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‚You talked to him yet?‘ Draco read on his phone.
He sighed. Pansy had asked him that daily for the last week and his answer remained the same.
‚No‘ he answered and then stuffed the mobile in his pocket as he took his coat and apparated to the Manor.
His mother had invited him for dinner and he was glad to get an update on his dad‘s status. The court was already late with their decision if Draco could finally visit his father or not and he was getting really impatient.
"Draco…" ,his mother greeted him with her soft voice and a gentle smile, as soon as he materialized in the salon.
She looked tired and exhausted.
"Hey mum." ,Draco mumbled and walked towards her. He hugged his mum gently and instantly recognized, that she lost even more weight. This whole situation was gnawing on her.
"How are you, my dear?" ,she asked.
"I‘m okay…" ,he sighed, "How are things for you? How is dad?"
His mother sat down on one of the sofas and patted the pillow next to her.
"Sit. Let‘s get tea first." ,she said and as Draco sat down next to her she called for her houseelf "Pebbles?"
The elf girl appeared right next to them and smiled.
"Mister Draco. What a pleasure!" ,she greeted Draco and bowed.
"Just Draco, Pebbles. You know that." ,he answered and bowed as well, before he smiled at her, "Nice dress you‘re wearing!"
"Thank you! Mrs. Narcissa bought it for my birthday." ,she smiled and swayed from left to right, so that the floral dress would move around her legs.
Draco looked at his mum, who glanced at Pebbles with a fond smile. He was glad, that his mum wasn‘t alone. Pebbles and her brother Rock were a big help, not only with the chores, but just for his mums sanity.
"Could you bring us some tea, dear?" ,she asked the elf.
Pebbles nodded eagerly before she vanished and just after a few seconds she was back with a tray carrying two cups and a cattle. She placed it on the coffee table cautiously.
"Thank you!" ,Narcissa said, "Would you please get started on dinner?"
Pebbles gave a small bow before she vanished with a plop, leaving Draco and Narcissa in a fragile silence. His mother poured the tea with practiced grace, the delicate clink of porcelain the only sound in the vast, empty room.
Draco sipped his tea, the warmth doing little to ease the knot of anxiety twisting tighter in his chest. He hadn't mentioned the court's delay to his mother yet, not wanting to add to her worries. But the waiting was suffocating.
"So mum…" ,Draco sighed. He knew that her hesitation didn’t mean good news. "How is dad?"
"He‘s in really bad shape." ,she explained, her eyes glued to the floor.
"Okay." ,Draco nodded. His pulse rose higher and higher, but he breathed deeply and tried his best to focus and that.
"But I spoke with the family lawyer yesterday," Narcissa said softly, breaking the silence. "He said they’re expecting a decision soon. But you know how slow they can be."
Draco nodded, his jaw clenched. "They’ve taken long enough already. I don’t understand what the hold-up is. It’s a simple request."
His mother gave him a small, tired smile. "You know the Ministry, darling. Nothing is ever simple when it comes to Lucius."
Draco set his cup down, feeling restless. He stood and walked toward the window, looking out over the familiar, expansive gardens of Malfoy Manor. The memories here were heavy, but the absence of his father was heavier still. "He deserves to see me, Mum. He’s been in Azkaban long enough. It’s inhumane."
Narcissa’s expression tightened, though she remained calm. "I know. But we have to be patient. These things take time. But you know, I‘m there as often as they let me and we talk about you all the time."
Draco huffed, running a hand through his hair. Patience had never been his strong suit, especially not when it came to his father. As flawed as Lucius Malfoy was, Draco still needed to see him. To talk to him.
Just as the tension seemed to swell between them, a soft plop was heard.
"Dinner, Mrs. Narcissa!" ,Rock announced.
"Thank you, my dear." ,his mum said, "Will you and your sister join us?"
Rock nodded and together they all walked to the dining room. Draco felt his pulse slowly settling again. Maybe during dinner they could focus on something positive.
The table was set beautifully and they all sat down together. Rock snapped his fingers and water appeared in all of the glasses. Draco remembered that it used to be wine, atleast for his mother, but ever since his dad‘s diagnosis he hadn‘t seen his mum drink even a single drop of alcohol.
