445Chapter 6: A Change of Mind
The Boy Who Loved
By
Belle. A. Lestrange
Chapter Six: A Change of Mind
Harry towel-dried his hair with one hand and winced at the thought of changing his bandages. It was a whole week since he had arrived back home from the hospital. Vernon was still at a business trip. Petunia was out for the day with Dudley taking him to a mini-boxing championship. Harry had stated that there was no way in Hell that he would attend. He managed to have a chance to relax, watch bad television and have a long relaxing bath. It was just what he had needed. His sling was on the bed and once his hair was semi-dry he began his exercises to flex and release his arm muscles so they would not seize up with lack of use. It was mildly painful, a dull throb if nothing else, but as his body was still lined with vicious scratches and he still had to endure the insufferable contact lenses, he definitely knew he had felt better. He had managed to do an odd few hours at work, he needed the money, but it was only stacking shelves, which he good luckily do with only one good arm. Eric was supportive enough, but Harry could tell that he was being subdued in return. Something was off with him, he could feel it, but he did not know what it was.
The blonde boy was still hovering around and since it had been just over a week Harry had come to the conclusion that the blonde, was in fact, homeless with absolutely nowhere to go. There was a part of him that felt that maybe he should help out but there was another part of him that knew there was no way that he could do that. And there was one lovely word that summed it up. Vernon.
Once his exercises were done and he had managed re-doing his bandages before slipping his sling on over his shoulder and resting his arm within it. It felt good to finally relax it, though the position of his arm was irksome. He wondered what he would do for the rest of the day, his mind often wondering back to the blonde basking in the wonderful warmth outside, and he had to admit, spending the day doing nothing but possibly talking in a playground, seemed like a tempting idea. He shifted awkwardly in his khaki's and plain tee shirt. He sighed and rubbed around his eyes, trying to rid it of the irritable feeling. He had spoken to the blonde on and off, a passing chat almost every evening, nothing too long or too in-depth. But it was nice, that was what really frightened Harry.
It was welcoming.
"I suppose a chat would not hurt –he must get really bored," Harry murmured as he toed his shoes on, his body working a few steps ahead of his mind. He was out of the door before he could doublethink anything.
Draco was lying on his back in the dry prickly grass, soaking up the sun with his hoodie flung over his eyes. He did not care about his arms getting a little pink but his face, he would not be able to live with a pink face. It would clash with his hair. He was humming to himself, thinking about nothing in particular when something barred the heat from the sun from his body. He frowned into the softness of the hoodie and shifted awkwardly. He sighed wearily and pulled the hoodie away from his eyes and squinted up at the shadow that was now looming over him, a sharp contrast to the sunlight shining around him. "Who's that?" Draco asked in a stiff tone, wary of this stranger looming over him at such close proximity.
There was a pause.
"It's me" came the uncertain voice, almost as wary as Draco felt himself.
Draco raised a hand to shield his eyes and tilted his head to one side and looked up at the stranger. He could not help but smile slightly at the familiar messy black hair. "Hello stranger, what brings you out here in daylight hours?"
He listened to the dark-haired teen chuckled weakly, "I didn't have anything to do and … I thought you could use some company"
"Why would you think that?" His tone was sharp. He had not meant it to be. He watched the other boy shift awkwardly.
"I just assumed –all day and night with nothing to do gets tedious –believe me I know"
Draco propped himself up on his elbows, still squinting in the sunlight, and patted the dry grass beside him, "sit down, knowing you you'll fall on top of me soon"
The teen laughed out loud this time, and Draco found the laughter somewhat contagious. He quirked a smirk as he reclined back onto the ground, the shuffling of disturbed grass rustling in his ears as the smaller boy shifted down to one knee, then two, then finally rolled onto his back beside Draco. They lay side-by-side neither feeling the urge to talk and neither really knowing what they could possibly say to the other boy. Harry could not divulge his personal life as that consisted of working, writing, and abuse from his family. Draco could not talk about anything from his life, as it was all related to the one thing that he could not talk to muggles about –magic. The silence was comforting to the both of them however, and both relished in it. The distant sound of traffic hummed in the background and the laughter of the children playing in the playground a little way away, where they had first met, was the only sounds that could be heard.
Draco felt his lips twitch and then turned his head to one side to look at the dark-haired boy beside him. His features were subtly tanned but not in a dramatic way, his nose was smooth, his lips a luscious pink. The skin around his eyes was raw with pink welts, which caused Draco to frown. He was almost positive that this dark-haired teen was the jogger he had seen just over a week ago but then –where were his glasses? Draco drank in the tussled black hair, and the long black lashes that curled upwards from the dark eyelids. He twitched his lips again. What had happened to this boy to suddenly wind-up with no glasses and a sling and a whole load of scars? "What's your name?" he finally braved to ask, feeling his heartbeat drum heavily against his ribcage.
