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"Hedwig," Harry called into the darkened owlrey. He saw her glide down from the rafters in the silvery moonlight, and held out his arm for her to perch on. She nuzzled into his shoulder and cooed, and Harry offered her a little snack. When she took it a smile flashed across his face, but he sighed and returned his gaze to the window a moment later. The grounds were bathed in moonlight- the lake shimmered with it- but it did little to cheer Harry. The tears fell anyway, and neither Hedwig's loving cuddles nor Hogwarts itself could stop them.
This had been going on for some time now; since the war ended, really. The happiness of returning to the place where he had always felt wanted couldn't overshadow the guilt and grief Harry felt for the life lost during the war. The empty spaces in class where his friends should be and the empty chairs at the dinner table were constant reminders of what had been lost. Time heals all wounds, someone had told him. What happens when you lose your spirit?
He and Ginny had drifted apart once the crisis was over- they had only gotten together out of need for comfort in the first place, and neither had the will to continue the relationship after it had served its purpose. Hermione and Ron, however, had strengthened their bond with the shared experiences of the war, and Harry knew that Ron was waiting for the 'perfect moment' to propose. Harry would sometimes just watch them be together, and couldn't help but wish for the same kind of familiarity and ease and love for himself. Who wouldn't want the pure connection his two best friends shared? Who indeed…
oOoOoOoOo
Draco was sitting in a corner of the owlrey absently listening to the birds coo, lost in thought, when the door opened. The dusty air swirled around the warm room as the door creaked open, and the Golden Boy walked in. That boy has a complete disregard for the rules, Draco thought, then shook his head softly. Who was he to talk? Pot, meet kettle.
Draco was going to stand and walk out of the shadows, but the childish hopelessness on Potter's face kept him still. It was an emotion Draco had been feeling himself, and he found himself quite unable to want to make Harry feel worse. With his father in Azkaban and his mother close to losing it, Draco was always on edge. People had warmed up to him since the end of the war, but he felt as if he was constantly floundering, barely staying afloat.
The war had changed Draco, just like everyone else. He couldn't keep his façade up and pretend like the war had not affected him- it had. He couldn't be cold to the people who were now saying hello to him in the hallways and smiling empathetically at him when a teacher docked points. The hard shell Draco had always hidden behind was melting, and he was exposed and raw for the first time in his life, feeling everything like a blind man with new eyes.
Potter called to his owl, and Draco grudgingly had to admit she was a beauty. Snowy white, shining in the moonlight. Draco looked at Potter's face and drew in a soft gasp- the boy was crying! What had made him do that? Draco hadn't even shown himself, and yet tears blazed their way down Harry's cheeks and dropped onto his owl's feathers. He watched as Harry nudged aside his glasses with his fist to rub away the tears, but more took their place and he gave up. Draco listened to the Chosen One's short little breaths and wanted to know why he suddenly wanted to make the boy's pain go away.
oOoOoOoOo
"Hey 'arry, Malfoy's starin' atchah again," Ron said through a mouthful of treacle tart. Harry had noticed the grey eyes on him, of course. He always noticed. But Harry looked up at the Slytherin table anyway, to appease Ron.
"Yeah, I wonder what's up with that." Harry looked at Malfoy and saw that his face was calculating and curious- far from the malevolence that usually emanated from it. When Harry caught his eye, Draco looked away, and Harry could have sworn he saw a blush warming his pale cheeks.
"He doesn't look mad," Hermione said after a minute. "I wonder if he's decided to drop the feud between you two. Took him long enough." Harry had been acting cordially toward his ex-enemy, even finding himself smiling at some of the jokes Malfoy spouted out. It was about time that Draco took notice of Harry's effort and stopped hexing him around every corner, the git.
"What, Malfoy? No way." Ron said, eyebrows raised. Harry nodded, but silently agreed with Hermione. Maybe Malfoy had decided to play nice.
Harry made his excuses to deaf ears as he got up from the table. Ron and Hermione continued their impromptu snogging after a mumbled acknowledgement. He walked out of the great hall, planning on heading up to the common room to finish his potions essay that was due Monday, but was stopped just outside the doors by Malfoy.
"Hey Potter, where're you going?"
"Why do you want to know?" Harry was tired. Sleep last night was interrupted with dreams of screams and dark masks and reptilian eyes and loneliness, and he wasn't up to a confrontation.
"Curiosity?"
Harry sighed. "Common room."
"Where's the mudbl… Granger and the Weasley?"
"Breakfast. Please move." Harry tried to shove by Malfoy, but the blonde moved to block his way.
