Lost

Chapter Nine

Reunion

Tables and chairs were flipping over, muggles popped up here and there, frightened and confused. A baby muggle cradled in it's mothers arms wailed loudly as the mother tried to defend herself from the mob of hysteric, drunken, and sympathetic wizards. Some attempted to explain to the muggles what was happening, why this building that had never been seen before was suddenly visible out of thin air, or why the muggles had been transported magically from where they had been to this place.

Some, like Draco, walked over to the bar, and calmly observing the chaos, drank. Taking his concentration off of the crowd momentarily only to pay for his goblet of wine, Draco turned around--and uncharacteristically knocked the goblet to the floor in shock.

All control, all thoughts of being entertained by the chaos, or doing magic, or doing anything but stare, fled from Draco's mind. His breath caught in his throat, mouth became dry, hands firmly gripping the table to keep him sitting in his chair, his knuckles white.

Harry!

He watched that familiar insane mop of dark hair float back and forth through the crowd, noticing as the mob of wizards separated, parted, muggles quieted, and the surprised crowd turned down the volume. And then, suddenly, there he was, standing there, in all his sweet radiance.

Draco couldn't help but smirk. The Gryffindor looked so innocent, so kind, yet strong, as if he knew the situation couldn't get anything from now on but better. Optimism glowed in his aura, and emerald eyes sparkled from behind round rimmed glasses.

All words Harry said were tuned out of Draco's ears, as all he did was sit, and stare. Of course, he didn't look conspicuous; every one else was also staring at Harry Potter. Draco's eyes roamed over the other boy's figure, heart beating fast. Nine months. It had been nine months. When he was accused of murder, it had been seven months. One month he'd remained in the cell, waiting for his trail date, his case undecided whether he should go straight to Azkaban without a trail, because of the crime he had been accused of committing, or be allowed to remain in jail until bail or have a trial. In the end, he'd chosen the escape route, and spending much energy, he'd Apparated. Of course, he had no Apparation license, had never Apparated before, and had to wait for the right time. He'd been unconscious for two hours afterwards, and a woman had found him in the streets of Diagon Alley and brought him to the nearest wizard hotel.

There he'd recovered and taken it easy for one month, occasionally venturing outside, and basically being bored and staying low. The war had begun months ago. However, no sign of Death Eaters or Voldemort had been heard of, one Death Eater still remained doing who-knew-what in the OtherWorld, and meanwhile it had been heard that Harry Potter was traveling the world to help muggles and wizards alike when the glitches on the spells separating muggle and wizard worlds became especially strong.

Draco blinked back into reality, as suddenly he heard Harry's voice. "Excuse me, you over there, sir, could you lend me a hand here?"

Looking up, he realized that, disguised in the black hooded cloak as he was, that, in his sitting position, covered his clothing, Harry didn't recognize him. Plus, they hadn't seen each other in so long. The crowd was getting wild again, wizards now clamoring for autographs and words with the Boy-Who-Lived, muggles left to stand, trying to digest the bit of information Harry had revealed to them about what had happened, stunned. He had twisted the reality of it to make it sound more scientific than magic, a world phenomenon involving radioactive energy, time, and space.

Putting down his cup of wine, Draco stood up, and taking out his wand, attempted to get through the crowd. It was difficult; he grimaced as many bodies of wizards and muggles alike pressed against him, bumping and shoving him back and forth. Finally, he managed to get in close proximity to Harry, and even as he was forced to stand back to back with Harry, he called over his shoulder, "I suggest a stunning spell or memory charms, what do you think?"

Draco shivered as he felt the contours of the other boy pressing against him, and, at the other boy's lack of reply, asked, "Well, Potter?"

"How would we stun all of these people though? And what about the muggles, we shouldn't do that, not to them. These people are all innocent, they're just a little crazy right now."

"Talking didn't work, Potter, although I'm sure your speech was impressive. We need some action here. How about this: I cast the spell, and you form spell guards around each muggle, so the spell can't hit them? Then we both do the work of getting them out of here."

"Well, I'm in my seventh year, so that couldn't be too difficult; if you really think you can cast a spell on all these witches and wizards, then I can do some smaller spells, sure."

Focusing on the spell, Draco pulled back his sleeves, tucking his wand away, and, with a casual flick of his hand, he hid the movement, making it so slight that he wouldn't betray the fact that he had cast it. His ears plugged slightly, and he began to feel a bit dizzy, but stopped himself from falling. Inside the back of his mind, the buzz that had been the general thoughts of the crowd around him froze, and all was silent. Finally, his mind only contained his own thoughts. That was one of the worst things about being a Summoner: being able to sense the general gist of thoughts of people around him.

As Harry walked forward to round up all the muggles, Draco's knees gave out, from the loss of energy from the spell, the effort of putting a small disguising spell around him, and the shock of seeing Harry again. Breathing a deep sigh, he let all the spells around himself (but not the stunned crowd) drop away, and, keeping his hood between his skin and the dirty floor, lay down in pure exhaustion.

-----*-----

"It has barely begun, Harry."

"I know. But that's what's so horrid about it, Headmaster. It has barely begun, yet I feel like I've been traveling and muggle searching for years."

"Well, Harry, all you can do is continue the way you are and hope for the best. You've learned many lessons throughout your years, Harry. I have no doubt that you will, in the end, decide what is best for yourself pertaining to the current situations."

A clear pop sound was heard as Dumbledore Apparated away.

Draco slowly cracked open an eye, immediately closing them again for the harsh glare of the white walls and sheets of the hospital wing against his vision. Groaning in pain and exhaustion, he drew the sheet up over his head, turning over on his side. Trembling as Harry lay a hand on his shoulder, Draco wanted to scream in frustration as the other boy asked, concerned, "Hey, are you okay? That spell you cast...it was really amazing. Extremely powerful, I don't know how you pulled it off. Er...I forgot to ask you your name..."

Draco turned around to face Harry, sliding the sheets down to around his waist. Supporting his head with his arm, the other holding Harry's wrist, voice sarcastically doubtful, he asked, "Remember me?"

Harry stared for a moment, and then his eyes lit upon the silver bracelet around Draco's wrist, and read the DM + HP forever. His gaze flicked back and forth from bracelet to Draco's face for a few moments, and then recognition and shock slammed into him with full force.

"DRACO???"