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“Fuck…” Harry muttered to himself. He was draped over the couch, head hanging down with blood rushing to his head. It was the most uncomfortable position possible to distract him from his problem.
Each day Draco didn’t visit felt like torture. Before he wasn’t so mindful of the passing of time, but now he was so keenly aware of it that it hurt.
Ever since their little pizza party, as Harry liked to think of it, he thought Draco would show up every day. After all Harry needed him to. Couldn’t that blond git understand that?
“Dammit!” he said, louder this time. Loud enough to scare his cat off his perch. Harry moved to comfort the animal, but ended up falling to the floor with a noisy thud.
Poor Hedwig the Second had enough of his owner’s antics and stalked off into the bedroom. Harry was too forlorn to follow. It didn’t even seem worth it to get up off the floor.
Really, Harry Potter hated himself. He hated that he was so mopey, but he couldn’t quite seem to get his shit together.
During those few days he spent with Malfoy he could finally see a reason to actually do things even if they were simple muggle things.
He had given up. It was all he could do to reach for the blanket on the sofa and cover himself up with it. Maybe he would have a dreamless sleep for once.
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Every day away from Harry was torture. But Draco couldn’t visit him. Not with his father home. For some reason the elder Malfoy kept a watchful eye on his only son. He couldn’t very well go galavanting off to visit Harry Potter of all people. It never did occur to him to lie.
Draco paced around his room in Malfoy Manor. Deep down he wanted Harry to show up and rescue him for a change, but that was stupid. The other boy could barely leave the house to get food for himself.
It wasn’t apparent how long he paced. He heard his mother call him for dinner and he went down to their dining room. If his parents talked he didn’t hear them. If he ate any food he didn’t remember. He just counted down the days until he could go check on Harry again.
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Harry woke with a terrible headache. He thought he heard Draco say, “Probably from sleeping on the floor you prat.” But he looked and there was no one there. He was alone in his dark flat.
He rolled over and looked into his cat’s eyes; so really he wasn’t alone after all. But Hedwig the Second’s gaze clearly said, “Go and get him.” Or maybe it was “Let me outside.” Probably both.
Not wanting to argue, not even with a cat, Harry got up and started dressing. His jeans were faded and loose and his jumper was tattered and worn, but that was the trademark Harry Potter look. He wouldn’t feel comfortable without it. Plus he was hoping Draco would have something snarky to say about it. God he loved that boy’s sass. It almost matched his own.
Of course he didn’t know exactly where Draco was right now. It could be assumed, he supposed, the blond was at home. At this thought Harry shuddered. He did not have pleasant memories of Malfoy Manor. He also did not know how to get there of his own free will, but Merlin’s beard, he was a wizard and he would get there somehow.
After rummaging in his old school trunk for awhile he found his wand. It didn’t look any different, though it felt different holding it again. He gripped it tightly and was gone, hoping that his first time apparating in awhile wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.
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Draco’s mother had asked him to sit with her in the front parlor this morning. She was quietly sipping tea and reading the newspaper while he stared at his hands feeling numb. He wasn’t sure when his dad would leave next. Lucius was sometimes gone on “goodwill” missions sanctioned by the Ministry to show that he was reformed- for good this time. Draco didn’t mind his father being home, but he felt a bit stifled all the same. This year he took to recharge before deciding on his career was coming to a close. His father wanted answers to how his son would carry on the Malfoy name. He would need to continue to clear it.
All this swimming through his head was too much for the blond boy. “Mother, I’m going to take a walk outside,” he announced. Her eyes widened a bit, but Narcissa nodded. He’d already made his way out the door, though, and didn’t even see her.
The wind tousled his hair as he walked through the long grass in their yard. He approached the tall iron gate and peered out. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but there was a figure coming up the walkway.
Without a second thought he murmured “Alohomora” to unlock the gate (this only worked if a Malfoy said the spell) and ran towards the approaching person. He didn’t know who it was, but he knew who he wanted it to be.
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It was difficult to appear natural as if he was just a local going for a stroll. Harry didn’t want to catch Mr. Malfoy’s attention because then he might not get to see Draco at all. It might have been silly to bring it, but he definitely wished he’d had his invisibility cloak.
Just as this thought passed his mind he was enveloped in a huge hug. Harry gasped as Draco’s arms wrapped around him.
Breathlessly the blond boy asked, “How did you know I needed you?”
It was a simple question, but it said so much to Harry. Draco needed him, too.
“Well I’m really here for selfish reasons so don’t give me too much credit,” Harry replied sheepishly. “Where can we go for a bit of butterbeer or firewhisky?” He had a mischievous glint in his eye as he asked this.
“We have some in the kitchen. It will be fine, though, my parents never go in there. There’s a separate entrance and everything.”
Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well okay. If you say so.”
Suddenly Draco grinned, “Scared, Potter?”
“You wish!”
And with that they were off.