"What do you want, Malfoy." Harry rubbed his tired eyes.
"Come practice quiddich with me." Draco's look of surprise matched Harry's.
"What?"
"You. Me. A snitch. On the pitch. Yeah?"
"Er, I guess…"
"Meet me there after lunch."
Harry couldn't find it in himself to pick his jaw up off the floor. As he watched Draco swirl away down the hallway, he thought of Hermione's comment about Malfoy. Maybe he was ready to move on. It looks like he even was trying to be acquaintances- even friends. Harry walked to the common room in stunned disbelief, and almost walked into the fat lady when he forgot to mumble the password.
oOoOoOoOo
What. The bloody hell. Was that. Draco was internally freaking out as he walked down the hallway away from that… boy. The boy that made Draco lose all his mental faculties, who destroyed his verbal filter, who made Draco address the mudblood like a person. Why Draco had even stopped Potter in the first place was beyond him. Yes, he'd felt bad for him last night in the owlrey, but Harry looked fine today. What's with the invitation to the pitch?
No, Draco couldn't lie. There was dullness in Harry's eyes where there used to be a spark, and his shoulders hunched as if he was defeated. Draco had always watched Harry, the whole know thy foe deal. But lately Harry had been breaking out of the patterns Draco noticed before the war. Draco could not say that Harry looked fine.
But that was no excuse to go and try to be best friends with his platonic enemy! Draco had no idea what to say once he had Harry stopped in the hall, so asked about his friends. They weren't with him- another sign that Potter was not all right. The quiddich idea had popped into his head out of nowhere- it was the only thing they had in common, and Draco had used that to his advantage. Or mortification; there was no way Harry was going to show! What had he been thinking? He was a Malfoy, dignified and haughty at all times, but apparently Draco was now prostrating himself in front of enemies and losing his aloof fallback persona. Draco groaned into the empty hallway, his voice echoing strangely, and marched down to the Slytherin rooms. Now all he had to do was wait.
oOoOoOoOo
Harry approached the field slowly, looking at it askance. How should he handle this situation? He walked in through the showers and onto the grass, searching the open air. Coming here felt like coming home- there were few places that Harry felt more comfortable. Harry took heart, and stepped onto his broom. Draco wasn't here, but Harry wasn't surprised. He could practice anyway. The snitch Dumbledore gave him before the war ended flitted out of his pocket and flew off, and Harry gave it a head start before flying high to scan for it.
Harry had noticed that his snitch was a playful little thing, and he chuckled as it spiraled away. A movement drew his eye to the locker room doors, and he almost fell off his broom as Malfoy himself came walking onto the pitch. His facial expression was almost bitter until the blonde looked up and saw Harry. He smirked, and took off.
"Couldn't wait for me there, Potter?" Harry was distracted by the normally slicked back hair swirling free around Draco's face, but said,
"Suppose not. The snitch's already out."
"Loser buys butterbeer in Hogsmeade this weekend," Draco yelled, and went shooting off into the sky. Was that another invitation to hang out together? Harry wondered, but the thought vanished as Draco laughed triumphantly and went streaking toward the ground.
They flew for hours, laughing at the exhilaration and impossibility of the whole situation, and promised the other a few rounds each at the Three Broomsticks.
oOoOoOoOo
"Where'd you go, Harry?" Hermione asked as he walked through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.
"Hey, Harry. Wanna play exploding snaps with me and Neville?" Ron called from across the room. "Oh bloody—" Ron's swear was cut off by an enormous bang as their house of cards blew up.
"Aww, not again!" Neville said, smiling gleefully from the floor a few feet away.
"Not now, Ron. Maybe tomorrow." Harry said as he drug Neville up off his back. "I'm knackered."
"See you in the morning then," Hermione said.
"'Night guys."
Harry walked up the stairs to his room with a spritely gait. It was Thursday- only two days until the visit to Hogsmeade, and two days until he and Draco would meet for butterbeer. Harry decided not to think about the fact that it was Draco making his nerves and excitement come out to play- the last time that happened was when he was meeting Cho Chang, and Harry and Draco were not meeting for a date. Though the thought didn't make Harry retch like it would have a year ago… Harry flung himself onto his four poster and fell asleep with a smile, for the first time without tears on his cheeks.
oOoOoOoOo
'Salazar, what a genius I can be!' Thought Draco as he walked down the stairs to the dungeons with his broom slung casually over his shoulder. 'Now he has to meet me again. Hopefully it won't be awkward or anything. I've got to think of things to say, if the conversation stops. Oh man! Harry likes butterbeer, doesn't he? Oh don't be absurd, Draco. You know he does. But what if he wants to bring Granger and Weasley along? I need… want them to like me as well. Huh. How do you get people to like you? I've never wanted to try before. What if he has a girlfriend?' Draco stopped short in the hallway. 'Why would it matter? It's not like I want that position. Of significant other. To the Boy Who Lived. Right. Let her come… But I'm certainly not holding her chair or anything. Oh, should I hold Potter's chair? I did tell him to meet me.'
