Fic: A Year In Review. Written for the hd_smoochfest 2010
Title: A Year In Review
Author: jtsbbsps_dk
Beta: maja_li
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, small background mention of Ron/Hermione.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry and Draco sit under a tree and ponder the past school year.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Flashbacks. Mention of minor character death.
Epilogue compliant? No, completely EWE.
Word Count: 3.900
Author's Notes: *** marks the beginning and end of a flashback. I’d like to thank Macmillan English Dictionary, the awesome phoenixacid for the read through and constructive criticism and the sweet and amazing maja_li for the awesome beta that made this fic a whole lot better *hugs*. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Prompt made by tealeaf523. First posted here.
The sun was shining so brightly that Harry could not help smiling. He had left his robe in the common room and rolled up the sleeves of his white button down as soon as he had stepped outside the main entrance. His feet dragged over the lush green grass as he wandered the grounds aimlessly. For once there was nothing urgent claiming his thoughts. The only NEWT he had left was Defence Against the Dark Arts the next day, and frankly, Harry thought he was justified in confidently choosing not to study the day before. It was not like he had not studied at all; Hermione had made sure of that. But he had seen his chance to escape her discipline when her mind had been elsewhere (because even Hermione could get distracted so close to an exam - an unforeseen perk of her and Ron’s current relationship).
And Harry did have other reasons to smile. This past year had been better than expected. All right, he might have had high expectations of a year at Hogwarts without Voldemort looming in his mind, but who could blame him? But the way the year had actually played out - Harry could not have imagined it even in his wildest dreams. And he had had some pretty wild dreams.
But dreams and nightmares both seemed so distant as Harry watched the glistening tentacles of the Giant Squid trying to splash water on unsuspecting sunbathers lying by the lake. A welcome breeze ruffled his black hair and cooled the nape of his neck. Harry tried to shake the rebellious strands out of his eyes (he really did need a haircut, it was growing too long), but had to push it back. And then his smile widened as he spotted something. Or rather someone.
That tree that someone was sitting under had always been Harry’s favourite on the grounds. The bright green leaves hung from slender branches and always reached the ground when summer came. The wind would make them sway and beneath them he could still feel the sunshine on his skin while enjoying a cooler place in the partial shadow. And even if it was not, it felt private. The cheerful green would block his sight to anything but the water surface. But that was not the reason for Harry’s widened smile. It was the person who was sitting under the tree and who Harry was already walking towards.
“Hi.”
“Hi yourself. Sit down?” Draco looked up at him with calm grey eyes and a crooked smile. Harry sat with his back against the wide trunk, nearly shoulder to shoulder with Draco and gazed as the occasional breeze also ruffled his blond strands.
“I can’t believe it’s been almost a year,” Harry sighed, relaxed.
***
It had been only two weeks into their so-called 8th year that Malfoy had asked him. Which in itself was a rather astounding thing, since he had barely said a word to anybody since ‘I’ll write’ to his mother on platform 9 ¾.
“Potter. Can I talk to you?” Harry stopped in his tracks, headed for History of Magic, and turned around with a questioning expression and attentive eyes.
“Mate, you don’t have to talk to him…” Ron put a hand on his shoulder. Harry just raised an eyebrow and gave him a look.
“I think I can handle this, Ron. I’ll just see you two in History, okay?” They nodded and Hermione gave a little wave as they turned and headed for the classroom.
“So, where do you want to talk, Malfoy?” The other nodded towards the now empty Transfigurations classroom and Harry shrugged, walking in and propping himself up on McGonagall’s desk with a grin. Malfoy entered and closed the door behind him. He leaned hips against the desk that was usually Hermione’s - in the front row and exactly opposite the teacher. Even though he was wearing his usual cold expression Harry could see him chewing on the inside of his left cheek. He made eye contact and the look made Harry shift slightly on the desk.
“So…”
“I feel like I should thank you. For giving me back my wand and… your testimony at the trials. But I really don’t want to.”
“So are you?”
“What?”
“Thanking me?” Harry smirked.
“You’re not making it any easier, that’s for sure.” Malfoy’s eyes narrowed.
“Right. You’re welcome, then.” Harry stood and turned towards the door.
“Why?”
Harry thought Malfoy looked like the question had been unintentional.
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
“The right thing,” Malfoy snorted. “Typically Gryffindor.” This time it was him taking steps towards the door, before Harry’s voice halted him and he turned around halfway.
“Wait… Listen, okay,” Harry sighed and he met the weary gaze and held out his hand. “Truce?”
Malfoy rolled his eyes and said unbelievingly, “you want a truce with me? You’ve already won.”
“We are both victims of this war.” Harry was still holding out his hand. Malfoy turned fully towards him, searching his face for something. Then he stepped forwards and slid his hand into Harry’s.
“Truce.”
***
“It feels like ages ago…”
Draco snorted, “yeah, and like yesterday at the same time.”
“Time passes so quickly,” Harry raked his fingers through his hair, looking down at the rich earth while resting his elbows on his knees.
