A Little Too Much Fresh Air
Title: A Little Too Much Fresh Air
Length: 6503
Rating: PG13
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Dumbledore may have told them they needed fresh air but he hadn't meant like that.
Note: Written for hump_day101 using the prompt, 'a breath of fresh air' (fluff)
“I can’t believe it!” Professor McGonagall raved as she dragged a fuming Harry and Draco down an empty hallway to the stone gargoyles. “Dumbledore really shouldn’t be bothered about this, what with him being so busy, but it has gone too far. Too far.”
She released the struggling Slytherin for a moment to get a better grip. “Even Snape took points off Slytherin because of you,” she reminded Draco, still slightly in awe and shock about that herself. “Three times in two days,” she muttered. “Toothflossing Stringments!” shouted McGonagall, so angry she didn’t change her tone of voice to speak to the gargoyles.
Harry tripped as his head of house shoved them onto the rotating steps, stepping behind them but finally releasing their collars. He glared into the smirking grey eyes of Draco.
It wasn’t his fault the Slytherin kept jumping him, seemingly wanting to fight the muggle way now that the weather was fine. Nice weather did strange things to students cramped up in a castle, Harry had recently found out. Ron, for example, had taken to skinny-dipping in the great lake. With the Giant Squid, Harry mind kept supplementing.
At the first knock on the door, Harry and Draco both winced. They were in deep trouble, if finding their selves stationed outside the entrance to Headmaster Dumbledore’s office said anything.
“Yes, Minerva?” Dumbledore’s calm voice spoke as he gazed curiously at his two students.
Harry felt ashamed for his first time in the recent fighting with Draco. Dumbledore really did have plenty else to deal with, not adding petty classmate fights to the list. And that’s what it was, right? Petty classmate fights simply because they were bored…and Draco was insane. Since he started most of them.
It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Harry’s toes curled pleasantly with each fight. And he most definitely didn’t single Draco out and try to surreptitiously goad him into attacking. And if he did, well, it was because he plain hated Draco Malfoy.
Harry shook his head out of his thoughts and tried unsuccessfully moving out of McGonagall’s fierce grip. Draco’s robes, which were falling of his shoulder, taking the white shirt underneath with it, and revealing a patch of skin just to the edge of the neck that rolled forward slightly when Draco jerked his shoulder out of the Professor’s hand, were trailing across Harry’s not robe-clad ankle and it tickled. Harry stopped trying to move away from Draco’s robes when Dumbledore coughed, drawling his attention to the Headmaster.
“These two,” she rewrapped her hand around Draco’s collar and shook them slightly. Draco met Harry’s eyes from in front of McGonagall and rolled his eyes. Harry stared.
“They’ve been fighting nonstop for the past week. Three times in the past two days! And that’s just from what we’ve caught. Who knows how much more.” She finally let go of the boys’ collars. Draco fixed his while Harry sheepishly avoided Dumbledore’s gaze.
Eyeing both of them, Dumbledore questioned, “They don’t seem to have many marks for boys who have been fighting for the past week?”
And it was true. Harry had a split lip and a red spot was blossoming under Draco’s right ear. McGonagall had broken it up after Draco had leapt at Harry in the hall and impaled himself on Harry’s hand by mistake. Harry sported a split lip because he had bit it in surprise when a body landed on him. All in all, it had been one of their least impressive fights to date. Harry found it ironic that it was that fight that lead them to the Headmaster’s attention.
“Well - erm - Hermione’s been healing me, sir, ” Harry gave as an answer. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and looked at Draco for an answer. An answer that Harry was quiet interested to hear. Madam Pomphrey wouldn’t keep healing Draco’s bruises. Harry hoped he had to beg to get the fighting evidence to disappear because Harry sure had to beg Hermione to heal him. Ron even had to help him soften her.
“Potter hits like a girl,” Draco said with a smirk.
“I do not!” Harry bristled.
McGonagall figured it an opportune time to grab their collars again and Draco sighed heavily. Harry stuck his tongue out at him before he could stop himself. Draco actually burst out in laughter, and McGonagall scolded Harry for being so childish.
“I think,” Dumbledore started and everyone fell silent. He paused and Harry held his breath. He didn’t want detentions, especially when school was letting out in two weeks; he wanted to spend as much of that time as possible with his friends before returning to the Dursleys. “That what you two need is a breath of fresh air.”
Draco blinked and Harry followed his lead. They only had to go outside? McGonagall agreed with their surprise if her indignant squeak said anything, but Dumbledore held up his hand for silence and continued.
“Obviously you both are harboring much energy inside you and staying inside has only heightened it. In fact, I don’t see why neither of you are outside right now. It’s a gorgeous day. Most everyone else it out, I believe, lazing around the lake and such. You both will go outside and enjoy yourselves.”
McGonagall’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets. Harry purposely avoided Draco’s eyes, knowing the other boy wanted to share in the humor of the Gryffindor head of house not getting what she wanted.
“But what about their fighting?” she gasped.
“Right.” Dumbledore stroked his long beard pensively. “I believe twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin should do it. And the next fight shall result in detention, though I hope it won’t come to that.” His eyes twinkled as he excused them. Before Harry shut Dumbledore’s office door behind them he could hear McGonagall complaining that he’d gone too soft.
Draco chuckled freely once the stone shut behind them and the gargoyles sprang back into place. Harry was quiet glad that Draco wasn’t holding it in any longer because the odd sharp puffs of breath had made his stomach feel queasy. The lamb had looked undercooked at lunch that day. He’d have to ask Ron if he got cramps from swimming.
They walked silently to the front door leading to the grounds. Draco did try to trip him once but Harry wasn’t in the mood. He could just see his two best friends when he told them he’d lost even more points and had managed to be taken to Dumbledore. Hermione would tut and tell him to behave. Ron would rant with him about how annoying Malfoy is and how it was his entire fault but he would have this look in his eye, almost like he was worried about Harry, but Harry wouldn’t ask. Then, after he walked away from them, probably by other housemates slightly upset with him, they would converse together and cease once he wondered back.
That particular scene had happened much too often lately, mostly in the past week.
Harry squinted and huffed in the bright sunlight, starkly different from inside the castle. He had a strong desire to bite Draco’s neck. It was his fault after all.
He huffed again.
“What Potter, did I wind you that much?” Draco snapped, using his arm to screen the sun from his eyes. He had long since shed the robes and was dangling it in the crook of his other arm. Every now and then it would brush against Harry. Suddenly it did again.
“Stop it!”
Draco stopped and whirled in his spot to face Harry, his eyes glinting with confusion and that look he got every time they were about to fight. Harry secretly called it Draco’s fight-look and prided in being the one to make it appear.
“Stop what? Stop walking next to you? Stop beating you up in the hallways? Stop treating you like the scum you are? Stop want-” he cut off abruptly and walked away, over to the Quidditch pitch where an impromptu game was commencing with many spectators.
Harry stared after him in shock over his abrupt leave. “No,” he called. “Stop brushing your robes against me!”
Draco froze and riveted slowly. He had the most peculiar look on his face, and then Harry understood it was a look of mocking incredulously. Draco walked forward until he stood directly in front of Harry, a mere foot away. Harry became slightly nervous; he’d never been this close to the blond without having his hands all over the other boy. Because they were fighting that is.
Harry reached out and shoved him away. He had to because they were close enough for fighting but not touching. It felt wrong not to be touching when they stood so near each other.
Draco stumbled briefly, apparently caught unawares but came back. He lifted his robes in front of them like a shield. Harry narrowed his eyes. What the - but the robe moved closer and fell on Harry’s head, successfully blocking the sunlight.
The area was clear of people. Harry made sure of that after he snatched the robe off his head and before he leapt across the small distance and pinned Draco to the grass. Draco protested by screaming loudly. Panicky that they would get in trouble Harry stuffed his arm against Draco’s mouth.
