The Lost Malfoy

Chapter twelve: tired

(January)
Draco had grown even more impatient with his prime sister. A month had passed since he rescued her from Godric's Hollow, and she was still unconscious. Bill had a professional healer come out to look at her, who deemed her fit, no lasting spells or curses, just that she was asleep. And Draco didn't understand it, but he rarely left her alone. Charlie, who Draco had called two days after the rescue, had hardly left her side either. They both seemed to sit precariously on the edges of their seats waiting for her to open her eyes. The healer had used some magic to ensure she was getting the nutrients she needed by giving them a spell to use three times a day. As January came to an end with Asteria still asleep, Draco began to stew on why she was still like this. The final bruises had faded off her skin, other than a few scars that lingered, she had no visible injuries, while she was still thin, it wasn't as horrible as it had been when he had found her at Christmas.

Draco currently sat in a chair on the patio looking out at the beach, his head in his hands as the cool breeze touched his skin. When the sounds of distinct apperation sounded in the distance. Draco was on his feet in a second, wand drawn, body ready for a fight. He slowly stepped his way out towards where the sound came from along the beach and was shocked to see a dirty Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, and Mr. Ollivander. Draco faltered in his step as Lovegood looked towards him.

"Oh, hello Draco." She smiled at him, and even covered in grim, she seemed to shine. "The other should be here momentarily."

"Others?" Draco struggled.

"Yes, Harry, Ronald and Hermione, Griphook and the lovely Dobby." Draco looked at her confused. Another sound echoed over the ocean, and suddenly there they were. A goblin was clutching Weasley's hand, even though his other hand was wrapped around a weak Granger. Draco rushed over and helped Weasley.

"Oh thank heavens," Granger whispered, as Draco lifted her up from Ron and motioned forward.

"I'll stay here for when Harry gets here," Ron whispered, and Draco faltered for a second until he felt a wet spot growing on his shirt from Granger's arm, where she was currently bleeding. Ronald looked uncomfortable but unable to leave until Harry was there, so Draco rushed forward with the others, handing Granger off to Bill and going back out to the beach where he was suddenly rushed and a body was taking him to the ground. Draco's arms wrapped around the body of his boyfriend, who just clung to him tightly. Draco gave a short nod to Ronald as he walked past them, as Draco brought them both into a sitting position, Harry straddling his lap with his head buried in his neck.

"All he ever tried to do was help and now he's gone." Harry cried against Draco's skin. Draco glanced from the direction from where Harry had come and could see the prone body of his old house elf. Draco had always liked Dobby and he sighed squeezing Harry as he quietly sobbed. There was nothing Draco could offer or do, except hold his boyfriend tightly, rubbing his back.

"Shh, I know love," Draco whispered and continued rubbing his back until the crying slowed and Harry leaned back, his dirty face streaked with tear tracks.

"Why did this have to happen?" Harry whispered, looking up at the sky with something akin to anger.

"Because life is not fair, and as cruel and horrible as that sounds, its the truth. We got dragged into a world that our elders had damaged." Draco responded, and paused. "Now we, better than they ever were, have to fix it." He finished, brushing dirty hair from Harry's face.

"Why is it our job to make the sacrifices?" Harry asked, looking every bit his young 17 years.

"I wish I knew the answers, Harry. I really wish I did. I wish I could make it stop, so no one would have had to feel this kind of pain." Draco whispered, feeling pain bloom in his chest at the sadness evident on Harry's face. Draco seemed to remember at that moment that they were still children fighting a war meant for adults. Even if they were technically adults in the wizarding world, they were still children, still teenagers. Harry sighed and leaned back against Draco's chest, hunched over and Draco just rubbed his boyfriend's back. What a useless word wish was. Wishing for something won't make it happen, it won't change anything, it won't bring back the dead, it won't heal the wounds, it won't fix what has already happened, or prevent even more horrible things happening. This war was going to leave everlasting scars that would follow all of them until their deaths if they survived the battle.