Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Ships:
Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
Genres:
Slash Angst
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 03/18/2003
Updated: 08/21/2003
Words: 70,367
Chapters: 11
Hits: 277,324

Beautiful World

Cinnamon

Story Summary:
Draco is afraid of living and Harry is afraid of dying, but sometimes the choice isn't offered. Draco's got to learn what it is to really live, while showing Harry how beautiful the world really is when you're not too scared to see it.

Chapter 09

Chapter Summary:
Draco is afraid of living and Harry is afraid of dying, but sometimes the choice isn't offered. Draco's got to learn what it is to really live, while showing Harry how beautiful the world really is when you're not too scared to see it.
Posted:
07/14/2003
Hits:
17,424
Author's Note:
Just, for the record, Beautiful World is AU now, because of OotP, obviously. Thanks for reading!

Beautiful World
CHAPTER 9

"I think I've done something really stupid."

Sirius looked stunned and then, slowly, relieved. Harry felt a vague stirring of guilt at that. "Harry," he said. "I wasn't expecting you. Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I should." He slipped into the room and collapsed in the armchair he always sat on during his sessions with Sirius, and sighed. "I just… I needed to talk to someone."

The blind fury had sustained him until he'd walked into Hogwarts alone and realized that he had just left Draco alone in the forest, bleeding, and then Harry had panicked. He needed to talk to someone about… about Draco. Someone who wouldn't think ‘Oh god, but it's Draco Malfoy'. And, since someone like that wasn't readily available, he had gone to Sirius, who at least, hopefully, would listen, and not dash off to beat up Draco or something.

Sirius looked uncertain, the need to be there for Harry warring with what he figured Responsible Parenting was. He wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to do; Sirius never was when it came to Harry. "Right," Sirius said finally, setting his book aside. "Are you alright?"

He'd be allowed to stay then. Harry sighed in relief and then said, "No. Uhh, right now? No. I think I've done something stupid."

"I'm sure it's not that bad, Harry. I did lots of stupid things when I was your age. What happened? If it's skipping class you're worried about, I'll tell Dumbledore you were with me and you won't —"

"Draco kissed me last night in the lake and then I woke up in his bed and panicked and ran away but he came after me and we were in this field and I kissed him and we umm did umm we umm I… then he said something and I got mad and hit him and made him bleed and just left him there." He sucked in a deep breath, having blurted all that out as quickly as he could without pausing to breathe.

Sirius blinked slowly. "Draco… Malfoy kissed you?"

His eyes closed and Harry took a deep breath. Please let him have heard more than the first three words I said, he prayed. He didn't know if he had the courage to repeat it.

Sirius must have understood this, because he said quickly, "Umm, well. Alright. Alright, that's not so bad. Was he… was he drunk?"

"No."

"Were you drunk?"

"No." Softer now.

"…Did you…kiss him back?"

"Yes." Softer still.

"…I see." There was a thoughtful pause and Harry just knew that Sirius was carefully considering how to proceed. He supposed it wasn't fair of him, being so stubborn these last few weeks and then now just dropping this huge mess at his feet. That just reminded him of everything that Draco had said, and he swallowed carefully to hold back a low whimper. "Alight," Sirius said carefully. "What did… what did he say to you? Did he say something hurtful?"

"He said… he said that I was only doing it because I was angry and wanted to add it to my list of things I'd done that I wasn't supposed to. He… he said that…" His voice got quiet. "That maybe I could be a selfish prat to everyone else but not to him. Then I hit him and he was bleeding and I said that… umm, I should have known better than to expect him to understand, I had forgotten who I was talking to."

Sirius winced and Harry sniffled. "Then you left?"

"Uh huh."

"Do you know if he came back yet?"

"I don't know."

There was silence for a long time, another silence in which Harry waited patiently for the fatherly advice he wasn't sure Sirius was capable of giving, and Sirius cautiously weighed each of his words. Harry wondered, with a morbid sort of humour, if Sirius wished Harry had come here to talk about death and dying rather than his love life.

Well, sort of love life. More like hormone life. Hormone? More than that. More like… like…

He scowled and looked away. Whatever it was, Sirius probably didn't want to hear about it. "I should go," he said, standing up quickly.

"Harry, wait!"

"What?"