The lithe body under Harry withered and then there was a hand on Harry’s arse, groping frantically. Momentarily stunned, Harry froze. Then Draco mumbled something around Harry’s arm and bit down, hard. Harry recoiled but saw that Draco’s gropage wasn’t to confuse Harry but to grab his wand.
The face of Harry showed betrayal as Draco thrust his wand between them. They’d never brought magic into the fights for the past week. And it wasn’t fair that Draco was introducing it with Harry’s wand, when he didn’t know where Draco’s was.
With a growl, Harry crushed down on Draco, who was still lying on the half-dead grass. Harry bit down on Draco’s neck, feeling satisfaction that he’d finally been able to do that, and knocked the wand out of Draco’s slack fingers. In fact, Draco had frozen under Harry. The brunette pulled back, looking confused.
Then Draco wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist and flipped the position, so that Harry was the one on the ground with Draco towering over him.
Harry’s head had hit something on the roll and his hand scrabbled with Draco’s robes they had rolled onto. He reached in the pocket just as Draco’s hand fell off of Harry’s head and slid in the pocket with his, grasping a small metal object. Harry must have kneed him harder then he’d thought.
Then his stomach felt funny, like it had jumped but Harry couldn’t recall Draco punching him there. All his attention was focused on Draco, who then did decide to start punching Harry. Everything was a whirl, in the back of Harry’s mind he realized the wind had really picked up. Harry tried pushing Draco away but was slammed down…and then they started to roll down a little hill.
Harry didn’t remember a hill but Draco’s foot met Harry’s shin and it really didn’t matter if there had been a hill before or not. All that mattered was getting Draco back for that.
Draco shrieked and whipped his head forcibly up to come in contact with Harry’s head, a sickening crack feeling their ears and stopping Harry from his activity of scratching Draco to rub at his sore head. But his hand touched something wet and suddenly he apprehended that the wet stuff was running down the side of his face.
And it wasn’t blood but water.
Harry blinked and sat straight, looking around frantically. They were lying on thick alive grass and moss. The sun was no longer beating down on them as tall trees surrounded them and there was a small bridge to the left with an indent in the grass showing where two boys had tumbled through.
He was thourally bewildered and looked down at Draco to share it when he saw he was straddling the blond. Draco wasn’t paying attention to him though as he was looking around, realization dawning on his face. But Harry was busy looking at the small creek behind Draco’s head. Draco was propped up on his elbows and his hair was dripping wet, a trickle of water running down his nose. Harry didn’t realize he was staring until Draco locked eyes with him.
“Teens,” someone muttered in irritation. Harry looked over to the bridge to see a woman no older than Mrs. Weasley walking by. She was wearing jogging clothes and Harry’s mind stopped.
They weren’t at Hogwarts anymore.
“Gerroff,” Draco grumbled, shoving Harry to the ground. Harry glared at him then looked up to the woman, who was already walking away.
“Wait!” he called, wanting to know what was going on, but Draco distracted him by grabbing his left hand and opening it from the closed position it had been in. Harry stared at him as he did the same to the other hand.
With a huff Draco thrust Harry’s hand away and started searching the ground. Harry just sat there staring at him, wondering if he’d lost it.
“Well, help me!” Draco yelled, jerking his head to look at Harry. His white-blond hair, heavy and somewhat longer now that it was wet, whipped him in the face. Draco sneered and pushed it away, a wet trail rolling down from his eye like a tear.
Harry opened his hands, palms up, and asked, “For what?”
Draco rolled his eyes but stopped mid second roll to let out a whoop and dash forward. He snatched something off the ground at the bottom of the little hill.
Harry stood and walked over, wondering what was causing Draco to frown. He looked down at the metal ring and frowned too. All that was over a lost ring? A plain old ugly lost ring.
“Bloody hell.” Draco looked up at Harry’s questionable noise. “This was a portkey,” he said, holding the ring between his pointer finger and thumb. “We’re in America.”
“…What?” Why the heck would Draco carry a portkey with him, especially one to America?
Draco snorted. “Figures you would send us here.”
Harry gaped. He bring them here? He wasn’t the one with a portkey, now was he? “Me?” he asked incredulously and slightly angry. Of course Draco would blame it on him. Could he expect anything else?
“Yes, you! You’re the one who attacked me and activated the portkey. Figures one of the few times you start the fighting something drastic happens.” He gave a long-suffering sigh.
Harry scrunched his face up. He couldn’t believe it. “Me activate the portkey? I’m not the one that even had it!” Harry yelled.
Draco shot back something but Harry wasn’t listening as he was too busy thinking. “Why’d you even have a portkey?” he cut into Draco’s tirade. The blond boy glared at him then sighed again.
“My mother gave them to me.” He crossed his arms and dared Harry to question further.
Harry did. “Them? There’s more? Why do you even need them? Where do they lead to?”
Draco kicked at the dirt, making it bellow up in a small cloud and stick to his shoe, wet from the droplets that had been dripping onto them.
“Fine,” Draco huffed. “I’m only telling you because I know you won’t let it go and who knows how long we’ll be stuck here till someone comes to get us.” He waited for Harry’s nod to continue before he said, “My mother gave them to me for safety, emergencies. There are four of them. The manor, Australia, other side of Britain, and America.” He gestured around them.
“Safety?” Harry questioned.
“Well, yes, Potter. Safety, I’m sure you’re familiar with the word? Who knows what might happen. I could be attacked, Hogwarts could be attacked, I could be stuck with you and want to get away.” He looked bitterly at the ring then threw it into the creek roughly. It bounced off a rock and landed at Harry’s feet.
Harry bent over and grabbed the ring. As he rubbed it he said, “It’s for if you get attacked? Who would be attacking besides Death Eaters?” Draco raised an eyebrow that Harry guessed was tweezed because it was too finely shaped. “Does that mean you’re not going to be a Death Eater?” Something in Harry’s chest contracted with those words. He’d never thought that Draco wouldn’t take it. He was a Malfoy and therefore would.
“That,” Draco said before he turned and headed up the small hill, “is none of your business.”
Harry stared after him, unmoving. Only when Draco started walking away did Harry jump and follow him. They were silent for a few minutes and Harry’s eyes were still adjusting to the sunlight. It was much brighter then at Hogwarts or under the trees at the creek.
They were walking on the side of the road, as there were no sidewalks. The area had middle class houses on the left and one with a lot of land and a small farm on the right. Mostly there were trees and grass. The houses weren’t too close together. It looked like they were walking on a back road, not busy and not too densely packed like a city.
“Wait,” Harry said, jogging up to Draco and flinging his arm out to stop him. Draco glowered at him but Harry ignored it. “Shouldn’t we wait where we got put at? So they can find us.”
Draco shoved Harry’s hand away and started walking. “I’m finding out where we are.”
His eyes widened significantly. Unbelievable. “You don’t even know where the port keys go to?”
Draco whirled around to face him; his hands were clenched tightly at his side into fists. “No, I don’t, okay! All I know is the country because my mother figured it would be safer the less people who knew.”
“So you don’t even know?” Harry almost laughed from the absurdity of it all. If someone handed him a portkey he would want to know where exactly it lead. Although, Harry relented, if someone he trusted, like Hermione or Ron, handed him it he wouldn’t constantly insist upon it. Harry wished Hermione were there now. She would know what to do.
“No, I don’t! Just - just shut it! I’m sick of you and your - your - you! I can’t believe out of all people I’m stuck with -” Draco cut off mid rant to look at the quiet clicking sound emanating from the other side of the road. Four people, a man and woman and two children were riding bikes past them.
“Excuse me,” Draco called politely. Harry couldn’t believe it. How could he go from furious one second to polite and calm the next. The family seemed to share Harry’s thoughts as the two adults peddled faster and the man looked at them funny.
“Hurry up,” the woman called behind her to the children. The youngest girl, who appeared to be having trouble with her tricycle if her panting and strained face said anything, was gazing at them in great interest. The older girl, probably about their age, tapped the young girl on the head then rode up to the adults.
