Thursday the 31st of July 1997 started like any other day. Perfectly normal, if not a tad too warm.
Draco kicked off his light blanket and stared at the ceiling, contemplating the benefits of depleting his already scarce supply of sleeping draught in one go. The entire thing. He was running low, having had to take a dose for each of the last three nights, but, if asked to choose any good day to slip into a coma, today would be the one.
Harry would worry, though, if his flatmate were to suddenly fall into an inexplicable death-like sleep. Maybe he would try to kiss him awake, like Cinderella. Or was it Beauty? Of-fucking-course, sleeping beauty. Draco dismissed the thought immediately.
He curled up on the window bay, bare skin pressed against the cool glass.
Harry.
Draco could hear him moving around the flat. Scott, too. But that was okay, Draco could share on Harry's birthday and, Scott, was the lesser of the evils. Tonight, tonight after all was only theirs.
He looked outside and couldn't help smiling at the thought of the overgrown palm tree that obscured most of Harry's bedroom window. Just last week the idiot had expressed the intention to try climbing it down. Maybe Draco didn't need to bring him back to England, for him to die. He dismissed this thought as well as it was, unsurprisingly, of no comfort.
From his room, the view was great. He watched as a moderate breeze rippled through the grass of the gardens below, carrying along a stray leaflet and some plastic straws. Normally, he had gathered during the last month, a windy day would start and end that way.
Perfect. He really hoped it would.
He stretched one hand towards the desk, reaching for the diary and faltered. Almost there. His finger touched the hard cover just as he lost his balance and went crashing to the floor.
"Are you okay?" Came Harry's concerned voice from somewhere in the flat.
"Yeah!" Draco yelled, straightening up. He knew Harry would not breach the privacy of his room without asking, and he was glad. He wasn't ready to face him yet.
As expected, there was a new entry from Lupin.
"I'm bringing Ron and Hermione to the house in the morning. Hermione will have questions, I am sure of that. Are you ready? Do you feel confident with the spell?"
Draco ignored that. "Well, I do hope you dismantled that little shrine to Harry Potter you had going on in the spare room, or of course they'll have questions!"
"It was only a couple of pictures. I don't know, they were Muggle ones Sirius had found somewhere. A boy at Hogwarts, I think, Colin. They helped me focus on Harry's happiness and not my guilt. But, yes, I have, thanks for your input. I'll have to tell them what I have done anyway."
Draco sneered. It was an unfortunate thing Lupin could not see him. He chewed on the side of his thumb, thinking that he should really practice the spell. Everything else was ready for Harry to regain his magic. Lupin had given him Harry's wand in exchange for Dumbledore's, which Draco had gladly surrendered, happy to be rid of it. The holly wand, on the other side, now rested hidden in one of Draco's socks. Out of sight, out of mind.
"They will be delighted to see me." He wrote, thinking about Granger and Weasley.
"About that." Lupin started. "I have collected a decent sum, and I can get it to you via bank transfer. I'm sure Harry will be okay to pass on all the Muggle money he won't need any longer. There isn't much sense in coming back with him for you to leave again. California is the safest option and at least you know some people already."
Draco froze. "Leave???"
"That was the deal. You asked for a new identity and a place to hide. I can arrange something else, if you'd rather not stay where you are. I guess dealing with Harry's friends after his abrupt disappearance could be an inconvenience."
Oh, that. Draco felt his anger rise. At Lupin, at himself. At the whole situation. "Leave!" He repeated. "I'm not fucking leaving him."
His hand trembled with rage and he took a deep breath to collect himself. "He is a year out of practice with any spell, let alone any defensive one. Granted, he was somewhat capable in school and even had his little anarchist group in the last year, but he has lived like a Muggle for so long now. The idiot is going to get himself killed without me, and I cannot count on you Gryffindors to have any sense. If he still wants me…" He took a pause at that, the fear that he had been trying to repress for the last few nights hitting him stronger than ever. This one thing, this one was out of his control. "If he still wants my friendship, even after everything, I will come back with him. To stay." He clarified. The idea of letting Harry go on his own was ludicrous. To leave once the other boy had safely been delivered to Wales, well that depended solely on Harry. Once back with Granger and Weasley, he might not feel the need to keep Draco around. Draco could not bear to think about the after and he briefly wondered when he had come to care so much.
"Draco," Lupin wrote, a silent word on paper but the tone so clear that it felt like it had actually been spoken just across from him. Draco hated it, and what would surely come next. Lupin's pity.
Yet, his former Professor surprised him once again. "One of Harry's greatest qualities is his forgiving heart. You'll be surprised."
