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Summary
“Fuck, no, no, Merlin Harry—”
His voice cracked, his whole body trembling as he pulled Harry against his chest, shielding him from the world far too late. Draco’s hands ghosted over his skin, shaking, frantic, not knowing where to touch, how to hold him, afraid that if he gripped too tightly, Harry would shatter.
As if he wasn’t already broken.
Draco sobbed, the sound raw, desperate, pressed into Harry’s hair, his forehead, his ruined skin.
Harry didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t react.
He only lay there, limp, silent, letting Draco fall apart for him. Because he could not afford to fall apart himself.
Or
Voldemort had won. He kept Harry captive as his victory trophy and instructed Draco to take care of him.
And Draco, regrets of accepting this.
Series
- Part 2 of Harry Potter Whump