The second Harry passed through the tall gates of Hogwart's, he heard the distinct crack of Apparation from somewhere behind him. He stopped and turned around, unconcerned, wondering if Lucius had decided to follow him after all.
Unfortunately his lapse in 'constant vigilance' cost him dearly in reaction time.
Two tall, burly men were facing him, wands pointed, terrifyingly ugly expressions on both of their faces.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Harry didn't even have time to cry out; the two spells struck him in quick succession, causing him to inhale sharply before his wand flew into their outstretched hands and his immobilised body fell to the ground, barely making a sound as he came to rest on the snow-covered terrain.
The only movement the spell afforded him was the ability to swivel his eyes to the two attackers and wait to see what they would do next, pulse racing.
Both men had to be over six feet in height, both with dark hair and wearing nearly identical brown cloaks that were a little threadbare in places. They had their wands out and trained on him as they approached, the tension visibly easing from their shoulders with every step now that Harry was sprawled out on the ground and incapable of defending himself.
They stopped next to him and glanced at each other, having some sort of silent conversation that Harry wasn't privy to. Harry inwardly cursed the fact that he couldn't even speak, couldn't even demand to know what they were doing or why. The two men didn't look familiar and they didn't seem in any hurry to fill him in either as they continued their silent discussion.
Finally, one of them pocketed Harry's wand while the other man suddenly raised his own wand and pointed it directly between Harry's eyes.
Harry felt his heart stop at the evil intent on the man's face right before he cast.
"Crucio!"
Harry had never felt pain like this before; the fact that he couldn't move because of the body-bind curse, couldn't even try to escape the absolute agony, made the torturous spell that much worse. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as the pain tore through his petrified body. He just had to lie there and take it as what felt like thousands of bolts of electricity jolted through his body combined with the sensation of sharp knives tearing at his insides.
It seemed to go on and on and on…
"Finite Incantatem."
Both spells lifted simultaneously and Harry was suddenly freed from the body-bind spell as well as being released from the torment of the Cruciatus Curse. The after-effects were such though that he could only lie there; panting, eyes stinging with tears, as they stared wordlessly down at him. The snow was beginning to burn against the skin of his cheek as he lay there, inhaling panicked gulps of air as his body shuddered through the aftershocks.
The two men didn't say anything, not a single word, and Harry didn't have the strength to speak, let alone attempt to disarm them wandlessly.
"Crucio!"
Harry choked on a cry of shock as he was once again put under the Cruciatus Curse. This time his body was free to writhe in the snow unconstrained, limbs stiffening and twisting at odd angles as he was gripped in absolute agony, neck arching back and mouth open in a scream that he couldn't have held back if he'd wanted to.
The man calmly kept his wand on him without wavering; bright blue eyes watching Harry thrash and struggle impassively.
It went on for so long that Harry began to see white spots behind clenched eyelids before suddenly, thankfully, losing consciousness.
His awareness returned slowly as he felt his aching body being dragged through the snow. The residual pain was almost as bad as the curse itself; as though every cell in his body was still crying out in distress. His head lolled on his neck and he could do nothing but squint blearily up at the dark sky above him. His glasses had obviously come off at some point and his poor vision only served to increase the feeling of helplessness washing over him. It was cold and dark and he had no wand, no strength, and he was outnumbered and hopelessly outweighed by the two brawny wizards.
The tight grip on his wrists suddenly disappeared and he dropped to the ground, left to lie limp and gasping in the snow. A spell was cast next to him followed by a strange shattering sound, almost like breaking glass.
After a moment of inaction, Harry was able to gather the strength needed to open his eyes. He was quickly able to ascertain by the dark towers of blurred lights in the distance that the men had actually brought him closer to Hogwarts rather than away and off the grounds. Before he had time to wonder why, the men were back and roughly lifting him from the snow.
Harry's heart stopped as he was suddenly, without warning, flung through the air, arms automatically wind-milling in alarm as he fell through dark, empty space.
He inhaled in shock as his body was suddenly immersed in freezing cold water.
The lake. They'd tossed him into The Great Lake.
Harry sank a few metres down in the pitch black water before his momentum slowed and he was able to put his arms out to stop his descent. He panicked for a moment; not knowing which way was up, then quickly clamped down on his terror and forced his sluggish brain and Crucio-addled body to relax.
As soon as his panic receded a little, he was able to feel his body rise on its own towards what must be the direction of the surface, and he quickly kicked his feet and paddled his arms to assist.
