The Lighthouse Keeper

by Galadriell

1870's. A lighthouse keeper is content with the solitary life he leads until a shipwreck washes ashore a remarkable young man. As the keeper cares for the man, his own will to start living again rejuvenates. AU, Non-Magic, Harry/Draco

2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. This story is merely my way of saluting her. I do not own any of these characters; I just manipulate their thoughts.

Summary: Harlequin, meet Harry. Set in the late 1870's, this is a story about a lighthouse keeper who is content with the solitary life he leads until a shipwreck washes ashore a remarkable young man. As the keeper cares for the young man, his will to start living again rejuvenates, sprouting from admiration to adoration to love.

Alternate Universe. Non-Magic. Slash. Harry/Draco.

A/N: Timeline's messed up. Don't mind it. I'm a few decades off here and there. Enjoy!

---

Harry plopped on his sofa, stretching and yawning as he felt the sleep pulling him in. He was asleep in a matter of seconds, his legs draped over the end of the couch and his arms behind his head. He wasn't in that position for long though. He was woken up by insistent coughs. He groaned lowly, rolling over and covering his ears. The coughs didn't stop. He sighed and got up blearily. He filled a cup with water and stumbled up the stairs. He knocked twice before opening the door.

Draco was under the covers, shivering slightly. His eyes were shut and the coughs were threatening to rattle out of him again. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and gently woke Draco up. Draco blinked and frowned.

"It's me," Harry said.

Draco turned his head at Harry.

"I brought some water," Harry continued.

Draco nodded, sitting up against the headboard. The cough burst out and it sounded painful. Harry handed the water to Draco, who finished it in three swallows. Just the action of drinking seemed to have taken its toll on Draco, who slumped against the bed, breathing heavily. Harry saw the sweat slicking Draco's forehead. The fever wasn't breaking.

"Don't lie down. Just prop up like that. You won't have to cough as much," Harry said, plumping the pillow beside Draco and pushing it against the headboard. Draco nodded again, leaning on the pillow and taking deep breaths. Harry went downstairs and soaked a rag in cold water. He brought it up, placing it on Draco's bandaged forehead. He inspected Draco's wrist. The swelling was going down but the bruises looked agonizingly purple. Another cough sounded, softer this time. Draco's face was drawn into a slight grimace. Harry watched Draco for a beat longer, realizing that he would need to keep an eye on the ailing man. He dragged himself off of the bed tiredly and walked into his library. He ran his eyes down the disorderly shelves. He stopped at Mansfield Park and smiled. He unshelved it and went into his bedroom, sitting cross-legged on his mattress beside Draco and cracking the book open. Admittedly, he had only read the book once. Harry wanted to see what all the fuss was about after Draco had heatedly defended his taste in books.

Once in a while, another coughing bout would wrack through Draco's shivering frame and Harry would absently dip the rag in the cold water and place it back on Draco's forehead again. Other times, Draco would mumble incoherently in his sleep and Harry would gently pull him out of his delirious nightmares. Harry's eyes were closing on their own accord. He would shake himself awake, rereading the same page of Austen for the tenth time. As the morning wore on to just before noon, Harry was knocked out. He curled on the bed, snoring softly. His book lay unheeded in his hand. Even though he was jerked awake whenever Draco whimpered, he would fall right back to sleep after Draco calmed down. After a final struggle out of his nightmare, Draco finally fell asleep fitfully.

Harry cracked his eyes open and saw the orange tinged sky from his window. He wasn't feeling rested in the least and it was already time to wake up. At least he had gotten a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. He sighed and shifted around, trying to shield his eyes from the sun. When he buried his head in Draco's shoulder, he realized that something was amiss. He opened his eyes wider and found himself staring at Draco's neck. He stiffened impulsively and became aware of Draco's arms around him, cradling him. Harry's own hands were tucked against Draco's chest.

"Um…" Harry said for the lack of a better opening.

"You talk a lot in your sleep," Draco mumbled. Harry frowned as he tried to figure out how he had ended up in that situation. Draco snorted to himself. "In fact, you yell a lot in your sleep," he clarified.

"Oh…"

"Do you remember?" Draco asked.

"No."

"Hmm…" Draco said. He loosened his hold on Harry. Harry rolled off as soon as Draco's arms were out of the way. Draco was on his side, having fallen asleep again. His arms still lay where Harry had been and he had a pensive look on his face as he slept. Harry kept frowning at Draco, unsure of what had just happened. Unsure of why he wanted to be back in Draco's arms. He scrambled off of bed, nearly tumbling over the edge as his feet tangled with the messy covers. He swayed slightly as the blood rushed to his head. He righted himself on the bedpost. Draco's coughs were almost non-existent now. Harry knew that Draco could sleep through the night with the slight fever he still had. He yanked his eyes away from Draco, collecting himself.

Harry didn't have time to ponder because he needed to wash up and climb to the lantern room in an hour. Once he had lit the lamp and topped up the kerosene, he sat down on the chair sleepily. To think this way about a man was an abomination. So Harry tried not to. He busied himself with straightening out the service room. He kept his mind on work, checking up on the fire more often than he needed to. The fog wasn't as thick this night. Thankfully the weather was getting slightly warmer. Harry hoped that it wouldn't bring more rain. He sat at his desk, writing the log from the night before. As he did so, his mind kept moving to last night's conversations he had had with Draco. It sounded exciting, to be traveling with not a care in the world. All the things Draco had talked about – the people, food, places, and traditions – sounded remarkable to Harry. He had never been out of the Western civilization before. He didn't know if he could handle it the way Draco did, with excitement and a sense of adventure. Harry was done taking chances with his life. Monotonous work as a lighthouse keeper kept his spirits high enough.

