Harry turned over again on his bed, listening to the silence. It was the same silence that had seemed so painful to him after the war. But it had been better than being an Auror, the constant reminder of everything that had happened pressing down on him until he couldn't breathe, forgot where he was, that it was over, for the most part. He still had nightmares, but not as many now, and not here, usually. The landscape being completely different really helped. It hurt to be at Hogwarts. He would sometimes pass a corridor and be hit with a barrage of memories of watching people die, the terror and suffering that had happened there. He still couldn't go into the Astronomy Tower or the Dark Forest at all. But Hogwarts was also a fast paced place, and he could throw himself into his work to forget.
Eventually, he gave up trying to sleep and went to check on his guest. He had heard nothing from the front room all night and was amazed at the unmixed joy he felt when he considered the possibility that Malfoy had fled and he would not have to go back to the Ministry. But he was there, gray eyes open and staring unseeingly at the ceiling, petal pink lips parted.
"Malfoy." Harry said softly. His prisoner started slightly before sitting up to look at him. "Are you hungry? I'm getting a snack." He was quiet for a moment. "Alright." Harry lead him into the dining room and set the table for two before getting started on scrambled eggs. For everything, he still didn't really know how to cook. When the eggs were done, he dished them out, and told Malfoy, "Eat."
He took up a forkful of eggs but froze when it was halfway up to his mouth. "You would eat with your enemy?" "I'm hungry," Harry said tiredly. Malfoy snorted. He hesitated for a second more before determinedly putting the eggs in his mouth. They ate in silence until they were finished. When Harry got up to do the dishes, Malfoy rose with him. Harry raised an eyebrow but otherwise did not say anything. As they washed and dried the dishes, he found himself looking into Malfoy's face, trying to see the self-assured prick that had bothered him for half his life, and found nothing. All he saw were dark eyes shining with something akin to what he saw when he looked into his own eyes in the mirror. He turned away and they finished the dishes in understanding quiet.
"Why did you run?" The accusing tone in his own voice surprised him. Malfoy looked away. "My family had long fallen out with those in power." He raised his eyes again to Harry's. "I could only prolong the inevitable. Now what will they do with me, I wonder." "Are you afraid?" He stiffened, turned away once more. "Are you sorry?" He didn't answer the question, but asked instead, "Will the Weasel be coming back for me?" "I don't know. Probably not. Why?" "Are you taking me the rest of the way, then?" "Maybe. Why?" Malfoy began walking back to his transfigured bed. "Why?" Harry repeated. He looked back at him. "Come with me. Please."
During the night the wind increased. Harry could hear it outside, whipping against itself before settling down a little. He tried to hear Malfoy's breathing and found that he could, the house being more quiet than the tomb it was for his unruly soul. In this house sleeping alone for years, another presence bothered him. But it also bothered him by imposing on him a sort of connection he refused to accept at the moment. Those who had experienced the worst atrocities of the war and not been able to put themselves back together again had the same look, the same feel, of those fractured. An ancient comradery bound them; that of similar experience and troubles. But Harry shook himself; he didn't like such musings and it was essential to sleep.
A little later however, when he heard a stir in Malfoy's breathing, Harry was still not asleep. When his prisoner made a second move, he stiffened, on the alert. He did not move, save to clutch at his wand under his covers. It was better to act all at once. He heard footsteps, light and near-silent, but the man they belonged to did not appear in his doorway. For a moment he thought that Malfoy would run away, and thought "Good riddance!", despite the small pang of disappointment lodged in his chest. But the latch on the front door did not move. Instead, all Harry heard was water running from the kitchen tap. He then heard those same light footsteps quietly return to the front room. Harry rolled over and wiped at his forehead. cursed himself, and fell asleep. All night his dreams consisted of swift footsteps, petal pink lips, fierce but sad silver eyes.
Malfoy was still asleep when he had finished his shower, sprawled on blankets with his mouth open looking utterly relaxed. But when Harry shook him, he awoke suddenly, wild eyes as if he had never seen him, and such a frightened expression that Harry flinched. He dropped to his knees and grabbed Malfoy's forearms. "Malfoy, it's ok! It's ok! It's only me." His breath still came in big gasping heaves, but Harry saw the recognition in his eyes. "Harry?" "Yes, yes. It's ok." Malfoy's head fell forward and rested on Harry's shoulder. "You should eat," Harry said. He felt a small nod against his neck before the pressure disappeared and Malfoy stood up, reaching a hand down to help Harry. He found himself missing the touch.
Nothing was said between them for a long time after, but it was a comfortable silence. They still hadn't spoken after breakfast. As he was binding Malfoy's hands again though, he said, "You could run you know. I wouldn't stop you." Mafoy closed his eyes and gave a tired smile. "I can't." Harry twisted his lips around in an approximation of a smile. "I know." Malfoy opened one eye and stared sideways at Harry, a more genuine smile tugging at his lips, "Why'd you ask then?" And then they were both laughing, at everything and nothing, and there were tears prickling in their eyes because it wasn't funny, it really wasn't. But they were still laughing as they made their way out the door and just past Harry's wards, even as the tears spilled over and down their faces. They finally stopped laughing as they reached the apparition site, and wet marks on their cheeks were all that was left.
The rest of the handoff went smoothly, and Harry smiled a little at the proud stalk Malfoy had worked up as he was lead by a short balding man, looking like he was going to a throne room to be crowned rather than a courtroom. His smile vanished just as suddenly as the flash of green appeared, and the world burned down in chaos. It was only later, safe inside his home, that Harry allowed himself to cry.