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Harry glanced at his watch.
6:15 AM
Good, now he just had to wait for Mr. Filibuster to-
A clanking sound of metal came from the opposite house as an elderly man opened the heavy iron gates and trudged across his lawn, to a rusty mailbox. He yanked it open, his stubbly arm searching for mail before coming out empty. He trudged back and noisily locked the door.
Harry checked his watch again.
6:19 AM
Perfect.
He would not be disturbed for another hour at the least. It was a very fortunate thing Godric’s Hollow was a sleepy town, exempting a few people like Mr. Filibuster.
6:20 AM
He was wasting time and if he wanted to make maximum use of the limited time, he had better get on the move.
He climbed out of the window of his room, easily balancing himself across the window ledge and then shimmied down the lamppost with practised ease.
He quietly let himself out of the gate bounding the backyard, and made sure to close it behind him. Harry had managed to escape without raising any suspicion for nearly two weeks now, and he definitely didn’t want to mess up now.
He made his way down the empty streets, twisting across the alleys, and finally stopping after a good 15 minute walk.
His destination had not been reached yet, but he had to make a short pitstop on the way.
Harry had reached the rich sector of the town, a part he had scantily visited prior to his morning journeys.
Before him loomed a vast estate, covered with extensive gardens and a mansion in the middle. Malfoy Manor. Owned by the wealthiest family in Godric’s Hollow- the Malfoys.
The Malfoys were well-known for their granite quarries which they used to manufacture ornamental sculptures and architectural monuments. If it hadn’t been for their fame- that extended all over the country, Harry was sure no one would ever have known a town called Godric’s Hollow ever existed.
Although the Manor was big enough to host at least half of the town, there were only three occupants at the moment- Lucius, Narcissa and their only son Draco Malfoy.
Harry had never seen the elder Malfoys in person, however he had seen Draco around in school. Godric’s Hollow, with its small population, had only one school- Hogwarts. He had only caught glimpse of Draco very rarely, even though they were in the same year.
If anyone had told him earlier he would be sneaking into Malfoy Manor at twilight hours, he would have snorted in their face. But that was before he had caught sight of the captivating interior.
The garden was filled with sculptures and fancy benches, all hinting at extravagance and wealth. Apparently, in the earlier days, Malfoy Manor used to be one of the few ‘tourist’ places in the small town but that stopped when someone accidentally shattered an entire fountain.
He set his foot on a loose brick in the wall and swung himself over the gate in an agile motion. Anyone would have thought the Malfoys, for all their wealth and grandeur, would have at least made the gates taller or even posted a security guard.
He landed on the mossy ground with a muffled thud.
Harry crept around the manor, skipping all the fancy chiselled forms and turning towards the back where his favourite part laid. This part of the Manor was not as well-known, obscured by the granite structures.
It was a white rose garden. Thorns and stems covered every available surface, as they twisted upon the benches and the manor walls. In the middle of the greenery, white spots jutted out, enhancing the entire picture.
The white roses, each flower vibrant and dotted with morning dew, drew Harry closer. He just needed one, and then he would leave.
He edged closer, his eyes darting from left to right making sure no one was watching.
One particularly large and luscious rose, its petals gleaming, had caught his eye but he knew better than to steal that one. Taking a smaller and unremarkable rose, would be less conspicuous.
He quickly plucked another one and stuck it into his pocket, minding the sharp thorns. He turned around, ready to get away when he heard a low whistle.
Harry froze. He had surely been caught. He slowed turned his head both ways, but to his surprise there was no one in sight. Maybe it was just a bird?
Puzzled, he started to turn back towards the gates when he heard that low whistle again. It seemed to be coming from…...above?
Harry tilted his head back and let out a loud gasp of shock as his eyes fell upon the lowest balcony of the Malfoy Manor.
Leaning elegantly against the balcony railing, a figure so pale Harry could have mistaken it as one of the sculptures, waved lazily at him.
Draco Malfoy.
There was no mistaking it; even from the distance, the sharp cheekbones, chiselled jaw and aristocratic clothes were clearly visible.
