A/N: Unbeta'd, apologies for remaining errors.. I've not had enough caffeine today to go back through for a triple check! Thank you once again to everyone who's reading, and has followed and favourited this fic.. it makes me so happy! And my favourite reviewer drarryisgreen, I'm glad to have provided a pick-me-up for you with the last chapter! But yes, on with the fic. Enjoy! And if you do, please take a moment to let me know and hit that nice shiny review button! I do love them. Reviews, caffeine and jellybeans make me a very, very happy bunny! =) Cheers guys!
It was finished. All the building work that required the help of the masses had been completed and everyone would be going home in the morning after tonight's celebratory, barbecue, was it? Draco found the whole concept of cooking an entire meal outside for entertainment purposes very bizarre, especially in December. The finishing internal touches to the castle were to be finalised by the professors over the next few months, ready for the school term to begin as normal the following September.
With the afternoon free of tasks, Draco had found himself sitting by the Great Lake staring up at the castle. It looked pretty much the same, the exception being the new small wing that would be housing any students returning for an eighth year. Draco had received his invitation that morning detailing the requirements for the year. He shivered a little bit as a bitingly cold breeze rushed over the lake and drew his scarf tighter around his neck.
During his six months in the holding cells at the Ministry of Magic, Draco had seldom let himself entertain the idea that he would one day be free, let alone be allowed to return to Hogwarts if they rebuilt it. He'd always known that he would take that chance though, should it be offered. He'd harboured secret plans for his life over the years, especially when Voldemort had taken up residence in the manor. Little fantasies about what he would do if he had that choice and freedom. He would escape into these private dreams on the few occasions Voldemort left the manor and its inhabitants to their own devices.
He scanned the sky above the turrets. Even though it was freezing and under two weeks until Christmas, the sky was perfectly clear and blue, just one lonely little white cloud puffing slowly across the horizon, as if waiting for its moment to strike and cast a pitiful shadow onto the ground below. He frowned. What a weird thought. And then there actually was a shadow looming across his patch of grass.
"Malfoy." The sound of his own name cut across his thoughts and he sighed. He already knew who it was. That voice was unmistakeable; there was only one person it could belong to. The same person he had managed to consistently avoid since their confrontation the week before.
Although he hadn't spoken to the other boy, he had been aware of Potter's eyes on him whenever they were around each other, and done a fair bit of his own secretive observation when the opportunities had arisen. He had noticed that Potter had seemed to keep to himself over the week, and there had been no sign of either Granger or the Weasle. He had looked up to catch him smiling his way a couple of times, like when he had been relaxed and chatting to Pansy and Blaise around the campfire one evening, or when he had spoken back to the taunts thrown his way or deflected spells and hexes. After only a day of standing up for himself, the incidents had decreased, and a few people had actually voluntarily spoken to him about things other than the reconstruction.
"Potter." He said, without looking up. The other boy seemed to take this as encouragement and settled himself on the grass beside him.
"It looks, not quite the same somehow, doesn't it?" Draco made a noncommittal sound in his throat. "Yes, well, anyway. I was er, I got my letter. I was just wondering, if, whether or not, you'd be coming back?" His voice sounded, hopeful even as he stumbled through his words. Draco snorted inelegantly.
"Worried you wouldn't have anyone to insult are you, Potter?" He sneered, standing up gracefully. Potter scrambled up with a hurried movement that almost pitched him head first into the lake. As it was, his glasses fell from his face with a soft splash into the water's edge, the small tide threatening to draw them deeper in.
"Oh for fucks sake." He plunged his hand in after them and then turned to face Draco, glasses dripping onto his shirt. Draco tried not to stare at how the wet material was clinging to the other boy's body, and sneered to cover it up.
"You really are the epitome of elegance and grace, Potter." Draco drawled, making to turn and start back towards the campsite.
"Yes, no. Malfoy! Wait!" A strong hand closed around Draco's wrist and he frowned at it, feigning disgust, staring once more at the scars across tanned knuckles.
"Unhand me at once, Potter!" He spluttered before he realised what, exactly it was that his mouth was apparently saying.