“Tell me about it.”
“You see, there’re minutes, and each of them has sixty seconds, and they…”
Draco shoved him. “Stop being more of an idiot than necessary, Potter. You’ll end up in St. Mungo’s under treatment for self-inflicted insanity.” Harry just grinned back at him. They fell silent again until Draco said, “yeah, but nothing really happened until…” He let the unfinished sentence hang in the warm summer air. There was no need to finish it anyway.
***
One chilly October morning had the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry mumbling, whispering and talking more eagerly around their chosen breakfasts than usual. But that was not what got Harry’s alarm bells ringing. It was the chalky white look on Draco Malfoy’s face. Harry saw him stand, tightly gripping the morning issue of The Daily Prophet with trembling hands, and swiftly depart the Great Hall. All sorts of different looks followed him. Some hard and glaring, others tinted with malice, but it was the slightly pitying ones that made Harry reach out a hand towards Hermione and command. “Give me the Prophet. Now. Please.”Hermione looked at him and handed over the still unopened newspaper. Harry unrolled it and stared at the headline. NOTORIOUS DEATH EATHER LUCIUS MALFOY FOUND DEAD IN CELL! Harry cursed. So did Ron.
“The bastard had it coming.” Harry ignored Ron and started reading the article, which was claiming that even after a throughout search of both body and site they had yet to find signs of foul play.
“I hope he died of hunger,” Ron stabbed a piece of sausage viciously. “Or something worse.”
“Ron! Hasn’t anyone told you not to speak ill of the dead?”
“Come on, Hermione, you can’t mean… Remember what he did to us?!” Harry tuned out their bickering. It was a talent he had learned out of necessity by third year.
Harry did not see Malfoy for the next two days, but when he showed up in Potions Friday morning his face was still sickly and ashen.
The following afternoon had the 8th year common room filled with the usual Friday cheer. On the couch by the fireplace Neville talked enthusiastically to Parvati and Seamus about the world-renowned greenhouse he would be visiting the next day and Michael, Ernie and Justin were preparing the traditional Friday night gambling table (which the teachers knew nothing about) in the corner. Harry sat, as usual, with Ron and Hermione listening to the two’s light hearted argument over what to spend their weekend on. But only with half an ear. The rest of his attention was stuck on Malfoy, who was sitting in the opposite corner of the three gamblers with his nose buried in a book and uncombed hair shielding his face from Harry’s gaze. Harry admitted to himself he was getting worried. Usually Malfoy would be in his room at this time; he was a rare sight in the common room. And the uncombed hair was one thing, but he had noticed that Malfoy had not turned a page for at least twenty minutes.
Harry stood.
“Harry, where are you..?” Hermione fell silent as she saw where he was going. Harry reached Malfoy’s desk and was met with a grey glare.
“What do you want, Potter?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t hate him. I don’t want your fake pity,” Malfoy spat.
“I’m sorry you lost your father.”
Malfoy’s death glare became misty. He closed his tome of a book and walked out of the common room with it under his arm. No one really noticed besides Ron and Hermione.
“Harry, was that really necessary?” Hermione chided when he returned to his seat.
“Yeah.”
After a while Ron and Hermione had finally reached a compromise, deciding that they would spend the rest of Friday on studying in exchange for a completely study-free Saturday. This was why Harry found himself returning books to the library a quarter to midnight. He was mentally shaking his head over fussy librarians that insisted her most precious books, which were always the ones Hermione wanted, could not possibly spend a night outside the library. Apparently Madame Pince was certain the poor things would have immature adolescent drawings of various forms of genitalia covering their pages if left unguarded.
As Harry turned back to depart the seemingly deserted library, he froze. He could hear the softest of sounds in what seemed like complete silence and reacted to it instinctively by drawing his wand. But as he listened closely it sounded like nothing more than muffled, hitching and unsteady breathing. Harry silently drew closer to the sound. If he was able to help, surely he should offer… Harry froze when he saw Malfoy’s thin, uncombed hair looking almost silver in the moonlight that drifted in from a nearby window. The unsteady breathing halted suddenly, but Malfoy’s head stayed down.
“Whoever you are, go the fuck away.” His voice sounded slightly clogged and weak.
Harry had no idea what to do, but it seemed his legs were not about to obey Malfoy. He drifted closer. The last time he had seen Malfoy crying, he had most definitely done the wrong thing…
“Hey. Malfoy.”
“Potter. Just fucking great.” Malfoy seemed to be mumbling to himself. “Can’t you hear? Leave me the bloody hell alone!”
Harry had reached the table and he saw Malfoy’s shoulders quivering slightly. He could not help but lay a hand on his back. He instinctively wanted to calm him down, but it did not have the intended effect. Malfoy instantly became rigid. “Are you okay, Malfoy?” Harry immediately wanted to shoot himself for asking such an idiotic question.