He had his eyes open but it was so dark and murky that he couldn't see a thing. The arctic temperature of the water was burning his skin and quickly stiffening his muscles, but at least the cold and fear distracted him from the lingering curse pain.
Harry quickly shucked off his heavy cloak as he swam upwards and left it drifting behind him, lost to the shadowy depths of the large lake below. He could tell he was nearing the surface and clenched his jaw as he gave a couple of powerful kicks to increase his speed. He was sure the men would still be there, waiting for him, but he didn't have a choice; it was either breach the surface of the lake or drown.
A sudden jarring impact to the top of Harry's head had him seeing stars.
He stopped swimming, his lungs beginning to burn in his chest. He raised his arms up over his head and tentatively reached out with his hands. His fingers came into contact with a thick, knobbly layer of ice. He moved his hands through the water, sliding over the ice in every direction, trying to locate the hole in which he'd fallen through.
And then it hit him: the breaking noise earlier had been the men making a hole in the ice - and they must have sealed it again once they'd tossed him through.
He kept searching, hands frantically scrabbling at the dense layer of ice, panic beginning to set in as he came up with nothing but more and more ice; so thick that he didn't have a hope of breaking through it.
He tried to gather his magic in a desperate attempt at casting wandlessly but almost cried out at the ensuing pain that rippled through his body with the effort. The Cruciatus Curse had definitely done the job they'd intended.
Harry instantly reared back with his right arm and punched the ice as hard as he possibly could, uncaring of whether he broke every bone in his hand to do so. The shock of the hit reverberated painfully up his arm, and definitely did some damage to the bones in his hand, but did absolutely nothing to the ice.
Harry knew he was out of time, he couldn't hold his breath any longer and his limbs were now so cold that he could barely feel them let alone move them.
He couldn't believe after everything he'd been through, that this was how it was all going to end; murdered at the hands of a couple of nobodies for reasons he didn't even bloody know.
They wouldn't even find his body for months - if at all. It was only October and the snow wouldn't be properly melted until February or March…
Harry felt a sudden flare of hope within his chest.
It was only October; the lake wasn't safe to skate on until usually December or January, that meant that the centre of the lake wouldn't be frozen solid yet…
Harry forced his stiff body to start moving. He felt uncoordinated and slow but he pushed onwards with fresh determination, this would work, he was sure of it.
A surge of bubbles escaped his mouth as his lungs forcibly pushed out the single breath he'd been holding. He clamped his lips shut again, lungs burning and nearly empty, and pressed on. He was beginning to feel light-headed and dizzy but held onto his consciousness with the same resolve and fortitude that had kept him alive so many times before.
'Don't stop moving, just keep going, keep going, keep going,' he chanted over and over again in his head like a frantic mantra.
He dragged one hand along the underside of the ice as he struggled along, the texture of the ice changing noticeably as he moved; from smooth and slick to grainy and rough. Soon enough his nails were able to actually dig in and chip away little bits of ice.
Spots were beginning to dance before his eyes and he could no longer feel any part of his body as he did a kind of a jerky, clumsy swimming motion to keep himself moving forward. The last of his breath left his body in another surge of bubbles, his mouth automatically opening and inhaling icy-cold water which flooded down his throat and entered his lungs.
It was now or never.
Harry stopped and used the last of his strength to once again punch at the ice, using his uninjured left hand this time. Even though it was a weak hit, it still managed to split the thin layer of ice and he quickly surged up to shove his head through the small opening. The rest of the fragile surface fell away, some of the ice cutting his skin and ears, but allowing him to take in a huge gulp of desperately needed air.
He coughed up the water he'd inhaled and his throat burned as he tried to catch his breath in between bouts of choking. The blackness instantly cleared from the corners of his vision and his mind felt a little more lucid as he continued to gasp in great uneven breaths.
He couldn't relax for long though, he knew he needed to get out of the water - and fast.
Harry began to propel himself onwards towards the other side of the lake, feeling heavy and weak as he continued to slowly break through the thin layer of ice as he went, like a ship breaking through glacial Antarctic waters. He kept swimming until he finally hit the dense ice that surrounded the outskirts of the Great Lake.
It took him a few attempts to lift his exhausted arms out of the water in order to place his hands on the surface of the ice. He winced as he put pressure on his injured right hand, but it was just a drop in the bucket compared to the pain of everything else in that moment.
Harry took a deep breath and pushed himself up, the buoyancy of the water helping immensely to lift his weary, water-logged body up out of the lake so that he could slide his knee up onto the ice. He fought to tip his weight sideways, away from the edge, until his body finally overbalanced and he was able to fall onto his back on the ice, gasping from the effort.