“Where exactly are we?” Draco called after them, clearly irritated. Obviously, he didn’t like being ignored and looked at as if he were a freak. Harry couldn’t hold back his laughter. They did prove quite a sight. Draco’s hair was plastered to his head from the water, there was a red mark on under his ear, and teeth marks on his neck. Harry’s lip was bleeding from the renewed fighting and his hair must have looked something terrible. Not to mention they both were covered in grass stains and dirt.
Just as Harry expected, none of them acknowledged Draco. Except the little girl stopped and wiped her forehead with her arm. She breathed heavily then said, “You’re in Pennsylvania. Erm, Denver, I think. I’ll ask. Mommy! Mommy! Are we in Denver?”
Harry had been waving his hands at her to stop, not wanting the family to put their attention on them, but Draco had elbowed him harshly and it hadn’t worked anyway.
“Yes, good jo -” But then she looked back and her eyes opened in alarm. “Amanda! Come on.” The mother rode back and tugged her along. “What have I told you about talking to strangers?”
Amanda bit her lip and looked impishly back at Harry and Draco. “To be nice?” she said. Harry listened to her mother scold her until a thought came to him. He hit himself on the head, admonishing him for his stupidity. Really, he should have thought of it before.
“Where’s your wand?” Harry asked eagerly, bounding in front of Draco, unable to hide his glee of thinking of it before the Slytherin had.
Draco rolled his eyes but smiled weakly. “Back at Hogwarts with yours.” At Harry’s blank gaze he elaborated. “Mine was in my robes and yours you knocked out of my hand. Remember? Yet another thing you did wrong today.”
“Me?” Harry kicked a small rock at Draco but it missed by a long shot. “You took it out of my pocket,” he accused.
“Yes, well. What are you going to do?” He smirked and Harry desperately wanted to do something - anything - to wipe that look off his face. “Do you know anything about Pennsylvania?” Draco asked curiously. He must have realized whom he was asking then because he shook his head and started walking again. Harry was too busy trying to stop himself from leaping at him to process Draco’s question, but by the time he did Draco was already walking. Besides, Harry didn’t know a thing - had never heard of the place - so he didn‘t answer.
“Then where are you going?”
“To find wizards.”
“Oh…Did you see the buildings down the opposite way?” He watched happily as Draco looked at where Harry was pointing. Stupid Slytherin. That wiped the smirk off his face, not that it was still there but if it would have been…
Harry found he really wished he could be with anyone but Draco. Hermione would know what to do. Ron would entertain him. But Draco…Draco complained. Constantly. He complained about the heat, which was pretty bad but Harry couldn’t agree with him because it was him. He complained about walking, which also was getting tiring but Draco was the one who’d wanted to walk. He complained about the ‘weird stupid’ muggles and about the state of himself.
“Look what you did to my uniform. It’s dreadful. I look like some commoner. Some street bloke.” Draco shivered.
“Oh, shut it. I look the same as you. Though you do have that lovely deep purple bruise under your right ear.” Harry smiled as Draco frantically touched it then yelped in pain. Harry had to then stop his smiling because it threatened to open his lip up again.
Surprisingly, Harry realized, they hadn’t gotten into any fights in the past hour they’d been walking. At least, not physical fights. They would argue, nag, and maybe shove a few times but both seemed too mollified to fight. Perhaps it was because they were all each other had at the time.
“Look, there’s a convenience store!” Harry gasped, excitably. He was terribly thirsty.
“Good job,” Draco said sarcastically. “Now we just have to beg for money…Or steal.”
“Oh no. Nope. No way. We are not stealing,” Harry protested. He was Harry sodding Potter. He couldn’t just steal. Not to mention Hermione would have his head if he so much as thought about it. Then again…she wasn’t here now was she?
“It’s not like I, a Malfoy, want to steal,” Draco snapped. An old man looked over at them as they were now stationed in front of the store. “But I’m dead thirsty and I don’t have any money with me, neither do you and even if I did it would be wizard money so -”
Harry frantically covered Draco’s mouth with his hand. The blond boy mumbled for a moment then closed his mouth and settled for a glare.
“Go ahead then if you want but I’m not.”
Draco pulled away, muttered, “Bloody Gryffindor,” and then walked through the glass doors. Harry watched in surprise as Draco wondered idly throughout the store. Maybe he would get Harry a drink. Harry shook his head for even thinking about it. This was Draco Malfoy. He wouldn’t - and Harry saw him slide two drinks out of the freezer and search for somewhere to hide them.
“Got a problem?” some boy and few years older than him asked, gazing suspiciously at Harry.
Harry jumped as if bit and whirled around to face him sheepishly. “Erm, no. Um, nice store to look at, you know.”
“You a foreigner?” he growled.
Harry blinked. He wished Draco would hurry it up. He made the mistake of turning his head a fraction to try to see what Draco was doing, drawling the other boy’s attention to inside the store.
He narrowed his eyes and walked in. Harry heard him say, “Dad, I think that guy’s trying to steal,” before the door shut. Not long after it opened again and Draco shot out, running fast.
“Come on, Potter!” he yelled once he was at the end of the parking lot. The door opened and that teen and some older crusty - though Harry guessed he couldn’t say much considering how he looked - man came out.
Harry ran after Draco. He could hear the other men not far behind.
“Here!” And with Draco’s yell, a plastic bottle soured through the air. Harry’s seeker reflexes allowed him to catch it.
They were causing quiet a sight. Two grass-stained kids running down a sidewalk, past tightly knitted buildings, and two men racing after them shouting words like ‘thief,’ ‘scum,’ and ’you assholes.’
Harry finally reached Draco’s side and tugged him across the street, hoping to shake the men off between the cars coming down. Draco yelped as a car almost ran into them, blaring its horn the whole time, but Harry didn’t bother to say sorry since it was Draco’s fault they were running.
“You wanker. I thought Slytherins were supposed to be subtle.” Harry decided not to say it was he who had caused Draco to be caught.
“And I thought Gryffindors were brave not stupid,” he shot back, glancing to the cars they had just ran through.
“Yeah, well you could have ended up in muggle jail and then it would have been harder for them to find us. And would of had to bail us out.”
Draco decided to not answer and just continue running even though they had lost the men. Harry agreed because who knew how long it would be until the police showed up.
Ten minutes later, they saw a park and Harry half ran over to it. “Yay,” he said as he sunk onto a bench. Draco sat beside him, his back straight and looking uncomfortable. Harry snorted then looked at the drink Draco had stolen. “Root beer? I never had that before. Is it good?”
Draco appeared to be scandalized. “Me drink muggle beverages? Just whom do you take me for? I just grabbed.” He took a sip and grudgingly gave an incline of his head. Harry took that to mean it wasn’t too bad.
Harry opened it and drank, feeling only slightly guilty about the cool fluid slipping down his throat. He definitely wouldn’t tell Hermione about that. However, Ron would be okay. He would probably laugh.
“This was much more fresh air then I wanted,” Draco grumbled, pulling his lips away from the plastic bottle for a second. Harry silently agreed. Somehow he didn’t think this was what Dumbledore had meant.
The sun was beating down on them and Harry wondered how long they’d been there. Not too long but long enough. Maybe two or three hours. Hopefully they would be found soon, though Harry still wished they’d stayed back at the creek.
“Merry go round,” Harry breathed, overcome with memories. He stood up and walked over to the metal play equipment. It had a round red standing area and six yellow metal bars to hold onto and push around. He sat down and idly pushed with his feet so it rotated slowly.
When he had gone to muggle school they had one of them, though that one had looked much crappier. During recess, Harry would spend all his time on it, spinning until he became sick. Of course, after a while he got used to it and wouldn’t puke.
A shadow fell over Harry. He looked over to be blinded by the sun. Draco was standing over him, his foot on the merry go round, stopping it from moving. The sun was behind Draco so he was just a silhouette but his hair glowed brightly. Harry wanted to tug on the hair.
“What are you doing?” he said wearily. Then he yawned.