“Does it look like I’m okay? Demented idiot!” The fact that he was still speaking into the table took some of the otherwise impressive amount of venom out of his voice. Harry sat down in the chair next to him and kept on trying to soothe him by stroking Draco’s back. It
was hellishly awkward, but the only thing Harry knew about this situation was that he could not just leave. He could not.
Harry had no idea how long he sat there, with his hand on Malfoy’s back, listening silently to his agony. Eventually the intervals between the shudders grew longer and the sound of breathing evened out. Just as Harry started to wonder if Malfoy might have fallen asleep, he felt his back straighten and he removed his hand as he saw him rub his eyes. Finally Draco raised his head and looked at him. He was wrecked. The eyes were so red around the edges that Harry could clearly see it in the darkness of the night time library and the still partly present moonlight was just strong enough to show the dried tear streaks marring Draco’s normally pristine skin.
“If you tell anyone about this …” and Harry was at the receiving end of a look that held as much threat as the flaming mouth of a dragon. He swallowed, but he looked steadily back.
“Do you honestly think I’d do that?”
Malfoy was silent for a while. “Crap. I really can trust you, can’t I?”
Harry simply nodded.
***
Draco still got very quiet when he thought about it, so Harry tried to lighten the mood. It was a shame to sit and brood when birds were chirping above them.
“And then you started… talking to me. You have no idea how baffled I was at first!” Harry could practically see Draco’s attention returning to the present.
“Well, the silence was driving me nuts, I had to do something,” he gave a small smile. “But, God, it was awkward in the beginning.”
Harry snickered, remembering the odd pauses and frantic mental searches for neutral conversation topics. It had been especially bad when they had run out of Quidditch news, which had happened from time to time. “Yeah.” Harry smiled. “But it always did feel different - spending time with you as opposed to everyone else.”
“Indeed,” Draco smiled. “None of the normal rules ever applied to us.”
Harry laughed. “Isn’t that the truth.”
“Of course it is. I said it.”
“Shut up. And if Ron and Hermione are following the ‘normal rules’ I’m glad we don’t. The things they fight about are just ridiculous…”
“Says the man who started shouting at me for wanting to get a haircut,” Draco added sardonically.
“Hey, you so started that fight!”
Draco just waved him off. “We do tend to regress when we fight,” he sighed. “We know how to get under each other’s skin far too well for our own good.”
“In more ways than one…”
“Fuck off, I’m trying to be serious here, Potter.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Actually that’s exactly why Hermione still thinks we won’t last.”
Draco frowned. “What? I thought she was supportive, you know, in her own slightly annoyingly persistent way.”
Harry sighed and rested his head against the trunk. “Well, she is. It’s just a feeling I get from her… I don’t know… looks and silences when we’ve just fought, things like that. Like she doesn’t think it’s rational. Like she can’t see the logic in us and that’s why she assumes we won’t last.”
“Emotions aren’t logical or rational in any way.”
Harry curled his fingers around a little tuft of grass and tore it from the ground. “I’m glad they aren’t. Besides,” Harry suddenly grins up at Draco, “if it wasn’t for her…”
***
“You know that we have an extremely important midterm Astronomy test tomorrow - and it’s one of your worst subjects, Harry!”
“Hey, I’m not that bad!”
“Well, if you want to be accepted into Auror School- apprenticeship- whatever! If you want it because of your skills, and not your reputation, you’re competing against people who wouldn’t even consider settling for an A. Which is what you got in your Astronomy OWL, if I remember correctly.”
“Hermione! Hagrid was attacked during that examination!”
“No excuses, Harry! I thought you wanted to prove yourself.” She crossed her arms and glared at him with raised eyebrows. Harry sighed in defeat.
“You’re an evil homework dictator, you know that?” Hermione just looked pleased, but then Harry saw Draco’s expression out of the corner of his eye, “and you’re coming with me to help me study!”
Draco’s eyes widened. “No way! I’ve been taught Astronomy since I was seven, I don’t need to study!” He looked frantically to Hermione for help, but Harry clearly saw the horror on his face when she just beamed.
“But then you’ll be a perfect tutor for Harry!”
Snickering, Ron handed over Harry’s astronomy textbooks and notes. Harry and Draco shot him a dual glare.
“I guess we’re going to the library then,” Harry sighed as he dragged a reluctant Draco out of the common room by the wrist.
Halfway down the first corridor Draco coughed. “You can let go of me now, you know. I won’t run away.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Harry let go a little too quickly and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.”
Draco snorted, “No need to apologise, Potter.”
Several hours later the two of them were still in the library, with all sorts of books and charts strewn around them. Draco was vicious in his tutoring, which Harry both hated and was insanely grateful for. With Malfoy mercilessly firing questions at him he had discovered how insecure he actually was in the specifics. Yes, he had a general understanding and mastering of the class, but when going into detail he was lost. And he would rather get to the bottom of that insecurity now, than discover it in the middle of the exam.
Harry yawned and stretched, only to proceed to slump over the table and massage his temples with his fingertips. “I’m knackered. And my brain is protesting.”