Halfway through his shift, Harry started to worry about how Draco would be doing. He realized that leaving a sick man to fend for himself in a strange house was probably not the best course of action to take. So he made his way down the winding stairs after he had trimmed the wick. He knocked on the door to his bedroom softly. He didn't hear an answer. He opened the door and peered inside. Draco was still fast asleep, sprawled haphazardly on the bed with half of his body hanging off the side. Harry smiled despite himself, walking down to his kitchen and preparing a quick snack consisting of dates and biscuits. He placed it on the bedside table beside the glass of water. He woke Draco up. Draco opened his eyes blearily.

"Sorry, just wanted to tell you that there's some food for you on the table. And water too, if you need it," Harry whispered. Draco glanced at the plate and nodded, falling back to sleep. Harry frowned. He shook Draco awake again. Draco grumbled, wiping the sweat off of his neck as he turned away from Harry. Harry turned Draco back around and hissed, "Wake up."

"No," Draco moaned.

"Did you just see?"

Draco mumbled something Harry didn't catch. Harry squeezed Draco's shoulder urgently. Draco sighed in frustration, opening his eyes again. "What?" he asked hoarsely.

"Can you see?"

Draco blinked at the ceiling.

"You can, can't you?"

Draco frowned, rubbing his eyes. "Um… I –" he started saying. He stopped midsentence, turning to Harry. "No…" he said in confusion. "I – I saw something, but now – it's just – I can't."

"What did you see?"

"The roof."

"And the biscuits?"

Draco blinked in puzzlement. "Y – yes, that too…"

Harry felt a slow smile grow on his face. "You saw it? That's wonderful!"

"No, I can't see it anymore," Draco repeated.

"I know, but you did see it! Which means your eyes are fine!"

"R – right…"

"Which means it's not permanent. Maybe you just need more sleep," Harry said thoughtfully.

Draco groaned, sitting up painfully. "I don't think I can anymore," he said, yawning and running his fingers through his matted hair. His face turned into a look of disgust. "Ugh, I must look absolutely revolting," he muttered.

"You can wash up, then. I'll get you a set of clothes to wear," Harry said, walking to his wardrobe. He imagined that all his clothes would not hang right on Draco. Draco had a taller, leaner stature than Harry. "They won't fit you that well, but it's something."

Draco stretched on the bed, feeling his way off of it. Harry helped Draco down the stairs to the bathroom. "There's water in the tub. Sorry it's cold. You can – manage?" Harry asked, blushing.

Draco rolled his eyes, feeling his way towards the tub. "Yes, I can manage."

"O – okay. I – I'll make some food for you," Harry stammered. "The clothes are by the door." He pulled the door closed.

Harry went through the motions of making dinner. But his thoughts were on Draco's odd predicament. He hoped that Draco's eyesight returned over time. At least Draco's head wasn't hurting any longer. That was a good thing. He was plating the dinner when he heard the door to the bathroom open. Harry made his way to the bathroom. He stumbled to a halt and his eyebrows shot up. Draco was leaning against the door, his eyes shut as he felt the stitches on his head. His shirt hung open, black bruises on his ribs. Harry's heart stalled as he ran his eyes down Draco's pained face. He was right in thinking that Draco's hair was his most precious asset. The blond hair hung in strands, framing Draco's pale face and sticking up in odd places. Rivulets of water dripped down his torso. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and took calming breaths. He shot them open when he heard a small gasp from Draco. He was supporting himself against the door and his face was scrunched. The fingers that were on his stitches were now on his eyes. Harry moved to help, but stopped when Draco seemingly shook the pain off. Draco straightened up with some effort, groaning tiredly. Harry watched Draco gently touch his aching ribs and wince. Draco tried to button his shirt with one hand. After a minute of fumbling he gave up in frustration. He sighed loudly, running his fingers over his hair, trying to give it some order.

Harry blushed when he realized that he was spying on Draco. He walked backwards out of the room as quietly as he could. He took a moment to calm his senses before staggering back to his kitchen. He splashed cold water on his face. "Stop it," he muttered to himself, slapping the counter with his hand and recovering.

By the time Harry finished putting dinner on the dining table, Draco had stumbled in. "Um… I can't do this up," Draco muttered embarrassedly.

Harry looked up to find Draco standing uncomfortably in the doorway. He was gesturing at his undone shirt. "I'll help you with that," Harry said, putting down the cutlery and walking to Draco. Draco dropped his hand from the shirt. Harry started at the bottommost button. "You're looking better," he said, more to distract himself than to make conversation.

"I feel better," Draco said, shrugging.

Harry absently wondered what Draco's skin would feel like. Then he bit his tongue for wondering what Draco's skin felt like. He was halfway up the shirt when his fingers brushed against Draco's chest. Draco didn't notice. It was all Harry noticed. His insides twitched as he felt the soft, cold skin. Before Harry could do anything devastating, he quickly buttoned the rest of Draco's buttons and stepped away quickly.

"Thank you," Draco said. Harry didn't trust his tongue, so he mumbled something that Draco took as an affirmation. "That smells good," he said, reaching out to Harry expectantly. Harry grabbed Draco's arm, pulling him to the table quickly.

That night they dined in silence since both men were lost in their thoughts. They were almost done eating when Draco finally broke out of his thoughts. "Do you have nightmares often?" he asked.