Their eyes met, and Sirius bit his lip. An endless moment, and then he tossed Harry a small, almost devious grin. "Ya want me to rough him up a bit for breaking your heart?"

Another endless second, Harry's mouth hanging open, his eyes wide. "Excuse me?"

Sirius, still grinning a bit, was shaking his head, snickering. "Sit down, Harry, honestly. You came here to talk, let's talk."

"About what?"

"You came to talk about Malfoy. So tell me about him."

Shifting awkwardly, Harry mumbled, "What do you want to know?" He fell heavily into his chair.

"Well, for starters, allow me to go parental on you for a moment. You woke up in his bed?"

"Well, yeah. Umm. But we didn't. Not until in the… well I guess… since you're being parental… I shouldn't tell you…" He frowned.

"Right. Well. Alright. Forget that parental shit. I suck at it, honestly."

Feeling rather relieved, Harry relaxed. "Right." Then, after a pause, Harry said, "He didn't… he didn't break my heart."

"Did you break his?"

Another long silence, and then, in a tiny voice, Harry whispered, "I think so." His voice cracked and he sniffled, turning away. "I hit him!"

"I'm sure he's alright," Sirius said gently.

"You don't understand! He's… He's… We're friends!"

"Friends who spend the night —" he cut himself off at Harry's glare, and said quickly, "Right, right. Friends."

"I just… I can't believe that he would say that I was just with him because I wasn't supposed to be."

"Well, why are you with him? I mean, no offence, Harry, but it is a rather big coincidence that it's only after… after Dumbledore told you everything, that you and Malfoy got so close…"

Harry swallowed hard and then said quietly, "Maybe it is just another consequence of finding out all of this. Maybe. But then… but then why is it automatically assumed that any consequence of this has to be bad?"

Sirius looked surprised at that. "I guess… I guess not."

"And being with Draco isn't a bad thing. Maybe it's technically supposed to not happen, but that's not why it did. It happened because I needed it to. I mean, if it hadn't, I think I'd have… have gone mad."

"Then go and find him, Harry. Tell him all of that. If he can help you when no one else can right now, don't let him go."

"You helped," Harry said quietly. "You did, Sirius."

Sirius shrugged a bit, but he was smiling a little, his eyes sad. "We're all trying to help."

Uncomfortable, Harry nodded and got out of his chair. "I've got to go find Draco."

"Yeah. Come back soon, alright?"

"Maybe. I mean, yeah." He nodded and slipped out of the room.

***

Draco was in the library, asleep on an opened book. For a moment, Harry was surprised, and then he remembered that Draco hadn't slept at all the night before. Still, he was a little hurt that while he was spilling his heart to Sirius, Draco had come here to the library to study. Harry's bag, which he'd left in the field, was sitting on the floor by Draco's chair.

He slipped into the chair across from Draco and studied him. He looked younger when he slept, younger and more vulnerable. His lip was still cut, crusted with blood, and Harry wondered why he hadn't charmed it better. Then he touched the scars on his arm and wondered if maybe Draco hadn't wanted to forget the same way Harry didn't, when he let his arm bleed.

And then he noticed the book Draco was sleeping on. Wizarding Rites of Passage. There, partially covered by Draco's hand, was a drawing of a flat-bottomed boat, flames licking up the sides of it.

"Oh," Harry whispered. Not studying, then.

He brushed the hair off Draco's forehead and sighed. "Draco? Draco, wake up, we have to talk."

Moaning a bit, Draco flinched away from his hand, stubbornly refusing to wake up. Guilt made Harry's lower lip start trembling a bit. After all, this was his fault. Draco being so exhausted, Draco's lip being cut, the bruises forming around the swollen lip…

"Right… Alright. It's alright. But you're not sleeping here." He cast a lightening charm and carefully lifted Draco out of the chair, one arm bracing the other boy's back, the other under his knees.

Draco's head fell against Harry's shoulder, and his eyes fluttered open and looking at Harry sleepily. "What… what are you doing?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

"Shh. Go back to sleep."

Smiling a bit, Draco made an agreeable noise and snuggled his face into the side of Harry's neck, closing his eyes again.

No one saw them as Harry carried Draco back to Slytherin House. He remembered the password from that morning and moments later, was carefully setting Draco down in his bed, picking the sheet up off the floor and smoothing it over him. He studied Draco for a long moment and then kissed his cheek and left quietly.