Draco sighed. “Harry, you’re nearly there. Just finish the chapter and I’ll be one hundred percent sure that you’ll have absolutely no trouble with the test tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know. I can do it.” Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses and then looked up at Draco. “Thank you for helping me. I know I’d never have been able to get so much done by myself. You really didn’t have to.” Draco met his eyes and gave him one of those small crooked smiles that somehow always made Harry want to blush and look down. If he had been a girl. Which he was not.
“You’re welcome, but really, it’s not like it’s a hardship for me to have a legitimate reason to pester you and make you squirm,” Draco smirked.
Harry just chuckled in response and forced his eyes to refocus on the chapter below him, but astronomy really was not very exciting, and this chapter.
The words got sort of blurry and Harry rested his head in his hand while reading, and…
… It was hot. The air burned down his throat. Harry struggled to breathe. Dark and bright colours blurred and swirled around him. He looked around through the smoke. Where was he? His eyes started tearing. Through the chaos he heard screaming. The flames were closing in on him. Faster. He couldn’t make it. Draco. He wouldn’t make it. But the outstretched hand was so close now. Harry reached. But the hand fell. He fell.
“…arry! Harry, wake up, damn it! Harry!”
Harry gasped and tried to calm his pounding heart with deep breaths.
“Merlin!” He rested his forehead on the book and felt Draco leaning forwards from the chair beside him to get a better look at his face, “I hate that nightmare.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Draco’s voice wavered slightly and it made Harry turn his head towards him. “I couldn’t wake you up for a while there…” His eyes looked worried and he touched his hand to Harry’s slightly clammy forehead, as if to check for a fever.
It was really a novel feeling. He had changed so much since the beginning of the year, but he was still Draco. And now here he was, completely unconscious about how his emotions shone through in his expression and the colour of his eyes Harry had always thought of as flinty steel was now… something else.
“I’m okay. Really. I get these nightmares from time to time.”
Draco sighed in relief and let his hand drop from Harry’s forehead only to have it land on one of Harry’s own and squeeze slightly. Then he stiffened, looked away and tried to snatch his hand back, but Harry was quicker and caught it. Harry straightened and rose from his horizontal position, and was that red tinted cheekbones he could glimpse now? He swallowed.
“Erm… hey, Draco. Look at me. Please.” He still held on to Draco’s cold and slender fingers. Draco hesitated, but then looked back at him with unexpected confidence. They searched each other’s eyes and Harry’s heartbeat started to accelerate again. They sat very close, their faces mere inches from each other.
“What are we doing?” Harry asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Do we want this?”
“I think we do. Don’t we?” Harry could see uncertainty creeping up in the previously confident gaze and took the plunge.
“To hell with it all,” he breathed and used the hand in his to draw Draco closer.
Then their eyes were closed and their lips touched. It simply felt soft at first, but then Draco tilted his head and kissed back, having regained his confidence. Harry twined his fingers with Draco’s and let Draco take the lead. Warmth rushed though his body. Draco’s fingertips left tingling trails as his other hand came up and cupped the back of Harry’s neck. Then Draco nibbled his lower lip and opened his mouth slightly. Harry thought it was probably the best idea he had ever had and quickly returned the favour.
When their tongues brushed something ignited inside Harry. At least it felt that way; he tilted his head forward and gave as good as he got, eager for more. He could feel Draco smile against his lips and his stomach did a triple somersault. Harry’s breathing sped up as he explored Draco’s mouth and he felt equally speeding breath tickle his own senses. It was hot and slick and oh so good and he could not get enough. He kept leaning forward and then suddenly he felt hands on his hips dragging him forward and somehow he ended up straddling Draco’s lap. And that was better. A lot better. As their kiss continued increasing in intensity Draco’s hands started to wander on Harry’s back. Under Harry’s shirt.
“Oh, God, Draco,” Harry panted.
“Mmm…” Draco hummed and grinded his now extremely heated groin up into Harry’s. He gasped.
“Why didn’t we do this weeks… months ago…?” His mumbling was almost incoherent as he tried to loosen Draco’s tie.
“Years ago…”
“Who’s there? Lumos.”
They froze instantly, which Harry would have thought was impossible.
***
Draco chuckled, “Salazar, yeah. The look on her face. I think we scared Madam Pince for life.”
“I’m sorry I missed it. I just couldn’t do anything but hide my face in your neck. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mortified! And your neck is a lovely place,” Harry leaned his head on Draco’s shoulder and nuzzled said neck. Draco found Harry’s hand and twined their fingers. They grinned.
“I never thought I’d be grateful for my nightmares about the Fiendfyre.”
“You don’t still have those, do you?”
“It’s been three weeks since the last one.”
“Good.”
They sat and breathed in the fresh summer air, listening to the Squid splashing and first years laughing. It seemed so surreal that the place had been in ruins just a year ago, but Harry simply inhaled the lovely scent that was Draco’s hair (not that he would ever tell him that, the git was still way too vain) and fresh grass and exhaled the depressing thoughts.
“I can’t believe it’s already been three months since that night.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Draco smiled down at him, cupped his face and kissed him.