Harry had completely frozen up. He had just been caught stealing from the Malfoys. Harry, one of the rather poorer sections, had been caught stealing from the richest family in town. If Draco’s parents came to know, he was done. Not only his name, but his family’s name would be blotted once the news came out.
Was it possible Draco had not recognized who he was? It certainly was possible, after all, he was just an ordinary middle class person and there was no way Draco Malfoy could actually know who he was.
In a motion too fast for Harry’s eyes to follow, Draco sprang himself off the balcony, landing lithely on the ground.
With a quick dusting of his clothes, even though there was nothing stuck to it, the young Malfoy sauntered towards Harry.
He couldn't let Draco get a good look at his face. He turned heel and took off as fast as could, racing towards the gate madly. He just had to get past the gates and then he would be free.
Behind him, the sound of cursing then fast footfall could be heard.
He speedened his pace, hoisting himself up and over the gates and landed hard on his feet. He continued running, not looking back once.
Only once he was at least three blocks away, did he stop to catch his breath. Straining his ears to catch any sounds of his pursuer, he leaned against the wall. There were no sounds from behind him.
He felt his pocket. The rose was still pristine and undamaged.
He pushed himself off the wall, still debating whether the left or right route was faster when a figure sharply veered around the corner and crashed into him, sending him to the ground.
He groaned as the person landed heavily on top of him too. The faint rays of light illuminated platinum blond locks that could belong to none other than Malfoy.
He wiggled wildly, attempting to escape from Draco’s hold, which was maddeningly firm. He fought against the rising blush on his face at the position he was in that must look compromising to an onlooker.
“Stop writhing like a worm Potter,” Draco said, sounding irked. “I'm not going to do anything.” There went his chance of escape. If Draco knew his name, anonymity was lost.
“Let me go!” Harry hissed. He yanked his hands out of Draco’s hold and tried to push himself upright. But Draco wasn't having any of that- he firmly sat atop Harry, his hands holding down his wrists. If it even were possible, Harry’s cheeks turned even redder.
“I won’t tell anyone about what I saw, Potter, I promise. Now stop wiggling, you're wrinkling my clothes.”
“You won’t tell anyone?” Harry asked skeptically. He didn't know Malfoy too well but he was sure a thief entering someone’s house to steal was a matter to be taken to their parents at the least.
Draco rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Yes, I already said that Potter.”
Draco got off him, and held a hand out.
Harry stared at it dumbly. When he didn't move Draco leaned down and pulled Harry up himself.
“Wha- oof!” Harry yelped, stumbling forward. “What was that for?”
Draco smirked. “If you think I'm gonna let you go without any consequence you’re sorely mistaken.”
“But you just said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” Harry exclaimed indignantly.
Draco’s smirk widened. “I’ll make a deal. If you tell me who those roses are for, I’ll let you go.”
Harry’s expression changed to confusion. “What do you mean who are they for?”
Draco let out a short laugh as if the whole conversation was pettily amusing to him. “I wouldn't have taken you to be a romantic but I guess you’ve got some flair, considering you broke into my house to get flowers instead of just buying them. Who’s the lucky girl Potter?”
Colour stained Harry’s cheeks as he stuttered, “There is no gir-”
“A boy then.” Malfoy said slyly.
Harry reddened even more. His face was destined to look like a tomato in front of Draco. “It's not for anyone!”
“Then where were you going now?” Draco retorted back.
“Nowhere! Just making my way home.”
“You’re heading towards the poor section. I’d known you were poor but not that much.”
“Shut up Ma-”
“So your fabled lover is poor. No wonder you’re visiting them before daylight. I’d be ashamed too.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being poor, Malfoy. Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth like you!”
Draco’s eyes glinted. “So you admit to be dating someone in the poorer section. In that case, lead the way Potter; I’d really like to know who this person is.”
Now it really was beginning to get on Harry’s nerves. He had come out in the hopes of peace and quiet and this certainly wasn't it.