"Unhand you! Unhand?" Potter threw his head back and started laughing, one hand still tight around Draco's wrist and the other clutching his dripping glasses. "What, are you from a Shakespeare play or something?" Draco allowed himself a small smile at how close to the truth Potter had hit. He had spent a lot of his evenings immersed in the book that his mother had given him, and well, he supposed that had sounded quite funny out loud.
Potter stopped laughing when he realised Draco was smiling and stared up at him. Draco hadn't realised just how green his eyes were before. They'd always been hidden behind the lenses of his stupid glasses, and Merlin were they green.
"You can let go you know." He said, still smiling. Potter's cheeks flushed a deep red as his eyes moved down to where he still had Draco's wrist clasped tightly.
"I. Oh. Sorry." He dropped his wrist hurriedly. "You look, different when you're smiling." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, it opened into an 'o' of surprise and he turned redder still, the flush creeping up to the tips of his ears. Despite himself, Draco actually laughed. In that moment he realised that it was just as pleasurable to laugh with Harry, and make his face flush in sweet embarrassment, as it was to fight with him and colour those cheeks with anger. His stomach twisted. Since when was anything about this boy sweet and why had he suddenly become Harry in his mind? The laughter died in his mouth.
"Why, Potter? Just why, have you suddenly decided that your mission in life is to swoop in and, and, start being nice." Draco's face pinched in at that word as if he'd just taken a bite of a particularly vehement lemon. Harry's face drained of colour. Potter damn it, Potter's face.
"Honestly?" Draco gave a slight nod, but didn't say anything, watching as the shorter boy shuffled his feet nervously and ran a hand through his hair again before dropping back down to the grass. Draco hesitated a moment and then decided that it would be too awkward to stay standing and sank gracefully next to him, watching him carefully. Ha- no, Potter, twirled his glasses nervously a few times before looking up and locking Draco's eyes with his own. Once again, Draco was struck by how green and clear they were without the glasses obscuring them.
"Oh, hell." He huffed a great breath of air out of his mouth. "Fine. I used to think I hated you. Absolute hate. You were spoilt, and obnoxious, rude, a total git, and, and downright nasty about the first friend I'd ever had." Draco could feel his eyebrows up somewhere near his hairline. Yes, he'd heard the other boy speak about his like this, but never so calmly. It was like he was just stating facts.
"Tell me how you really feel, Potter." He mumbled, the slight feeling of embarrassment catching him out and keeping his anger in check for once.
"Shut up, just listen.. By the time sixth year came around, I was completely obsessed by the idea that you were always up to something downright awful and evil. But, I think, maybe there was a part of me that was also watching, and waiting for you to prove me wrong, that there was something else to you besides all that misplaced arrogance and prejudice." Draco winced at the image of his father the boy's words were conjuring. Potter drew another great breath and rushed on, afraid that if he stopped for too long the words would run out.
"I started following you. Hell, I was obsessed with you by then. I was, worried," he laughed shortly, "I was worried for you. And then, and then.. I found you, that night. In the bathroom.. And I, I.. I was so horrified by myself." His voice was barely a whisper when Draco cut in loudly;
"But you never said a word to me! You just acted as if it had never happened! That hurt more than the curse in the first place!" Horrified, he felt his eyes begin to burn, and screwed them tightly shut.
"I know. But Merlin, Malfoy.. I was, I am, so, so sorry. I didn't know." His voice was anguished. Draco just nodded curtly for him to continue. He had no idea why he was still sitting here, listening to this, but he couldn't make himself walk away. Potter sighed shakily.
"I've never, never stopped thinking about that night. I.. I have more nightmares about that, then about, well, Voldemort. Please, please believe me, that I'm so sorry. Please accept my apology." He hung his head, cheeks still flaming, but with embarrassment or now shame, Draco didn't know.
"So that's why you've become my personal saviour then?" Draco spat the words out, his voice was icy, dripping with contempt, even though the tone didn't quite match the emotions swirling through him. He was beyond confused about what was happening here.
"No! Listen, yes! But no, not just that." Potter was tripping over his words now and Draco felt an unexpected rush of compassion, but shook it off with a scowl.
"Well, do enlighten me, Potter."
"It was that night in the Astronomy tower." Draco inhaled harshly. "I saw it, saw everything. You, lowered your wand. You wanted to take that offer of protection, I know you did," He continued, cutting off Draco's response. "If the others hadn't arrived when they did, I think you would have. And then you saved me at the manor. I meant what I said in that courtroom you know, Malfoy. I know you had no less choice about your part in the war than I did, but you made a choice that day." Draco studied him intensely, but only found outright honesty in the other's face. He sighed.