Harry almost chocked on his sandwich at the question. He took a quick gulp of his water. He cleared his throat, "Um, nightmares?"

"Before. Scared me half to death when you started yelling."

"I – er… sorry."

Draco smiled. "Nothing to it. I was just wondering if you had them often."

"I guess. I wouldn't know. I don't remember my dreams," Harry mumbled.

"That's a good thing, I suppose. It sounded awful."

Harry didn't respond. He quickly finished his dinner. "I have to go now," he said, finishing his water and getting up quickly.

"That's fine. I can finish up," Draco said helpfully.

"I'll be back in an hour," Harry said, getting out of the dining room as fast as he could.

Harry knew it was just infatuation. It could be nothing else. Draco was the first person Harry had gotten close with for over ten years. He seemed like a godsend to Harry. That thought was bothering him. He hadn't felt like he was missing the company of anyone over the past years, and yet after spending a day with this man, Harry was starting to wonder if he should be missing it. The remarkable strength Draco put up was filling Harry with admiration. Draco hadn't broken down about his dilemma as of yet and Harry knew Draco wouldn't if he could help it. He guessed that Draco wasn't one to show weakness. The anecdotes he relayed to Harry were amazing to say the least. Draco was so aware of the world. Perhaps that was why he wasn't reacting to his blindness the way Harry would. Draco had seen so much already, he knew that he was well off – lucky. He could very well have died. Yet, he was alive, albeit blind. And that too, not permanent from the looks of it. Harry chided himself for thinking about Draco again – who happened to be married. Harry told himself that once Draco was off his island, he would be able to return to his normal state of mind. Harry also knew that he was fooling himself into thinking that. Once Draco was gone, he would be all Harry was going to think about. After a seed of adventure was planted in a mind, it was difficult to root it out. Especially in Harry's imaginative mind.

Through the course of the night, Draco noticed Harry's increasing silence and offhand conversation. Harry's work had ended without any other distractions and two hours later found the men in Harry's room. Draco was sitting against the headboard and Harry was by the foot of the bed. Draco was absently learning to use the ocarina while Harry was fiddling with the covers. Finally, Draco got tired of waiting for Harry to talk and put the instrument down, staring at Harry's general direction.

"How did you find this island?" Draco asked.

Harry jumped at the sudden interruption. He looked up at Draco and stammered, "I h – heard about them building this tower – the lighthouse – from a friend. I – I thought they might need some help."

"So you just stumbled upon it?"

"Er… I suppose I was looking for a place like this. But yes, I stumbled upon it."

"And you helped build this place."

"Yes. It took a very long time to build, but it's sturdy and works well for me."

"Best day of your life…" Draco said thoughtfully. "This island is very important to you."

Harry nodded at that statement. "It's my home."

"You know, I've never really had a home. Father and Mother were almost never around in the manor. I moved around too, when I was a child. It was always just a house," Draco confided.

"I found a home eight years ago. It's not too late," Harry said reassuringly.

"No, of course not. I wonder if I could ever call this a home."

Harry's fingers stilled over the covers. Draco didn't have to leave; he could stay. Harry immediately dismissed the hopeful thought out of his mind. He didn't know what had prompted it and he knew he shouldn't even think it. "Hmm…" was all he said to Draco's statement.

Draco sighed in frustration, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I've told you so much about me and I don't know anything about you," he said, looking miffed.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "My stories are hardly interesting compared to yours."

"Of course they are. For different reasons. I've seen the world, you've seen life. It wasn't all bad, was it?"

"No, no. My schooldays were the best years of my life besides these. I made lifelong friends. It's just – there's always been this shadow hanging over my life. I never really got to live because I was –" Harry grappled for the right words. "I guess I never really lived for myself… I don't know if that makes any sense," he said haltingly.

"No, it doesn't," Draco said, his brows pulled together as he tried to piece out what Harry had divulged.

"The man who – killed my parents… He – he was hell bent on trying to kill me too," Harry muttered.

Harry registered the shock on Draco's face. "Wh – why?" Draco asked in horror. "I – I mean, you – you were just a child!"

Harry shrugged. "Revenge. The day he killed my parents, he got caught. He wasn't able to finish what he had started. And he tried to finish it for seven years of my life." Draco was silent. Harry wondered if he should continue. He knew he would scare Draco away. Perhaps that was the best course of action at this point. "Seven years of my life… He is a part of who I am. He did everything in his power to make my life hell. So many – my friends and – he killed so many of them. Everyday, I just think of – I mean, what did he gain from killing them? When I was seventeen he – he tried to kill me. He died that day. He won't be killing anyone anymore…" Harry trailed off, tears dripping on the bed sheets. He quickly wiped them away, glad that Draco wasn't able to see them.

"But you didn't kill him…" Draco said in a hushed but firm tone.

"I – I di– I was never tried."

"But you didn't kill him…"

Harry glanced up at Draco in confusion. "I – I guess not. He died in the struggle. H – his gun went off on him… instead of me."

"Right."

"Right," Harry echoed.

"Because you aren't a killer."

Harry frowned at Draco's determined statement. "I know," he said slowly.

"And it's not your fault."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, perplexed at Draco's words.

"Your dream…" Draco shifted on the bed, crawling towards Harry blindly. "Your nightmare. What you were shouting was – well, besides being terrifying, it was – you were –" Draco felt around for Harry and touched his knee. "You were asking them to spare your friends. To take you instead. I didn't know – I'm so sorry."

"I did?" Harry asked hoarsely.