He closed his eyes as he lay there breathless and panting, his body beginning to twitch and shiver out of his control. His trousers and button-up shirt were soaked through and sticking to his skin, providing no source of warmth whatsoever. He was so cold but so tired too.
He knew it was a dangerous thing to want to give in to the urge to sleep in his situation. He forced his eyes open and lifted his head to glance back over to the opposite shore, trying to detect any hint of movement to ascertain whether his two attackers were still there. He couldn't see anything, not a lantern or even a faint wand Lumos, but in the dark and without his glasses it was difficult to know for sure.
Harry lay there for what felt like two minutes, but may in actual fact have been closer to twenty, by the time he gathered the strength of will to push himself over onto his hands and knees and begin the painfully slow process of crawling over the rest of the ice-covered lake towards the snowy shore; half afraid that the ice would give way at any moment and he'd end up back under water.
He knew he wouldn't make it out a second time.
His arms were shaking so badly now that his elbows kept giving out every few steps, nearly sending him chin-first into the hard ice. He stopped every once in a while to rest, careful not to lie down, because he knew it would be too hard to get up again.
What felt like hours later, Harry arrived at the edge of the bank of snow that sloped up from the lake towards Hogwarts, the lights growing clearer and brighter the closer he got.
He pushed onwards, safe in the knowledge that his two attackers had obviously left the scene of the crime, expecting him to have perished beneath the ice, because no one had attempted to stop him yet. His heart clenched at the reminder that the men had his wand, but he would have to worry about that later.
Harry's progress slowed to a snail's pace as he crawled up the hill through the thick layer of heavy snow, sliding backwards every few steps before taking a breath and then pushing onwards.
He paused, chest heaving, staring up towards the school with desperate eyes. It looked so far away. His shivering had actually lessened to almost nothing now, which he thought was probably a bad sign. His whole body felt numb, and his mind was turning to mush again, indistinct thoughts flowing fuzzy and faraway.
Harry set his jaw and continued on. At least the cold numbed the leftover pain from the Cruciatus Curse, as well as what were surely broken bones in his right hand. He tried to stand but instantly stumbled back to his knees; limbs too frozen and weak to hold him up, and head spinning with light-headedness.
He kept his gaze on the looming castle, placing each hand down on the snow, sinking through to his elbow, then placing the next hand down, sinking, drag one knee forward, drag the other knee forward. Lift, place, sink, lift, place, sink, drag, drag. Repeat.
On and on it went until he couldn't even think anymore, his stiff and frozen body moving forward on autopilot.
He was nearly at the footpath that led to the bottom of the stone steps when, with an involuntary whimper, he finally collapsed onto his stomach in the snow. The thought of trying to climb those steps, and then, because it was the middle of the night, he would most likely have to make it all the way up to the Hospital Wing on his own too. It was all just too much to even contemplate. Everyone else would be warmly tucked up in their beds, fast asleep, including his mate. And if his mate was asleep, then he wouldn't be able to detect Harry's distress once he entered the castle like he'd been able to before.
Harry closed his eyes with a sigh. He didn't think he was giving off distress signals anyway, he just felt really, really tired.
He wasn't shivering at all anymore; in fact, he didn't even feel cold anymore, not even where his cheek was resting on top of the snow.
'Just a quick rest and then I'll be ready to move again,' he promised himself muzzily.
He lay there breathing slow and shallow, mind already drifting towards sleep, when he suddenly heard a noise like the clinking of champagne glasses.
His groggy mind supplied him with an image of the Malfoy's party guests coming to Hogwarts to continue the festivities. Maybe they wanted to see Draco.
Harry smiled to himself and pried his frozen eyes open to look down the path that rounded the side of the school. There was a group of people merrily walking along, clinking glasses that sparkled in the reflected lights of the school.
He thought he'd better make some sort of noise or else they wouldn't know he was there. He didn't want to miss out when they went to find Draco to continue the party.
He opened his mouth to call out but nothing happened. He tried a few more times before a raspy 'hey' finally made its way up through his hoarse throat.
Harry watched with satisfaction as the group of people seemed to pause and then began to slowly move towards him.
He blinked as the blob of party-goers approached and reformed into just one person; one tall person holding some wooden boxes which tinkled with the sound of rattling glass. Harry frowned, wondering where the others disappeared to.
"Hello? Is someone there?"