"Gah!" Draco said aloud, and someone sniggered behind him, startling Draco from his thoughts.
"Planning on going to the common room, Malfoy, or were you taking a walk to clear your obviously cluttered skull?" Blaise stared at him from down the stone hall. He was standing in front of the picture that opened into the common room- Malfoy had walked about fifty feet past it.
"Stuff it." Draco shuffled back down the flagstones and shoved by Blaise into the common room. He would need to plan his obsessing time wisely, if this zoning out business was going to become a habit.
oOoOoOoOo
The castle seemed more abuzz with life than usual; even the gargoyles were peeking into the Gryffindor common room to see what was up. A cheerful 'Hogsmeade!' shouted into their stony faces was usually the only answer they got. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and most of the Gryffindors were in the common room waiting until the set departure time, talking over each other and gesturing emphatically and in an occasionally dangerous manner to those in their general vicinity.
"…and Honeydukes, and Zonko's, and-" Ron counted off on his fingers blithely, orating to whoever happened to be within hearing distance.
"We have to say hi to that Ollivander bloke, I heard he just got released from the hospital-" said Hermione.
"And Fortescues, and-"
"Hogsmeade!" Neville shouted cheerfully at a gargoyle, who nodded and hunkered back out the window with a slight grinding noise.
"Oh, can't forget the Three Broomsticks, and-" Harry tuned them out as much as was possible at the mention of the Three Broomsticks. He and Draco hadn't arranged a time to meet for butterbeer. Were they supposed to run into each other there on a crazy random happenstance? Did Harry miss some important part of the meeting-up code? He'd never had this problem with Ron or Hermione. Then again, he'd been friends with them for a long time now. He hadn't had to make a new friend in ages, and he was just now realizing he may in fact be absolute pants at it.
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it, then looked down at himself sharply. Was he supposed to look nice for this non-date-thing? He was wearing what he usually wore; dark jeans and a soft tee shirt. Plain muggle clothes. Draco was always wearing his high class, certainly expensive things… Harry shrunk the rather large tee shirt until it fit his slim frame, raked his fingers through his hair a few more times for good measure, and called it presentable.
He looked up from his final inspection to see Hermione's eyes on him with her head slightly tilted. Oh no. Oh no. She would probably think Harry was meeting meeting someone, like a date. She would see Malfoy and assume things…
"It's not… I just didn't like all the extra." Harry said, tugging at the hem of his newly fitted shirt to explain. Hermione nodded, satisfied, and turned back to Ron.
"Hogsmeade!" Someone shouted cheerfully as McGonagall stepped through the portrait.
"Time to go, students! You know the drill!" She ducked quickly back out of the portrait as the noise in the common room exploded and the mob bore down on the door.
A few minutes later, a gargoyle peeked back into the common room window.
"Yeesh, thank Merlin those noisy buggers are gone! We can finally bird-watch in peace!"
oOoOoOoOo
Harry shouldn't have worried; Draco sought him out on the way to Hogsmeade to set a time to meet.
"Did you think you could weasel out of buying me a drink?"
"I was just making sure you were still planning on buying me mine."
"A Malfoy always keeps his word. Two o'clock, then?"
"Yeah, all right."
"Be sure to come on time, Malfoys also hate to be kept waiting."
"I'll come on time, all right." Harry muttered as Draco walked away. What he said hit him as Draco shot a loaded look back over his shoulder before returning to the Slytherin pack. Harry cursed every excess blood cell in his cheeks as a blush spread across his skin and wondered when he had become proficient in creating innuendos on the fly like that. If he wasn't so mortified he would be congratulating himself.
oOoOoOoOo
Two o'clock seemed forever in coming to Draco. By one thirty he'd already browsed the places on his must-visit list and had moved half way through his visit-if-time-permits list. Crabbe and Goyle had wandered off somewhere with Blaise and the lot were most likely entranced with something shiny in Zonko's. And so Draco found himself in front of the Three Broomsticks, alone, at one forty five, and decided that looking a little desperate was well worth having somewhere to sit down. He snagged a small table near the back and settled in, drawing patterns in shimmery light with his wand idly on the tabletop.