***

Draco woke suddenly, eyes flying open and breath catching in his throat. For a long moment, he didn't remember where he was or what had happened or anything. The familiar shapes of his room calmed him, however, and he sat up, touching his aching mouth and wincing.

It was near dusk now, he could tell by the way the shadows fell across the floor. Vague memories of Harry carrying him to bed were unfolding in his mind and he frowned. "Harry?" he whispered, but Harry wasn't there. "Oh, I swear, if you've run off again…"

He got out of bed and left the room, not caring that his hair was standing up wildly or that he still had lines on his face from his pillow. The common room was full of people who gawked when he walked through, but no one spoke. He didn't care, really, he had nothing to say to them.

He found Harry at the lake, sitting at the end of the pier and smoking one of the Marlboro Lights from the night they'd gone to Hogsmeade.

For a long moment, Draco didn't say anything, just watched Harry suck on the cigarette and wince at the taste, before letting the smoke out and grimacing.

"Hey," he called quietly, and Harry jumped a bit, glancing over his shoulder.

"I didn't see you there," he said nervously.

"I know." Draco came and sat beside him on the pier, and Harry shifted over a bit so there was room.

It was quiet for a while, and then Harry said in a muffled voice, "I shouldn't have—"

"It's alright."

Silence again. "Does it hurt?"

"My lip?"

"Yeah."

"Not as bad as when you cracked my head on the floor."

Harry smiled at him weakly. "Do you want me to charm it better for you?"

Shifting his eyes away awkwardly, Draco swallowed. "If you want to."

He was surprised when Harry's fingertips touched his jaw and tilted his face towards him. Then, gently tracing the cut and the bruises, Harry's eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. "I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes flickering up to Draco's and then away.

"Forget it," Draco said softly. "Harry…"

"What?"

"I was just scared. I shouldn't have said that."

"Scared? You're not scared of anything," Harry said, lips twisting in a sad smile.

"I was scared of that."

"Of what?"

"Of… this. You. And that you might not… that it was all just a reaction to everything. That I was falling for you and you were just doing it because you were pissed off."

Harry blinked, startled. "Falling for me?"

"Oh come on, Harry!" Draco cried, exasperated. "And you said I could be dense sometimes!"

Turning to face him, Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and folded his arms on top of them, resting his chin there and licking his lips nervously. "Falling for me?" he said again, softly now.

Draco glanced away. "It doesn't matter."

"Why?"

"Because I had forgotten, for a while."

"Forgotten what?"

Draco's throat was tight suddenly and he said, "Forgotten who I was. Like you said. You forgot who I was and I forgot who you were and all the reasons why this was just pretend."

He felt the shock go through Harry at that and winced. "It's not…not real?"

"You said, Harry!" And Draco's voice cracked. "You said that you had forgotten who I was."

"I didn't… I didn't mean it. Draco, I didn't mean that. I was just… so angry." Harry reached out and touched Draco's arm.

"I just… just wanted you to tell me that it wasn't like that. That I wasn't just some rebellion of yours because you were angry at everyone."

"I don't understand how you could think that," Harry whispered.

"I don't understand how you can't just deny it."

"It's not true."

"It isn't?"

"I swear, Draco. Maybe none of this would have happened if Dumbledore hadn't told me about the spell wearing off and all that, but that doesn't mean that it's a game. That it's just me being angry. Because it isn't. It's…something else."

"What is it, then?"

"It's… You're right that it shouldn't have happened. A few months ago I never would have dreamed it, or any of this. But it did happen and I know why it did. It didn't happen because I wanted to hurt people and it didn't happen because I was angry. It happened because I wanted it to and I needed it to and because I was going to fall apart if it didn't. I mean, think about it. When all those weird things were happening, you kept showing up and making sure I wasn't hurt, wasn't killed. Whenever I needed you, you were there. And I needed this. I think… I think it's magic."

"Magic?" Draco whispered, smiling a little wistfully. "What sort of magic?"

"Maybe it's karma. The world feels bad for fucking me over this way and sent you to make it… make it a little more even."

Draco swallowed shakily and closed his eyes. "Harry," he whimpered, his voice heavy with panic. "You're not going to die."

There was a long pause and then Harry's arms were around him. "Shh, it's alright, of course I'm not," Harry whispered, his lips brushing Draco's ear. "I promise."