As they all started to fill their plates Narcissa remembered: "I visited Andromeda a few days ago… Teddy is such a lovely boy! He reminds me of my sister when she was younger in many ways, possibly Nymphadora was the same."
Draco chuckled and took a bite of the food.
"You know that she hated it, when people called her Nymphadora?" ,Draco said.
"I can‘t call her Tonks, Draco!" ,his mother said and shook her head vehemently. "That‘s my sisters last name!"
"I called every Weasley Weasley, until I befriended them at least." Draco said, "Somehow I still managed to keep them apart." Narcissa chuckled softly as suddenly a sharp knock echoed through the manor.
"Who could that be?" ,she murmured.
Pebbles disapparated and apparated instantly, her large eyes wide as she returned. "Mrs. Narcissa, Mr. Hornsby is here to see you. Shall I let him in?"
Draco felt his stomach drop. The lawyer. He exchanged a quick glance with his mother, whose expression remained poised, though he could sense the ripple of concern behind her eyes.
"Yes, Pebbles," Narcissa said, her voice steady. "Let him in please."
Moments later, Geoffrey Hornsby, the Malfoy family’s long-serving lawyer, stepped into the room. His tailored suit and old-fashioned spectacles gave him a distinguished look, though his normally impassive face seemed unusually solemn today.
"Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy," Hornsby greeted them with a small bow. "I apologize for arriving unannounced, but I have news regarding Lucius’s case."
Draco’s heart quickened as his mother nodded.
"Let’s go into the salon." ,she said to the lawyer, before turning to the still a little confused houseelves again. "Pebbles, Rock, continue with dinner. But please cast a warmth and freshness charm for Draco’s and mine."
As Narcissa, Draco and Mr. Hornsby walked over to the salon, remained composed. But after he and his mother sat down on the sofa again, she grabbed her teacup again and Draco could see her fingers tremble.
"Please, sit," Narcissa said, gesturing to a chair. "Tell us what you’ve learned." Hornsby nodded, lowering himself into the big arm chair with a sigh. He adjusted his glasses, looking at them both with a mixture of professionalism and unease.
"I’ve just come from the Ministry," Hornsby began, his voice slow and deliberate. "Unfortunately, the court has decided not to allow Mr. Draco Malfoy to visit Mr. Lucius Malfoy at this time. They believe it would be... disruptive, considering his past involvement with the war."
Draco’s chest constricted. "What?" he breathed, his voice tight with disbelief. "They’re denying me access to see my own father?"
Hornsby nodded grimly. "For the time being, yes. However..." He paused, glancing at Narcissa. "There is some hope. The court has mentioned they are considering a humanitarian release, given Mr. Malfoy’s declining health and the fact that he’s already served a significant portion of his sentence."
"A humanitarian release..." Narcissa echoed softly, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she set her teacup down only to put her hand on Draco‘s knee. "What does that mean for us?"
"They’ll review the case in two weeks," Hornsby explained. "If they find that his health has deteriorated enough to warrant early release on humanitarian grounds, he could be freed under strict conditions."
Draco’s head was spinning. Two weeks? Another two weeks of waiting? It was too much.
"And if they deny the release?" Draco asked, his voice sharp.
Hornsby’s expression tightened. "Then he remains in Azkaban … remainder of his sentence, …bodily conditions … for the remainder of his life."
Draco could barely hear Mr. Hornsby‘s words. The lawyer‘s voice became distant, a muffled drone in the background, as if Draco‘s mind had retreated far from the room. His pulse was thunderous in his ears, his vision started to blur and he felt a tightness crawling up from his stomah to his throat. A tightness he hadn‘t felt in years. A high note kept ringing in his ears and he felt like the walls were closing in around him.
"Draco?" His mother‘s voice cut through, but it felt miles and miles away.
He shot up from the sofa, his teacup slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor. Only then the lawyer stopped talking about all those complicated conditions, restrictions and whatnot. But Draco couldn‘t hear anything. He needed air. He needed to get out.