The silence was soft and floating. The boys' muscles did not tense up like Draco has suspected they would. He was tense about everything else, after all. The dark-haired boy turned to look over at Draco, the small swords of dried yellow grass jutting up between their eyes. The sunlight bathed them both in a glowing golden warmth. The dark-haired teenager's features were soft as his bright green eyes wavered slightly as he drank in the sight of Draco. Draco shivered involuntarily. No one had dared to be this close to him and analyse his worth since –ever. Finally Draco watched as the twin petal pink lips parted and a smooth voice drifted out onto the warm breeze and floated into Draco's mind. "Harry" it whispered, "Harry Potter"
Draco slid his hand over his stomach and touched the tip of his fingers to the tan fingertips jutting out of the bandages of Harry's slung arm. "I'm Draco"
There was a small pause in which Harry gave a smooth smile. "Draco …?"
Draco swallowed thickly. He physically could not call himself a 'Malfoy'. He had been disowned. Whenever that happened he could not refer to himself as a 'Malfoy' unless it was in the past tense. So he shrugged a lazy shoulder and smiled, "I'm just … Draco. Just Draco"
Harry smiled and Draco grinned slightly at the small twitch Harry's fingers made underneath his own. It was Harry's turn to break the comfortable silence they had settled in. "So just Draco are you hungry? When was the last time you ate?"
Anita had told him that she was going to go away for a week of therapy for her arthritis. She was going with a group of other people she knew in a retirement home. When Draco had questioned what it was she had explained it to him. He had understood and after a day or two had really missed her company. He only stopped by every now and then for the odd few hours but they both enjoyed the company. He only stopped by every now and then for the odd few hours but they both enjoyed the company. He had been alone for three days officially now and although he missed Anita and her sweet home-cooked meals, he also missed the talking and the company. He looked up into Harry's searching green eyes again and frowned, "you know I cannot remember when the last time was"
This seemed to startle Harry as he blinked with wide eyes. "Would you think that I was an insane stalker type git if I offered you something to eat back at my house? Or I could make some sandwiches and bring them back here?"
Draco quirked a sleek blonde eyebrow; was this strange boy really that bored that he would invite a total stranger into his house for lunch? "Harry –we have only just exchanged names. I could be a homicidal maniac for all you know. Retract the invitation"
Harry frowned. He had no idea what had made him say those words but now that he had said them he found that he was secretly hoping that Draco had said 'yes'. He licked his lips, "um yeah alright –I don't know why I said it"
Draco shrugged; "it's alright" the silence that descended was awkward. Stiff and tense, just like Harry felt. He felt stupid and insecure all of a sudden. He hated feeling that way. Draco sighed wearily, not wanting to screw things up before whatever this was had even started. "You know … a little … food in some shade would not be such a bad idea"
Draco felt his throat tighten as he saw Harry's eyes smile along with those lips, "I guess –you'll stay here won't you?"
"There's food involved –course I'm staying right here" Draco threw Harry a smile.
Harry could only grin and return to number Four as soon as he possibly good. However as soon as he closed the front door behind him he could not help but suddenly feel the weight of the situation collide into him like a brick wall. What the Hell had he been thinking when he invited Draco back here? That was something he would never do. Ever! He felt his muscles shiver. What was he thinking; he did not know this person, what if Draco was right? What if he was a homicidal maniac? He ran his good hand down his face and sighed. He had promised lunch and he would bring lunch. He kept his promises.
~0~
Draco had followed Harry, trailing a little behind him, to a point just on the other side of the tunnel with the train track over the top. It was cool and damp but it was in the shade and right now that is all that mattered to him right now. He was a little stiff from being in the sun all morning but he was not too bothered. He sort of wanted to see Harry again. He had a feeling the brunette was a suppressed chatterbox. It would be entertaining to see how loose Harry would get once he started to get talking. Draco smirked and rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he shifted his feet. This would be an interesting study if nothing else. He fiddled with the hem of his tatty muggle shirt as he waited, the heat of summer making the minute amount of time drag on endlessly. He was suddenly very aware of home slimy his skin felt, covered in a weeks old of natural grease. He grimaced. He had never been so filthy in all of his life. He squirmed as the concrete wall he was leaning on ground into his back. He wanted to tug at his hair and claw his skin from his bones just to make the filth go away. Even if only for a little while.
"Draco!"