“How many times must I tell you there isn't anyone- You know what? Come with me. I’ll show you who the someone special is.”
Harry marched away, not bothering to check if Draco was coming. For a moment, there were no footsteps and it seemed Draco wouldn’t follow him. But then Draco was beside him. “Took you long enough,” Draco said though his tone held a hint of discomfiture.
Did it confuse him that Harry had given in? ‘Good’ Harry thought to himself. ‘It would really do good if the imbecile was confused for once.’
He weaved his way downtown, neither he nor Draco speaking to each other. He passed the baker's place, the construction site for the new hospital and also the tiny cramped houses marking the impoverished territory. They were beginning to venture into the area that people rarely visited. There were very few houses here.
“Uh, Harry” Draco began, “Are you sure we haven't missed it?”
Harry gritted his teeth. “Yes I’m very sure,” he said in clipped tones.
Malfoy smartly refrained from further comment.
Finally, Harry stopped before gates. The gates were tall and looming like the ones at Malfoy Manor but that was where the similarities ended. These were metal, twisted like gnarled bones, rusted and broken and half unhinged. A plaque was lying on the ground nearby engraved with the words ‘Godric’s Hollow Cemetery’.
“Where are we?” Draco’s eyes darted all around the place. His eyes fell upon the plaque on the ground.
“Oh,” was all he uttered softly.
Harry knew he had finally put the story together. On 31 October 1981, the serial killer Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort, had broken into the Potter Manor and murdered both James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents. James and Lily were both well liked by the entire community and their death had hit everyone hard.
Harry would visit their graves every Halloween but recently he had taken to coming everyday. It really was very lonely in the house and this was his escape. He hadn’t intended to steal the roses at first but once he had spotted them at the Manor he knew they would be perfect.
“Are you happy now?” Harry asked, his tone deadly. “You finally know who this ‘lover’ is.”
Draco seemed unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn't realise.”
“You can go now, the entertainment is over,” Harry knew he was sounding like a total bastard but his sacred time had been taken over by a real bastard. If Malfoy had just left him alone, like he had the previous days, none of this would have started in the first place.
“I’m really sorry,” Draco said again, sounding so forlorn that Harry couldn't get himself to say something biting in return.
He pushed open the rusty gates which emitted an abused screech. The cemetery was buried in browning leaves, clearly unkempt. Headstones of many sizes peeped out, reflecting the morning rays.
Harry made forward, his boots crunching the leaves. He stopped ten aisles down, and knelt next to a large white marble tombstone. The headstone bore the words ‘In loving memory of James and Lily Potter’.
Harry sat down cross-legged before the grave.
He waited for Draco to make some derogatory comment but none came. Draco was standing a few aisles away from him, keeping his distance. That was decent of him, Harry supposed.
“Hi Mum, hi Dad,” he said, in a light cheerful tone, “I came to see you guys again just like I said I would. Look, I even brought you another rose.”
He delicately placed the rose in front of him.
“It really is lonely at home. I wish you guys were there with me. School’s starting next week so I don’t know if I can visit then. I’ll be able to meet Ron and Hermione again. You probably remember them; I told you the day before yesterday.”
He brushed his hair out of face. “Everyone at school keeps telling me how much I look just like you Dad, except the eyes. And that I have the personality of you, Mum.”
He let out a short laugh, “Make sure you add that to the never ending list of reasons why you shouldn't attend the same school as your parents.”
He continued, sombering up. “They also say other stuff you know. People tell me how proud of me you would have been if you were here.”
His eyes blazing, he plowed on. “But I would never really know, would I? Because you had to conveniently die when I was one year old. I don’t even remember how you guys look in real life! Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to listen to people go on about their happy complete families?”
He paused just to take a breath, “How about parent teacher meetings? Do you know what it’s like to be the only one there with no one for you?”
His hands trembled with rage. It had never gone this far before. Maybe it was Malfoy’s fault, but Harry really had enough of penting up his anger and pretending it was alright when it wasn't. All the memories other people had- of their parents kissing them goodnight, wiping their tears off, playing with them- he didn’t. He shouldn't be expected to simply visit their graves everyday and pretend as though that made up for spending 15 years without them.
