his being. Had Ash lied? Could he love and be loved? Had he succeeded where everyone thought he would fail? Why did not he remember? You are an incapable and pitiful monster.

Without being able to stop himself, he began to struggle in the bed. Against his memories, his doubts. Not against the two people, no, not against them but against the horrible feeling that rose in him. He had to remember at all costs.

A grip closes the hand against the mattress, preventing it from moving more. Harry almost thanked this person, he was so hurt. In his head and in his body. But it was as if an invisible enemy stood near him and had to fight to the end. So, whatever the pain he felt, we had to let go of him so that he would not lose his head anymore than now.

- Why does not he calm down? asked the second voice, anxiously.

"I do not know," said the first, leaning toward him - he could now feel the warm breath against his cheek and he wanted to curl up on himself. Go get Madam Pomfrey!

Pomfrey? This name told him something. He was connected to Hogwarts. School of witchcraft. He was at Hogwarts, so all was well, he thought with relief. Then it was as if the light came back into his mind. Those people close to him, talking to him, touching him, comforting him, were Severus and Draco. His two loves, his two lovers. He suddenly remembered that he had already woken up before being given a Sleep potion. And that Severus was already at his side at that moment.