"But you have to know that it's not your fault," Draco said insistently, feeling his way up to Harry's shoulder. He squeezed it gently. "It sounded like you didn't know that…"

Harry stared at Draco, tears spilling over. "I – how is it not – if they didn't know me, they'd be alive, wouldn't they?"

"I don't think they would regret it," Draco said.

Harry quickly wiped away the rest of his tears and tried to shake the morbid thoughts out of his head. "It doesn't matter. It's done and – and I've moved on," Harry said in a shaky voice.

"You haven't."

"Please, just – we'll talk about something else," Harry muttered, dropping his eyes from Draco's concerned face.

"No, we'll talk about this. Because you are living on this island, alone. You have been here for the best parts of your life. And it's because of this man. You haven't moved on," Draco explained.

"I can't – I can't do this," Harry said, moving to get up.

Draco's fingers tightened around Harry. "Why are you hiding?" he asked.

"I'm not," Harry muttered, trying to quell the urge to run.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Look, this has nothing to do with – I'm not –" Harry sighed in exasperation, willing his tears to stop.

"You're letting this killer run your life! Even after he's dead!"

"I don't want anyone else to get hurt, alright?" Harry said forcefully, tugging away from Draco's grip. He quickly got off of his bed and exited the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The tears burst out of him again and his body wracked with emotion. He blearily made his way to his bathroom, trying to stop his overworked mind. He was fatigued and he was letting his thoughts get the better of him. He washed his face in cold water, trying not to think of what Draco had said. He needed his sleep and he was going to get it.

He was on his couch for another hour before he fell asleep. His emotions had turned from helplessness, to sorrow, to hate, to anger, and back to helplessness. Sleep was a welcome reprieve for Harry.

Draco had given up on patience after a while. He knew Harry was probably asleep and he knew he should be sleeping too. He needed to be on Harry's schedule. Besides, he didn't even know day from night. He tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. He kept hearing Harry's tearful confession in his head. Guilt ate at him. He slid out of bed and felt his way to the door. The stairs weren't much of a hassle and he climbed down slowly, feeling each step with his foot. He shuffled into the drawing room. His shins were already sore from bumping into everything in his path. He growled in frustration. For all he knew, he could be walking around in circles. His knees bumped against the armchair. He felt his way towards the couch. His hands ran over the back of the sofa and he heard Harry's soft breathing. Draco knelt down beside Harry. He found Harry's hair and he moved his fingers to rest on Harry's shoulder. He contemplated on whether to wake Harry up or not.

"Hmm?" Harry muttered sleepily.

"It – it's me," Draco whispered.

"Wh – what? Are you alright?" Harry asked as he tried to blink away his sleep.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course. I just came to see if you were," he said.

Harry's eyes fell shut at Draco's statement. "Yes," he murmured. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Do you want something?" Harry asked, cracking his eyes open sluggishly.

"No," Draco said softly, letting go of Harry and getting up.

"Where are you going?"

"Upstairs."

Harry groaned. "Like hell you are," he muttered, swinging his legs off of the couch and rubbing his heavy eyes. "I'll take you. I can't believe you made your way down here," he said, getting up.

"I can find my way up. You sleep," Draco said.

"What's a few more minutes, right?" Harry smiled. He grabbed Draco's hand, putting it on his shoulder.

"You are much too accommodating," Draco mumbled.

"And you are my guest," Harry mumbled back, squinting against the sun. Draco made it to the bedroom without further bruises. Harry led him to the bed, firmly pushing him down. "Sleep," Harry said.

"I said I can't."

"What should we do then?"

Draco blinked in disbelief. "We shouldn't do anything. You should be sleeping, not waiting on me hand and foot."

Harry laughed. "I'm not waiting on you hand and foot," he said.

"Fine, then you sleep and I'll figure out something to do," Draco said, pulling Harry down onto the bed.

Harry sighed, trying to wring his hands out of Draco's. "I'll go downstairs," he said.

"No, sleep here," Draco said firmly.

"I can't sleep when you are staring at me," Harry muttered.

"I can't stare," Draco deadpanned. He pushed Harry into the pillows, feeling for the rumpled covers and pulling it over him. "There. You haven't gotten proper sleep since I came," he said.

Harry was too tired to argue. So all he did was sigh and grumble sleepily before growing silent. Draco sat against the headboard, listening to Harry's soft breathing. He was glad that Harry wasn't angry at him. He was also confused that Harry wasn't angry at him. He'd be angry with him. Revealing so much to a stranger was not something Draco could do. He knew he lacked tact. It was his upbringing. His parents often spoke their minds in harsh terms. Draco was bound to pick up on it. He had made Harry burst into tears and yet, here he was. Perhaps Harry had had to learn to forgive quickly. How else could he have remained sane through his miserable childhood? Harry's breathing lulled Draco into a sleepy stupor. He slid his body under the covers and lay on his side. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's alright," Harry murmured in his sleep.

Draco smiled. Yes, Harry had forgiven him. He fell asleep.

-x-

Harry woke up slowly. He let the sleep move out of him. He felt rested and oddly at peace. He breathed in deeply and opened his eyes.

"Hell," he exhaled. He was staring at Draco's neck again and he felt arms wound around his back. Harry's heart pounded at the proximity. It felt perfect.

"Hmm?" Draco asked as he opened his eyes. Black is all he saw. Disappointment filled him until he realized that Harry's hands were bunching his shirt and that his own hands were wrapped around Harry. He felt Harry's rapid breath against his neck. He frowned in confusion, letting go of Harry. Harry pushed away quickly. "Sorry," Draco mumbled, sitting upright. Of all the things to wish for, he found himself wishing that he could see Harry.