The call of his name jerked him out of his inane musings to look down the long concrete expanse of tunnel with the blaring light darting through. There was an explosion of relief within his muscles as he depicted the outline of a scruffy haired boy walking in his direction with a large bag hanging from his good arm. Draco swallowed and straightened his back against the concrete wall, arms crossed over his chest. As Harry drew closer Draco could make out the shy grin on the other boys' lips and could not help a small friendly smirk in return. "You took your time" Draco teased.
Harry gave a one-armed shrug, "yeah well maybe I'll break one of your arms and see how you manage that"
"So where shall we go? I have a little picnic thing going on in here" he held up the large bag, "and there's a small blanket in there to sit on"
Draco nodded, apparently extremely impressed by Harry's precision on the matter. "Sounds good. I don't really know of anywhere in this area except for the bloody playground"
Harry gave a weak smile. He suddenly felt awkward being so close to Draco. The blonde had all the time in the world to wonder around Surrey and yet he stayed in one place. Why? Harry knew he wanted to ask, the question had arisen from within him like a bubble ready to burst from his mouth. But he couldn't –he didn't know why –he just did not think it appropriate. "Well there's a shady copse of trees just down the way, it'll be nice in this heat" He raised his beryl green eyes to look up at Draco for approval. The blonde, now twice as filthy as last week, shrugged his shoulders and unwound his arms from about his chest. Harry sighed with relief. Of course Draco wouldn't care –he didn't know the area. "Okay" and without another word Harry hobbled past Draco and looked over his shoulder nodding to the blonde to follow him up the small concrete staircase to the grassy embankment up ahead.
The walk to the small copse of trees Harry was referring to was bathed in the soft hush that was so comfortable in the middle of the summer. Harry had jogged up near this copse many times but he did not know if the blonde boy beside him had ever been this far. The leaf-laden branches cast soft golden shadows across their features as they stepped foot underneath the shade. "I do not think I have been this far from town before" Draco mused in wonderment as he untied his hoodie from around his waist and bundled it up in his arms before dropping it onto the grass. He ran both of his hands through his blonde hair before wincing at the amount of grease that was in it. He could feel his hair in its slicked back position and it irked his scalp. His eyes stung with tears but he refused to cry. He scowled at himself. He huffed loudly before looking over.
He froze.
He had forgotten Harry was there, awkwardly shifting his weight so that he had managed to drop onto both of his knees. They could only stare at one another. Draco tensed his shoulders. His expression hardened a little in defense. Harry himself had not hardened his expression or tensed his shoulders or done anything. He was just there, as readable as a book and yet his eyes were hollow and blank and jagged with too many emotions to comprehend all at once. Draco was surprised by this. The boy had most likely been put through more than he had and he just –took it. Could I do it?, Draco asked himself as Harry forced his body to drop the bag into the grass between their bodies and start shifting through its contents at a leisurely pace, could I be like Harry and brave through it all? He shook his head free of any thoughts and dropped to his knees. Why was the air suddenly so stiff and suffocating? Draco knew it was for him –he had hundreds of deep dark secrets festering away in his mind. He peered up at Harry and felt some of his muscles relax and unwind. Maybe Harry was not so different from him. Maybe Harry had more secrets than he was letting on. Like, what had actually happened to get the brunette into such a state of disrepair as he was currently in?
Within twenty minutes the blanket was spread out beneath them, bottled drinks were opened and shared as well as sandwiches. Harry had even brought one of his favourite decks of cards.
Harry had even brought one of his favourite decks of cards. They had opted to play some cards as one of their awkward conversations after the tense silence, had resulted in Draco boasting his skills and Harry challenging him. Draco had never turned down a challenge, even of a card-game he had no idea how to play. Harry had fun teaching Draco how to play poker; one of his own personal favourites, and Draco was enjoying being taught something new. He did not know if it was due to the fact that he loved playing cards, as trivial as it was, or if it was because Harry had such a quirky way of teaching him. Throughout the first game that they played, over idol conversation, Draco found that Harry was in fact a chatterbox and that he had a quirky humour, despite his one good arm. Draco found himself laughing at Harry's silly jokes and when Harry laughed at some of the altered versions of Draco's childhood stories with his old friends, Draco felt pride flutter through his stomach. He had done some good even if it was by unintentionally making Harry forget about where he had to go after the afternoon in the sun. Draco wished he could forget. He knew he couldn't but it was nice to pretend that he was an average homeless person, instead of an exiled wizard –was there really any difference?
"So Harry what do you do when you're not entertaining the local homeless people?" Draco asked as he shuffled the desk of cards. Manually. Something he was not used to doing.
Harry quirked a glossy black eyebrow and shrugged with his good arm, "well, I am riding my silver pony through the forest and rescuing damsels from glass coffins and fire-breathing dragons"
Draco watched as Harry laughed, the sunlight dancing over the vaguely tanned features and black lashes, wondering all the while what Harry would think if he knew that fire-breathing dragons were not something to laugh about. Draco swatted at Harry's thigh with the desk of cards, "I'm serious!" he laughed. Harry's laugh really was infectious.