Lies, hollow lies, but Draco let himself believe them. "Maybe it didn't happen to save you, Harry, maybe all this happened to save me."

"What do you need saving from?" Harry asked gently, rolling his eyes and pulling away.

Draco's eyes opened and slid away skittishly. "Nothing," he said huskily.

Harry had his wand out now, and he cast a healing charm on Draco's lip. After he'd done that, he touched it again, inspecting it carefully to make sure it was really healed. Then, Harry said quietly, "Your hair's a mess, Draco."

"I need a cigarette," Draco replied, as Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair and tidied it.

Laughing softly, Harry passed him one and lit it, then lighting another for himself. They smoked together for a while, and then Draco said musingly, "This is the nastiest habit you have, Potter."

"Well, it's not quite habit yet," Harry replied, grimacing and taking another drag. "But I'm working on it."

Draco grinned at him and Harry grinned back and everything was right again. The bruises had faded, they'd forgiven and forgotten and together, they watched the sun set over the lake in companionable silence.

***

The next week passed in a blur. Between writing exams, serving their last detentions, and researching anything that could help Harry in the library, there was hardly time for anything else besides sleeping and eating. The term was ending and the days were long and hot, and a frantic sort of nervous energy grew inside Harry. Days slipped by, faster and faster, and the only time anything slowed down was when Draco was there, calming him, keeping him sane. It was easy to believe that nothing in the world could touch him with so adamant a protector as Draco was turning out to be.

They'd had no time to relax or talk in that last week, so, on their last day before boarding the train home, when Draco slipped a note onto Harry's desk as he left the exam room, Harry nearly cried in relief. He had worried that he'd have to leave tomorrow without getting to say goodbye, because they'd been so busy and all.

‘Meet me at the lake', was all it said, but it was enough. Harry hurried through the last half of his exam and then out to the lake. Draco was waiting, sitting on the edge of the pier.

"We've got lots of Dark Arts books at home," he said abruptly, as soon as he heard Harry step onto the wooden pier. "I'll check them when I get there for anything that'll help."

"Dark spells?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Dumbledore won't even check them, so I will. Maybe there will be something…"

"Alright."

Draco grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him down, so they were sitting side by side. "I'm going to come for you, Harry," he said.

"What?"

"I'll go home and check the books and then I'll come and find you."

Harry felt a smile flicker over his lips. "You will?"

"What, you thought I'd leave you there? At your uncle's?"

"I wasn't sure," Harry whispered, but it was a lie. He'd been having nightmares all week of his uncle finding his body and laughingly putting it on display in a monument listing all his heroic acts.

Draco looped his arm around Harry's neck and jerked him closer, kissing him hard. "Don't even think it," he whispered. "I'll be there. In a week, I'll be there."

"You promise?"

Draco just kissed him again, gently this time. "Don't worry," he said.

There was a strange, calm sort of acceptance in Harry's manner now. He couldn't explain it and didn't think he wanted to. What was happening couldn't be helped, or if it could, it was being helped as much as possible, and out of his hands.

That didn't mean he wasn't scared. He was buzzing with terror, nervous fear.

The calm, he supposed, came from being with Draco. Sort of like opposite ends of a magnet, since Draco was so frantic and fighting against everything, Harry felt he had to be calm, soothing, or else they'd both lose their minds.

So now, sitting on the pier, he gave Draco a soft smile, and said, "How can I worry? Everything's going to be fine."

"It will be." It sounded almost savage.

Harry brushed his fingers fleetingly along Draco's cheekbone. "You look tired," he said gently. "Have you been sleeping?"

Draco frowned. "What?"

Harry sighed and slipped an arm around Draco's shoulders, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "I worry, is all."

"What?"

"Shh…"

"Harry."

"What?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're the one who's... who's... and you're worried about me?"

"You know you like it," Harry teased, grinning at Draco's incredulous look.

"Shouldn't you be scared?" Draco asked quietly, frowning.

"I am. I'm terrified."

"You're not acting like it."

Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder and thought about it for a long while. "I don't want to be scared," he said finally. "I want this to just be… the last night before going home just like any other last night. Exams are finished, most people are back at the common room having a party."

"You want to go to the party?"

"I want to stay here with you and forget that all of that and all of what's coming isn't real."