Before anyone could stop him Draco strode from the room, his movements jerky and unsteady. His feet carried him towards the nearest exit. His breath was coming fast, too fast, and his chest was heaving as though he‘d been running a marathon.
Finally.
He burst through the door out into the garden. The cool evening air hit him, but it wasn‘t enough to clear his head.
His legs felt like they were made of lead and putty at the same time. He felt so heavy and yet so soft and unstable. The familiar sight of the large oak tree loomed ahead, but his vision was blurry. Just now Draco realized that hot tears streamed down his cheeks. His body was letting him down, his mind was betraying him.
Reaching the tree, Draco collapsed to his knees. His back against the rough bark as his hands shook violently. He clenched his fists, trying to stay them. He clenched his fists so hard, that his nails pressed into his palms leaving little crescent marks. But it didn‘t work. His breath hitched as he nearly choked on his own spit and tears. His chest felt like it was being crushed, like invisible hands were pressing down on him, trying to squeeze to life out of him.
He tried to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
But the more he concentrated on his breathing, the more he felt like he was suffocating. His lungs burned and his heart pounded so hard it might as well work it‘s way through his ribcage and out into the open.
Draco clawed at his collar, desperate to loosen it. It felt like his clothes were strangling him, every fiber was too tight, too oppressive. He tugged at his collar, ripping of the first two buttons, but it didn‘t help.
His breathing turned into shallow, ragged gasps, tears still streaming down his face. His mind raced, thoughts darting like frenzied birds, too fast to catch. The court… his dad… two more weeks… remainder of his life. What if his father would die and the last words Draco said to him were spoken out of anger? What if his father would die in Azkaban? Alone? Scared? In pain?
The panic surged, overwhelming him. He bent forward, curling into himself.
I can‘t breathe - I can‘t breathe - I can‘t -
His hands were trembling so violently he could barely grip his phone, but somehow, through sheer instinct, he fumbled it out of his pocket. His shaking fingers swiped across the screen, the letters blurring as he scrolled his contacts. He probably shouldn‘t call. But there was only one name he could think of in the midst of this.
Harry.
Draco barely managed to hit the call button before his vision swam again, black spots dancing at the edges of his sight. His heart felt like it was going to explode, the pressure in his chest unbearable.
It rang once. Twice.
The line clicked. Harry‘s familiar voice came through: "Draco?"
"Harry," he rasped into the phone, his voice barely audible. "I can‘t - breathe."
Draco heard papers shuffling around and a chair scraping over the floor. "Draco? Where are you?"
"The Manor," Draco choked out, his throat tightening further. "In the garden... I - I can’t - "
"I’m coming," Harry said, his tone instantly firm and decisive. "Stay where you are. I’ll be there in a minute. Stay with me, Draco. Just hold on. I‘m coming."
Draco didn’t have the strength to respond. The phone slipped from Draco‘s grasp, falling to the grass beside him, his head resting against the rough bark of the tree as his breaths came in shallow gasps. His head was spinning and the ground felt like it was shifting beneath him. His vision blurred again, blackening around the edges, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ground himself, but it was no use.
He thought for a moment that he might faint.
He didn‘t heart the soft plop of apparition, but suddenly Harry was there.
"Draco, look at me. Look at me." Harry was kneeling beside Draco, his hands gently cupping Draco’s face, forcing him to look up. Draco’s eyes fluttered open and slowly Harry’s face came into focus. Those beautiful green eyes were filled with concern, but his voice was calm, steady.
"Breathe, Draco," Harry urged, his thumbs brushing Draco’s cheeks. "Just breathe. I’m here."
Harry was cradling Draco‘s face gently. He was speaking softly, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of Draco‘s mind.
"Breathe with me, okay? In… and out… In… and out… Slowly. You can do it."
Draco tried to focus on Harry’s voice, on the warmth of his touch, but the panic was still clawing at him, making it hard to focus.
"I can‘t -" Draco‘s throat still felt so closed.
"Yes, you can." Harry‘s grip on him tightened. Not painfully, but enough to hold him, to keep him grounded.
"Listen to my voice, Draco. Just focus on me."
Harry pressed his forehead gently against Draco‘s. Their breath mingling as he guided Draco through it.
