Chapter Text
Walk 1 – Yarmouth and Freshwater: The first part of this route is flat, with a surface to suit all users, except for a small uneven section near the middle.
"Think it's a good day to die? No? Then come away from there! I've got enough worry with the children running about. Get off that rail, lad. Back away."
Draco climbed off the metal bar and retrieved his pack from the deck of the ferry. He flashed a smile at the crewman. "Been awhile since I've been called a lad."
"Been a while since I've had to talk an adult off the rail."
Draco shouldered his pack. "Fair enough." He glanced out over the water, squinting at the island in the distance. "How long until we arrive at Yarmouth?"
"Another half hour or so. Try to stay out of trouble." A group of children ran past, scampering between them and disappearing around a metal stairway. A moment later, someone screamed, delightful laughter followed, and the crewman turned his back on Draco, muttering obscenities under his breath.
Wisely, Draco held his amusement in check until he was once again alone. A light spray rained down as the boat cut through the gentle waves. It dampened his jacket and stung his eyes. Many of the other passengers had moved to the stern or taken shelter in their cars, but Draco had remained at the bow, perched on the rail, relishing the salty air.
"Are you going home?"
Draco looked down. One of the children from earlier, a young boy, stood beside him. Grubby hands on hips, he peered up at Draco through his fringe.
"Why do you ask?" Draco turned from the rail and crossed his arms over his chest.
The gesture failed to intimidate. "Cause you've got no bags."
"Maybe they're in my car."
"You don't have a car. I saw you come aboard. All you've got is that." The boy pointed at Draco's pack.
"So I do," Draco said with a half-smile. "No, I'm not going home. I'm just visiting."
"Won't get far with that," the boy said, once more jabbing his finger at the pack on Draco's back.
Draco snorted. "You might be surprised." He leant down and crooked a finger, daring the boy closer. "Maybe it's a magic bag."
The boy's eyes went saucer-wide. "Really?"
Draco straightened. "Would I lie?"
"I dunno. I've never met you before."
Draco chuckled. "True enough. But as it turns out, I don't ever lie. Not anymore. So you see, it is a magic bag."
The boy glanced around before leaning in. "What's in it?"
Draco shrugged. "Everything I own."
The boy swiped a hand under his nose and took another surreptitious peek at the bag, noting how the sides sagged inward. His eyes traveled over Draco's clothes, currently damp and disheveled, even if impeccably cut. "You must be pretty poor."
"I suppose some might say that," Draco answered in a low voice. "But I don't think so."
The boy pushed his hair out of his eyes. "I saw you sitting on the rail earlier."
Draco arched an eyebrow.
"Why were you doing that? It's not safe."
The ferry lurched and they both reached to steady themselves on the rail. The boy nodded, convinced of his wisdom. "See?"
Draco took a deep breath and let it out. He pursed his lips. "I suppose I wanted to see what it was like."
Another swipe under the nose and a quick glance over the rail. "You must be daft."
Draco laughed outright. "I must be," he agreed.
"Matthew!"
A young, harried looking woman rushed toward them. "Where have you been?" She took a firm grip of the boy's arm and turned to Draco. "I apologize. He knows better than to run off."
And talk to strangers, Draco finished silently. He wondered if she'd seen his acrobatics on the rail. The way she pulled the boy away and pushed him behind her hinted that she had.
"No harm done," Draco said. "We were just talking."
"Yes. Well, good day." Without another word, she spun and walked off, tugging a reluctant Matthew behind.
"But I want to see what's in the magic bag," he heard Matthew whine.
"Hush!"
Draco sighed and looked back out over the water, noting how the island now loomed ahead. He hefted his pack higher and slipped his other arm through the strap. Matthew would've been disappointed had Draco given him a peek inside. It carried little that most Muggles would recognize: his wand, a jumper, and several small, marble-sized trunks.
The sum total of his earthly possessions. As he'd said.
He spent the remainder of the trip alone. In the hustle and bustle of disembarkation, Draco found the crewman he'd spoken to earlier and pulled him aside. "How far's town? Walkable?"
The crewman shrugged. "Sure. But most everyone takes the bus."
"I'm sure most everyone does," Draco said, not commenting further.
The other pedestrians rushed to board the waiting buses, pushing and shoving as much as decorum would allow. Draco passed by without a second glance. Keeping a casual pace, he reached the outskirts of Yarmouth in less than ten minutes.
Leery of the larger, tourist-packed areas, he chose a tidy shop off the main avenue for the few supplies he wanted. His current financial situation allowed for more, but shopping for one meal at a time was habit.
After gathering a variety of snacks and a drink, he carried them to the front counter, juggling the crisps in one hand and the coke in the other. The sight of privacy wards shimmering around a nearby door was a welcome one. Apparently, he'd stumbled upon a Wizarding shop. Luck was on his side, for once.
He pushed his Coke and crisps forward. "Got a map of Apparition points for the island?" he asked the shopkeeper.
The man, all dark good looks and open eyes, gave Draco a thorough once-over. "Sure. First time visiting?"
"Mmmm," Draco replied, noncommittal. Despite his faded jeans and dark t-shirt, he wasn't shocked by the blatant appreciative perusal. He knew his mix of aristocratic and scruffy attracted a certain sort.
He took the rolled parchment when the other man handed it over, and didn't even try to disguise the brush of fingers for anything but what it was. Uncomplicated intimacy was always welcome. "I didn't expect to find any Wizarding shops so easily," he said.