Harry yawned too. Yawning was contagious after all. “Sitting. Get on. It’s a merry go round. I’ll push it.”
Draco hesitated but Harry raised his eyebrows challengingly and Draco hopped on. He sat down and propped his feet up on one of the bars. Harry smirked and grabbed a hold of the bar opposite Draco.
“Hold on,” he warned before he ran as fast as he could around the toy. His hair was whipping around his face and his feet hurt from the continued walking.
Harry jumped on and smiled as Draco said in a bored tone, “This is childish. It doesn’t even go fast.” Although he had lain down and was now using his feet to keep from being flung off.
Harry grabbed the bars and leaned his back off, making it go even faster. He laughed and laid down too, his black hair mixing with Draco’s white-blond. Eventually the merry go round slowed down and Draco’s green face slowly switched back to pale. Harry grinned and crawled over. He hung his head over Draco and blew into it.
Draco opened his eyes wide then narrowed them. “Huh?” He blew back.
“Want to go again?” He grinned at the brief fear etched on Draco’s face before the blond brought his hand up and shoved Harry’s face away.
“No.”
“Scared?” Harry taunted. “Going to be sick?”
“No. I’m tired.” And to prove his point he yawned again, his eyelids shutting. Harry sighed and stretched out beside him, one yellow bar between them at their elbows.
After a silence Harry asked, “Do you think they even noticed we’re gone?” But Draco’s breathing was even and he’d fallen asleep. Harry sighed and closed his eyes.
Someone cleared their throat and Harry buried his face in the softness beside him. It smelt like grass. Since when had his blankets smelt like grass? Blearily he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was white. More clearly, a white shirt. He pulled his head away from Draco’s shoulder and looked over to the source of the noise.
A young woman was standing at their feet, tapping her foot. Her lips were pursed and Harry tried to figure out why she was looking at them like that. A mixture of irritation and disgust.
“Mom, Mommy! I want to go on now,” a little boy whined as he tugged at his mother’s skirt and watched Harry.
“Erm, we’re getting off,” Harry grumbled, the edges of sleep still upon him. At least he had realized they wanted them off. “Malfoy,” Harry said, turning to wake the other boy. He went to nudge him but saw that his hand somehow was tangled under Draco’s shirt. The skin there was soft and warm. Harry felt his face heat up as he pulled his hand away, his nails accidentally scrapping Draco’s stomach and waking him.
“What are you doing?” he asked. Harry felt briefly jealous that Draco could wake up and not sound groggy. Then Draco looked down at Harry’s hand that had stilled when he’d spoken. Harry watched his eyes travel down to their legs, which Harry just realized were entwined, and then to the cross woman and her little boy.
Draco smirked.
“Are you going or not?” she asked, her voice tight.
Harry jumped up but Draco grabbed his arm, making him fall on his arse to sit. Harry turned to him, ready to yell when he saw that Draco’s face was close enough for him to see the eyelashes perfectly. And he was moving closer.
His eyes were still open when Draco’s lips fell on his own. It wasn’t the woman’s gasp that made Harry realize Draco Malfoy was kissing him but when Draco rested his hand on Harry neck. Only, then something wet and thick was tapping against Harry’s lips and he parted them before he registered that it had been Draco’s tongue.
The blond boy was no novice at kissing. Harry could tell that even though he didn’t have much experience. Just Cho and that had been a kiss he never wanted to repeat. Harry wondered if you were supposed to be thinking about previous kisses when someone was kissing you.
Draco’s tongue slid from Harry’s teeth to massage his tongue. And that’s when Harry realized his own hands were moving to Draco’s waist - and not to push away. Kissing Draco didn’t feel wrong. It felt right. As right as when they were fighting. Only kissing him didn’t hurt as much. That’s when Harry pulled away and scampered off the merry go round.
He surveyed from the swings as Draco quirked his lips at the stunned woman and boy before he sauntered over to Harry, humor dancing in his grey eyes. Harry flinched when Draco grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the tiny hill to a run-down pavilion.
“Did you see her face?” He crackled joyfully as he perched on the nearest picnic table. Harry stood stiffly. “Stupid muggle bint. That was pure brilliance, wasn’t it, Potter?” He looked over and his smile twitched.
“Erm, yeah.” Harry shuffled his feet.
Draco sighed and rubbed his face. “It didn’t mean anything, Potter. I just didn’t like the look on her face.”
Harry nodded rapidly and mumbled something saying that he knew. Only his stomach was twisting and what was wrong with him? Why did he want to try that kissing thing again? Harry settled with scuffing his shoe on the cement and saying, “So where to now?”
When Draco didn’t answer he looked over to find Draco scrutinizing him. Harry imagined that his face was red, though he couldn’t be positive. It sure felt hot but maybe that was from the heat.
“You know,” he said, stepping off the table and stalking towards Harry. Draco had his fight-look again, but it didn’t look like he wanted to fight. Harry backed up but there was a wooden pole behind him and Draco was right in front of him. “The look on your face was pretty priceless too.”
“I don’t know what yo-”
Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s again and this time Harry’s eyes fluttered shut. When Draco’s tongue tried gaining entrance into Harry’s mouth, he shoved back and their tongues battled together, fighting in each other’s mouth. And this felt even more right. They were fighting and kissing and Harry never wanted it to stop. He twisted his fingers around Draco’s hair and tugged lightly. Draco pressed his body again Harry’s in response.
Harry pulled back for a breath of air, cursing himself for not being able to hold his breath longer.
“Breath through your nose,” Draco said before he ravished Harry’s neck. Harry tired of that quite quickly and used his fingers in the hair to pull Draco’s head back to his lips.
Harry really wanted leverage, wanted to press down on Draco. It wasn’t fair that Draco could push against him since the pole was behind Harry. He shoved forward, backing Draco onto the table. Suddenly Draco tried turning so Harry would be pressed against it when Harry bumped into the bench and they tumbled to the cement.
Draco was blinking in confusion and Harry rubbed his head where it had hit the edge of the table. He looked over at Draco and plucked a dead fly off Draco’s knee. He smiled as Draco grimaced at it, springing up to stand.
The gravel behind them crunched as a car pulled up. They both looked over and saw Professor McGonagall step out. She locked eyes on them then turned to talk to the driver. She shut the door and waited for the car to drive away before she walked over to them.
Harry stood next to Draco and brushed his shirt off, trying to get the wrinkles out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco trying to smooth his hair down, as it was no longer plastered to his head. Harry dismissed trying to fix his. It would be a mess no matter what.
“Finally,” McGonagall said when she reached them. “Why couldn’t you two just stay put?” she asked, pulling out a knut and peering around at their surroundings. No one else was there but that woman and her son up the hill. They were not looking their way. Harry looked pointedly at Draco, who stared back but trailed his eyes up and down Harry’s body. Harry flushed. Maybe it wasn’t so bad they had wondered off.
“How’d you find us, Professor?” Draco asked.
She nodded at him. “Dumbledore talked to your mother to say you were missing when she mentioned the portkeys. We figured out the ring was missing and she told us exactly where it lead to.” She sighed and shook her head.
“Then how’d you find us here?” Harry questioned, just as curious as Draco.
“I wondered around and heard a description of two boys that sounded just like you. You stole,” she reproached, looking sternly at Draco.
Draco rolled his eyes, his shoulder bumping against Harry’s. “We were thirsty.” Harry glanced up to the merry go round where they had left their root beers.
“Let’s go. And then you both can get in trouble.” Harry and Draco gaped and looked at each other. Why would they be in trouble? “You both were fighting,” she said, indicating their state before she pulled out her wand and whispered, “Portus. On the count of three. One.”
Harry peeked at Draco, wondering if there would be any kissing in the near future.
“Two.”
Draco looked over and Harry could see a faint smile working its way onto his face.
“Three.”
Harry reached out with Draco and Professor McGonagall, giving the park one last glance. He felt the uncomfortable feeling of being jerked forward by his navel but he also felt the pleasant sensation of Draco’s fingers fleetingly pressing against his side.