"I know there's more to you than your upbringing Malfoy." Potter shuffled round on the grass to face him straight on, he held out his hand. For a moment, Draco was transported back to being eleven years old again, and then Harry spoke. "I'd like to start over. Hi, I'm Harry Potter." His smile was so earnest it made Draco laugh again.
"Draco Malfoy." He took his hand. Harry laughed too, a low, warm sound. There was no denying that Draco definitely enjoyed making Harry laugh, as much as there was no denying that it was definitely Harry in his head now. Draco heard a sharp intake of breath and felt his hand being twisted over. Harry had finally noticed the matching scars.
"I dream about this night too." Harry murmured, tracing his thumb over the slightly raised edges of Draco's scars. Draco snatched his hand away from the intensity of Harry's touch.
"Me too." He admitted after a beat of silence. The silence then stretched out between them, turning awkward as Harry couldn't tear his gaze away from Draco's hand, and Draco couldn't stop thinking about how it had felt when Harry had touched his hand like that.. So, gently.
Both boys were saved from the awkwardness by Harry's owl swooping down and settling next to Harry. It blinked its large amber eyes at Harry seriously and held out its leg.
"Hi, Caelum." Harry murmured, running a finger gently across the owl's black feathered head. It hooted softly and held out its leg more insistently. When Harry reached out to take the parchment the thing swivelled its head to look at Draco, and he swore it hissed at him. Affronted, Draco crossed his arms.
"Figures that your bird would bloody hate me. Almost took a chunk out of me the last time." He sniffed derisively, glaring right back at it. It ruffled up its feathers and twittered angrily. Harry chuckled.
"Don't worry, it's not just you. He got a good piece of me with each bit of mail I sent or received for a good year." Harry uncurled the parchment and grinned.
"Hermione and Ron found her parents!" He glanced up to see Draco frowning at him. "They were in Australia, after she obliviated them, and they've found them!" His explanation fell short.
"What are you on about, Potter?" Hermione obliviated her own parents? But, why?
"It was at the end of the summer after sixth year," Harry began, face scrunched up trying to remember properly, "We were about to, well, I, was about to leave, should've figured they'd never let me go on my own. And well, you know what it was like. Entire families of muggleborn witches and wizards were disappearing, being tortured, killed. Hermione just couldn't bear the thought of that happening to her family. So she obliviated them, wiped her from their memories entirely. Set a new life up for them in Australia. They've been gone since the trials ended. Now all they need to do is figure out how, or, if, the memory charm can be reversed."
Draco sat in silence. He had forgotten that people who had fought for the light would have their own actions to deal with and account for. Now, he could see Granger in a new light. Only sheer desperation could have made her do something like that. Would he have done that, if the positions were reversed? Could he have done it? He thought it would take someone very strong, and selfless to be able to do such a thing. It would have been so, painful. Draco was taken aback by his empathy for her situation.
"Anyway." Harry's voice brought him out of his reverie once more. "I guess that's it, really. I'm glad we're starting over." He didn't say any more about Hermione, maybe he could tell that it had left Draco a lot to think about. When did he get so perceptive? Draco was finding his opinions on many people being revised recently. Harry got to his feet slowly, stumbling a bit, but staying safely away from the edge of the lake this time, putting his now dry glasses back on. Draco missed the intensity of the green a bit. But only a bit.
"I'll see you around, yeah?" His voice was tentative, as was his smile.
"Yeah." Draco echoed quietly. "Around." Harry's smile got wider, and he nodded once before turning and slowly strolling back towards the campsite. Draco sat for a long time after that, pulling his cloak and scarf tightly around him against the cold. He thought about what Harry had told him about Granger. About what Harry had said about him, his apology, how he had traced his scars with a gentle intensity that had scared him. Draco sat long after his body had become numb from the cold, only moving when the sun started to set over the small, rippling waves. He fell over his own feet when he tried to stand, and had to stamp them a few times to get the blood flowing back in to them.
He returned to the campsite to find the celebrations in full swing, and when Harry caught his eye across the fire and smiled at him, he smiled back.