The voice sounded familiar but Harry's fuzzy brain couldn't identify it. He heard the sound of the box of tinkling glasses being shifted around and then set down in the snow. There was a moment of quiet before a bright Lumos suddenly lit up the whole area.
Harry stared at the wand light without even squinting at the brightness of it.
"Harry!" Panicked hands were suddenly on him, turning him over onto his back. "Oh shit, Harry? Harry?"
Now he was being shaken a little.
Harry wanted to reply but all that came out was a harsh, wet-sounding gurgle.
"Fuck."
Neville. It was Neville.
Harry couldn't help but groan a little as he was suddenly gathered up in the Alpha's arms and lifted. He felt so disoriented and had no idea what was going on, his head was spinning dizzily as Neville quickly carried him up the steps and into the school.
Harry inhaled sharply as Neville's body-heat pressed against his frozen form; the sensation of his body beginning to thaw out was absolute agony. He closed his eyes with a muted moan and went limp in Neville's arms, hoping he would just pass out.
"Hang on Harry, please hang on," Neville muttered anxiously from above. "I'll get you to Pomfrey and she'll fix you right up, and I'll get Malfoy too…" he trailed off uncertainly, probably wondering where Harry's mate was and why he hadn't been with him in the first place.
Harry just grit his teeth and remained silent. Everything hurt; everything ached beyond belief, from the cold and the after-effects of the Cruciatus Cruse, to his broken hand and slowly defrosting skin.
The sharp, pungent sting of antiseptic hit his nostrils and he knew they'd finally reached the infirmary.
Neville gently laid him out on a bed and went to fetch Pomfrey. Within minutes, he heard the nurse standing over him, wand out, casting diagnostic spell after diagnostic spell.
He couldn't hear what they were saying to each other but it didn't matter, because after another minute Harry finally - gratefully - lost consciousness.
. . . .
The first thing Harry became aware of again was the sensation of being cocooned in soothing warmth, like being submerged in the most perfect bath; where you are pleasantly, wonderfully warm but not too hot. He basked in the feeling for as long as possible, eyes closed, not allowing his brain to fully rouse. He didn't want to wake from this dream. There was something nagging at a tiny corner of his mind that made him shy away from complete awareness, something that he knew would not be pleasant once remembered.
Unfortunately the tiny niggling reminder wouldn't let go and Harry frowned as it picked away at him until he could no longer ignore it. The soothing warmth was still there but it dawned on him that he should also feel achy and sore and… cold?
After that, it all slammed ruthlessly back into his head: his argument with Draco, the party, the two men, Crucio, being tossed into the lake, and finally Neville carrying him barely conscious to the hospital wing…
He could feel his body beginning to tremble as he remembered the fear he'd felt; that feeling of absolute terror at being trapped under the ice and thinking that he was going to drown. He'd come close to death countless times in his life - and even truly did die on one occasion - but for some reason this one was really hitting him hard.
Perhaps because, for the first time in his life, he had more to lose.
He knew he couldn't ignore reality any longer and, with his mate on his mind, he dragged heavy eyes open.
He was still in the infirmary and it was silent and empty, save for himself and one occupied chair at his bedside.
"Harry."
Harry frowned at the sight of Draco's exhausted face; drawn and paler than usual, with dark violet smudges under his eyes, as though he'd been awake for a week straight.
Harry opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.
"Don't speak," Draco cautioned, scraping his chair forward and reaching out to softly stroke his fingers down the side of Harry's neck. "You need to drink this first," he said before turning to lift a small vial off the bedside cabinet and then holding it to Harry's lips.
Harry eyed the yellow potion before obediently swallowing it. The cool liquid flowed down his throat and soothed away any lingering inflammation, leaving his throat clear and tingly in its wake. He watched as Draco set the empty vial aside before turning back to him, looking as though he didn't quite know what to do with his hands.
It was then Harry noticed that his entire body was wrapped in a thick blanket which seemed to have a permanent warming charm woven into the fabric. That was why he felt as though he were lying in a bath of perfectly warmed water.
Harry cautiously cleared his throat before attempting to speak again. "Can you… can you free my arms please?" he asked in a raspy voice that didn't sound at all like himself.
"Of course." Draco immediately grasped the top edge of the blanket and carefully untucked it before pulling it down and away, releasing Harry's upper body so that he could slide his arms out and lay them on top of the thick covering. He shivered a little at the sudden brush of cool air on his arms through the thin cotton hospital pyjamas.
"Thanks," Harry responded quietly, then hesitantly added, "join me?"