"One of his stupidest qualities, you mean. He is bloody naive, that's what he is. An idiot."
"And, still, you seem to have come to care a fair deal about him." Lupin wrote, his words resonating loudly from the diary's page.
"Care?" Draco replied, the feelings that he hadn't been able to make sense of so far spilling on the paper like a waterfall, out of his control. Feelings that he was just then beginning to understand himself, pouring out in lopsided ink across white, his heart unfolding. "Of course I fucking care. I care from the day he didn't laugh at me when I couldn't use a microwave, so stupid and lost in this big unknow world. Like he was when I met him the first time, and I never got it. But he did, oh Remus he so did. I care because of the breakfast he makes sure to leave behind for when I wake up, no matter how early of a start he has that day. I care because of the little notes he tucks under the plate every single time, to make sure that I don't kill the plants or something, when he is the one that never waters them. I care about the fact that he is not scared of his opinions, that he is not perfect and sometimes gets into a real stop for the dumbest thing and will not speak for hours. And, when you are convinced he has forgotten you exist, he'll come out with a cup of coffee he doesn't even drink and tell you he doesn't feel like it. That you can have it, if you want. Like he doesn't care either way, but he is fooling absolutely no one and he bloody knows it." He took a pause, breathing heavily in the silent room. "I care because he flipped my world upside down without even trying. You know, I wanted so hard to find someone to blame for what happened in the last few years. I needed, badly, to be able to wash my hands of my own actions. To say that it was pressure, my father, expectations… the fucking lunar cycle. And, maybe, they played a part but it has taken only one month with Harry for me to find the courage to admit I had wanted it all. That I wanted to be stronger, more powerful. That I truly believed my name meant something, that it made me better than most by default. And I know it was me, because I still want things, just different things now. I am ready to take the blame for who I was, because that means recognising the journey that has made me who I am now.
And yes, maybe the catalyst was Potter, maybe it was the shocking normality of his annoying Muggle friends, not so different after all. I am quite sure, though, that Harry would hate to be given all the credit. So, this one is on me. Our original deal can go fuck itself, because the new Draco Malfoy apparently likes riding bicycles and watching kids shows and telling his dick that it's not appopriate to jump Potter's bones when he is lying comatose just inches away. Call it a shift in aspirations, or whatever, I am a changed man. It could be partially credited to the fact that I am horny, perhaps, but it is what it is. Isn't that so fucking mature of me? I bet you are proud." He pressed the last word so hard into the paper that the pen tore through quite a few pages, ripping a long gash all the way to the edge.
He muttered a quick "Reparo", tapping his wand against it. He felt exhausted.
"For what it's worth, I really am. Wish Harry a happy birthday, Draco. I trust you can take it from here. Let me know if you have any trouble with the spell, he'll probably sleep for a couple of days after. I know this will sound hollow, but I am sorry I've left you to deal with everything on your own."
You don't know the half of it, Draco thought bitterly. He shut the journal, determined to focus all his attention on Harry's still unwrapped gifts. His wrist ached but, even so, he decided to do it the Muggle way. They turned out messy and uneven, like a 4 years old had done it, and it took an unnecessary quantity of tape and time. By the end of it Draco was finally ready to leave the room.
The day passed in a blur, mostly punctuated by the same routine Draco was growing so used to. Fond, even. Things were as he had expected them to be: Harry's bashfulness at being at the centre of attention, cat Ron disapproving attitute to their antics, Scott dumb humour and delicious baking.
Draco genuinely liked Scott. Just the other day the boy had joked that he was the only normal one in their group of misfits. "No tragic past." He had said, dramatically, "My mom was adopted, of course, and the whole family moved from France when her and uncle Jacques were kids. But, honestly, the most shocking thing about me is how I ended up with a name like Scott. Dad must have had a hell of an argument to win that one."
Scott's mother was a very tall black woman with long hair in tight ringlets. She managed to look both maternal and daunting at the same time, a bit like Narcissa when she wasn't wearing her public mask of coldness. Scott's father was a shorter and rather hairy man with kind eyes that looked like he had never won an argument in his life. He was the only one of them that didn't work in the bakery. Even Scott's youngest sister, 16 years old Camille, sometimes helped with the family business. It was her that, with darkened cheeks, had delivered Harry's cake in the morning.
Even Ellen had come by, gifting Harry a cinema subscription and a new skateboard to replace the old one he had inherited from one of the other boys. Draco had swallowed, knowing all too well that Harry would not be there long enough to enjoy either.