"In… and out. In… and out. That‘s it." Harry said.
Draco‘s breath hitched again, but slowly, very slowly, the suffocating pressure in his chest began to ease. He focused on Harry‘s breathing, matching the rhythm as best as he could.
"It‘s okay." Harry whispered. "You‘re okay. I‘ve got you."
Slowly, the world started to come back into focus and Draco’s head stopped spinning. For the first time in what felt like hours he drew in a full breath.
Harry shifted, pulling Draco against him, one arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Draco sagged into him, exhausted, his head resting against Harry‘s chest. He could hear Harry‘s heartbeat, steady and strong, and he clung to it like a lifeline, his own ragged breaths slowly evening out.
When Draco finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "I thought I was going to…" He swallowed harshly, breathing in the familiar soothing smell of Harry.
"I know. But you‘re safe now. I‘ve got you." ,Harry murmured.
"I‘m so sorry I called you. I shouldn‘t have. I know that‘s not fair to you. But… You were the only person I could think of…"
Harry shook his head before Draco could even finish the sentence, his hand moving up to gently stroke through Draco‘s hair.
"Don‘t be sorry," he whispered, his voice firm but tender. "You don‘t ever apologize for calling me."
Draco closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of Harry‘s heartbeat calm him down for some more minutes.
"I meant what I said last week. Every word." Harry started speaking again. Draco slowly lifted himself up from Harry’s chest to look at him. "I realized, that there is nothing more important in this world than us. I meant it, when I told you, I‘m here. I won‘t disappear ever again. I won‘t ever burry myself in work again. And most certainly I won‘t ever cheat on you again."
Harry‘s voice was unwavering, filled with a quiet intensity.
Draco swallowed. "I‘m sorry, Harry."
Harry looked confused at Draco, but before he could ask Draco already continued explaining.
"I said mean things. And I did bad things. You didn‘t deserve to be treated like that and I should‘ve been better with communicating my needs."
Harry smiled gently. "Apology more than accepted, Draco," he softly cradled Draco‘s cheek again. In his palm he felt the tear stained, hot skin. "You were there for me when I needed you, now let me be there for you." Harry‘s hand moved to cradle the back of Draco‘s head gently, bringing their foreheads together again.
Draco nodded softly and closed his eyes in relaxation.
They stayed like this for some time. Draco placed his hand on Harry‘s chest, felt the beating heart and steadied himself some more.
"I really want to kiss you right now, Harry," he confessed.
Draco wouldn‘t need to say that twice. Harry smiled softly as he gently laid his lips on Draco‘s.
It felt like coming home.
The kiss was slow, tender, and full of all the unspoken emotions they had both been carrying for far too long. It wasn‘t rushed or desperate. It wasn‘t a powerplay to gain control. It was grounding, an anchor in the storm that had passed.
Draco felt the weight of the world slip away as Harry‘s warmth surrounded him, making everything else feel distant and unimportant.
For the first time in weeks, Draco‘s heart wasn‘t pounding from panic or anxiety - it was pounding from something far sweeter. He melted into the kiss, his hand still pressed against Harry‘s chest, feeling the steady heartbeat beneath his fingers. It was a reminder that, despite everything, Harry would be there.
When they finally pulled back, their foreheads rested against each other once more, breathing the same air, neither willing to break the closeness. Draco‘s lips were still tingling from the touch and he couldn‘t help but let out a small, shake laugh.
"Feels like we‘ve been chasing this moment for months," Draco whispered, his eyes fluttering open to meet Harry‘s gaze.
Harry smiley, his fingers brushing lightly through Draco‘s hair.
"But we‘re here now. And I‘m not letting go."
Draco knew now, in this moment, that no matter how rocky things had been, no matter the misunderstandings, they could weather anything together.
"I love you," Draco whispered, his hand curling into Harry‘s shirts, holding onto him as though he was afraig he might slip away.
"I love you," Harry answered with a sure and steady voice.
They stayed like that, wrapped in each others embrace under the oak tree, the world outside the garden slipping away entirely.
In that moment, nothing else mattered - just the two of them.
Together.