"Oi, Harry, you frustrate me. You cut yourself so that you don't forget it's real, you run away because you're scared it's real, and now you want to forget it. I don't understand."

"Just…just go with it? Please, Draco? I just… if this was your last night on earth, would you want to spend it being scared?"

"I suppose not. But it's not your last night on earth."

"It's the last one that matters. It's the last one I get to spend with you."

Draco turned towards him, looking stern. "I told you, Harry. I'll be there. In a week."

"Mmhmm," Harry murmured.

"You don't believe me."

"Listen," Harry said suddenly, lifting his head. "Are you listening? Right. You know how I always say that when you kiss me, I forget everything I'm scared of?"

"…Yeah?"

Harry kissed him, a sweet, pleading sort of kiss, aching and soft and sort of bittersweet. "There," he whispered, kissing the corner of Draco's lips. "Have you forgotten everything?"

"No," Draco replied quietly, voice cracking a bit. "But I guess I could —"

He kissed him again, firmer this time, almost a punishment but more of a reward, really, a bribe. Shut up, Draco, and I'll kiss you again… "Forget yet?" Harry asked, his voice husky.

"Umm," Draco replied, distracted.

Harry grinned. "C'mon, then," he said, getting to his feet and pulling Draco up.

"What? Where are we going?"

"Swimming! What else did you invite me down here for if not because you wanted to get all my clothes off and get me in the lake?"

"Harry, it's the middle of the afternoon! People will see!"

Harry kissed him and whispered against his lips. "Do what I say, Draco? Just for today. Forget everything and be mine, just for today."

"For forever," Draco replied instantly, and then he flushed a little. Harry grinned again and started tugging at Draco's trousers.

Laughing helplessly, Draco started taking off his clothes, and Harry giggled and it was a race to see who could get it done first. Snickering and racing towards the end of the dock, they leapt in at the same time, water swallowing them both, the sudden shock of it startling the giant squid from her nap and sending her flinching across the lake to the quieter side, quite put out at the intrusion.

Draco seemed to have taken his promise seriously, and there were only a few moments when a shadow seemed to pass over his eyes and he'd reach out and touch Harry, as if making sure he was still there.

As for Harry, a forceful sort of playfulness had fallen over him. He refused to think of anything except the water and the perfect summer day and Draco. They swam together and laughed together, splashing each other and every now and again, unable to keep from kissing each other, teasing little brushes of mouths and lips and tongues that did more to add to the playfulness than to change it into anything else, anything as frightening as that day in the field.

Dusk fell, and if anyone had been outside, they were gone by now, and the grounds belonged to Harry, Draco, and the crickets and fireflies.

Hours later, they lay on their pier, dressed only in their trousers, Harry's head resting on Draco's stomach, staring thoughtfully up at the sky.

Harry cocked his head and pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes. "Draco?"

"Yeah?"

He rolled, so that he was looking up at Draco, his ear pressed to the other boy's chest. "What was the best day of your whole life?"

Draco started playing with his hair, looking thoughtful. "You want me to pick just one day?" he asked.

"Just one."

"I don't think I can pick a day that was the best of my life. I can tell you a few moments that were the happiest of my whole life, but they've all got these flip sides to them, like coins. It's like there's a balance, and the happiest moments have to be quickly followed by the saddest, to keep everything equal."

Harry considered this for a moment and then said, "Alright then. Your happiest moment."

"When I made Seeker for my team."

"And the flipside?"

"When you beat me the first time. And every time after."

Harry smirked a little and then, at Draco's glare, tried to look contrite. "Sorry."

"Tell me one of your happiest moments."

Harry bit his lip in thought. "When Sirius told me I could go live with him instead of going home with the Dursleys."

"Flipside?"

"When Wormtail escaped and Sirius had to hide again. Tell me another of yours."

"What? I already told you —"

"Tell me another," Harry pleaded, making his eyes go wide. "Please, Draco?"

"Prat," Draco said with a sigh. Then he smiled ruefully. "Cute one, at that. Fine. Another. The first time I kissed you?"

Harry smiled, a fleeting, sweet smile. "And the flipside?"

Draco cleared his throat and glanced away. Then he turned onto his side, so that Harry slipped off his chest, his head then pillowed on Draco's arm, their faces very close. "How could there be a flipside to that?"