He looked up after a bit when the door banged opened, smirking as Harry whipped his head around, spotted Draco, and bumbled his way through the maze of diners towards him. He slid sideways into his chair, skidding across the floor a bit. When his momentum stopped he slammed an elbow down on the table and cast a tempus charm- it was two o'clock exactly.
"YES!" Harry said emphatically, and did a little dance in his chair that Draco watched with interest. Harry looked up with a grin on his face a second later, settling down, and said,
"Told ya I'd be here at two."
"Barely. It shouldn't even count. You'll have to do better next time, Potter." Harry's grin grew and he looked at Draco a bit searchingly, but he motioned to Rosmerta and let it drop a moment later. Draco just barely held in a gusty sigh. 'What's all this about next time?' he thought to himself, and accepted the butterbeer Rosmerta set down in front of him.
oOoOo
As it turns out, cashing in all of each other's promised rounds of butterbeer at the same time was only a good idea in theory. With each new glass, the topics of conversation got a little more personal and the space between their chairs seemed to decrease little by little. Draco spilled his best-kept secret. Harry said that he knew Draco was bisexual all along. Harry said that sometimes he feels like his only friend is Hedwig. Draco demanded the chance to be Harry's friend to prove that he was better than a feathery bird. Draco admitted that his mother wasn't coping very well since the fall of Voldemort, with Lucius in jail and the Malfoy name under such scrutiny. Harry gave Draco a comforting if not completely awkward hug.
"Draco, I think we should be friends."
"We went playing… no, we played quidditch together. We're drinking in the Three Broomsticks together. I thought that meant we already were friends."
"Well, yeah. I just thought I'd clarify. In case you didn't take the hint."
"Right, because I'm the dense one around here." Harry had leaned closer and almost toppled out of his chair; his hands hit Draco's thighs first, upon which he supported himself.
"Why do you always wear such fancy clothes?" Harry asked, his face close to Draco's. "You make everybody else around you look positively shabby."
"Was that a compliment I heard?"
"Yeah. We're friends. It's how these things work, yeah?" Harry reasoned as he pulled back into his own chair, a thoughtful finger to his lips.
"Right. Well, because I like making everyone around me look shabby, is why."
"Oh. Well I feel shabby right now. Quit it."
"You don't look shabby to me. I quite like how that shirt fits you."
Perhaps there was more alcohol in those innocent looking drinks after all.
oOoOoOoOo
Harry's life was looking up, it really was. He and Draco were on a first name basis, and Hermione and Ron (with persuasion) had accepted the fact that Harry and the Slytherin were now friends and weren't going to break out in a cacophony of curses each time they clapped eyes on each other. Hermione and Ron were still going strong, in every sense of the word. Harry hadn't had a detention in weeks.
But sometimes that old melancholy would sneak up on him, and there wasn't a thing in the world that could make Harry feel like it wasn't somehow his fault that so many people died for his cause. His rational mind knew that there was no way he alone could have prevented the deaths, but his heart had yet to accept that. And until it did, Harry would have his late night visits to the owlrey and to Hedwig, and wake up with a scratchy throat and tired eyes.
oOoOo
He was sitting in the window with Hedwig perched on his knee and the tears rolling down his face when Draco decided to show himself. He was having a rather rough night as well; his mother had sent him a letter, which was good, but all she talked about was her plants in the greenhouse, which wasn't promising. He was more comfortable with the softer Draco he'd become, and no longer wished for the security and distance his cold mask had afforded him, but his mother has always had a way of cutting him through all of his defenses and leaving him more exposed than he was comfortable with.
Draco walked up to Harry's silhouette in the window, making sure Harry noticed him before pressing lightly on his shoulders. Harry, tears still streaking silver down his face in the moonlight, leaned forward, and Draco slipped one leg around his body so Harry sat cradled between Draco's thighs with his back leaning against Draco's chest. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him closer, and Hedwig let out a muted coo before settling down onto Harry's lap once again.
Draco ran his thumb back and forth over a bit of Harry's tense stomach, and Harry relaxed gradually into him, allowing his body weight to rest on Draco and his head to lean against Draco's collarbone and neck. Draco couldn't even bring himself to care that Harry's saltwater tears were probably staining his sleep shirt. Harry was hurting, and Draco wanted to help. He pulled Harry closer and lifted one hand to brush rhythmically through his hair to help calm his wracking, silent sobs, and tried to hide his own tears of sympathy when Harry turned to curl closer into his chest.
Author's Note: This'll probably have one more chapter… and I'm open to suggestions Tell me what you think, yeah?