Harry stared at Draco's sleep tousled hair and puzzled frown. His heart fluttered. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to empty his head. "It's fine," Harry said, horrified at how shaky his voice was. "I – I should – I should go," he stammered, throwing back the covers and getting out of bed.

"Right. Can I come?" Draco asked hopefully, yawning his sleep away.

Harry had half a mind to say no. He couldn't work if Draco was in the same room. But what else could Draco do other than keep Harry company? Harry stifled a sigh. "Yes, of course."

Draco smiled. Two hours later, the men were up in the service room by the desk. Awkward pauses punctuated their small talk. Draco noticed Harry's pensive words. He didn't know what to do about them. He didn't bring it up, knowing that Harry had a lot on his mind from that morning.

"Could I go out on the gallery again?" Draco asked.

Harry pursed his lips. "Are you sure?"

"It's just the sea, right?" Draco said, his voice hinting of trepidation.

Harry eyed Draco for a moment longer. "Right. Do you want to go now?"

Draco nodded curtly, getting up from the desk. Harry led him to the door on his right, opening it slowly. He glanced back at Draco's stoic face, wondering what he was thinking. Harry stepped into the gallery and he smelt the overwhelming scent of salt. The wind was light and cold. Harry hoped Draco wouldn't mind the breeze. He guided Draco's hand to the railing. Draco grabbed on tightly, taking gulps of air to calm himself. It wasn't as bad as the first time. Having Harry standing next to him helped. Draco knew he wasn't alone.

"How were you the only one not on the raft?"

Draco frowned out into the ocean at Harry's words. "I couldn't make it in time," he said hesitantly. Harry didn't respond. Draco knew what Harry wanted to know. "I – I had lost something. I needed to find it. I took too long," he said softly.

"Did you find it?"

Draco dropped his head. "No."

"It was important..."

"It seemed important at the time."

"What was it?"

Draco rubbed his eyes tiredly. "It doesn't matter."

"But what was it?" Harry asked again.

"Just – something Mother gave me, that's all."

"An heirloom?"

"I suppose… Just a book."

Harry looked away from Draco. "If it were just a book, you wouldn't be here," he said.

"Is something wrong, Harry?" Draco asked, worried at Harry's morose words. He reached out and connected with Harry's arm. "This isn't about yesterday, is it?" he asked in concern. "I'm so sorry for – pushing you into talking."

Harry gently tugged his arm away from Draco as he tried to stop his emotions from surfacing. "No," he said curtly.

Draco tried not to show his hurt as he felt Harry's arm pull away. He clutched the railing to keep himself from getting disoriented. "Then what is it?" he asked.

"Nothing. I'm fine," Harry said. "I – do you think you are ready for an eight hour trip to the seaport?"

Draco's brows pulled together. "Um… I suppose," he said.

"If the weather permits, we can go tomorrow. I am sure your family is anxious," Harry said.

"Right," Draco said resignedly. His family.

"Do you want to go back inside?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded, lost in thought. Harry wanted him to leave and who was he to argue. He was supposed to leave. He wanted to leave. The island was too monotonous for him. But Harry wasn't. He realized he didn't want to leave Harry alone on the island. His fingers tightened around Harry's shoulder as they walked back to the service room. "You should come with me," Draco said impulsively.

"Wh – what?" Harry exclaimed, staggering to a halt.

"You have been on this island for ten years. You miss your friends. You should come with me."

"No, no. The lighthouse… It's my job."

"You don't have to leave forever. Just for a while. On holiday."

"I can't just go," Harry said, rolling his eyes as he helped Draco into the chair.

"We'll find a replacement at the seaport. People would do anything for money."

"You're going to pay them?" Harry asked sardonically.

"I have money. You need to get off of this island for a while. It will work out."

"Mental," Harry muttered, taking his seat.

"I want my mother to meet you!" Draco said insistently.

"I'm not good with people," Harry grumbled.

"You are good with me."

"You are different."

"I am my mother's son."

"No, I'm not leaving," Harry said firmly. Draco sighed in frustration. Harry conveniently ignored it. "Once you are in town, we can telegraph your family. The Pacific Express will take you to the east. The ship will take you to England. Thank goodness for the train, I suppose."

"Thank goodness," Draco repeated sullenly.

Harry was perplexed at Draco's mood. "Aren't you glad to be going home?" he asked curiously.

"Of course I'm glad. I can't stand it here." He couldn't see Harry flinch. "I just want to make sure you aren't angry at me."

"I'm not."

"You're not very convincing," Draco said.

"I have nothing to be angry about."

"You've been so quiet."

"I've been thinking."

"Fine," Draco said in displeasure. "Be angry."

Harry laughed in disbelief. "Do you want me to be angry at you?"

"No."

"So, stop instigating it."

"Fine."

Harry chuckled helplessly at Draco's irritated expression. They drowned in their thoughts for a while.

"I'll miss you, that's all," Draco said suddenly. Harry's heart melted at the confession. He stared at Draco's embarrassed face in wonderment. Draco continued before he could change his mind. "You – you haven't judged me and it's so easy to talk to you. You are sincerely interested in all I have to say, not like the other people I converse with. You don't pretend. I suppose you don't have a reason to pretend. Hell, even my parents pretend in front of me. We're so alike and yet, so different. I'll miss talking to you."