The End.
Author: jtsbbsps_dk
Beta: maja_li
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, small background mention of Ron/Hermione.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry and Draco sit under a tree and ponder the past school year.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Flashbacks. Mention of minor character death.
Epilogue compliant? No, completely EWE.
Word Count: 3.900
Author's Notes: *** marks the beginning and end of a flashback. I’d like to thank Macmillan English Dictionary, the awesome phoenixacid for the read through and constructive criticism and the sweet and amazing maja_li for the awesome beta that made this fic a whole lot better *hugs*. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Prompt made by tealeaf523. First posted here.
The sun was shining so brightly that Harry could not help smiling. He had left his robe in the common room and rolled up the sleeves of his white button down as soon as he had stepped outside the main entrance. His feet dragged over the lush green grass as he wandered the grounds aimlessly. For once there was nothing urgent claiming his thoughts. The only NEWT he had left was Defence Against the Dark Arts the next day, and frankly, Harry thought he was justified in confidently choosing not to study the day before. It was not like he had not studied at all; Hermione had made sure of that. But he had seen his chance to escape her discipline when her mind had been elsewhere (because even Hermione could get distracted so close to an exam - an unforeseen perk of her and Ron’s current relationship).
And Harry did have other reasons to smile. This past year had been better than expected. All right, he might have had high expectations of a year at Hogwarts without Voldemort looming in his mind, but who could blame him? But the way the year had actually played out - Harry could not have imagined it even in his wildest dreams. And he had had some pretty wild dreams.
But dreams and nightmares both seemed so distant as Harry watched the glistening tentacles of the Giant Squid trying to splash water on unsuspecting sunbathers lying by the lake. A welcome breeze ruffled his black hair and cooled the nape of his neck. Harry tried to shake the rebellious strands out of his eyes (he really did need a haircut, it was growing too long), but had to push it back. And then his smile widened as he spotted something. Or rather someone.
That tree that someone was sitting under had always been Harry’s favourite on the grounds. The bright green leaves hung from slender branches and always reached the ground when summer came. The wind would make them sway and beneath them he could still feel the sunshine on his skin while enjoying a cooler place in the partial shadow. And even if it was not, it felt private. The cheerful green would block his sight to anything but the water surface. But that was not the reason for Harry’s widened smile. It was the person who was sitting under the tree and who Harry was already walking towards.
“Hi.”
“Hi yourself. Sit down?” Draco looked up at him with calm grey eyes and a crooked smile. Harry sat with his back against the wide trunk, nearly shoulder to shoulder with Draco and gazed as the occasional breeze also ruffled his blond strands.
“I can’t believe it’s been almost a year,” Harry sighed, relaxed.
***
It had been only two weeks into their so-called 8th year that Malfoy had asked him. Which in itself was a rather astounding thing, since he had barely said a word to anybody since ‘I’ll write’ to his mother on platform 9 ¾.
“Potter. Can I talk to you?” Harry stopped in his tracks, headed for History of Magic, and turned around with a questioning expression and attentive eyes.
“Mate, you don’t have to talk to him…” Ron put a hand on his shoulder. Harry just raised an eyebrow and gave him a look.
“I think I can handle this, Ron. I’ll just see you two in History, okay?” They nodded and Hermione gave a little wave as they turned and headed for the classroom.
“So, where do you want to talk, Malfoy?” The other nodded towards the now empty Transfigurations classroom and Harry shrugged, walking in and propping himself up on McGonagall’s desk with a grin. Malfoy entered and closed the door behind him. He leaned hips against the desk that was usually Hermione’s - in the front row and exactly opposite the teacher. Even though he was wearing his usual cold expression Harry could see him chewing on the inside of his left cheek. He made eye contact and the look made Harry shift slightly on the desk.
“So…”
“I feel like I should thank you. For giving me back my wand and… your testimony at the trials. But I really don’t want to.”
“So are you?”
“What?”
“Thanking me?” Harry smirked.
“You’re not making it any easier, that’s for sure.” Malfoy’s eyes narrowed.
“Right. You’re welcome, then.” Harry stood and turned towards the door.
“Why?”
Harry thought Malfoy looked like the question had been unintentional.
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
“The right thing,” Malfoy snorted. “Typically Gryffindor.” This time it was him taking steps towards the door, before Harry’s voice halted him and he turned around halfway.
“Wait… Listen, okay,” Harry sighed and he met the weary gaze and held out his hand. “Truce?”
Malfoy rolled his eyes and said unbelievingly, “you want a truce with me? You’ve already won.”
“We are both victims of this war.” Harry was still holding out his hand. Malfoy turned fully towards him, searching his face for something. Then he stepped forwards and slid his hand into Harry’s.
“Truce.”
***
“It feels like ages ago…”
Draco snorted, “yeah, and like yesterday at the same time.”
“Time passes so quickly,” Harry raked his fingers through his hair, looking down at the rich earth while resting his elbows on his knees.
“Tell me about it.”