But there was, Harry knew. Because right after that, Harry had told him that he was going to die.

Their eyes met and held for a long moment, solemnly, and Harry smiled sadly. "Thank you," he whispered, because Draco was playing along.

Draco touched his face and smiled, a soft, strange smile, the kind Harry would have thought him incapable of only weeks before. "Tell me another," Draco commanded, touching the tip of Harry's nose.

"Today?"

And Draco kissed him and neither bothered to think what the flipside of that one could possibly be.

***

His godfather looked worse than Harry had ever seen him, even newly escaped from Azkaban. He paced the room and mumbled to himself, and Harry watched, nervously concerned that Sirius was having some sort of breakdown.

Strange, Harry himself hadn't yet fallen that far.

Dumbledore was there, looking solemn, and, by Harry's count, the train would be leaving in just under an hour. He had to be on it, Draco was waiting. He had to be there. He had to ride home with Hermione and Ron. He had to.

"You're not going home," Sirius said. Harry went cold with terror.

"Sirius, we decided that it would be best for both you and Harry if he returned to his aunt and uncle's," Dumbledore replied, sounding very tired.

"I don't care what's best! I'm not letting him go!"

"You didn't find anything then? Nothing to help?" Harry asked softly.

"There's still time, Harry." Dumbledore looked sternly at Sirius. "And he cannot go with you."

"Why?" Harry whispered, though he knew. If he died in the care of a man convicted of murdering a street full of people and betraying his parents, they'd think Sirius killed him.

"It's just for the best that he go home. We will know where to find him when we've got this sorted out. There is still time. We will fix this." Dumbledore's eyes blazed, as if daring them to disagree.

Sirius spun towards Harry, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. "You'll wait for us there? We will come for you Harry. Promise you'll stay there, where we can find you."

"I promise," Harry said, shaken at the fever in Sirius' eyes.

"He's got to go catch the train, Sirius," Dumbledore said gently.

Harry was crushed against Sirius' chest, trembling hands running through his hair, over his back. "We will fix it, we will."

Guilt suddenly struck him, and Harry wondered nervously why he felt like he owed Sirius something more than this. Owed him tears, panic attacks, pleas. "I… I don't want to die," he said, giving Sirius the opportunity he seemed to crave.

"You aren't going to die," Sirius swore.

"Alright," Harry whispered, surprised to find real tears in his eyes.

"I love you."

Surprised again. "You do?"

"Of course I do."

"Oh. I… I love you too."

He'd never said that before. To anyone. Ever. Fifteen years old and never said ‘I love you'. Strange, very strange.

Dumbledore spoke to him, quiet promises that Harry didn't bother to listen to. He fidgeted and bounced on his toes and glanced worriedly at his watch and then he was brought down to the train.

***

Hermione swept her hair over her shoulder, glanced up, met Harry's eyes, and grinned. "Honestly," she drawled, voice heavy with restrained laughter. "You'd think he thought this train ride could last until the term starts again, the rate Ron's going."

I wish it could. He smiled. "Ron's always slow at chess," he said.

She snorted. "Slow at other things, as well."

Ron finally decided to acknowledge them. "I'll have you know that strategy is an important part of chess."

"Oh, is it?" Hermione snickered. She watched him as he precisely moved his bishop, and then quickly followed up with a random move of a pawn that cost him his knight. "Then why is it, Ron, dear, that I'm kicking your arse?"

"Because you're cheating!" he cried.

"Am I?" she replied, and she was smirking.

"You are. Harry, you saw her!"

"I didn't see a thing," Harry replied, unable to restrain a smile.

"It doesn't matter," he said sullenly. "The trolley's coming around, we'll buy some sweets."

They did, eating them and talking for the rest of the ride. Harry was aware of a dark little voice in the back of his head whispering about how this could very likely be the last time he ever saw them, and that they didn't even realize it. He couldn't tell them, of course, they'd panic. It was better this way. They didn't have to live this last month terrified of the day Harry was going to die. That was his burden to bear. Well, his and Draco's… Which made it more bearable, of course.

The train pulled into the station and they gathered up their things. As they were about to leave the compartment, Harry cleared his throat. "Guys?" he said, and his eyes were shining with tears, his voice tight.

Ron frowned. "C'mon, Harry, you're not gonna cry, are you?" he teased. "It's only for the summer. You always get so upset when we have to go home."

