Author's note: Oh, I had fun with this. I love writing from Draco's POV, it's always so satisfying. I hope it's as satisfying for you to read.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, JK Rowling wasn't good enough to reconcile Harry and Draco in the actual books, so it's up to people like me to remedy that.
--Tamara
Inevitable
It's useless to try and slow down time, but everyone tries it anyway. Draco was no exception in this, apart from the fact that he did his very best to enchant all the clocks in his house to work backwards, as though that would make time itself obey. Needless to say, it was a fruitless effort, and one that just made things worse for everyone. But he couldn't help it; he was desperate. His father hadn't come back yet, which meant that, when he did come, it would be even worse for everyone. No one stayed with Voldemort longer than they had to. If Draco's parents were still away, something bad must have happened.
And, despite knowing that they would be back eventually, the only emotion he felt when the door slammed open at three in the morning was pure, icy terror, quickly replaced by a hard, heavy feeling of dread. They had to get out. Now. He slipped out of bed and flew across the hall to Harry's room.
"They're back."
Harry sat up with a jolt, his eyes wide. He tugged his hand through his hair, sending it wildly every which way, and demanded, "How long have they been here?"
Draco shrugged. "No idea. Not that long. They haven't found you yet." But they would soon. They had to leave.
"Are they looking for me?"
Draco hoped to God that they weren't yet. "They will be."
Harry sighed, closing his eyes as he thought. "We'll have to leave. Unless you want to fight them now, that is."
Draco shook his head. "No!" Hadn't they been over this before? He wouldn't – couldn't – fight with his father.
"I didn't think so." Harry frowned, thinking aloud. "Where can we go?"
Draco shrugged, trying to mask his growing panic. "There isn't some hideaway used by those combating the dark side?" He hoped Harry didn't hear the ring of desperation in his voice.
"There is, but you can't go there."
His anger was fueled by fear and exhaustion, and his reply was much sharper than he'd intended. "Oh, so now you're doubting my loyalty? Some way to repay what I've done. Maybe I should just let my father find you!"
"I didn't mean it that way," Harry snapped back, his own voice too sharp. "If it were up to me, you'd be in right away. But it's protected and I'm not secret keeper. You can't get to it until I write to Dumbledore."
"Oh, and you think he'll let me in?" They were wasting precious time here! Who cared what the old coot had to say? They had to get away, and they had to do it now!
Harry scowled. "He'd better! It's my house, after all!"
That was unexpected. What was Harry talking about? "The muggle house? But… but I could get there just fine!"
"Not that one." Harry shuddered slightly. "God no. This is Sirius' house."
"Sirius… Sirius Black?" What was Harry doing having Black's house?
Harry nodded. "He was my Godfather, remember?"
Draco had forgotten that minor detail, but he didn't mention it. It wasn't important. "And he left you his house?"
"Among other things. But we can't actually get there until Dumbledore lets you in." Harry bit his lip, looking annoyed. With a slight growl, he said, "It'll have to be my aunt and uncle's house."
Draco grimaced, remembering the muggle house. He certainly didn't want to go there again. "Must we?"
"You have a better place in mind?" Harry demanded. Draco said nothing. He didn't have any other options. Once, he would have been able to name a dozen hideaways in moments, but times had changed. "I didn't think so. Do you want to go there or stay here and be caught?"
"You make it sound like the latter is actually a choice."
"You always have a choice," Harry reminded him. "So which is it?"
Draco didn't bother replying, merely sending a glower in Harry's direction. If the black haired boy thought for even one moment that Draco would rather stay here…
"Fine. Anything you can't live without?"
"My broom?" He hadn't meant it to come out as a question, but it had. He winced slightly.
"How else were we going to get there?"
Draco blinked. "You can't Apparate?" That was a surprise. Draco had been fairly certain that all the sixth years had learned. He knew he had.
"Never bothered to learn. Why, can you?"
"Of course." Really, where had Harry been last year? Well, apart from with Draco, that is.
"Brooms anyway?"
"I'm not leaving mine behind," Draco informed him. "I have no desire for it to serve as firewood for tomorrow's dinner." So what if his father had been the one to buy it? It was a good broom, and he wouldn't be able to afford one for himself until he came into his inheritance, which wouldn't happen until he was at least twenty-one, if then. He wouldn't put it past his father to write him completely out of the will, after what he was going to do.
Harry nodded. "So how do we get there?"
Draco grinned slightly. Finally, a question he could answer with absolute certainty! "Through the window. How else?" He moved with practice silence to the window and opened it, pulling the curtains out of the way. Checking for lights behind him, he slid gracefully out and down to the ground, landing catlike with his hands hitting the ground moments after his feet. Harry followed, but he wasn't used to it, and missed the landing. He winced as he stood, glancing at his ankle.
