Harry waited nervously by the fireplace on Friday, constantly checking his watch; it was creeping by ever so slowly. His bag was already packed for the weekend in a duffle bag Ron lent him. Harry paced back and forth, while Ron and Hermione watched him from the couch.
"Are you nervous, Harry?" Hermione asked, watching her best friend as he sighed impatiently at his watch for what must have been the eighth time in five minutes.
"Just a little, to be honest," Harry said, not looking at Hermione.
"What's there to be nervous about?" Ron asked. But then his eyes grew wide, his face forming a look of disgust. "Unless…you guys aren't planning on doing anything, are you?!"
"Of course not!" Harry said indignantly, his face turning red as Hermione's head whipped to look in his direction. "I'm just nervous because I am." Harry resumed his pacing.
"Well that's perfectly understandable, Harry. I mean, you two haven't really been alone since you've started dating." Hermione said.
"Not helping, Hermione," Harry said, glancing at his watch as it flashed twelve. "Ok, it's time." Harry picked up his bag and turned to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, and stepped in, turning to look at his friends. "I guess I'll see you guys in a few days." Harry said, giving a brief wave. The two waved back as Harry threw the powder down, yelling, "Black Cottage!" and he was whipped out of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.
Harry kept his eyes closed, feeling queasy as he whipped from fireplace to fireplace. Just as Harry felt like he was going to be sick, he felt his feet hit firm ground and he toppled over. Just before he hit the ground, however, a strong pair of hands caught him in time.
"Close one, eh?" Draco said, helping Harry back to his feet. "You alright?"
"Yeah, thanks." Harry said, brushing the soot off himself. Once he was brushed off, he looked up at Draco – his breath catching in his throat; Draco was wearing black skinny jeans and a dark purple fitted T-Shirt showing off his Quidditch body – he looked absolutely gorgeous. Harry quickly looked down at his own clothes; he was wearing Dudley's hand-me-down, loose-fitting dark blue T-Shirt and jeans tied up with a belt; he felt shabby. Draco noticed Harry comparing the two and chuckled.
"Harry, I think you look fine. But if you really want, I can show you where you'll be sleeping so you can change if you wish." Draco said, giving Harry a sincere smile. Harry smiled back, nodding. Draco took Harry's hand and led him out of the living room and into a cozy looking hallway, past the dining room, and up the stairs to the second floor landing. They continued to head straight and into a room that was completely different than the rest of the house.
The room was light blue in color, with a mahogany bedframe and wardrobe. The bed, which was placed against the back wall, was made up with a white bed set. Across from that was a fireplace. Harry walked further into the room, placing his bag next to the bed, and sitting on it. It was incredibly soft. The comforter felt as though it was made with goose feathers. He looked up to find Draco watching him closely.
"So? What do you think?" Draco asked, sticking his hands in the backs of his pockets.
"It's nice, and the bed is quite comfortable." Harry said, smiling up at Draco, who smiled back.
"Great! After you change, I'll show you my room and then maybe we can go for a walk or something," Draco suggested.
"Sure, I'd like that!" Harry said, bending down to unzip his bag. Draco left the room while Harry rummaged through his bag, trying to pick out something that complimented him better. After dumping his bag onto the bed, he was able to find a plain white collared button up T-shirt and a pair of black jeans that fit him a little better than what he was previously wearing. Once he was finished getting changed and throwing everything back into his bag, he grabbed his sweater and opened up his bedroom door to find Draco just outside of it; he was leaning against another door opposite Harry's – that must have been his room.
"You look nice," Draco said, looking Harry up and down, smiling. "Come on, this is my room." Draco turned and opened the door behind him, revealing another room just like Harry's, except the bed was a dark blue in color. There was also a fireplace situated right across from the bed. "I just wanted to make sure you knew where my room was in case there was a problem or something."
"I like it. This is a pretty cozy cottage." Harry said as they left the room, heading back down the stairs.
"Yeah, my grandmother has been living here ever since I can remember. I've always loved coming here." Draco said as they reached the landing.
"I'm glad to hear that, dear," just then, Mrs. Black came out of the kitchen wearing an apron. "I'm so glad that you're staying here. It's not too often you would come to visit! Hello Harry! And how are you, dear?" Mrs. Black asked with a big smile on her face.
"I'm great, Mrs. Black! How are you?" Harry couldn't help but smile back her; she just rang with a positive energy that seemed to seep into him.
"Oh I'm wonderful dear! I'm just getting started on a late lunch which should be ready in about an hour. How does that sound?" Mrs. Black said, clapping her hands together.
"Sounds great, grandma. Me and Harry are going to go for a walk. We'll make sure to be back in time," Draco said, grabbing his sweater off the coat rack and throwing it on. Harry followed suit, following Draco out of the back door and into the yard.