Length: 6503
Rating: PG13
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Dumbledore may have told them they needed fresh air but he hadn't meant like that.
Note: Written for hump_day101 using the prompt, 'a breath of fresh air' (fluff)
“I can’t believe it!” Professor McGonagall raved as she dragged a fuming Harry and Draco down an empty hallway to the stone gargoyles. “Dumbledore really shouldn’t be bothered about this, what with him being so busy, but it has gone too far. Too far.”
She released the struggling Slytherin for a moment to get a better grip. “Even Snape took points off Slytherin because of you,” she reminded Draco, still slightly in awe and shock about that herself. “Three times in two days,” she muttered. “Toothflossing Stringments!” shouted McGonagall, so angry she didn’t change her tone of voice to speak to the gargoyles.
Harry tripped as his head of house shoved them onto the rotating steps, stepping behind them but finally releasing their collars. He glared into the smirking grey eyes of Draco.
It wasn’t his fault the Slytherin kept jumping him, seemingly wanting to fight the muggle way now that the weather was fine. Nice weather did strange things to students cramped up in a castle, Harry had recently found out. Ron, for example, had taken to skinny-dipping in the great lake. With the Giant Squid, Harry mind kept supplementing.
At the first knock on the door, Harry and Draco both winced. They were in deep trouble, if finding their selves stationed outside the entrance to Headmaster Dumbledore’s office said anything.
“Yes, Minerva?” Dumbledore’s calm voice spoke as he gazed curiously at his two students.
Harry felt ashamed for his first time in the recent fighting with Draco. Dumbledore really did have plenty else to deal with, not adding petty classmate fights to the list. And that’s what it was, right? Petty classmate fights simply because they were bored…and Draco was insane. Since he started most of them.
It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Harry’s toes curled pleasantly with each fight. And he most definitely didn’t single Draco out and try to surreptitiously goad him into attacking. And if he did, well, it was because he plain hated Draco Malfoy.
Harry shook his head out of his thoughts and tried unsuccessfully moving out of McGonagall’s fierce grip. Draco’s robes, which were falling of his shoulder, taking the white shirt underneath with it, and revealing a patch of skin just to the edge of the neck that rolled forward slightly when Draco jerked his shoulder out of the Professor’s hand, were trailing across Harry’s not robe-clad ankle and it tickled. Harry stopped trying to move away from Draco’s robes when Dumbledore coughed, drawling his attention to the Headmaster.
“These two,” she rewrapped her hand around Draco’s collar and shook them slightly. Draco met Harry’s eyes from in front of McGonagall and rolled his eyes. Harry stared.
“They’ve been fighting nonstop for the past week. Three times in the past two days! And that’s just from what we’ve caught. Who knows how much more.” She finally let go of the boys’ collars. Draco fixed his while Harry sheepishly avoided Dumbledore’s gaze.
Eyeing both of them, Dumbledore questioned, “They don’t seem to have many marks for boys who have been fighting for the past week?”
And it was true. Harry had a split lip and a red spot was blossoming under Draco’s right ear. McGonagall had broken it up after Draco had leapt at Harry in the hall and impaled himself on Harry’s hand by mistake. Harry sported a split lip because he had bit it in surprise when a body landed on him. All in all, it had been one of their least impressive fights to date. Harry found it ironic that it was that fight that lead them to the Headmaster’s attention.
“Well - erm - Hermione’s been healing me, sir, ” Harry gave as an answer. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and looked at Draco for an answer. An answer that Harry was quiet interested to hear. Madam Pomphrey wouldn’t keep healing Draco’s bruises. Harry hoped he had to beg to get the fighting evidence to disappear because Harry sure had to beg Hermione to heal him. Ron even had to help him soften her.
“Potter hits like a girl,” Draco said with a smirk.
“I do not!” Harry bristled.
McGonagall figured it an opportune time to grab their collars again and Draco sighed heavily. Harry stuck his tongue out at him before he could stop himself. Draco actually burst out in laughter, and McGonagall scolded Harry for being so childish.
“I think,” Dumbledore started and everyone fell silent. He paused and Harry held his breath. He didn’t want detentions, especially when school was letting out in two weeks; he wanted to spend as much of that time as possible with his friends before returning to the Dursleys. “That what you two need is a breath of fresh air.”
Draco blinked and Harry followed his lead. They only had to go outside? McGonagall agreed with their surprise if her indignant squeak said anything, but Dumbledore held up his hand for silence and continued.
“Obviously you both are harboring much energy inside you and staying inside has only heightened it. In fact, I don’t see why neither of you are outside right now. It’s a gorgeous day. Most everyone else it out, I believe, lazing around the lake and such. You both will go outside and enjoy yourselves.”
McGonagall’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets. Harry purposely avoided Draco’s eyes, knowing the other boy wanted to share in the humor of the Gryffindor head of house not getting what she wanted.
“But what about their fighting?” she gasped.
“Right.” Dumbledore stroked his long beard pensively. “I believe twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin should do it. And the next fight shall result in detention, though I hope it won’t come to that.” His eyes twinkled as he excused them. Before Harry shut Dumbledore’s office door behind them he could hear McGonagall complaining that he’d gone too soft.
Draco chuckled freely once the stone shut behind them and the gargoyles sprang back into place. Harry was quiet glad that Draco wasn’t holding it in any longer because the odd sharp puffs of breath had made his stomach feel queasy. The lamb had looked undercooked at lunch that day. He’d have to ask Ron if he got cramps from swimming.
They walked silently to the front door leading to the grounds. Draco did try to trip him once but Harry wasn’t in the mood. He could just see his two best friends when he told them he’d lost even more points and had managed to be taken to Dumbledore. Hermione would tut and tell him to behave. Ron would rant with him about how annoying Malfoy is and how it was his entire fault but he would have this look in his eye, almost like he was worried about Harry, but Harry wouldn’t ask. Then, after he walked away from them, probably by other housemates slightly upset with him, they would converse together and cease once he wondered back.
That particular scene had happened much too often lately, mostly in the past week.
Harry squinted and huffed in the bright sunlight, starkly different from inside the castle. He had a strong desire to bite Draco’s neck. It was his fault after all.
He huffed again.
“What Potter, did I wind you that much?” Draco snapped, using his arm to screen the sun from his eyes. He had long since shed the robes and was dangling it in the crook of his other arm. Every now and then it would brush against Harry. Suddenly it did again.
“Stop it!”
Draco stopped and whirled in his spot to face Harry, his eyes glinting with confusion and that look he got every time they were about to fight. Harry secretly called it Draco’s fight-look and prided in being the one to make it appear.
“Stop what? Stop walking next to you? Stop beating you up in the hallways? Stop treating you like the scum you are? Stop want-” he cut off abruptly and walked away, over to the Quidditch pitch where an impromptu game was commencing with many spectators.
Harry stared after him in shock over his abrupt leave. “No,” he called. “Stop brushing your robes against me!”
Draco froze and riveted slowly. He had the most peculiar look on his face, and then Harry understood it was a look of mocking incredulously. Draco walked forward until he stood directly in front of Harry, a mere foot away. Harry became slightly nervous; he’d never been this close to the blond without having his hands all over the other boy. Because they were fighting that is.
Harry reached out and shoved him away. He had to because they were close enough for fighting but not touching. It felt wrong not to be touching when they stood so near each other.
Draco stumbled briefly, apparently caught unawares but came back. He lifted his robes in front of them like a shield. Harry narrowed his eyes. What the - but the robe moved closer and fell on Harry’s head, successfully blocking the sunlight.
The area was clear of people. Harry made sure of that after he snatched the robe off his head and before he leapt across the small distance and pinned Draco to the grass. Draco protested by screaming loudly. Panicky that they would get in trouble Harry stuffed his arm against Draco’s mouth.