Harry didn't know what to say. He sat on his chair, frozen as the words sunk in. Draco shifted uncomfortably. Against his better judgment, Harry asked, "Do you really want me to come with you?"

Draco shook his head, fumbling with the papers on the desk. "Do you want to come with me?" he asked in turn. "You do have a choice, Harry. I'm not forcing you into anything. It's your life, after all."

Harry was stumped. A choice… He had never had a choice. "Right, it is my life."

"You can't let others decide how you're going to live it," Draco said. Harry knew what Draco was talking about. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't have to think about it until Draco brought it up. Now that was all he did.

"A holiday?"

"Yes."

"I suppose I could use a holiday," Harry said deliberately.

Draco face lit up into a charming grin. "Yes, you could!"

Harry realized that he was agreeing with Draco just so he could spend more time with the man. Harry also realized how convoluted it was. He tried to reason with himself. Draco was a friend. Nothing more. Harry needed to get off of the island once in a while. This was a perfect opportunity. He did want to see his friends. But most importantly, he wanted to delay saying goodbye to Draco. There was no denying that. He jumped when Draco's hand touched his. He looked up at Draco's triumphant smile.

"Thank you," Draco said.

"I – um… your welcome?"

Draco chuckled. "You won't believe how unburdened I feel. You could stay at the manor. We have enough –"

Harry interrupted Draco's excited rambling. "Oh, I have my own house in London," he said quickly.

"You do?"

"My godfather's house. He left it for me."

"Really?"

Harry grinned. "Despite what you might think, I'm not poor," he said.

"You aren't?"

Harry laughed at Draco's glib comment. "In fact, I'm quite rich," Harry added for Draco's benefit.

"You are?"

"Why do you find all this so hard to believe?" Harry asked in amusement.

"What's your definition of rich, exactly?"

"Er… Rich – beyond belief?"

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Beyond belief?"

"As in I don't have to work a day in my life."

"What?"

"As in I could live three times over with my inheritance."

"No, you can't!"

"How poor did you think I was?" Harry asked, chuckling.

"Very!" Draco answered, his eyes wide.

"My parents weren't penniless, you know."

"No, I didn't."

"Hmm…"

"You're so strange," Draco said.

"I'm glad I amuse you."

"Me too," Draco countered, winking.

Harry's spirits were renewed at the prospect of traveling with Draco – essentially being Draco's eyes. The seas were calm, as though aware of the journey Harry and Draco were to embark on. The winds were favorable and as Harry helped Draco climb onto the sleek boat, he was feeling optimistic about this 'holiday'. He had packed minimal supplies, knowing that he could buy more at the seaport. He liked to travel light. Draco didn't have any provisions of his own. So they set sail as soon as they had finished breakfast. Harry was feeling much too excited to consider sleeping. The sea voyage was smooth and Draco started to feel more at ease after the first couple of hours. He still clutched the sides of the wooden boat with white knuckles, but he was starting to talk to Harry. Harry helped Draco get his mind off of the sea, talking about what he wanted to do once he set foot in Canada. What Draco craved the most was a hot bath. What Harry wanted the most was to get Draco's wrist and head checked by a doctor. The simplicities of life are often exaggerated when faced with adversity. Harry agreed to find Draco a lodge that had a hot bath. Draco greatly appreciated the offer with a grand grin.

Throughout the journey, Draco saw flickers of blue. Sometimes, an image would slowly blur into view. But all Draco saw was the blur. No definite image. He wasn't complaining. He was glad to be able to see anything at all. Harry was glad too because he saw Draco's eyes light up every time he caught a glimpse of something.

"I think I'm starting to appreciate the colors more," Draco mused.

"But your head doesn't hurt anymore, does it?"

"A little. It's fine. Not like before."

"You should get some rest," Harry said.

"I'm not tired," Draco said, yawning.

"Of course not," Harry remarked sarcastically.

"I should keep you company. Not sleep."

"I have been traveling to the port for years. Never had company before," Harry explained.

"I'll sleep when we get there."

Despite the firm objection, Draco was fast asleep within the next hour. Harry draped a blanket over him, knowing that a sunburn was probably not what Draco would appreciate at the moment. The last four hours of the journey was uneventful for Harry as he steered south. Harry was proud and slightly frightened that he had agreed to embark on such a spontaneous journey. Draco's impulsive state of mind was starting to rub off on Harry.

When he saw the fishing village on the horizon, he nudged Draco awake. "We're here," Harry announced.

Draco jerked awake. "I fell asleep? Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked accusingly.

"You needed the sleep, I needed the rest from your questions," Harry said nonchalantly.

Draco huffed. Harry was starting to notice how youthful most of Draco's mannerisms were. Although in years Draco wasn't much younger than Harry, in spirit he was. Harry wondered exactly how naïve Draco was. From all he had heard, Draco had led a sheltered life. Even while traveling, Draco had always experienced the traditions and cultures with an omnipresent view. Everything seemed black and white to Draco. Perhaps the shipwreck was the first real experience Draco had had. And what an experience that had been.

Harry pulled the boat up to the dock. The attendants quickly tethered it to one of the posts. Harry helped Draco out of the boat and onto the wooden dock. The young men eyed Draco curiously. After Harry had unloaded his things, he noticed the awkward stares. "Er – Good afternoon," he said. Now the men turned to stare at Harry with wide eyes. The lighthouse keeper just spoke. They blinked in awe. Harry shuffled on his feet. "R – right. Um – there was a shipwreck three nights ago. The Archangel. Do you know if the survivors are here?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, sir!" one of the boys said eagerly. "With the doctor. I will take you there!"