The yard looked more like one big garden to Harry. There was every type of flower one could think of flowing from beds everywhere. There were Japanese Cherry Blossom trees everywhere, and the smell wasn't too overpowering; it was perfect. What amazed Harry the most was how all these plants were still living in the dead of winter. Already there was a light snow starting to drift slowly down. But as soon the flakes got within an inch of the flower, it evaporated.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Draco said, watching Harry's reaction and smiling. "My grandpa started it when he and my grandmother moved here. He loved to garden, it was his passion." Harry turned to Draco, whose voice seemed to take on a sad note.
"Was?" Harry asked. Draco kept his eyes forward as they walked deeper into the garden.
"My grandpa died when I was seven. I used to sit out here watching him and grandma for hours. I never got into gardening myself, but I always liked watching the different flowers and plants he would bring in. Plus it made him happy." Draco said, smiling at a distant memory.
"You must really miss him," Harry said, still watching Draco.
"Yeah. We were really close to each other. He was more of a father figure to me than my own father. But then he got really sick and…well, it was hard for me anyway." Draco said, trailing off. Harry took Draco's hand into his and squeezed.
"Hey, at least you're keeping his memory alive. Look how beautiful the garden looks. I mean, how is the snow not touching it?" Harry asked, stopping and looking at some daisies. Draco smiled and bent down next to Harry, inhaling their scent.
"My grandfather's least favorite season was winter for this very reason. He hated seeing his hard work die. So he cast a very complicated charm so that harsh weather like snow and wind wouldn't destroy his precious flowers." Draco said, standing back up. They continued to walk, both of them silent for a moment. The snow was coming down a little thicker now, and still they walked on. Harry didn't realize just how big the garden was until he briefly looked back and could barely see the cottage.
"Let's sit down for a bit," Draco suggested, pulling Harry in the direction of a wooden bench under a willow tree. They sat down, looking out into the garden. The snow falling around them and not touching the plants made the scene seem all the more magical.
"Is that why you don't visit your grandmother as often as you used to?" Harry asked, continuing the conversation.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked, looking at Harry in confusion.
"Your grandmother said that it wasn't too often that you would come to visit. Is it because of your grandfather?" Harry said, looking at Draco.
"Oh," Draco sighed. "Yeah, like I said, I took his death pretty hard. Plus, I was seven so I didn't really understand the concept of death. Don't get me wrong, I love my grandmother. But when grandpa died, we drifted a little. I would still come and see her, but it wouldn't be as often as when he was alive." Draco explained, looking down at his feet. Harry turned to face Draco fully, grabbing his other hand into his own, forcing Draco to turn and look at him as well.
"Listen, I can tell that your grandmother loves you very much. I'm sure she was hoping that you two would have gotten closer when he died. But you can't let your grandfather's death ruin your relationship with your grandmother. I know I've never met your grandfather, but I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted that." Harry said, looking Draco in the eyes.
"Thanks Harry. You know, I haven't even told my grandmother why I stopped visiting as often. I guess I should talk to her about it sometime." Draco said smiling.
"That would be a good idea," Harry said, smiling.
"What about you? I know you live with your aunt and uncle, but what about your grandparents? Did you ever meet them?" Draco asked.
"I've never met my grandparents on either side. I know they aren't living anymore, but I don't know if they were killed like my parents were or not." Harry said. He felt weird; he had never thought of his grandparents before, he was always too busy thinking about his parents and what could have been.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Draco said, and he meant it. "What about your aunt and uncle? Don't they talk about them?"
Harry gave a very bitter laugh. "Ha! They hate when I ask questions. In fact, I'm lucky if they even talk to me without looking at me in disgust." Harry said, not looking Draco in the eye. Other than his two best friends and Sirius, no one really knew how the Dursley's treated him.
"Why don't they like it when you ask questions? And why would they look at you in disgust?" Draco asked, watching Harry as he prodded the leg of the bench with his toe. Harry sighed.
"My aunt and uncle don't want to have anything to do with magic. They resent me because they got stuck with me when my parents died and the only reason why they put up with me is because Dumbledore says they have too, and they're scared of him. I don't understand why though, but I'm sure he has his reasons. And as for why they don't like questions, I don't know. I guess the fewer questions I ask, the less they have to talk to me." Harry said. He could feel his face starting to burn with embarrassment. "You probably think I'm pathetic, right?"
"Why would I think you're pathetic?" Draco asked almost angrily. Harry looked up at Draco, watching his face scrunch up. "Harry, you live with people who obviously don't care enough to even answer simple questions for you, and you think you're pathetic? They're the ones who are pathetic! Your parents were murdered and they were the only ones there for you; you would think they would at least treat you with some sort of decency. I mean, who cares if you're a wizard? And what's so wrong with magic, anyway?"
Harry watched Draco with amazement as he went on a rant about the Dursley's. His smile grew wider as Draco's grew angrier; Harry found Draco more attractive even more so at this indignation. He leaned over and cut Draco mid-sentence as he passionately kissed him. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss; Draco gently placed his hands on Harry's hips. The butterflies returned to Harry's stomach at Draco's intimate touch, but found that he liked it. They sat there for what felt like hours, kissing passionately, each missing the other's comforting embrace.