Draco looked surprised but didn't question him.
Harry shifted onto his side as Draco carefully slipped under the covers, their arms and legs automatically entangling as they faced each other across the narrow hospital bed. The action of lifting one arm to wrap around his mate made Harry realise just how exhausted and anaemic his body still felt after his ordeal.
Draco absently brushed a lock of hair back from Harry's forehead, fingertips lingering over the lightning bolt scar, grey eyes tight with emotion as he gazed back at Harry, seeming to drink in the sight of his mate alive and breathing.
"You're not cross with me?" Harry couldn't help asking softly once Draco had dropped his hand away. A part of him was still waiting for his mate to explode over his insolent behaviour.
Draco's expression went slack with surprise. "With you?"
Harry nodded.
"Harry, I..." He shook his head. "You're the one who should be cross with me. I over-reacted, about Blaise. I should've known that forbidding you to do something would only encourage you."
Harry frowned. "But I shouldn't have just left without telling you. Look what happened," he stressed, voice breaking a little on the last word.
Draco's arm tightened around him as he searched Harry's expression intently. "What did happen Harry? Pomfrey said that she found traces of the Cruciatus Curse on you..."
Harry swallowed and dropped his gaze to the collar on Draco's deep blue pyjamas for something to look at other than his mate's troubled expression. "When I left the party at the Manor, two wizards followed me back to Hogwarts and… and attacked me. I don't know why, I don't even know who they were; I don't think they were guests at the party. They didn't speak - except to cast spells."
"What did they do to you?" Draco asked, and Harry glanced up to see that quiet fury had replaced the concern in his mate's eyes.
For some reason, Harry found this emotion much easier to face. It was strange to see Draco so distressed and anxious because of him, even though they were "mated" now, it was still so new to him to have someone else wrapped up in his health and happiness - above anyone else's.
He bit his lip, knowing that going into detail would cause untold feelings of guilt for his mate, but he didn't want to keep it a secret from him either. He tried to describe it as quickly and as emotionlessly as possible. "I Disapparated to Hogwarts and they appeared right behind me almost as soon as I got there. They took my wand and then bound me before casting the first Crucio-"
"First?"
Harry nodded and pushed on before Draco could comment further. "They lifted it and then cursed me again until… until I passed out."
"Harry…" Draco responded, quietly anguished, and Harry suddenly didn't want to say anything else. He wanted Draco to be furious again, not broken.
"Please don't say anything," Harry interjected sharply, closing his eyes. "I can't tell you if you… if you look like that."
He opened his eyes again and Draco's expression had smoothed over. "Go on," he said with a nod.
Harry looked at him a moment and then took a deep breath, something inside of him aching with the inhalation, as though his lungs were slightly bruised.
"Once I was unconscious, they dragged me over to the edge of the Great Lake and threw me in."
Draco's entire body tensed and grey eyes flashed with controlled rage, but his expression remained impassive, lips firmly pressed together.
Harry exhaled and pushed on, trying not to picture the scene in his head but it was impossible; the images appearing bright and vivid before his mind's eye. "They sealed the ice over me and left me to drown," he said, startled by the sudden hot prickle of tears behind his eyes and in the bridge of his nose. "Fuck," he uttered under his breath, turning away in embarrassment to look at the ceiling, blinking rapidly.
Draco's arm tightened around him and Harry quickly turned his face into Draco's warm neck, uncaring of whether it was pathetic or not as he inhaled his mate's scent, letting it wash over him to ease his distress. He sighed and closed his eyes, the tension in his body immediately lessening.
Draco gave him a minute and then quietly, steadily, asked him what happened after he was thrown into the lake.
Harry took a breath and went on to describe how he had managed to escape the ice and crawl up the snow-covered slope to the school steps. He told him how he'd all but given up when Neville had found him, lying in the snow, and then brought him here.
Draco nodded and Harry wondered what he was thinking. He could hear the rapid beating of his mate's heart and noticed how he swallowed several times before speaking again.
"So, these men, did you see what they looked like?"
"Yeah, a bit; they were strong and quite tall, both Alphas I'd say. They both had dark hair and one had bright blue eyes, they may have even been related, brothers perhaps? But I'm not really sure, it… it all happened so fast."
Draco frowned in thought and Harry's gaze slid past him, suddenly noticing that there was an oily sheen to the air surrounding them.
"Er, Draco? Is there a shield charm around us?" he asked uneasily, still feeling a little on edge.
