Dragonweed

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DRAGONWEED

"The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven"
John Milton, "Paradise Lost"

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CHAPTER 7 -- Snowflakes

"love is the voice under all silences,
the hope which has no opposite in fear;
the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:
the truth more first than sun more last than star

-- do lovers love? why then to heaven with hell"
e.e.cummings

--- Draco ---

The next morning is best left in the deepest dungeons of memory. After a few hours of agony I decide to swallow my pride and drag myself over to the hospital wing to get Madam Pomfrey to give me a potion or a charm to cure my hangover. She does so, looking very disapproving, but she does not say anything except order me to sit down until the charm has taken effect properly. How do Muggles cope with hangovers? I have to ask Granger.

When I feel almost normal again, I thank Madam Pomfrey and ask her if I can go and see Harry.

"He is out in the garden," she says.

* * *

I know where I will find him, of course. Poor old Harry, so sentimental, so easy to figure out. I smile to myself as I walk along the snowy paths. When I come to the terraces, a lonely trail of dark footprints tells me that I am right. I follow it slowly past the leafless, snow-covered lacework of the rose bushes.

The bright sun of the morning has surrendered to heavy, grey clouds, and the faint tang in the air tells me there is going to be more snow.

He is standing by the balustrade, looking out over the lake. It is not frozen over yet, and the surface is the colour of lead. He shows no sign of having heard me.

He looks so vulnerable, a thin, lonely figure, dark against the greys and whites. My heart seems to swell to three times its size, obstructing my breathing. I want to take him in my arms and coo to him, murmur silly little words, sing him nonsense, protect him from the world that has hurt him. But I know I am part of that world.

I walk slowly up to him.

"Hello, Malfoy," he says without turning around.

I wish he would stop using my last name. I know he does it to create distance between us, but I don't understand why he still feels the need to do that. I don't reply. I lean against the balustrade beside him, as close to him as I dare, and we both stand there looking out over the cold grey waves. The landscape has an emptiness that seems to reflect the dead silence between us. I turn to look at him. The first snowflakes come whirling and settle like miniature stars on his black woolen cloak.

I take hold of his shoulder and turn him around to face me. He is strangely pliable. I see now that tears are running down his face, but he doesn't make a sound. It makes me feel worse than if he had been howling. I pull him to me and hold him close, and he doesn't pull away. He just puts his head heavily on my shoulder as if he is very, very tired, his face turned away from me. I rest my cheek against his head and I think that this is where I want everything to slow down and stop, I will hold him and we will stay in this moment indefinitely. He whispers something but the wind takes his words. I feel a tremor go through his body and his arms come around me slowly, almost shyly. He keeps mumbling into my shoulder.

"What, Harry?"

"I'm sorry, Draco. I'm so sorry."

I pull him even closer and he responds; we hold each other as if we are drowning. He says "I'm sorry" again and again, as if he can't stop once he has started. When I feel the wind chill my face I realise that I am crying, too. A trapdoor opens inside me and I fall down into myself, so fast my head starts spinning. I am so frightened and so absolutely sure that this fear is good. I never knew love could mean that you allow yourself to be torn apart for the exultation of being put back together again. He lifts his head from my shoulder and looks into my smarting eyes. I have never been looked at with such tenderness. I have never seen a smile so soft. I am still falling, falling, falling into the depths of myself.

His kiss is heartbreakingly gentle. I close my eyes and hope the salty taste will never leave my tongue.