"And who wouldn't, with a family like his?" Hermione scolded Ron, dropping her things and hugging Harry tightly. "Don't worry, Harry," she soothed. "We'll see you soon, it'll be fine. I'll owl you at least once a week, and send your birthday presents by owl as well."

Harry blinked. "Send them early, okay?" he said suddenly.

She frowned. "Why?"

"I don't think I'll be… be around on my actual birthday and I'd like to see them before…"

"Where are you gonna be? Don't tell me those Muggles of yours are taking you on vacation!" Ron cried. "That's brilliant, Harry!"

"Umm, yeah…" It was awkward and terribly hard, and Harry just stared at them both helplessly. He knew what he wanted to say, and it would go something like, "I don't want to leave you, don't make me get off this train and walk away from you because everything's different and the whole world has changed and you guys don't even know it because I kept it from you because I was scared and I can't tell you now because I don't want you to be scared… Don't let me walk away from you."

But instead, he just forced a weak smile, and whispered, "I'll miss you both so much."

"We'll be together again soon," Hermione promised.

"Yeah. Mum's still dead set on you coming and spending the last of the summer with us." Ron was making his way out of the compartment, talking over his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Hermione whispered to Harry, scanning his face worriedly.

"Yeah," he lied. "Fine. Let's just… let's go, alright?" He suddenly needed to see Draco so badly it hurt. The platform was crazy, and he was terrified that he wouldn't be able to find him.

He hugged both Hermione and Ron, who was quite amused by it, and then promised to write often. Hermione hurried off to her parents and Ron's mother came over and hugged him, kissed his forehead and made him promise to come for the end of summer. He mumbled something inaudible and pulled away, scanning the chaotic crowd on the platform.

He said his goodbyes, made easier because he was so worried about missing Draco, and then pushed his way into the crowd. He was shorter than most of his year and those older than him, so it was hard, trying to see. Eyes welling up with panicked tears, he'd almost given up when someone grabbed his arm from behind.

"You've got an owl, yeah?" It was Draco.

Relief almost made Harry's knees give out. "Yeah," he whispered shakily, as someone knocked into him from behind and sent him stumbling against Draco.

"Owl me. Every day." Draco looked almost fierce, his eyes narrowing and glaring at whomever had dared run into Harry.

His voice was choking up, and Harry nodded. "I will."

"I'll check the libraries at home, I'll find something."

"Yeah." He wanted more of this. Wanted to curl up against Draco's chest and close his eyes and wish this all away. Instead, he caught sight of his uncle making his way through the crowd. "Oh god," he whimpered, hand twisting in Draco's. "I can't do this." He turned away, as if to run, get away. Something that would put this off a little longer.

Draco grabbed his shoulder and whispered, "I will come for you, Harry. As soon as I can, a week at the most, I swear it."

Turning back slowly, eyes wide and terrified, Harry nodded slowly. "Right. Alright."

Draco studied his face worriedly for a long moment, and then mumbled, "Oh fuck this." He jerked Harry against him, ignoring all their classmates and their parents, Harry's uncle, ignoring everything, and focusing only on the fact that Harry was shaking and scared and he needed to comfort him.

He kissed him, a quick brush of lips and then another, an attempt to soothe more than anything, and Harry sobbed low in his throat and tilted his head upwards, closing his eyes. Unable to resist that, Draco kissed him deeply now, two hands cupping his face, fingers buried in his hair, his mouth pressing insistently against Harry's. Breathing heavily, Harry opened his mouth to the kiss and pressed closer, his hands slipping around Draco's waist. He whimpered as Draco's tongue slipped into his mouth, and everything fell away around them and they forgot everything, completely giving themselves up to the kiss and the underlying desperate fear beneath it.

"Apparently, Draco, becoming a delinquent wasn't the only way you've changed this year," Lucius drawled from nearby, and it was Harry who reacted to his voice by jerking away from Draco, his eyes widening.

Draco ignored his father. "I'll come for you," he whispered again, kissing the side of Harry's neck. His eyes met Lucius', and Harry whimpered a bit, pushing at Draco weakly. Draco didn't care.