Draco's lips quirked into a slight smirk as he followed Harry's gaze. "Yes, I may have involuntarily erected a shield charm as soon as I saw you unconscious in the hospital bed. And I may have accidentally knocked out Pomfrey and Longbottom in the process - just for a second," he added when Harry's eyes widened. "They're fine. Longbottom left once Pomfrey checked him over for concussion, and then she told me everything she knew so far about your condition."
"She didn't make you remove the shield?" Harry replied in surprise.
"No, she could tell that I wasn't feeling particularly rational, so she let it go. Plus, she knows they haven't caught whoever did this to you so the added protection was a good idea," he added darkly, all trace of amusement gone from his expression.
Harry shivered at his mate's words; the men had been extremely intent on killing him and he didn't think it likely that they would simply give up once they found out he was still alive.
"I'm taking you to the Manor for a few days."
"What?" Harry blinked and looked up at Draco in confusion. "You are?"
"Yes," he replied unfalteringly. "We're leaving tonight, and when we get there I'm going to officially claim you Potter. Then you will have a couple of days to rest with both myself and my parent's to watch over you. You will be safe there, even McGonagall approved the plan."
Harry nodded in agreement - with everything. He knew it was time for Draco to claim him as his, not just to help put off other Alphas but for the added protection as well. Especially now that there were two men out there who intended Harry serious harm. It felt good knowing Draco was right there with him, wanting to protect him, and, strangely enough, it was reassuring having Draco's family looking out for him too.
Harry suddenly let his head fall back against the pillow with a muted groan. "Oh no, your father is going to killme."
Draco arched a brow. "What are you on about?"
"He offered to escort me back to Hogwarts when I was leaving the party and I declined, I told him that I had a friend meeting me at the gates," he said, chagrined.
"You lied?" Draco realised with a frown.
Harry swallowed uncomfortably. "I didn't want to bother him, I didn't think it was a big deal to go on my own. I was just Apparating from the Manor to Hogwarts, I didn't know… I didn't know." He paused, suddenly realising something that hadn't occurred to him before. "Wait a minute, your father can't leave the grounds of the Manor, isn't he still on house-arrest?"
Draco sighed, grey eyes flicking to the closed doors of the infirmary. "Yes, he is," he answered quietly, "but there are a few loop-holes which one may take advantage of if necessary, such as coming and going in another form and then not performing magic away from the Manor grounds. He only does it for emergencies, mind you."
"And taking me home is classified as an emergency?" Harry asked with a raised brow. He wouldn't have thought that Lucius deemed him worthy of such a risk.
"He must have been concerned about your safety without me around to keep an eye on you," Draco reasoned.
"I told him and your mum about Blaise's offer," Harry admitted tentatively, wondering if that was why Lucius had offered to escort him.
"I know, I've already spoken with my mother."
Harry frowned. "How long have I been unconscious?"
"About five hours." Draco shifted on the narrow bed, unconsciously bringing his nose closer to the top of Harry's head and inhaling his mate's scent without even seeming to realise it. "Do you think you're up for travelling now?" he asked, sounding a little anxious to get away. "Mother and Trinket have already taken all of your required potions to the Manor and prepared my room for our arrival. Trinket will return once we're ready for her to collect us."
Harry could see that Draco was restless in his own skin and, for some reason, needed to get to the Manor as soon as possible. Harry found he didn't really wish to be at Hogwarts right then either. He hoped the Aurors managed to capture his attackers before he had to return to school; the thought of spending the remainder of his time at Hogwarts terrified of another lunatic trying to murder him was not a welcome one. He thought he was done with all that.
"Yeah, I'm all right. Let's go," he said resolutely.
The relief on his mate's face was palpable.
Draco slid out of the bed, bare feet silently touching down on the flagstone floor. He turned to help Harry sit up before reaching for a thick, fluffy dressing gown on the chair back and assisting his mate to slip it on over weak and shaky arms. He tied it securely around Harry's waist and then, without another word, scooped Harry up into his arms.
Harry closed his eyes briefly to stop his head from spinning at the movement. Draco was being very careful but it was still disorienting and he exhaled a slow breath before opening his eyes once more. He remained quiet as Draco called for his house-elf. He wasn't going to argue with his mate for taking charge of the situation or for coddling him; he felt as though they both needed it.
Trinket appeared at the end of the bed with a muted pop. She nodded in sombre approval at the sight of Draco holding Harry and then walked over to gently wrap her long fingers around Harry's wrist.
Harry closed his eyes bracingly and they disappeared in a muffled whirl of elf magic.