The lithe body under Harry withered and then there was a hand on Harry’s arse, groping frantically. Momentarily stunned, Harry froze. Then Draco mumbled something around Harry’s arm and bit down, hard. Harry recoiled but saw that Draco’s gropage wasn’t to confuse Harry but to grab his wand.
The face of Harry showed betrayal as Draco thrust his wand between them. They’d never brought magic into the fights for the past week. And it wasn’t fair that Draco was introducing it with Harry’s wand, when he didn’t know where Draco’s was.
With a growl, Harry crushed down on Draco, who was still lying on the half-dead grass. Harry bit down on Draco’s neck, feeling satisfaction that he’d finally been able to do that, and knocked the wand out of Draco’s slack fingers. In fact, Draco had frozen under Harry. The brunette pulled back, looking confused.
Then Draco wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist and flipped the position, so that Harry was the one on the ground with Draco towering over him.
Harry’s head had hit something on the roll and his hand scrabbled with Draco’s robes they had rolled onto. He reached in the pocket just as Draco’s hand fell off of Harry’s head and slid in the pocket with his, grasping a small metal object. Harry must have kneed him harder then he’d thought.
Then his stomach felt funny, like it had jumped but Harry couldn’t recall Draco punching him there. All his attention was focused on Draco, who then did decide to start punching Harry. Everything was a whirl, in the back of Harry’s mind he realized the wind had really picked up. Harry tried pushing Draco away but was slammed down…and then they started to roll down a little hill.
Harry didn’t remember a hill but Draco’s foot met Harry’s shin and it really didn’t matter if there had been a hill before or not. All that mattered was getting Draco back for that.
Draco shrieked and whipped his head forcibly up to come in contact with Harry’s head, a sickening crack feeling their ears and stopping Harry from his activity of scratching Draco to rub at his sore head. But his hand touched something wet and suddenly he apprehended that the wet stuff was running down the side of his face.
And it wasn’t blood but water.
Harry blinked and sat straight, looking around frantically. They were lying on thick alive grass and moss. The sun was no longer beating down on them as tall trees surrounded them and there was a small bridge to the left with an indent in the grass showing where two boys had tumbled through.
He was thourally bewildered and looked down at Draco to share it when he saw he was straddling the blond. Draco wasn’t paying attention to him though as he was looking around, realization dawning on his face. But Harry was busy looking at the small creek behind Draco’s head. Draco was propped up on his elbows and his hair was dripping wet, a trickle of water running down his nose. Harry didn’t realize he was staring until Draco locked eyes with him.
“Teens,” someone muttered in irritation. Harry looked over to the bridge to see a woman no older than Mrs. Weasley walking by. She was wearing jogging clothes and Harry’s mind stopped.
They weren’t at Hogwarts anymore.
“Gerroff,” Draco grumbled, shoving Harry to the ground. Harry glared at him then looked up to the woman, who was already walking away.
“Wait!” he called, wanting to know what was going on, but Draco distracted him by grabbing his left hand and opening it from the closed position it had been in. Harry stared at him as he did the same to the other hand.
With a huff Draco thrust Harry’s hand away and started searching the ground. Harry just sat there staring at him, wondering if he’d lost it.
“Well, help me!” Draco yelled, jerking his head to look at Harry. His white-blond hair, heavy and somewhat longer now that it was wet, whipped him in the face. Draco sneered and pushed it away, a wet trail rolling down from his eye like a tear.
Harry opened his hands, palms up, and asked, “For what?”
Draco rolled his eyes but stopped mid second roll to let out a whoop and dash forward. He snatched something off the ground at the bottom of the little hill.
Harry stood and walked over, wondering what was causing Draco to frown. He looked down at the metal ring and frowned too. All that was over a lost ring? A plain old ugly lost ring.
“Bloody hell.” Draco looked up at Harry’s questionable noise. “This was a portkey,” he said, holding the ring between his pointer finger and thumb. “We’re in America.”
“…What?” Why the heck would Draco carry a portkey with him, especially one to America?
Draco snorted. “Figures you would send us here.”
Harry gaped. He bring them here? He wasn’t the one with a portkey, now was he? “Me?” he asked incredulously and slightly angry. Of course Draco would blame it on him. Could he expect anything else?
“Yes, you! You’re the one who attacked me and activated the portkey. Figures one of the few times you start the fighting something drastic happens.” He gave a long-suffering sigh.
Harry scrunched his face up. He couldn’t believe it. “Me activate the portkey? I’m not the one that even had it!” Harry yelled.
Draco shot back something but Harry wasn’t listening as he was too busy thinking. “Why’d you even have a portkey?” he cut into Draco’s tirade. The blond boy glared at him then sighed again.
“My mother gave them to me.” He crossed his arms and dared Harry to question further.
Harry did. “Them? There’s more? Why do you even need them? Where do they lead to?”
Draco kicked at the dirt, making it bellow up in a small cloud and stick to his shoe, wet from the droplets that had been dripping onto them.
“Fine,” Draco huffed. “I’m only telling you because I know you won’t let it go and who knows how long we’ll be stuck here till someone comes to get us.” He waited for Harry’s nod to continue before he said, “My mother gave them to me for safety, emergencies. There are four of them. The manor, Australia, other side of Britain, and America.” He gestured around them.
“Safety?” Harry questioned.
“Well, yes, Potter. Safety, I’m sure you’re familiar with the word? Who knows what might happen. I could be attacked, Hogwarts could be attacked, I could be stuck with you and want to get away.” He looked bitterly at the ring then threw it into the creek roughly. It bounced off a rock and landed at Harry’s feet.
Harry bent over and grabbed the ring. As he rubbed it he said, “It’s for if you get attacked? Who would be attacking besides Death Eaters?” Draco raised an eyebrow that Harry guessed was tweezed because it was too finely shaped. “Does that mean you’re not going to be a Death Eater?” Something in Harry’s chest contracted with those words. He’d never thought that Draco wouldn’t take it. He was a Malfoy and therefore would.
“That,” Draco said before he turned and headed up the small hill, “is none of your business.”
Harry stared after him, unmoving. Only when Draco started walking away did Harry jump and follow him. They were silent for a few minutes and Harry’s eyes were still adjusting to the sunlight. It was much brighter then at Hogwarts or under the trees at the creek.
They were walking on the side of the road, as there were no sidewalks. The area had middle class houses on the left and one with a lot of land and a small farm on the right. Mostly there were trees and grass. The houses weren’t too close together. It looked like they were walking on a back road, not busy and not too densely packed like a city.
“Wait,” Harry said, jogging up to Draco and flinging his arm out to stop him. Draco glowered at him but Harry ignored it. “Shouldn’t we wait where we got put at? So they can find us.”
Draco shoved Harry’s hand away and started walking. “I’m finding out where we are.”
His eyes widened significantly. Unbelievable. “You don’t even know where the port keys go to?”
Draco whirled around to face him; his hands were clenched tightly at his side into fists. “No, I don’t, okay! All I know is the country because my mother figured it would be safer the less people who knew.”
“So you don’t even know?” Harry almost laughed from the absurdity of it all. If someone handed him a portkey he would want to know where exactly it lead. Although, Harry relented, if someone he trusted, like Hermione or Ron, handed him it he wouldn’t constantly insist upon it. Harry wished Hermione were there now. She would know what to do.
“No, I don’t! Just - just shut it! I’m sick of you and your - your - you! I can’t believe out of all people I’m stuck with -” Draco cut off mid rant to look at the quiet clicking sound emanating from the other side of the road. Four people, a man and woman and two children were riding bikes past them.
“Excuse me,” Draco called politely. Harry couldn’t believe it. How could he go from furious one second to polite and calm the next. The family seemed to share Harry’s thoughts as the two adults peddled faster and the man looked at them funny.
“Hurry up,” the woman called behind her to the children. The youngest girl, who appeared to be having trouble with her tricycle if her panting and strained face said anything, was gazing at them in great interest. The older girl, probably about their age, tapped the young girl on the head then rode up to the adults.