Still, as he watched Harry unwrapping present after present, he kept his own hidden in the room. "We'll need to be outside for it" He had explained, despite Harry not seeming to have expected a gift at all.
Finally, evening came and the two of them were left alone by the shore. They had walked for a while, stopping by a quieter spot near a rocky reef they often climbed when they wanted to dive or explore, like little kids. The wind had picked up again, messing their hair and bringing the waves crashing loudly against the rocks.
Most people had already left the beach for the day but, while Draco was acutely aware of it, Harry didn't seem to notice the lack of others around them. He sat by the edge of the water, looking contently into the horizon.
Draco paced behind him for a while, before gaining courage and dropping down beside him. He opened the old rucksack he had been carrying around, and took out one package and then the other.
He handed the smaller, wonkier one to Harry with a smirk. "Happy birthday, idiot."
Harry dutifully played the part, pretending to be astonished. "For me?" He said, one hand on his heart. "You shouldn't have."
"Enough faff, open it."
Draco watched in anticipation as Harry tore the paper apart and burst into uncontrollable laughter at what was inside. "Is that Ken?" He asked, once he had recovered. He picked up the doll from the sand, and started laughing again.
"God, you are so dumb!" He wheezed, after a closer inspection.
"Not God, just me. But yes, as you might suspect by now, that is supposed to be you." Draco replied, a satisfied smile spreading across his face and washing some of the nerves away. "I did a good job, I think."
He absolutely did not. The doll he had found had brown hair that Draco had spelled darker. The rest, though, he had added with a marker. A pair of ridiculous spectacles and a lighting bolt scar on the forehead. He had removed the shirt but left the Hawaian orange shorts Ken had come with.
The square, plastic jaw made it look nothing like Harry, but it was all beside the point.
"What made you think that what I really wanted was a toy-sized version of myself?" Harry queried, nudging him in the ribs. "Not that I don't love it. It'll make a great addition to my dream house."
"Your humongous ego." Draco said without hesitation, tackling him back. "But, that aside, you need to open the other present to really get it." He passed the parcel along.
This one was long and flat and Harry observed it for a minute, before picking at the tape with more caution than before. Once done, he stared at the red kite with a mix of amusement and confusion, before turning to Draco.
Merlin, he was beautiful, Draco thought wildly. He bit his lip, now gripped by doubts that maybe it had been a stupid idea after all. "I'm taking you flying." He said, finally, ashamed of how insecure his voice sounded.
Harry beamed. If he had looked beautiful a moment before, now Draco was staring into the sky at dawn, rosey cheeks like clouds at each side of the sun.
"I don't think you have thought this through." Harry chuckled after what felt like their 100th attempt. "Little Evan is obviously too heavy."
"Don't blame him if you can't run!" Draco chided, unraveling the string once again. It was badly knotted in places, but he didn't have the patience. "I thought surely you would have done this before."
"Even if I had, there is just not enough wind. And you have to let it go! I could run for miles but it'd be of no use if you yank it back every single time because you had forgotten to let it go."
"You have to let it go." Draco parroted, moving Doll Harry up and down as if it was the toy that was speaking. "It simply wasn't the time yet." He justified himself.
Harry gave him a look that clearly stated his opinion on the matter. Draco pulled a face in retaliation and soon they were both giggling again, clutching on their bellies.
"One more time?" He offered, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
"One more time." Harry agreed. "You run."
Draco felt the wet sand under his feet and put all the energy he could muster into a sprint, the long string tugging behind him and Harry following in their wake, laughs mingling in the air.
And then, for a moment, the kite took flight, rising higher and higher until the little figurine taped to it was but a tiny dot shaking ferociously in the wind. It was a short victory, though, as they both plummeted down just seconds after, crashing into the sea.
"Well, that was a failure." Draco said, helplessly. Nothing like he had envisioned yet, deep inside, he knew the whole experience had been somewhat better than anything he could have imagined. Harry was still shaking with mirth beside him and he couldn't help the swell of affection that took his breath away.
And then, out of nowhere, Harry's lips were on his. Warm and gentle. Draco stumbled, taking a step backwards before he could even make sense of what was happening, and their mouths parted.
"Thank you." The other boy was saying. He looked flushed, panting a little, but all Draco could do was stare uncomprehendingly at him, feeling deeply unbalanced. His world was tilting, losing edges. His vision blurred a little and he briefly worried, with panic, that he was about to cry.