The other man shrugged. "You got lucky. This is the only one in town. My family owns one in most of the larger villages." He held out his hand. "I'm Jon."
Draco smirked as his earlier caress was returned. "I'm—"
"Malfoy!"
Draco spun around.
"Potter," he said after the shock had worn off and his voice had returned. He cleared his throat. "This is unexpected."
Harry recovered less quickly. "Yes," he said. He glanced over Draco's shoulder at Jon.
"He's here for an Apparition map," Jon said.
"Is that all?" Harry's gaze settled on Draco again.
Draco fought the urge to smile.
"That's all," he said, meeting Harry's eyes. Again, nothing but truth. The sight of Harry Potter no longer made him itch to grab his wand. He'd left that grudge behind years ago.
Harry's gaze slid back to Jon and something passed between them – Draco couldn't be sure of what. Visibly wary, Harry walked over and leant against the counter. "On holiday?"
Draco lost the battle against his grin. "In a manner of speaking." He worked his jaw back and forth. "You?"
"I live here."
"Ahh." Draco hoisted his pack higher on his shoulder. "Know any good places to stay?"
Jon opened his mouth to answer, but Harry cut him off. "The island's full of them. Take your pick."
Jon closed his mouth, though he looked at Harry curiously.
"Yes. I'm aware of that. I was more curious as to the whereabouts of a quiet Wizarding establishment. Certainly, being a resident, you would know of such a place."
Harry perused Draco's attire. "Traveling on a budget?"
Draco squelched the flash of embarrassment before it reached his eyes. "You might say that," he replied. "Though I'm far from destitute."
"Why not stay with Harry, then? He runs a B&B." Jon said. "He gets his share of Muggles, but plenty of Wizards too. And he's completely empty at the moment."
Harry shot Jon an exasperated look.
Draco pretended not to see the exchange. "I'd like that. If you don't mind my type, that is," he added. He made a show of dusting off his clothing.
To his credit, Harry looked mortified. "I—I didn't mean to imply you were… that you couldn't…."
"It's okay." Draco stuck the folded parchment into the back pocket of his jeans. "You won't find me underfoot much. I plan on doing the pub walks while I'm here." He nodded at Jon. "That's what the Apparition map is for."
Harry appeared to be wrestling with himself. "How long do you anticipate staying?"
"A week, maybe more." Draco shrugged. "Until I've finished the walks."
Jon's eyes widened. "All of them? It's the same thing over and over. Same buildings. Same woods. Same fields. Same farms."
"Ostensibly. But if they were exactly the same," Draco found his gaze wandering back to Harry, "what would be the point of maintaining them? They must each offer something unique."
Harry sighed. "Is that what you're looking for? Something unique?" His voice carried genuine curiosity.
"I'm not looking for anything. I already have everything I need."
Jon snorted. "Lucky you," he said.
Draco nodded his agreement, and Jon smiled. Draco returned it, but not without a bit of nervousness. He hadn't missed the interplay between Harry and the store clerk. Strangely, Harry didn't seem to notice anything was amiss. Or, Draco thought, he didn't care. Arms folded over his chest, feet crossed at the ankle, he chewed over Draco's last words.
He still radiated power. Ten years hadn't changed that.
Draco watched him for a moment before turning to Jon. He gestured to the few items on the counter. "So, what are the chances you take Galleons? I'm short on Muggle currency."
"I'll make an exception for you." Jon winked.
Draco kept his expression neutral as he handed over the required amount. "Thanks." He turned to Harry. "Well? Is that offer for lodging still on the table?"
After a long pause, Harry answered. "It is." He nodded at Jon. "See you later."
Harry walked past Draco, motioning with a tilt of his head for Draco to follow. He didn't speak, and Draco respected the silence. He followed where Harry led, past the market's meager supply of canned goods, breads and cereals, then around a corner and past paper products and pet food.
A few more steps brought them to a door, which Draco assumed was the store's office. Harry stepped inside and gestured for Draco to follow.
"I want you to know I've put a lot of the past behind me," Harry said when they were both inside. "But that doesn't mean I want you for a friend. You can stay at the house. I'll even give you a good rate. But, and this is in everyone's best interest, stay away from me."
The few seconds it took Draco to process the warning were enough for Harry to grab his arm and Apparate them away.
They appeared on a circular drive in front of a large stone house. Ivy covered one side of the structure, dripping over windowsills and creeping along iron balconies. Draco wouldn't have called the dwelling palatial, though he knew it was large by normal standards.
It was miniscule compared to the Manor. On the other hand, it was easily ten times bigger than his last three flats combined. "Very nice," he said. "How many bedrooms?"
"Eight in total. Four for guests. All en-suite."
"Impressive. Tranquil." He turned to Harry. "I like it."
Harry nodded. "So do I." He started toward the front door and Draco scrambled to follow.
"Where are we, anyway?"
"Outside Shorwell."
Draco shrugged. The geography of the island was still unfamiliar to him. "So, what's it called?" he asked. "I mean, don't all these B&B's have names of some sort? Copperfield Lodge. Wisteria House. Paradise by the Sea, perhaps?" He chuckled.
"Sanctuary."
Draco swallowed his laughter. "What?"
"Sanctuary." Harry reached the front of the house. He turned the knob and pushed the door inward. A warm waft of air, smelling of cinnamon and sugar, assaulted Draco. "I call it Sanctuary," Harry told him.