"Thank you," Harry said, smiling. He gathered the bags and placed Draco's hand on his shoulder. He followed the boy's springy steps. The rest of the men watched on dumbly, unsure of what had just happened.

"Are all of them accounted for?" Harry asked the boy.

"Well," the boy said, eyeing Draco. "Now they are."

"Good."

"Is he blind?" the boy asked, scrutinizing Draco.

Draco scoffed. "I'm blind, not deaf," he said.

The boy colored considerably and started walking faster.

"That was rude," Harry muttered so only Draco could hear.

"He was rude."

Harry rolled his eyes. The fishing village was always bustling with activity. Vendors stood along the coastline, hoping to draw in buyers by yelling over each other and waving their catches in the air. The scent of seafood was strong and Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. He continually tripped over the uneven stones but Harry was patient. They eventually made it to the small hospital without any major spills. The boy ran in after telling Harry and Draco to have a seat in the waiting room. They were the only ones in there. Draco was too wound up to sit down. So Harry watched as Draco blindly paced in front of him. Draco didn't have to pace for long. The elderly doctor strode in with a large grin on his face.

"This is wonderful news indeed!" he boomed with his loud voice. Draco staggered at the unexpected intrusion and Harry steadied him quickly. He smiled at the doctor, shaking his hand. The doctor beamed at Harry and then at Draco. The smile quickly turned into a puzzled frown as he ran his eyes over Draco's injuries. "Let's have a look," he said, motioning for the two men to follow him.

Harry grabbed Draco's elbow, dragging him into the doctor's office. The doctor's puzzled frown turned into a worried scowl. "He's – he's blind?" the doctor asked. "They didn't tell me."

Harry made Draco sit still in the chair the doctor motioned to. "Um – he wasn't blind before… His head…" Harry gestured helplessly at the haphazard stitches on the side of Draco's temple. The doctor brushed away Draco's hair, gently prodding the skin around the wound. "He can see in flashes. He sees light and colors. Today he started seeing shapes."

"I can't focus on anything. Most, I just see black," Draco interjected, irritated that Harry was answering the questions for him.

"His wrist is broken too," Harry said.

"That can be easily set. This, I'm not sure about," the doctor said thoughtfully.

"But it's not permanent. He could see again, couldn't he?" Harry asked.

"Stranger things have happened. I mean, here he is alive and well," the doctor remarked. "Would you like to visit your friends? I've kept them here for the past two days. Bloody pain too," he grumbled.

Draco grinned. "Yes, they are a bloody pain. I would like to see them," he said.

"I haven't told them of your arrival yet. And I'm expecting a madhouse when I do. You won't believe the ruckus those men made. Kept going on and on about search parties and rescue boats," the doctor ranted, leading the men out of the office and into the infirmary. "Had to break apart fights. Fights! In my hospital!" the doctor shook his head in disbelief. "Never seen a rowdier bunch of sailors."

Draco was trying to stifle his laughter as he let Harry lead the way.

"Here we are," the doctor said. "Please, don't break anything," he pleaded. He opened the door. Harry had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing at the loud, angry shouts he heard from inside the room.

"Bloody scum! You aren't doing shit!"

"Sir, I suggest you sit back –"

"Sit back down, my arse! How can I sit back down when I should be out there looking for him?"

"Please, sir!"

"Bloody idiots. How long do you plan on keeping us in this hell hole?"

"Sir, we need you to refrain from –"

"I'll talk as I bloody well please."

Harry had heard enough. He took pity on the poor nurses and their stricken ears. He pulled Draco into the room. The sight in front of him was enough to make him laugh out loud. There were ten beds lined along the walls. The room was filled with rugged, bleary-eyed sailors. Sheets and pillows were strewn across the floor. Some of the men were pacing along their beds. A few were gathered around a map, talking in low voices. Three were arguing heatedly with the two dumbfounded nurses.

"You may not care if he's dead or alive, but we'd bloody well like to see him alive. Damn it, you can't keep us here for much longer!"

Draco sighed. "Shut the fuck up, Blaise," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm alive. Dramatic arse…"

The room froze.

"Language!" Harry chided. He smiled apologetically at the nurses.

The room unfroze.

"Bloody hell." Next thing Harry knew, he was facing a stampede of men. He yelped, wrapping an arm around Draco's waist protectively. Draco and Harry were hit with a torrent of bodies and loud, ecstatic swears. Draco had to hold his broken arm against his chest to keep it from jostling. Sharp thumps landed on his back and crushing hugs threatened to choke him to death. He gripped Harry tight, not wanting to lose him in the mad rush. The doctor was right. The sailors had no self-control.

"I won't be alive for long if you keep this us," Draco gasped, coughing. The men let go instantly, grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry. It's just – we thought – well, it doesn't matter what we thought. You're alive. Bloody lucky son of a bitch!"

Draco rolled his eyes again. He realized that he was still holding onto Harry. He let go and so did Harry. "This is –"

"Are you alright?"

Harry noticed the men eyeing Draco with concern. They had finally noticed. Draco closed his eyes in exasperation. "I'm just peachy. Besides being fucking blind, nothing wrong at all," he said.

"What?"

Draco sighed, turning to Harry. "You explain," he said. "This is Harry. My – savior," Draco said to the crowd, winking cheekily.

"Now look who's being a dramatic arse," Harry mumbled, blushing. "He – his head is pretty banged up. It's not permanent, but he's blind."