Harry licked his lips, running his good hand through his hair, "well, I write -songs, poetry, stories, you name it I write it. I'm a sap for dark, emotional romantic literature"
Draco slowly nodded, "well that's understandable"
"How so?"
Draco shifted upright onto his knees and brushed his fingers through Harry's fringe. It had been irritating him, blocking his view of Harry's bright green eyes. Harry was watching him; he could feel the weight of those emerald eyes on him as his movements slowed down as his palm cupped Harry's ears. Draco swallowed. The boy in front of him was sat, frozen, their eyes locked. Draco's mind ran blank –and then he panicked. What had the question been? He refocused his eyes and smiled down at Harry, "you're a dark romantic" with a teasing smirk, he flicked Harry's earlobe playfully before reclining back onto his side in the grass.
Draco watched Harry flush from under his fringe before the brunette cleared his throat loudly, "and how would you know I'm a dark romantic?"
Draco shrug, "I am good at reading people"
Harry watched as the blonde boy twirled a strand of grass between his long, elegant fingers. He could not deny that the blonde was graceful and elegant in everything he did –even the way he ate at his food. Harry smiled and wiped a small bead of sweat from running down the back of his neck. He could not help but think how out of place Draco was; someone of Draco's nature belonged somewhere –classier? So what was the blonde doing in an average little area like Surrey? "Where are you from Draco?" Harry asked, as he eased himself down onto his back. He watched the blue sky through the small gaps in between the leaves before turning to look over at the blonde, who was now lying in a foetal position on the blanket. "I mean –before you ended up here –in Surrey?"
Draco sighed and curled in on himself a little more, suddenly feeling as though a sharp breeze had ripped through his grimy clothes. How was he supposed to tell Harry that he came from a huge manor controlled by Dark Magic, or what magic even was for that matter, and that if he let anything slip his Father and other dark wizards would be hot on his heels to end his life for being a traitor to the bloodline. He licked his lips and looked up into Harry's eyes. Could he tell him? "I –I come from Wiltshire"
Harry's eyes went wide, "Oh my GOD! Do you know how far that is from here? That's like –eighty odd miles at least or something!"
Draco gave a weak chuckle, "yeah … something like that"
"Aren't you lonely?"
Draco was caught off-guard by the question. He looked up at Harry's concerned expression and felt his throat tighten. Was he lonely? He had not necessarily thought about it in such basic terms before but –yes, he supposed he was lonely. He gave a hesitant smile, "yeah –I suppose I am"
Harry looked down at Draco for a moment of two, watching as his silvery grey eyes shone that little bit brighter in the sunlight. Harry looked down at the bright green apple in his hand. He always felt lonely and he had everything a person could want; a roof over his head, food at mealtime, and the freedom to do almost whatever he wanted –as restricted as he was to Number Four. He sighed. "I think –I'm lonely too" he managed to breathe out, half hoping that his words were drowned out by the gentle breeze that rattled the branches and shuffling the leaves overhead.
If Draco heard Harry he did not show it. He merely reached over and placed his hand over Harry's. Harry swallowed, his throat running dry. His eyes locked with Draco's. His heartbeat raced. His temperature rose. His stomach flipped and knotted. He could feel his pulse throbbing against his skin. Draco's eyes were calm and steady, like a placid sea on a cool November day. It took the brunette a moment to realise that his hand was empty. His head snapped back up to see Draco tossing the apple in the air and catching it gracefully. "Hey!" Harry exclaimed scrambling up to his feet, "give it back!"
Draco merely grinned devilishly as he continued to toss the apple around. Harry strode forward quickly, but Draco dodged him with little effort. They continued in such a manner for a while until Draco tossed the apple up in the air –and found himself being barrelled down to the grass below. He blinked with surprise and caught sight of the blue sky and Harry's brightly lit grinning face. He should have been angry. If anyone else had done it to him he would have attacked them and reveled in their pain.
Not Harry.
Harry was different.
Harry made him smile.
Neither seemed to notice nor care that Draco was sprawled on his back in the grass with Harry straddling his waist. Neither seemed to notice nor care about the suspicious glint in a hidden on-lookers eyes as they continued to laugh and bask in the sunshine, as Draco raised his hands to tickle Harry's slender frame. Neither seemed to notice nor care about the receding footsteps in the distance as said onlooker disappeared. By the time dusk tainted the sky with a dull blue hue, both boys' were breathless and revelling with the afterglow of the summer sunshine and the memory of a day well spent.
The bright green apple lay forgotten in the grass