“You see, there’re minutes, and each of them has sixty seconds, and they…”
Draco shoved him. “Stop being more of an idiot than necessary, Potter. You’ll end up in St. Mungo’s under treatment for self-inflicted insanity.” Harry just grinned back at him. They fell silent again until Draco said, “yeah, but nothing really happened until…” He let the unfinished sentence hang in the warm summer air. There was no need to finish it anyway.
***
One chilly October morning had the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry mumbling, whispering and talking more eagerly around their chosen breakfasts than usual. But that was not what got Harry’s alarm bells ringing. It was the chalky white look on Draco Malfoy’s face. Harry saw him stand, tightly gripping the morning issue of The Daily Prophet with trembling hands, and swiftly depart the Great Hall. All sorts of different looks followed him. Some hard and glaring, others tinted with malice, but it was the slightly pitying ones that made Harry reach out a hand towards Hermione and command. “Give me the Prophet. Now. Please.”Hermione looked at him and handed over the still unopened newspaper. Harry unrolled it and stared at the headline. NOTORIOUS DEATH EATHER LUCIUS MALFOY FOUND DEAD IN CELL! Harry cursed. So did Ron.
“The bastard had it coming.” Harry ignored Ron and started reading the article, which was claiming that even after a throughout search of both body and site they had yet to find signs of foul play.
“I hope he died of hunger,” Ron stabbed a piece of sausage viciously. “Or something worse.”
“Ron! Hasn’t anyone told you not to speak ill of the dead?”
“Come on, Hermione, you can’t mean… Remember what he did to us?!” Harry tuned out their bickering. It was a talent he had learned out of necessity by third year.
Harry did not see Malfoy for the next two days, but when he showed up in Potions Friday morning his face was still sickly and ashen.
The following afternoon had the 8th year common room filled with the usual Friday cheer. On the couch by the fireplace Neville talked enthusiastically to Parvati and Seamus about the world-renowned greenhouse he would be visiting the next day and Michael, Ernie and Justin were preparing the traditional Friday night gambling table (which the teachers knew nothing about) in the corner. Harry sat, as usual, with Ron and Hermione listening to the two’s light hearted argument over what to spend their weekend on. But only with half an ear. The rest of his attention was stuck on Malfoy, who was sitting in the opposite corner of the three gamblers with his nose buried in a book and uncombed hair shielding his face from Harry’s gaze. Harry admitted to himself he was getting worried. Usually Malfoy would be in his room at this time; he was a rare sight in the common room. And the uncombed hair was one thing, but he had noticed that Malfoy had not turned a page for at least twenty minutes.
Harry stood.
“Harry, where are you..?” Hermione fell silent as she saw where he was going. Harry reached Malfoy’s desk and was met with a grey glare.
“What do you want, Potter?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t hate him. I don’t want your fake pity,” Malfoy spat.
“I’m sorry you lost your father.”
Malfoy’s death glare became misty. He closed his tome of a book and walked out of the common room with it under his arm. No one really noticed besides Ron and Hermione.
“Harry, was that really necessary?” Hermione chided when he returned to his seat.
“Yeah.”
After a while Ron and Hermione had finally reached a compromise, deciding that they would spend the rest of Friday on studying in exchange for a completely study-free Saturday. This was why Harry found himself returning books to the library a quarter to midnight. He was mentally shaking his head over fussy librarians that insisted her most precious books, which were always the ones Hermione wanted, could not possibly spend a night outside the library. Apparently Madame Pince was certain the poor things would have immature adolescent drawings of various forms of genitalia covering their pages if left unguarded.
As Harry turned back to depart the seemingly deserted library, he froze. He could hear the softest of sounds in what seemed like complete silence and reacted to it instinctively by drawing his wand. But as he listened closely it sounded like nothing more than muffled, hitching and unsteady breathing. Harry silently drew closer to the sound. If he was able to help, surely he should offer… Harry froze when he saw Malfoy’s thin, uncombed hair looking almost silver in the moonlight that drifted in from a nearby window. The unsteady breathing halted suddenly, but Malfoy’s head stayed down.
“Whoever you are, go the fuck away.” His voice sounded slightly clogged and weak.
Harry had no idea what to do, but it seemed his legs were not about to obey Malfoy. He drifted closer. The last time he had seen Malfoy crying, he had most definitely done the wrong thing…
“Hey. Malfoy.”
“Potter. Just fucking great.” Malfoy seemed to be mumbling to himself. “Can’t you hear? Leave me the bloody hell alone!”
Harry had reached the table and he saw Malfoy’s shoulders quivering slightly. He could not help but lay a hand on his back. He instinctively wanted to calm him down, but it did not have the intended effect. Malfoy instantly became rigid. “Are you okay, Malfoy?” Harry immediately wanted to shoot himself for asking such an idiotic question.
“Does it look like I’m okay? Demented idiot!” The fact that he was still speaking into the table took some of the otherwise impressive amount of venom out of his voice. Harry sat down in the chair next to him and kept on trying to soothe him by stroking Draco’s back. It
was hellishly awkward, but the only thing Harry knew about this situation was that he could not just leave. He could not.