Before Lucius could say another word, Harry was grabbed roughly from behind and torn away from Draco, straight against Uncle Vernon. "What's the meaning of this?" he gasped, his face already flushed to an angry red. He was holding Harry roughly by the back of his shirt, shaking him a little, and Harry only barely managed to keep his balance.

Draco looked like he wanted to throttle him, but Lucius' hand had come down hard on his shoulder, so he only stood there bristling and growling softly, his eyes on Harry's, furious.

Harry wondered idly if Lucius would speak. If he'd sneer at Harry's Muggle relative, if he'd curse him, if he'd kill Harry for daring to touch his son. Lucius flicked his cold eyes over Vernon, his lips twisting a bit in some morbid sort of amusement, but apparently Vernon was too far beneath his notice to warrant a comment. "Come along then, Draco, this will be dealt with like the rest of your transgressions," he said smoothly, turning away.

Draco shot one look at his father and then stepped towards Harry, his eyes flicking up to Vernon coldly. Vernon fell back, startled and probably afraid he was about to be cursed, and Draco's lips tilted in the same way his father's had. Morbid amusement.

Then, he gently touched Harry's chin and said quietly, "I'll be there. I promise." He kissed Harry softly and then turned to follow his father.

Harry's lower lip was trembling and he sniffled, turning to his uncle. "If you're going to shout at me," he said, swallowing heavily, "can you do it in the car? It's already so loud here."

Vernon looked severely traumatized. Perhaps, Harry thought quietly, he realized how close he'd come to being killed. Instead of shouting, he just nodded jerkily, and turned to lead the way.

He didn't speak the whole way home, and Harry was glad. He knew that he wouldn't escape punishment for that, for proving that he was weird in more ways than strictly magical ones. His uncle had raged multiple times against the very same sort of thing that Harry had just let himself be caught engaging in. But he couldn't find the strength to care.

Aunt Petunia's lips tightened sourly when he walked into the house, but she didn't say a word. Not until Uncle Vernon, who had been forcibly forgetting all the frightening things he'd seen at the platform (namely two pairs of eyes belonging to what he was sure had to be vampires or something unnatural), said, "Looks like the boy's been busy at school, Petunia."

"Oh?" she replied, running her eyes over him as though looking for dirt of some kind, like whatever Uncle Vernon was referring to would have left a mark.

It had, Harry decided. Just not the kind that she could ever see.

"Got himself a boyfriend."

"A what?"

Uncle Vernon was smirking. Dudley had overheard from the next room, and he was laughing, laughing as if he'd just heard the funniest thing of the year. "Can I go to my room now?" Harry asked dully, staring at the floor.

He didn't wait for an answer, only turned and made his way up the stairs. Aunt Petunia was still asking shrill questions, his uncle was snidely telling her everything he'd seen, and Dudley was still laughing, but Harry didn't care.

He didn't have the energy to care.

The first week passed at a crawl for Harry, who stayed in his room and forgot to eat most of the time. He became quite good and ignoring voices around him, because the only voices he heard were his aunt's as she swore that she would not have ‘one of them' (one of whom, he did not ask, because with Aunt Petunia, it hardly mattered), living in her home, his uncle, who delighted in telling a lewd and filthy version of what he'd seen on the platform (neglecting to mention his terror at the sight of Lucius Malfoy), and Dudley, who enjoyed telling anyone who would listen about his cousin, who was ‘queer'.

Really, it was better to be deaf than waste his time with sounds like those.

So he stayed in his room and he wrote letters, to Hermione, Ron, Sirius, and Draco, assuring them that everything was right as rain. There were too many letters for Hedwig to handle, so he sent her with Draco's and stored the other ones in his desk, waiting for her to return. He sent Sirius' letters with the owl his letters came with, and Hermione and Ron's he sent with Pig, who came in the middle of the week with a letter from Ron.

And other than that, he stared out the window and waited for the week to be over and for Draco to come for him.

The week came and went without even a letter, and the days after that passed more slowly.

It was strange, he decided. He'd wanted time to slow down before, when he was with Draco, so that it could last forever. It hadn't obliged and now, when he wanted more than anything to see Draco again, it wouldn't speed up. Days crawled by slower than any he could remember, but still, they passed, until he gave up watching out the window and fell back into his bed and cried and cried because Draco had forgotten. Draco wasn't coming at all. He hadn't even replied to a single one of Harry's letters.

Draco wasn't coming.