He felt rage course through him- at Malfoy, at his parents, at everyone. Harry stood up abruptly, fists clenched at his sides. His voice of rationality turned inaudible as the fury clouded his brain. He had never been one for ‘anger management’ and he usually tended to get a tad bit violent.
He pulled his leg back, aiming to kick something. He flung his leg out at the nearest thing available, his parents headstone. He brought it back and kicked it again and again and again unseeingly.
A short gasp came from behind him and the next second he was engulfed in arms that were dragging him away.
“Let go of me!” he screamed, kicking and punching the person holding him- Draco.
“Calm down,” Draco said softly but firmly. “Nothing you are doing now will change the fact that they are gone.”
Harry’s eyes widened as though he had just realised what he was doing. His eyes lingered blankly on the headstone now marked with dirt and footmarks and the crushed rose that lay afoot it.
And just like that the rage dissipated leaving only the hollowness.
“What have I done?” he whispered, horrified.
He jerked himself away from Malfoy, stumbling forward. His legs gave away and he dropped to his knees in front of the headstone. His hands blindly swabbed at the headstone, trying to rid the dirt. “I’m sorry,” he cried over and over again, his hands shaking as he held the deformed rose.
He crumpled upon himself, tears now running freely down his face and cascading onto the white rose. It was his gift to them, a daily token of his love and he had damaged it.
His hand wrapped around the flower, its thorns pricking his palm as blood streamed all over his hands.
“Harry,” Draco was kneeling right next to him. Harry wanted to tell him his knees were muddy. “Can you remove your hand from the flower?”
His entire hand was now tinged red, droplets of blood staining his clothes. He slowly unclenched his fingers, one at a time. The rose fell out his palm.
Draco withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket. Harry nearly let out a hysterical laugh. Only Draco Malfoy would carry a handkerchief around everywhere. He efficiently binded Harry’s injured hand with the cloth.
“Thank you,” Harry said, his voice thick. He took a long minute to try to inconspicuously get rid of the wetness on his face before continuing. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. You couldn’t have known.”
Draco fidgeted at the cuff of his shirt as he replied, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have forced you to take me with you.”
Harry let a wet laugh escape him. “We’re both idiots.”
“I can’t agree more.” A small smile played on Draco’s lips.
A thought crossed Harry’s mind. He tilted his head in question, “How do you know me? You’ve probably never even seen me before now; how did you recognise me back in the alley?”
To his surprise, Draco blushed at the question. “I- I may have been keeping an eye on you ever since I saw you on the first day. You did leave a rather memorable impression after the soccer game we had together.”
Harry had attended only one lesson with the rich- soccer. On the first day, the posh teacher for the rich had been absent, and so the rich kids were made to attend the class with the middle class kids. The coach Madam Hooch had arranged for a casual versus game.
Harry had always had a natural aptitude for soccer; apparently his father had had it too.
The rich had been hoping for an easy victory but their hopes were dashed as Harry shot goal after goal, not missing a single one.
“That happened like four years ago! You still remember?”
“What can I say, you're very memorable.” Draco tried to sound offhand but failed miserably.
Harry felt a wave of fondness rush over him. Without thinking he wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Draco froze, completely motionless for a second before returning the hug. “Thank you for everything,” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear.
For everything- for stopping him from defacing his parent’s graves, for not making fun of him for crying, for actually comforting and mainly for his company.
Draco merely squeezed his shoulders gently, actions speaking louder than words ever could. Harry relaxed into the other boy, his heartbeat somehow the loudest sound he could hear. They stayed in the same position for a while, Harry’s head fitting perfectly in the crook of Draco’s neck and Draco awkwardly resting his hands on the middle of Harry’s back. It was definitely the most blissful Harry had been in a while.
In the distance, the faint sound of a church clock tolling could be heard. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven tolls before it silenced. Wait, was it already 7 o’clock?