"Are you all right?"
Harry nodded. "Misjudged the distance," he murmured. He shook his head, then added, "Let's go." They ran across the dark field, Draco reaching out for Harry's hand as he did so. It might impede their speed slightly, but Draco needed the reassurance. From the way Harry clutched Draco's hand, the other boy needed it to. Harry spelled the door open on the run, and they dashed inside.
"You'd better close your eyes," Draco warned, holding his broom in one hand and Harry with the other. "It's a little disconcerting if you're not used to it."
"What do I do?"
"Just think of the wretched place. Probably your room, since it's the only room I was actually in, thankfully."
Harry nodded and closed his eyes. Draco did the same, focusing on the muggle house. He called up the now familiar magic used to Apparate, and gave a silent command. The world disintegrated around him, and then reformed again with a loud crack. He opened his eyes to find that they'd both arrived safely, with all body parts intact. He breathed a slight sigh of relief. Splinching one's boyfriend might not be the best way to maintain a relationship.
"You alright?" Draco asked, his voice sounding slightly muffled. Harry nodded. Moments later, both of their heads turned towards the door as they detected the sounds of someone barging up the stairs.
"WHO THE RUDDY HELL IS UP THERE??"
Draco winced slightly, the shout conjuring up memories of a similar roar in a different house. He forced himself to concentrate on the present, telling himself firmly that this would be one of Harry's relatives, not one of his. Harry glanced at him. Draco responded with a slight shrug. "Do you have any great desire to hide our presence from your relatives?"
"It wouldn't really do any good, since he's coming up anyway." Harry's voice was confident and strong, which did a lot for Draco's own state of mind.
"We could leave," he pointed out, knowing as he did so that it wasn't an option.
"And go where? My uncle might be an idiot and a bully, but he's never actually hit me."
Draco winced slightly at that. Wrong thing to bring up. He focused again on the sounds, far louder than any his own father would make in a similar circumstance. "I suppose," he muttered.
The door swung open and his the wall with a crash, relieving Harry's uncle. Draco studied him, fascinated despite himself, trying to find a resemblance between Harry and this pig-like man. When he utterly failed to find any, he decided that it must be through Harry's aunt that they were related. That was a relief, at least.
"You?!" Draco winced slightly at the loudness of the man's voice. Didn't he believe in letting the neighbors sleep? Draco assumed that they would take about as well to being woken up in the middle of the night as he himself would under normal circumstances. "What are you doing here?"
Harry looked coldly at his uncle, clearly not afraid of the man in the least. "We're running away," he said bluntly. "Draco's father is a sadistic terrorist who will kill us if he finds us. We have to get into contact with the headmaster of our school so that he can give Draco the password to my house and we can stay there until school starts."
Harry's uncle only stared, unable to take it all in. Draco, slightly amused by Harry's description of his father, muttered, "You forgot the bit about Voldemort." Sadistic terrorist. He would have to remember that.
"Oh yeah. Draco's father works for a terrorist overlord who killed my parents and now has it in for me."
That seemed to spark a recovery. Or at least spark something. Harry's uncle's face turned a rather unhealthy shade of purple as he bellowed, "And so you come here, putting my family's lives in danger and expect me just to ACCEPT IT?!" Draco winced slightly at the volume of the last words, thanking God that at least Harry's room didn't have an echo. That would have been almost unbearable.
"In case you'd forgotten," Harry informed him coldly not looking at the man as he searched through the desk, "I'm part of your family too."
"Not anymore you aren't! I'm disowning you as of now."
"What, so now I won't get that toothpick you left me in your will? Forgive me if I don't cry about that. Here we are!" Harry withdrew a white cylinder from the desk and set it to the paper. Draco eyed it with interest, wondering what it was. It must be some kind of quill, he decided, as Harry began to write. Much smoother than what a quill could do, and easier to handle. He'd have to ask Harry if he could try it sometime. When they were safe once again.
Harry folded the paper, not bothering to wave it dry. Draco guessed that things written with the white sticks didn't need to be dried.
Harry looked around the room, cursing as he realized that his owl was gone. Finally, something Draco could help with. "Give it here." Harry passed him the piece of parchment, and Draco drew his wand. He heard Harry's uncle gasp slightly, but he paid the man no attention. He tapped the note and murmured the spell, watching the note go from a rolled scroll to a paper airplane. He glanced at Harry. "Where do you think he'll be?"
"Try Hogwarts. Someone'll find it, if not Dumbledore."
Draco nodded and cast the necessary spells, then threw the place out the window. It steadied itself and sped off to its destination, quickly vanishing from sight. Draco watched it go, wondering how long it would take for it to find the old coot. He hoped it wouldn't take long. He wanted to get out of the muggle house as quickly as possible, for all of their sakes.
