IWSC Summer Camp
Weasley Cabin - DrarryMadhatter (Laura)
Summer Camp Round 8
Theme - Don't get burnt! Write about a late night beach party
Word Count - 1156
Warnings - None.
Author's Note - We decided to link our fictions together by using different phases of the moon. I was allocated the full moon.
Summary - It's Harry's birthday party on the beach, but the war is still too fresh in his mind and all he can think of is who should be here celebrating with him. Perhaps Draco can cheer him up.
The Killing Moon
Harry wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned back against the large rock he was currently hiding behind. The sounds of laughing and music and general drunken revelry floated on the summer breeze towards him, reminding him that he was meant to be joining them. His friends. Hell, the entire eighth year class actually. It turned out that you couldn't plan a beach party without it being crashed by all and sundry, especially if it was the Saviour's birthday party. Who knew?
Harry sighed for what felt like the hundredth time and rolled his stiffening shoulders. Leaning against a large boulder wasn't the most comfortable of positions, but it was surely better than pretending along with everyone else. Merlin, Harry hated that they were all so good at pretending. They laughed and joked and drank and danced. Some were flirting, others outright snogging as if their lives depended upon it, and maybe it did.
He leaned back and looked at the night sky, the stars unusually clear and bright. He wished he had paid more attention in Astronomy, maybe he could find Sirius up there. He could just picture Sirius lounging on a cloud, a butterbeer in hand and his arms around his mum and dad, their faces crinkled in laughter at whatever daft joke Sirius had just cracked. Remus too, shaking his head in fond despair at his friends, while Tonks sat on his knee and told him to lighten up.
The stars began to blur and his vision swam with unshed tears. His throat felt blocked with pain and loss and the unfairness of it all that he thought he might choke, suffocate. And the resentment — Merlin, the resentment! — that his friends and their friends and everyone in the world it seemed were having a great time! Enjoying themselves! Like there weren't people who should be there with them that had died. Like he hadn't died.
He scrunched his eyes shut tight against the incessant burning in his tear ducts and forced himself to breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. Be calm, he told himself for the umpteenth time, you're meant to be happy. Another year older and all that.
The sound of footsteps approaching jerked Harry out of reverie and he whipped his head around, looking to see who it was. He wasn't sure if he wanted it to be Ron and Hermione or not. He loved them, but they didn't get it. No one did. Who could, really? After a few seconds, the source of the footsteps appeared around the side of the boulder and stopped right next to him. Harry didn't need to look up to know who it was. He could just feel it, as he always could when the git entered his general area. Like magnet poles pulling on each other indefinitely.
"I'm surprised at you, Potter. Everyone is celebrating another year of you and you're hiding out here. One would think you weren't enjoying all the attention."
The voice, usually so latent with judgement and contempt, was soft and understanding and it was this that made Harry open his eyes and fix his one-time nemesis with a watery stare. They looked at each other for a second and then Draco lowered himself to sit beside Harry, their legs brushing as he settled against the large rock. Harry didn't look at him, and he didn't look at Harry, but rather they both started out at the dark water reflecting the light of the full moon. The sound of the waves breaking on the nearby rocks occasionally broken with shrieks of delight and drunken singing from the party not too far away along the other side of the beach.
"It's nice. I can see why you've hidden here."
"I haven't hidden, Malfoy."
"Haven't you?" Draco looked at Harry then, and like a moth to a flame Harry felt himself meet his eyes. The penetrating intensity of Draco's gaze made Harry feel itchy like he was being levelled, scrutinised. Harry couldn't help but wonder what it was that Draco was looking for. After a long moment, Draco looked away towards the waves again and Harry felt his shoulders sag in relief at the reprieve.
"This reminds me of that song, the Killing Moon?"
"That's a muggle song," blurted Harry, unable to help himself.
"Yeah, surprising as it may be, I have layers, Potter."
There was silence again for a few minutes before curiosity won out and Harry had to ask, "what about the song?"
"You know, seeing you sitting here under a full moon under the stars feeling like things are just that little bit too late and not quite enough." Draco's voice was soft and gentle, like a comforting hug or a warm bath. It was off-putting and welcoming all at the same time.
"The stars do look a bit like jewels, don't they?" mused Harry, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
They were silent another few minutes and then Draco reached out and pointed towards a particular group of stars twinkling above them.
"You see that group of stars right there? That's Canis Major. It means 'the greater dog'. Do you see that really bright star just under the head? That's Sirius. You know, just in case you were wondering."
Harry found himself looking at Draco again, fully aware that his eyes were red-rimmed with the pressure of the tears that had been so desperate to escape since the final battle.
"How did you know?"
"Because I would want to know."
They held each other's gazes. Harry felt like something more, extra, and greater than the two of them was taking seed. Maybe there was a chance for things to be ok. If he was really sitting on his birthday getting comfort from Draco Malfoy of all people, then surely anything was possible?
"You're not on your own, Potter. You're just adrift. And that's ok."
"Are you adrift?" Harry found himself whispering, as if scared to break the moment.
"I've spent most of my life adrift. No, this is the first time I'm beginning to feel anchored."
"How does it feel?"
"Like hope." Draco's slight smile was infectious, and Harry felt himself return the smile just as his tenuous hold on his tears broke and they began to tumble from swollen lids and down pale cheeks.
Draco lifted his arm and held it out in invitation, and without thinning, Harry gave in to it and leaned his head onto Draco's shoulder and let his tears fall.
"You know, Potter, it's over, and you don't need to save anyone any more. All you need to do is let someone save you for once."
"I think you just did," murmured Harry into Draco's neck, and he felt the arm around him tighten and pull him closer still as the Sirius star and the full moon shone down on them, bathing them in light.