Harry had no idea how long he sat there, with his hand on Malfoy’s back, listening silently to his agony. Eventually the intervals between the shudders grew longer and the sound of breathing evened out. Just as Harry started to wonder if Malfoy might have fallen asleep, he felt his back straighten and he removed his hand as he saw him rub his eyes. Finally Draco raised his head and looked at him. He was wrecked. The eyes were so red around the edges that Harry could clearly see it in the darkness of the night time library and the still partly present moonlight was just strong enough to show the dried tear streaks marring Draco’s normally pristine skin.
“If you tell anyone about this …” and Harry was at the receiving end of a look that held as much threat as the flaming mouth of a dragon. He swallowed, but he looked steadily back.
“Do you honestly think I’d do that?”
Malfoy was silent for a while. “Crap. I really can trust you, can’t I?”
Harry simply nodded.
***
Draco still got very quiet when he thought about it, so Harry tried to lighten the mood. It was a shame to sit and brood when birds were chirping above them.
“And then you started… talking to me. You have no idea how baffled I was at first!” Harry could practically see Draco’s attention returning to the present.
“Well, the silence was driving me nuts, I had to do something,” he gave a small smile. “But, God, it was awkward in the beginning.”
Harry snickered, remembering the odd pauses and frantic mental searches for neutral conversation topics. It had been especially bad when they had run out of Quidditch news, which had happened from time to time. “Yeah.” Harry smiled. “But it always did feel different - spending time with you as opposed to everyone else.”
“Indeed,” Draco smiled. “None of the normal rules ever applied to us.”
Harry laughed. “Isn’t that the truth.”
“Of course it is. I said it.”
“Shut up. And if Ron and Hermione are following the ‘normal rules’ I’m glad we don’t. The things they fight about are just ridiculous…”
“Says the man who started shouting at me for wanting to get a haircut,” Draco added sardonically.
“Hey, you so started that fight!”
Draco just waved him off. “We do tend to regress when we fight,” he sighed. “We know how to get under each other’s skin far too well for our own good.”
“In more ways than one…”
“Fuck off, I’m trying to be serious here, Potter.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Actually that’s exactly why Hermione still thinks we won’t last.”
Draco frowned. “What? I thought she was supportive, you know, in her own slightly annoyingly persistent way.”
Harry sighed and rested his head against the trunk. “Well, she is. It’s just a feeling I get from her… I don’t know… looks and silences when we’ve just fought, things like that. Like she doesn’t think it’s rational. Like she can’t see the logic in us and that’s why she assumes we won’t last.”
“Emotions aren’t logical or rational in any way.”
Harry curled his fingers around a little tuft of grass and tore it from the ground. “I’m glad they aren’t. Besides,” Harry suddenly grins up at Draco, “if it wasn’t for her…”
***
“You know that we have an extremely important midterm Astronomy test tomorrow - and it’s one of your worst subjects, Harry!”
“Hey, I’m not that bad!”
“Well, if you want to be accepted into Auror School- apprenticeship- whatever! If you want it because of your skills, and not your reputation, you’re competing against people who wouldn’t even consider settling for an A. Which is what you got in your Astronomy OWL, if I remember correctly.”
“Hermione! Hagrid was attacked during that examination!”
“No excuses, Harry! I thought you wanted to prove yourself.” She crossed her arms and glared at him with raised eyebrows. Harry sighed in defeat.
“You’re an evil homework dictator, you know that?” Hermione just looked pleased, but then Harry saw Draco’s expression out of the corner of his eye, “and you’re coming with me to help me study!”
Draco’s eyes widened. “No way! I’ve been taught Astronomy since I was seven, I don’t need to study!” He looked frantically to Hermione for help, but Harry clearly saw the horror on his face when she just beamed.
“But then you’ll be a perfect tutor for Harry!”
Snickering, Ron handed over Harry’s astronomy textbooks and notes. Harry and Draco shot him a dual glare.
“I guess we’re going to the library then,” Harry sighed as he dragged a reluctant Draco out of the common room by the wrist.
Halfway down the first corridor Draco coughed. “You can let go of me now, you know. I won’t run away.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Harry let go a little too quickly and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.”
Draco snorted, “No need to apologise, Potter.”
Several hours later the two of them were still in the library, with all sorts of books and charts strewn around them. Draco was vicious in his tutoring, which Harry both hated and was insanely grateful for. With Malfoy mercilessly firing questions at him he had discovered how insecure he actually was in the specifics. Yes, he had a general understanding and mastering of the class, but when going into detail he was lost. And he would rather get to the bottom of that insecurity now, than discover it in the middle of the exam.
Harry yawned and stretched, only to proceed to slump over the table and massage his temples with his fingertips. “I’m knackered. And my brain is protesting.”