"Crummy explanation," Draco muttered.

"Well, what more do you want me to tell them?" Harry asked sullenly.

"Gory details, obviously."

Harry guffawed. "Fine. I found him at sea with the debris. He lost a lot of blood. I sewed him up with ten stitches. His wrist is fractured. And I had to break his ribs to get him to breathe. He can see blurry objects once in a while, but mostly it's just black. So it's probably just temporary blindness," he said. The sailors gaped at him. "Happy?" he asked Draco.

"Damn it, I wish I could see your faces right now…" Draco said wistfully.

"You fucking bastard, if you weren't blind, I'd sock you one in the jaw!"

"That's –" Draco started saying.

"What the hell were you playing at? You could have died!"

"I didn't," Draco mumbled.

"Do you have any idea how terrified your mother is?"

"Look, I –"

"And not to mention how terrified we were! One second you were there and the next you were gone."

"It's not on –"

"Like hell I'm taking you on another ship. Fucking cunt."

Harry made a disparaging sound. "That's enough," he said loudly, glaring at Blaise. Draco was evidently growing more and more uncomfortable. Blaise was not helping. "No use beating a dead donkey…"

Blaise made a noise of frustration. "Don't back him up," he muttered, returning Harry's glare.

"He's been through a lot. Just – don't be so harsh…" Harry said, trailing off.

"And who the fuck are you?" Blaise asked.

That was all Draco needed to recover. "Whoa, Blaise. He saved my life. Use common courtesy."

"This is my common courtesy," Blaise muttered.

"Use my common courtesy, then," Draco said.

"Narcissa is going to murder me, do you know that? Are you happy with yourself?"

"Yes," Draco said, folding his arms on his chest.

"Well, I think it's brilliant that he's alive," another sailor indicated.

"Yes, thank you," Draco said with a smile at the general direction the voice came from. "I think it's brilliant too."

Blaise grumbled some more, eyeing Draco with disdain. Without warning, he pulled Draco into a bone-crushing hug. "Don't you ever scare us like that again," he whispered into Draco's ear.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered back.

Blaise pulled back, eyeing Draco suspiciously. "What?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"Since when?"

Draco threw up his arms in defeat. "Seriously?"

"That knock to the head must have fixed something."

"Bloody idiot," Draco mumbled fiercely.

"Have you at least let Narcissa know that you're alive?"

"Haven't had a chance.'

"Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?"

"Fine, fine," Draco said, reaching out for Harry. Harry took Draco's hand and placed it on his shoulder. "I'll be back. And please don't break anything. Doctor's orders," Draco said with a cheeky smile. Harry fled before the sailors could chuck pillows at them. The thankful nurses gave them directions to the post office. After getting Draco's wrist splinted properly, the two men headed out to telegraph Draco's mother.

"So… Interesting group to travel with," Harry commented.

"Quite the characters."

"Blaise is…"

"My best friend."

"Hmm…"

"He's not usually like that."

"How long have you known him?"

"I've known him since school. But we've only been friends for about ten years. Since after Father left…"

"Since your father left for where?"

Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "Um – left Mother."

"Oh…"

They walked in silence the rest of the way. The post office was crowded, as usual. Being a seaport, sailors used the post office to send letters to their loved ones regarding their safe arrival. Ships that docked often received their parcels from the small post office. The queue to make it to the telegraph interpreter seemed to take hours and Draco was growing weary after the first five minutes. When the two men finally made it to the front of the line, Draco was crabby.

"To?"

"1800 Ring Road, London, England. Narcissa Black."

"Message?"

"I am alive. Stop."

Harry jabbed Draco in the ribs. "No, that is not the message," Harry said, ignoring Draco's snarl. "Um, how about – I am in Canada safely. Stop. I am well. Stop. I will be home in a month. Stop."

"Mine would have saved some money," Draco grumbled.

"Yes, and probably struck your mother dead."

"From?" the interpreter asked impatiently.

"Right, right. Um – Your son. Stop. Draco Lucius Malfoy. Stop. How much is that?" Draco asked.

"A shilling."

"A shilling? Highway robbery!" Draco exclaimed.

"A shilling, sir."

Draco sighed. "Harry?"

"R – right. A shilling? Er – h – here…" Harry stammered, his thoughts racing. When he finally snapped back to his senses, he realized that he was outside the post office and Draco was shaking his shoulder vehemently.

"Harry!"

"Wh – what?"

"Why aren't you moving?"

Harry spun around to face Draco. "Malfoy…"

"Right."

"You are – Lucius Malfoy's… son?"

Draco frowned. "Yes," he said slowly.

Harry let out a strangled moan, staggering back. Draco reached out for Harry's arm, but felt thin air. "What is it?"

Harry now saw the astute resemblance between father and son. The same blond hair and grey eyes. The same aristocratic features. The same blood. "I – I can't," Harry chocked out.

"You can't what?"

"I have – I have to go," Harry said, wrenching his eyes away from Draco's confused expression. He roved his eyes on the crowd, stopping a young girl who was randomly weaving through it. "Here's ten pence. Take him to the doctor," Harry said, pushing the coin into the ecstatic girl's hand.

"Harry, please, what is it?" Draco asked, his eyes wide with terror.

"I –" Harry stopped midsentence, stifling his words in his throat. "Goodbye," he said softly, walking away shakily.

Draco felt the panic growing in him until a small hand grasped his, leading him towards the hospital. And like an apparition of Draco's once fevered mind, Harry was gone when Draco was well again.