Harry abruptly pulled away, panic overtaking him. “I- I have to go.” he stuttered as he staggered towards the gates, the dazed face of Draco Malfoy being the last thing he saw before he broke into a sprint, racing at top speed back to his house.
Everyone must have woken up by now; someone would have noticed his absence. He skidded to a stop in front of his house just as the old woman next door stepped out to visit the butcher. Luckily for him, she didn’t glance his way.
Letting out a breath of relief, he climbed up the pole and landed heavily in his bedroom. He paused for a second, listening for any sounds from the other residents of the house. Hearing none, Harry let out another breath of relief.
He plopped himself ungracefully on the bed, a soppy smile playing on his lips. Even though the day hadn't started all that well, Draco certainly did make it better.
Harry glanced at his injured hand still wrapped in Draco’s handkerchief. He felt bad for the hasty retreat he had beaten, and how Draco must be so perplexed right now at his Cinderella act. He brought his wounded hand near his nose; it smelled of blood but underneath there was also a hint of Draco- cedar wood and expensive cologne. His eyes shut and he fell asleep, the soppy smile still plastered on his face.
Harry woke up, more good-natured than he had felt in days. He’d had a pleasant and rather elaborate dream involving white roses, a cemetery and one pretty boy. If only he had such interesting dreams everyday.
Yawning widely, Harry padded across the room to open the blinds only to stop midway. On his desk table, in between his alarm clock and his Hogwarts textbooks, lay innocently a white rose. Harry rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
The rose was still there, glimmering in the sunlight.
So that wasn’t a dream then! He, Harry Potter had been caught stealing by Draco Malfoy, who then accompanied him to the cemetery and also hugged him when he cried over his dead parents!
Harry lifted his hands- one was still bandaged in a handkerchief. It certainly hadn't been a dream then.
The rose on his desk was the largest, most alluring one he had ever seen, the one that Harry had been eyeing for weeks in the Manor. The fact that Draco cared enough to send the prettiest flower in his garden to Harry was almost incomprehensible.
Harry picked the rose up with trembling fingers, as though he was afraid it would vanish any moment. As he picked it up, a small scroll of paper fell out. Harry opened it curiously. The only thing written were the letters D.M in an elegant cursive style. Draco Malfoy.
Harry grinned like a nutter as he carefully folded the note and stuck it into a special drawer in his cupboard, where he kept treasured items. Draco must have come when he had been sleeping. For some reason, the thought of Draco evading all the neighbours’ peering eyes and showing up, just to leave him a rose warmed his heart.
The next day, Harry’s routine was still the same-
wake up, make sure the coast is clear, escape the house, reach the rich sector, enter Malfoy Manor…
But now his pitstop at Malfoy Manor had turned into a final destination. Harry made his way through the sculptures and was soon rewarded with a short whistle. Harry looked up at the charming figure of Draco Malfoy.
“Jump down!” Harry gestured, his heart thudding in his chest from exhilaration.
Malfoy landed with a soft thud, his boots making no noise as he approached Harry. Unlike yesterday’s expedition in pyjamas, today Malfoy was wearing tightly fitting trousers and a fancy shirt, looking very much like he had wandered off the cover of a magazine.
“Hi,” Harry said. His face was flushed, just like it always was when it came to Malfoy.
Draco gave him an easy smile, “Ready to go Potter?”
“Actually no,” Harry said, tilting his head to assess Draco’s reaction. “I had other plans.”
“Oh really? What do you want to do?” Draco looked surprised but pleasantly so.
“I’m not visiting them.” Both of them knew ‘them’ meant Harry’s parents. “I don’t want to spend my life lamenting about what I don’t have and instead focus on what I have . And right now I’ve got you.”
The look Draco was giving him, of entrapturation was enough to tell him he had made the right decision.
A bout of confidence surged through Harry and he reached towards Draco and laced his fingers through Draco’s. “Thank you for the rose.”
Draco stared down at his hand, definitely astonished, before curling his fingers, intertwining their hands. “Nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
And Harry believed him. Together they walked into the future.