Draco sighed. “Harry, you’re nearly there. Just finish the chapter and I’ll be one hundred percent sure that you’ll have absolutely no trouble with the test tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know. I can do it.” Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses and then looked up at Draco. “Thank you for helping me. I know I’d never have been able to get so much done by myself. You really didn’t have to.” Draco met his eyes and gave him one of those small crooked smiles that somehow always made Harry want to blush and look down. If he had been a girl. Which he was not.
“You’re welcome, but really, it’s not like it’s a hardship for me to have a legitimate reason to pester you and make you squirm,” Draco smirked.
Harry just chuckled in response and forced his eyes to refocus on the chapter below him, but astronomy really was not very exciting, and this chapter.
The words got sort of blurry and Harry rested his head in his hand while reading, and…
… It was hot. The air burned down his throat. Harry struggled to breathe. Dark and bright colours blurred and swirled around him. He looked around through the smoke. Where was he? His eyes started tearing. Through the chaos he heard screaming. The flames were closing in on him. Faster. He couldn’t make it. Draco. He wouldn’t make it. But the outstretched hand was so close now. Harry reached. But the hand fell. He fell.
“…arry! Harry, wake up, damn it! Harry!”
Harry gasped and tried to calm his pounding heart with deep breaths.
“Merlin!” He rested his forehead on the book and felt Draco leaning forwards from the chair beside him to get a better look at his face, “I hate that nightmare.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Draco’s voice wavered slightly and it made Harry turn his head towards him. “I couldn’t wake you up for a while there…” His eyes looked worried and he touched his hand to Harry’s slightly clammy forehead, as if to check for a fever.
It was really a novel feeling. He had changed so much since the beginning of the year, but he was still Draco. And now here he was, completely unconscious about how his emotions shone through in his expression and the colour of his eyes Harry had always thought of as flinty steel was now… something else.
“I’m okay. Really. I get these nightmares from time to time.”
Draco sighed in relief and let his hand drop from Harry’s forehead only to have it land on one of Harry’s own and squeeze slightly. Then he stiffened, looked away and tried to snatch his hand back, but Harry was quicker and caught it. Harry straightened and rose from his horizontal position, and was that red tinted cheekbones he could glimpse now? He swallowed.
“Erm… hey, Draco. Look at me. Please.” He still held on to Draco’s cold and slender fingers. Draco hesitated, but then looked back at him with unexpected confidence. They searched each other’s eyes and Harry’s heartbeat started to accelerate again. They sat very close, their faces mere inches from each other.
“What are we doing?” Harry asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Do we want this?”
“I think we do. Don’t we?” Harry could see uncertainty creeping up in the previously confident gaze and took the plunge.
“To hell with it all,” he breathed and used the hand in his to draw Draco closer.
Then their eyes were closed and their lips touched. It simply felt soft at first, but then Draco tilted his head and kissed back, having regained his confidence. Harry twined his fingers with Draco’s and let Draco take the lead. Warmth rushed though his body. Draco’s fingertips left tingling trails as his other hand came up and cupped the back of Harry’s neck. Then Draco nibbled his lower lip and opened his mouth slightly. Harry thought it was probably the best idea he had ever had and quickly returned the favour.
When their tongues brushed something ignited inside Harry. At least it felt that way; he tilted his head forward and gave as good as he got, eager for more. He could feel Draco smile against his lips and his stomach did a triple somersault. Harry’s breathing sped up as he explored Draco’s mouth and he felt equally speeding breath tickle his own senses. It was hot and slick and oh so good and he could not get enough. He kept leaning forward and then suddenly he felt hands on his hips dragging him forward and somehow he ended up straddling Draco’s lap. And that was better. A lot better. As their kiss continued increasing in intensity Draco’s hands started to wander on Harry’s back. Under Harry’s shirt.
“Oh, God, Draco,” Harry panted.
“Mmm…” Draco hummed and grinded his now extremely heated groin up into Harry’s. He gasped.
“Why didn’t we do this weeks… months ago…?” His mumbling was almost incoherent as he tried to loosen Draco’s tie.
“Years ago…”
“Who’s there? Lumos.”
They froze instantly, which Harry would have thought was impossible.
***
Draco chuckled, “Salazar, yeah. The look on her face. I think we scared Madam Pince for life.”
“I’m sorry I missed it. I just couldn’t do anything but hide my face in your neck. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mortified! And your neck is a lovely place,” Harry leaned his head on Draco’s shoulder and nuzzled said neck. Draco found Harry’s hand and twined their fingers. They grinned.
“I never thought I’d be grateful for my nightmares about the Fiendfyre.”
“You don’t still have those, do you?”
“It’s been three weeks since the last one.”
“Good.”
They sat and breathed in the fresh summer air, listening to the Squid splashing and first years laughing. It seemed so surreal that the place had been in ruins just a year ago, but Harry simply inhaled the lovely scent that was Draco’s hair (not that he would ever tell him that, the git was still way too vain) and fresh grass and exhaled the depressing thoughts.
“I can’t believe it’s already been three months since that night.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Draco smiled down at him, cupped his face and kissed him.
The End.