Chapter Three: Relief
Daylight brought no relief for Harry Potter. He shunned it, stayed away from it. Daylight brought the predators, the jackals, the reporters, who even now, tried to get a glimpse of the mad Boy-Who-Lived. But he remembered. And he longed.
And so Draco helped him sneak out at night. And they flew, high over the Forbidden Forest, soaring as high as they dared go, riding tandem. Harry snuggled against Draco's chest, sitting before him on Draco's old Nimbus 2001. It was a way of forgetting, and of remembering, and Harry loved it. He loved the nights when Draco would come down to his room, hidden away from the rest of the school, and bring him out to the Quidditch Pitch. They flew as daringly as they could with two on a broom meant for one, through the scoring hoops, around the stands, over the Forest. Draco talked about the days when they had flown against each other. When he had dressed up as a Dementor to scare Harry into losing a match. Harry laughed quietly as the memories returned.
He would have been able to scare the Dementors at Azkaban away just as well as he had managed to topple Draco over that day. But they had taken his wand away, snapped it in half. They slowed to a stop, hovering in the night air, and Draco held him as Harry explained why he didn't need his wand any longer.
After he had explained, Draco flew down, and they landed on the dewy grass of the flying lesson grounds. Their landing was perhaps a little shaky, but on the whole good, considering what Draco had just heard. Once safely on the ground, they walked around together for a while, dark head bent to pale, explaining things better left unexplained. And so Draco learnt more about the boy to whom he had given his heart.
No one knew this about him. Harry himself didn't know. But just as he had heard more and more of his parent's deaths, every time he was exposed to a Dementor, so it was that how far back he heard things increased. And soon, nearing the end of his two-year imprisonment, he had learnt the truth about himself.
Draco's legs finally gave out and he sat down on the ground, hard. "Show me," he whispered. "Show me."
Harry held out his hand, palm up, and it started glowing a soft silver. "Black," he said, explaining so much in a single word. Draco shivered. A single rose appeared on Harry's outstretched palm, and he closed his fingers around it, offering it to Draco. The other boy took it without hesitation, inhaling its sweet fragrance. Harry touched the stem, trimming it with magic, and tucked it behind Draco's left ear. "Beautiful," he murmured. Draco blushed softly.
And then he leant forward and kissed Draco.