“Where exactly are we?” Draco called after them, clearly irritated. Obviously, he didn’t like being ignored and looked at as if he were a freak. Harry couldn’t hold back his laughter. They did prove quite a sight. Draco’s hair was plastered to his head from the water, there was a red mark on under his ear, and teeth marks on his neck. Harry’s lip was bleeding from the renewed fighting and his hair must have looked something terrible. Not to mention they both were covered in grass stains and dirt.
Just as Harry expected, none of them acknowledged Draco. Except the little girl stopped and wiped her forehead with her arm. She breathed heavily then said, “You’re in Pennsylvania. Erm, Denver, I think. I’ll ask. Mommy! Mommy! Are we in Denver?”
Harry had been waving his hands at her to stop, not wanting the family to put their attention on them, but Draco had elbowed him harshly and it hadn’t worked anyway.
“Yes, good jo -” But then she looked back and her eyes opened in alarm. “Amanda! Come on.” The mother rode back and tugged her along. “What have I told you about talking to strangers?”
Amanda bit her lip and looked impishly back at Harry and Draco. “To be nice?” she said. Harry listened to her mother scold her until a thought came to him. He hit himself on the head, admonishing him for his stupidity. Really, he should have thought of it before.
“Where’s your wand?” Harry asked eagerly, bounding in front of Draco, unable to hide his glee of thinking of it before the Slytherin had.
Draco rolled his eyes but smiled weakly. “Back at Hogwarts with yours.” At Harry’s blank gaze he elaborated. “Mine was in my robes and yours you knocked out of my hand. Remember? Yet another thing you did wrong today.”
“Me?” Harry kicked a small rock at Draco but it missed by a long shot. “You took it out of my pocket,” he accused.
“Yes, well. What are you going to do?” He smirked and Harry desperately wanted to do something - anything - to wipe that look off his face. “Do you know anything about Pennsylvania?” Draco asked curiously. He must have realized whom he was asking then because he shook his head and started walking again. Harry was too busy trying to stop himself from leaping at him to process Draco’s question, but by the time he did Draco was already walking. Besides, Harry didn’t know a thing - had never heard of the place - so he didn‘t answer.
“Then where are you going?”
“To find wizards.”
“Oh…Did you see the buildings down the opposite way?” He watched happily as Draco looked at where Harry was pointing. Stupid Slytherin. That wiped the smirk off his face, not that it was still there but if it would have been…
Harry found he really wished he could be with anyone but Draco. Hermione would know what to do. Ron would entertain him. But Draco…Draco complained. Constantly. He complained about the heat, which was pretty bad but Harry couldn’t agree with him because it was him. He complained about walking, which also was getting tiring but Draco was the one who’d wanted to walk. He complained about the ‘weird stupid’ muggles and about the state of himself.
“Look what you did to my uniform. It’s dreadful. I look like some commoner. Some street bloke.” Draco shivered.
“Oh, shut it. I look the same as you. Though you do have that lovely deep purple bruise under your right ear.” Harry smiled as Draco frantically touched it then yelped in pain. Harry had to then stop his smiling because it threatened to open his lip up again.
Surprisingly, Harry realized, they hadn’t gotten into any fights in the past hour they’d been walking. At least, not physical fights. They would argue, nag, and maybe shove a few times but both seemed too mollified to fight. Perhaps it was because they were all each other had at the time.
“Look, there’s a convenience store!” Harry gasped, excitably. He was terribly thirsty.
“Good job,” Draco said sarcastically. “Now we just have to beg for money…Or steal.”
“Oh no. Nope. No way. We are not stealing,” Harry protested. He was Harry sodding Potter. He couldn’t just steal. Not to mention Hermione would have his head if he so much as thought about it. Then again…she wasn’t here now was she?
“It’s not like I, a Malfoy, want to steal,” Draco snapped. An old man looked over at them as they were now stationed in front of the store. “But I’m dead thirsty and I don’t have any money with me, neither do you and even if I did it would be wizard money so -”
Harry frantically covered Draco’s mouth with his hand. The blond boy mumbled for a moment then closed his mouth and settled for a glare.
“Go ahead then if you want but I’m not.”
Draco pulled away, muttered, “Bloody Gryffindor,” and then walked through the glass doors. Harry watched in surprise as Draco wondered idly throughout the store. Maybe he would get Harry a drink. Harry shook his head for even thinking about it. This was Draco Malfoy. He wouldn’t - and Harry saw him slide two drinks out of the freezer and search for somewhere to hide them.
“Got a problem?” some boy and few years older than him asked, gazing suspiciously at Harry.
Harry jumped as if bit and whirled around to face him sheepishly. “Erm, no. Um, nice store to look at, you know.”
“You a foreigner?” he growled.
Harry blinked. He wished Draco would hurry it up. He made the mistake of turning his head a fraction to try to see what Draco was doing, drawling the other boy’s attention to inside the store.
He narrowed his eyes and walked in. Harry heard him say, “Dad, I think that guy’s trying to steal,” before the door shut. Not long after it opened again and Draco shot out, running fast.
“Come on, Potter!” he yelled once he was at the end of the parking lot. The door opened and that teen and some older crusty - though Harry guessed he couldn’t say much considering how he looked - man came out.
Harry ran after Draco. He could hear the other men not far behind.
“Here!” And with Draco’s yell, a plastic bottle soured through the air. Harry’s seeker reflexes allowed him to catch it.
They were causing quiet a sight. Two grass-stained kids running down a sidewalk, past tightly knitted buildings, and two men racing after them shouting words like ‘thief,’ ‘scum,’ and ’you assholes.’
Harry finally reached Draco’s side and tugged him across the street, hoping to shake the men off between the cars coming down. Draco yelped as a car almost ran into them, blaring its horn the whole time, but Harry didn’t bother to say sorry since it was Draco’s fault they were running.
“You wanker. I thought Slytherins were supposed to be subtle.” Harry decided not to say it was he who had caused Draco to be caught.
“And I thought Gryffindors were brave not stupid,” he shot back, glancing to the cars they had just ran through.
“Yeah, well you could have ended up in muggle jail and then it would have been harder for them to find us. And would of had to bail us out.”
Draco decided to not answer and just continue running even though they had lost the men. Harry agreed because who knew how long it would be until the police showed up.
Ten minutes later, they saw a park and Harry half ran over to it. “Yay,” he said as he sunk onto a bench. Draco sat beside him, his back straight and looking uncomfortable. Harry snorted then looked at the drink Draco had stolen. “Root beer? I never had that before. Is it good?”
Draco appeared to be scandalized. “Me drink muggle beverages? Just whom do you take me for? I just grabbed.” He took a sip and grudgingly gave an incline of his head. Harry took that to mean it wasn’t too bad.
Harry opened it and drank, feeling only slightly guilty about the cool fluid slipping down his throat. He definitely wouldn’t tell Hermione about that. However, Ron would be okay. He would probably laugh.
“This was much more fresh air then I wanted,” Draco grumbled, pulling his lips away from the plastic bottle for a second. Harry silently agreed. Somehow he didn’t think this was what Dumbledore had meant.
The sun was beating down on them and Harry wondered how long they’d been there. Not too long but long enough. Maybe two or three hours. Hopefully they would be found soon, though Harry still wished they’d stayed back at the creek.
“Merry go round,” Harry breathed, overcome with memories. He stood up and walked over to the metal play equipment. It had a round red standing area and six yellow metal bars to hold onto and push around. He sat down and idly pushed with his feet so it rotated slowly.
When he had gone to muggle school they had one of them, though that one had looked much crappier. During recess, Harry would spend all his time on it, spinning until he became sick. Of course, after a while he got used to it and wouldn’t puke.
A shadow fell over Harry. He looked over to be blinded by the sun. Draco was standing over him, his foot on the merry go round, stopping it from moving. The sun was behind Draco so he was just a silhouette but his hair glowed brightly. Harry wanted to tug on the hair.
“What are you doing?” he said wearily. Then he yawned.
