Saving Myself || A Drarry Story

LI: Harry's Dream

It was the day of Nathalie's funeral, a sombre and, in Harry's young mind, slow event. It had taken ages for the casket to be lowered, with his mother's wails and his own grisly mood. The progression had arrived at the Manor, where relatives and family friends gave their condolences to Mr and Mrs Potter, ruffling Harry's midnight hair as if to say This one is too young to understand what happened. He must think his sister is sleeping, the poor thing.

As he sat on the stairs---the very same stairs that Nathalie had fallen down after a rather unfortunate event that was put off as 'a bump in the carpet'---Harry wanted to go up to his room and read his latest adventure book. He didn't like the hustle and bustle of this ordeal and he certainly didn't want to hear his mother's cries.

He could hear his father saying quietly to a man with red hair, "This is horrible. My child. Dead."

I'm your child, too, Harry thought viciously, glaring at the spot where he remembered Nathalie hitting her head the hardest. Now I'm your only child. Ha, that counts for something, doesn't it?

Harry wasn't sure if he imagined it at the time, but he heard a whisper, a whisper that made his heart stop.

"I forgive you, " it said, the voice sounding a lot like Nathalie. "I forgive you, Harry."

Harry shook his head, turning to face the door, where a handsome man with long hair and a small beard and a young boy about Harry's age walked in, both wearing black dress robes. Harry watched as the small boy fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable with his attire.

The boy saw Harry looking, his eyes large and his very blonde hair just the right amount of haphazardly combed, a cowlick making a bit of hair stick straight up near the back. He smiled at Harry, tugging on the man's sleeve, pointing in his direction.

The man nodded, watching the boy go as he himself made his way to where his mother sat, ignoring James Potter's famous scowl.

"Hello, " the blonde boy said to him, holding his hand out for a shake. Harry didn't look at it and he pulled his hand away. "My name's Draco. Draco Malfoy."

Harry knew that name. He was the one father ranted about, the one who vanquished the Dark Lord seven years ago.

"Potter, " Harry nodded. "Harry Potter."

Draco nodded as well, his hand travelling to the cowlick and Harry found himself wanting to cut it off with scissors. "I live in London."

"I live here, " Harry said.

"I'm sorry about your sister, "

Harry shrugged, getting a bit annoyed with the blonde boy---Draco Malfoy. He didn't like him much, waltzing into his home and having his father glaring at him, knowing that he would be chastised when the guests left.

"I'm eight, " Draco told him.

"I don't care, " Harry said dismissively, waving his hand and starting to walk up the stairs when he heard Draco ask, "Are you always a prat?"

Harry stopped and turned around, his face set in a scowl that would make his father proud and his mother fuss over how he was going to ruin his pretty little face.

"What did you call me?" Harry asked in a dangerous tone for an eight-year-old. "Say it again."

Draco narrowed his eyes and repeated his statement, a sharp breath leaving him as Harry shoved him to the ground, making everybody look at the two.

"Don't call me that, " Harry spat at him and Draco's eyes widened. Harry noticed that they were a pleasant grey with a touch of blue. He wanted very badly to take a longer, more detailed look but the blonde boy scrambled away, retreating to the man's side, tears threatening to fall. Harry went up to his room, hoping to never see Draco Malfoy again.

וווווווווווווו×

Harry opened his eyes, seeing no light spill from the window. He turned his head, seeing Draco sleeping next to him, snoring a bit.

With a shiver, he huddled closer to Draco, his arms tightening around the smaller boy as he continued to sleep. Harry sighed, taking in Draco's cologne and clutching the front of his shirt softly.

Draco opened his eyes slowly and moved his arm, rubbing his eye and asked him groggily, "What time izzit?"

"Dunno, " Harry replied, leaning over and checking the clock. "Almost one."

Draco groaned and asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah, why?" Harry asked.

Draco's grey eyes flitted away before saying, "I don't know. I thought I felt you holding onto me. My mistake, sorry."

Harry said, "No, I was. I didn't think it would wake you, "

Draco made a tired grunting sound, turning onto his side and made Harry almost rolling under him as he moved. "I thought something was wrong, " Draco said, softly wrapping him in his arms again.

Harry swallowed and wondered if he ever thought of that day at his sisters funeral where they first met. He hoped that Draco didn't remember that.

Swallowing his pride, Harry pressed himself against Draco, loving the way Draco wrapped his leg around him, the feeling of being weighed down. With his hand, he tugged at the blanket. Draco stuck his tongue out and Harry nipped at it, causing Draco to grin and push Harry's face away with a laugh.

"You're amazing, "

Harry grinned, "So are you, "

With a content sigh, Draco laid his head down, kissing Harry's forehead softly and telling him, "Get some sleep, alright?"

"Alright, " Harry told him, pulling the blanket to his chin and smiling when Draco pulled him close. "Mmm, love you."

"I love you too, Harry."

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