After their almost-kiss a few days earlier, when Draco had been high on brownies, he had caught Harry watching him intently a few times. They were both too damn proud to talk about it, so nothing had come from it. Draco had convinced himself that hoping anything more would happen between the two of them might be too much, given the circumstances. No need to add an extra layer to his already complicated feelings. The possibility of Harry being the one making a move had never entered his mind, and now he had no idea of what to do.
Harry must have sensed that because his expression started to morph into one of embarrassment. Before he could say anything as dumb as an apology, Draco's instincts took over and their mouths crashed together once more. He wished he had a wall to pin Harry to as they both stagger for balance, Draco releasing all the pent up emotions he had been bottling up onto the other boy's lips.
After a while, Harry forced him to slow the pace. "Hey, calm down." He chuckled breathlessly, their forehead pressed together. They were basically the same height, fitting seamlessly as one. "No need to hurry, there's no war going on. We have all the time in the world."
Draco wanted to scream at the irony. "Shut up, Harry!" He growled, taking the other boy's face between his palms. He went to kiss him again but Harry was pulling away, eyes wide. Only then Draco realised his mistake. He reached out, fumbling for an explanation, trying to latch onto something to stop Harry from leaving. His fingers skimmed over bare skin until they found the leather sting of the owl necklace.
Too little too late, as Harry was already stepping away, and the thin cord snapped. They both looked as it hanged off Draco's outstretched hand, the latter in frozen horror, the Gryffindor wincing.
The air buzzed between them as they opened their mouths simultaneously to speak.
"Listen, I understand if you are still hung up on someone…"
"Shit, no! I can explain… I… please…"
They stopped, Harry trailing off, Draco at loss for words. The truth sounded more far-fetched than anything he could have come up with and what a terrible paradox that was.
"It's okay." Harry said, eventually, looking at his feet. He kicked a pebble and Draco had the mad impression that he was about to apologize.
Instead, he turned around and started climbing the rocks, looking disappointed and lost. It took a split second for Draco to make the decision to run after him, uncaring of what he would say once he had caught up. He just needed Harry to listen, to see the truth he could not speak painted on his eager face.
He called after him, the name Evan sounding wrong as ever in his mouth. The other boy turned anyway, his forgiving heart halting his steps.
Their eyes met and Draco thought that maybe things would be okay after all, that he could still get Harry to resume kissing him like he wanted so badly to. But fate had other plans and Harry lost his footing before Draco could reach him, slipping down the sharp side of one of the rocks.
"Fuck!" He cried, pushing himself up again until he was sitting on top of the very same place he had fallen from. His leg was copiously bleeding from a deep gash on his calf and he looked rather pale.
"Fuck." Draco agreed, pushing the other boy's hand away to better inspect the cut. It looked bad. Harry clutched onto his left forearm, fingers like a vice, but Draco could hardly feel the pain.
Without thinking, he pulled his wand out of his shorts pocket and muttered the first healing charm he could remember. Harry's skin stitched back together, the bleeding stopped.
He took a sigh of relief before meeting Harry's green eyes again. There was shock and weariness in them. However, the more they stared at each other, the more Draco could see hints of recognition.
Fuck, how could he have been so stupid.
He tried to speak, blood pumping in his ears so loudly he felt dizzy from it. No words managed to make it past his lips, though, as a blinding pain spreaded suddenly from his arm, where Harry's fingers were still encircled around it. The other boy repressed magic burnt hot onto the pale skin above his wrist, in the exact same place where he had almost been branded with the Dark Mark the summer before.
Draco watched helplessly as Harry's grip went slack, revealing the angry handprint left behind. Green eyes rolled back into his skull and the other boy lost consciousness, becoming a boneless weight in his arms.
Draco knew he had to act now and yet he wasn't ready. Tears started falling freely as he murmured the spell that Lupin had repeated so many times before. The stream of golden light disappeared at the contact with Harry's forehead as if absorbed. Draco gave one last sob before apparating them back to his own room.
He laid Harry on the bed with a gentleness reserved for a frail thing that could break at any moment. After taking great care to wipe the damp hair that had stuck to the other boy's face, he held onto his hand while Harry fidgeted and shook in his sleep, as one would often do when plagued by nightmares.
And nightmares they were, many of Harry's memories.
He wasn't sure how long he spent there, unmoving, watching the rising and fall of Harry's chest. Reality started to lose meaning after a while, until all he could think of was what next.
What next?
"M- Malfoy?" Harry's voice came, hoarse and confused and out of the blue, startling him out of his daze. By the time he realised who had spoken, Harry had already fallen back asleep, his breathing frantic and shallow.
Draco knew that once awake, things would never be the same again.