Harry yawned too. Yawning was contagious after all. “Sitting. Get on. It’s a merry go round. I’ll push it.”
Draco hesitated but Harry raised his eyebrows challengingly and Draco hopped on. He sat down and propped his feet up on one of the bars. Harry smirked and grabbed a hold of the bar opposite Draco.
“Hold on,” he warned before he ran as fast as he could around the toy. His hair was whipping around his face and his feet hurt from the continued walking.
Harry jumped on and smiled as Draco said in a bored tone, “This is childish. It doesn’t even go fast.” Although he had lain down and was now using his feet to keep from being flung off.
Harry grabbed the bars and leaned his back off, making it go even faster. He laughed and laid down too, his black hair mixing with Draco’s white-blond. Eventually the merry go round slowed down and Draco’s green face slowly switched back to pale. Harry grinned and crawled over. He hung his head over Draco and blew into it.
Draco opened his eyes wide then narrowed them. “Huh?” He blew back.
“Want to go again?” He grinned at the brief fear etched on Draco’s face before the blond brought his hand up and shoved Harry’s face away.
“No.”
“Scared?” Harry taunted. “Going to be sick?”
“No. I’m tired.” And to prove his point he yawned again, his eyelids shutting. Harry sighed and stretched out beside him, one yellow bar between them at their elbows.
After a silence Harry asked, “Do you think they even noticed we’re gone?” But Draco’s breathing was even and he’d fallen asleep. Harry sighed and closed his eyes.
Someone cleared their throat and Harry buried his face in the softness beside him. It smelt like grass. Since when had his blankets smelt like grass? Blearily he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was white. More clearly, a white shirt. He pulled his head away from Draco’s shoulder and looked over to the source of the noise.
A young woman was standing at their feet, tapping her foot. Her lips were pursed and Harry tried to figure out why she was looking at them like that. A mixture of irritation and disgust.
“Mom, Mommy! I want to go on now,” a little boy whined as he tugged at his mother’s skirt and watched Harry.
“Erm, we’re getting off,” Harry grumbled, the edges of sleep still upon him. At least he had realized they wanted them off. “Malfoy,” Harry said, turning to wake the other boy. He went to nudge him but saw that his hand somehow was tangled under Draco’s shirt. The skin there was soft and warm. Harry felt his face heat up as he pulled his hand away, his nails accidentally scrapping Draco’s stomach and waking him.
“What are you doing?” he asked. Harry felt briefly jealous that Draco could wake up and not sound groggy. Then Draco looked down at Harry’s hand that had stilled when he’d spoken. Harry watched his eyes travel down to their legs, which Harry just realized were entwined, and then to the cross woman and her little boy.
Draco smirked.
“Are you going or not?” she asked, her voice tight.
Harry jumped up but Draco grabbed his arm, making him fall on his arse to sit. Harry turned to him, ready to yell when he saw that Draco’s face was close enough for him to see the eyelashes perfectly. And he was moving closer.
His eyes were still open when Draco’s lips fell on his own. It wasn’t the woman’s gasp that made Harry realize Draco Malfoy was kissing him but when Draco rested his hand on Harry neck. Only, then something wet and thick was tapping against Harry’s lips and he parted them before he registered that it had been Draco’s tongue.
The blond boy was no novice at kissing. Harry could tell that even though he didn’t have much experience. Just Cho and that had been a kiss he never wanted to repeat. Harry wondered if you were supposed to be thinking about previous kisses when someone was kissing you.
Draco’s tongue slid from Harry’s teeth to massage his tongue. And that’s when Harry realized his own hands were moving to Draco’s waist - and not to push away. Kissing Draco didn’t feel wrong. It felt right. As right as when they were fighting. Only kissing him didn’t hurt as much. That’s when Harry pulled away and scampered off the merry go round.
He surveyed from the swings as Draco quirked his lips at the stunned woman and boy before he sauntered over to Harry, humor dancing in his grey eyes. Harry flinched when Draco grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the tiny hill to a run-down pavilion.
“Did you see her face?” He crackled joyfully as he perched on the nearest picnic table. Harry stood stiffly. “Stupid muggle bint. That was pure brilliance, wasn’t it, Potter?” He looked over and his smile twitched.
“Erm, yeah.” Harry shuffled his feet.
Draco sighed and rubbed his face. “It didn’t mean anything, Potter. I just didn’t like the look on her face.”
Harry nodded rapidly and mumbled something saying that he knew. Only his stomach was twisting and what was wrong with him? Why did he want to try that kissing thing again? Harry settled with scuffing his shoe on the cement and saying, “So where to now?”
When Draco didn’t answer he looked over to find Draco scrutinizing him. Harry imagined that his face was red, though he couldn’t be positive. It sure felt hot but maybe that was from the heat.
“You know,” he said, stepping off the table and stalking towards Harry. Draco had his fight-look again, but it didn’t look like he wanted to fight. Harry backed up but there was a wooden pole behind him and Draco was right in front of him. “The look on your face was pretty priceless too.”
“I don’t know what yo-”
Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s again and this time Harry’s eyes fluttered shut. When Draco’s tongue tried gaining entrance into Harry’s mouth, he shoved back and their tongues battled together, fighting in each other’s mouth. And this felt even more right. They were fighting and kissing and Harry never wanted it to stop. He twisted his fingers around Draco’s hair and tugged lightly. Draco pressed his body again Harry’s in response.
Harry pulled back for a breath of air, cursing himself for not being able to hold his breath longer.
“Breath through your nose,” Draco said before he ravished Harry’s neck. Harry tired of that quite quickly and used his fingers in the hair to pull Draco’s head back to his lips.
Harry really wanted leverage, wanted to press down on Draco. It wasn’t fair that Draco could push against him since the pole was behind Harry. He shoved forward, backing Draco onto the table. Suddenly Draco tried turning so Harry would be pressed against it when Harry bumped into the bench and they tumbled to the cement.
Draco was blinking in confusion and Harry rubbed his head where it had hit the edge of the table. He looked over at Draco and plucked a dead fly off Draco’s knee. He smiled as Draco grimaced at it, springing up to stand.
The gravel behind them crunched as a car pulled up. They both looked over and saw Professor McGonagall step out. She locked eyes on them then turned to talk to the driver. She shut the door and waited for the car to drive away before she walked over to them.
Harry stood next to Draco and brushed his shirt off, trying to get the wrinkles out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco trying to smooth his hair down, as it was no longer plastered to his head. Harry dismissed trying to fix his. It would be a mess no matter what.
“Finally,” McGonagall said when she reached them. “Why couldn’t you two just stay put?” she asked, pulling out a knut and peering around at their surroundings. No one else was there but that woman and her son up the hill. They were not looking their way. Harry looked pointedly at Draco, who stared back but trailed his eyes up and down Harry’s body. Harry flushed. Maybe it wasn’t so bad they had wondered off.
“How’d you find us, Professor?” Draco asked.
She nodded at him. “Dumbledore talked to your mother to say you were missing when she mentioned the portkeys. We figured out the ring was missing and she told us exactly where it lead to.” She sighed and shook her head.
“Then how’d you find us here?” Harry questioned, just as curious as Draco.
“I wondered around and heard a description of two boys that sounded just like you. You stole,” she reproached, looking sternly at Draco.
Draco rolled his eyes, his shoulder bumping against Harry’s. “We were thirsty.” Harry glanced up to the merry go round where they had left their root beers.
“Let’s go. And then you both can get in trouble.” Harry and Draco gaped and looked at each other. Why would they be in trouble? “You both were fighting,” she said, indicating their state before she pulled out her wand and whispered, “Portus. On the count of three. One.”
Harry peeked at Draco, wondering if there would be any kissing in the near future.
“Two.”
Draco looked over and Harry could see a faint smile working its way onto his face.
“Three.”
Harry reached out with Draco and Professor McGonagall, giving the park one last glance. He felt the uncomfortable feeling of being jerked forward by his navel but he also felt the pleasant sensation of Draco’s fingers fleetingly pressing against his side.