Harry had booked a twin room for himself and Teddy, and a family room for the three generations of Malfoys at the Royal Shakespeare Hotel in Stratford-upon-Avon. They arrived in good time and spent a lovely, if not somewhat cold, afternoon walking around the town and exploring the landmarks connected to the famous bard. The performance was an evening show at the Swan Theatre and Harry found them a quiet bistro beforehand to enjoy their pre-theatre dinner.
The show itself was remarkable though Harry quietly spent a lot of it watching Draco and Narcissa who were spell bound. It was the first time they had experienced a theatre production and the moment when Romeo climbed up to Juliet's balcony caused both of them to gasp while Juliet's death had both in tears. Unfortunately, the play's archaic language was a little lost on the boys and, after the interval, Teddy had climbed onto Harry's knee and had gone to sleep. Similarly, Scorpius had curled up against Draco and closed his eyes. Harry didn't mind, he thoroughly enjoyed himself.
Afterwards, as they walked along the bank of the River Avon towards the hotel, Narcissa said, 'why don't you two go for a drink and I'll take the boys back. They can share a room with me...'
Harry's stomach immediately knotted and he noticed Draco flush. Merlin, that left Harry and Draco with sharing a room and he couldn't quite believe Narcissa was suggesting it. He tried to reason that it was no different from sharing a dorm room as they'd done at Hogwarts, but no, this was definitely a million miles away from that, even with separate beds.
The boys sleepily agreed, dragging Narcissa away, so Harry led Draco back to 'The Dirty Duck', a pub near the theatre which was renowned for its famous visitors. They spent a contented hour looking at the photos of famous cast members which seemed to cover every inch of the walls with actors from Alan Rickman to Dame Maggie Smith and from Sir Kenneth Branagh to Ralph Fiennes. Not that Draco knew who any of them were but Harry found himself rather awestruck as they spotted actors like Gary Oldman, Helen McCrory, Imelda Staunton, Timothy Spall, Emma Thompson, Helena Bonham Carter, David Tennant and even Sir Michael Gambon, who were all pictured with the landlord or who had sent in their signed photos after strutting the boards in the Stratford theatres.
As they sat at their table, their drinks slowly dwindling down, Harry took a deep breath to ask the one question that had been bothering him. 'Draco, will you tell me what the nerve damage means for you, what it means for the future?'
'Is this you deciding whether you can take on a disabled me?'
'Draco, I can take you on whatever the situation, I just want to understand so I can be there for you. I need to you to be open with me and not hide what's going on. How often do you have to take the meds?'
'Only when I have a bad episode.' Draco sighed. 'It's hard to say it aloud, Harry, because it means admitting I've been permanently damaged by what my father and Bellatrix have done to me. And there are times when I'm so disabled by what has happened: I constantly shake with various degrees of severity; I can't grasp and control small things like a Quill and I'll never be able to catch a Snitch again, not with the combination of those two. There are times when I ache internally like I have arthritis; or when my senses play up and disorientate me. The most frustrating thing is I'm just not strong enough to do certain things, I just can't build the muscle strength. You saw the other day I could only manage half-an-hour of Quidditch.' He sighed wistfully. 'It's pretty hard, you know how I used to fly at school. I've been told it's not degenerative so I won't get worse as I age, nor will it shorten my life expectancy. But Harry, you mustn't treat me with kid gloves like some Victorian invalid with consumption. I'm quite capable, I'm still me, I'm still intelligent, I still want to satisfy my urges,' he paused, and then added, 'with you. I just can't carry you up the stairs and throw you onto the bed and the one thing I need to control constantly is how tired I get. When I'm exhausted, my symptoms worsen dramatically, as you saw when we were up in the mountains.'
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Confessions of an Ex-Death-Eater
FanfictionA Drarry Story. While Draco is confined to the manor on house arrest, he writes his story, publishes it, then shuts himself away from the wizarding world. Some nine and a half years later, Harry is about to leave the university where he works as a P...