"I was just about to call you two!" Mrs. Black said as Draco and Harry walked through the backdoor, taking off their wet sweaters; the snow was coming down more fiercely. In fact, the only reason Harry and Draco broke off their little make out session was because the temperature was dropping significantly – they couldn't stand the cold much longer.
"Sorry grandma," Draco said, taking a seat at the table, Harry right next to him.
"No worries, dear. Now, I thought a nice soup was in order for such a cold day!" Mrs. Black said, placing a bowl of hot soup in front of the two. Harry and Draco dug in hungrily.
After dinner, Harry and Draco helped with the dishes and the cleaning of the kitchen, while Mrs. Black went to take a nap.
"She really does work hard, my grandmother." Draco said, putting the dry dishes away. "Now that I'm here, though, she can get the rest that she deserves."
"Yeah, and she looked really grateful when we said we would do this for her," Harry said, sweeping up the last of the dust in the dustpan and dumping it into the trash.
After finishing up the rest of the kitchen, Harry and Draco made their way up to Draco's bedroom, where they sat and exchanged more stories of their past. Harry couldn't believe how easy it was to talk with Draco; he seemed to understand his concerns and fears, his hatred towards his aunt and uncle, and could truly appreciate why he wanted to be with the Weasley's so much…because they were the only true family that he had.
Likewise, Draco never had anyone to talk to about his troubles; the troubles with his father, how he wanted him to be a Death Eater, the pressures of marrying a pure-blood. Draco could hardly talk to his Blaise and Pansy about this, even before they stopped talking to him; they had no problem with their parents controlling their lives, telling them who they can marry and who they couldn't. Draco wasn't for that life.
The two talked into the late hours of the night, the snow continually falling outside, leaving the front and side of the house that wasn't enchanted to build with snow. At a quarter to midnight, Harry and Draco said their good-nights. Harry slipped quietly into his own room, changed, and got into bed. It was so soft and warm, that he immediately fell asleep.
Harry couldn't remember if he had dreamt at all while sleeping. All he could remember was the feeling that he was being watched – that was what woke him. He lifted his head off the comfy pillow to look around the dark room; he forgot to take off his glasses, which were askew on his face. He straightened them out in time to briefly see a head in his fireplace. As soon as harry looked at it, it vanished, leaving Harry in a panicked state.
Harry jumped out of his bed and scrambled to the bedroom door his eyes never leaving the fireplace. He hurled himself through the door, quietly tip-toeing across the hall to Draco's room, and opening his door. Draco's room was also in darkness, except for a sliver of moonlight coming through his curtain. Harry closed the door softly behind him and walked up to Draco. He was on the fence about waking him up…but on the other hand, there was no denying whose head that belonged to in the fireplace…
"Draco! Draco, wake up!" Harry said quietly, gently shaking Draco. Draco, who was sleeping on his stomach, lifted himself onto one arm and looked at Harry with a sleepy expression.
"Harry? What's wrong?" Draco asked, noticing the scared expression on Harry's face. Draco turned around and sat up fully.
"Draco, I know this is going to sound completely weird, but I think I just saw your father in my fireplace!" Harry said, his voice shaking. Draco's eyes grew wide.
"What? What do you mean?"
"I woke up because I felt like someone was watching me, and when I looked in the fireplace, your father's head was floating there," Harry explained; the memory was all too real for him. Draco looked at Harry in wonderment, trying to comprehend what Harry was saying.
"Um, well...erm…what did he do?" Draco stammered.
"Well, as soon as I looked at him, he disappeared," Harry said.
"He just disappeared? Hmm…you don't think that it was just a dream or something? I mean, because we were bashing on him a lot today." Draco suggested, but the fear was still evident in his voice. Harry shook his head.
"I'm pretty sure it was real. Either that, or that was one of the most interactive dreams I've ever had," Harry said, starting to get goose bumps on his arms. Draco took a deep breath; even through the darkness, he could clearly see the fear on Harry's face.
"I mean, if you're that freaked out, you can just bunk with me tonight," Draco suggested. He could already feel his face growing hot with nerves. Harry looked at him with wide eyes for a moment, than back at the door, clearly debating within is head. "Or you could go back to your room and hope it was a dream."
Harry quickly shook his head and, throwing back the covers, hoped into the bed beside Draco, who couldn't help but chuckle at Harry. Harry glared at Draco jokingly. "You can stay in the other room and hope my experience was just a dream." Draco shook his head and dive underneath the covers, hiding his head. Harry laughed. He lifted the covers to find Draco staring up at him, a big smile on his face. Harry slid the rest of the way under the covers until he was face to face with Draco. They smiled briefly, before starting becoming drowsy once more. Just before Harry nodded off, he could feel Draco's hand coiling around his own, their fingers interlocking. It was only then that Harry felt safe.