Where Will You Go
Chapter 9 - Where Will You Go?
Harry slowly opened his eyes. He was in the infirmary.
"What’d I say about when you close your eyes, Potter?"
Harry looked up into Draco’s gentle eyes and responded with ease, "You never know what’ll be there when you wake up."
The blonde smirked. Harry asked about what had happened in the time he had been unconscious, and found that somehow, he already knew.
"…and all of a sudden I heard your voice in my head, screaming at me to kill Voldemort, and I said the Avada Kedavra curse, but it wasn’t my voice. It was yours. Isn’t that strange?"
Harry agreed, remembering the way he had seen everything Draco explained already. He had thought it was all a twisted dream at the time. The two decided that it must be a kind of connection brought forth when Harry acquired the rash on his arm. Madame Pomfrey had done a miraculous job clearing the rash, and with Voldemort’s demise, Draco’s Dark Mark had vanished without a trace, leaving only perfect ivory skin.
Draco told Harry about the prophesy He-Who-Was-Now-Dead had explained to him.
"It came true then!" exclaimed Harry. "We both killed Voldemort, just as it said. It was my thoughts in your body. He had no idea…"
Harry and Draco laughed, relieved that the worst was over.
The two boys were called to the Headmaster’s office early the next morning. Dumbledore found it imperative to explain the connection that they would now share, and the bond they would have to learn to use.
Over the remaining weeks of school, Professor Dumbledore taught the boys all he knew about their kind of connection. By the end of the term, Draco and Harry had developed it enough to speak telepathically. Dumbledore beamed at them, happy to see the two enemies so close.
Ron and Hermione were also pleased with the newfound friendship. They discovered that when Draco was not being a spoiled, conceited git he was actually quite nice. The Slytherins refused to speak to him, and many were sent to Azkaban for leaking information to their Death Eater parents and friends, and for being Death Eaters themselves. Draco planned to transfer into Gryffindor with the consent of the Sorting Hat for his final year.
The Weasley’s, as usual, owled Ron and told him to invite everyone to the Burrow for a relaxing break over the holidays.
Hermione planned a weekend for her and Ron to travel to Salem, Massachusetts and visit the historical sights there, as well as one of the American schools.
Ron planned a way to get out of going anywhere historical by entering to win tickets for the Quidditch World Cup. Hermione cried when she found out, and Ron felt awful, understanding how emotional girls are after having been one himself for an hour or two. Pansy Parkinson still made him shudder.
Speaking of which, the real Pansy apologized to Draco, and vowed that there were no hard feelings about everything that had happened. Draco smugly proceeded in telling everyone he knew she wasn’t Death Eater material from the start. "Pushover," he explained. "A complete pushover."
Harry finally fixed Ginny’s wild broomstick, just in time for Gryffindor to win their final Quidditch match of the term. Dean Thomas’s completed lion poster hung proudly in the common room that night, its beautifully detailed eyes watching over the party that raged below.
The next evening, Harry and Draco sat down by the shores of the lake. The sun was setting on their last day at Hogwarts, and a beautiful orange glow spread across the water. Draco tilted his face towards the dying golden rays and sighed.
Harry partially opened his eyes and watched Draco for a few moments before speaking.
"This summer’s going to be strange, Malfoy. I’ll actually look forward to seeing you on the train."
"Hopefully I’ll be seeing you before that," Draco laughed to himself. "Plus, what do I have to go home to? My mother’s mad over my father’s death. I got an owl yesterday. She’s in St. Mungo’s, and I have an entire cold, dreary mansion to myself. I can't stay there all summer, I’ll go mad, and my dear old mum will have a new roommate."
"But where will you go?" Harry’s eyes flicked up to Draco’s face.
"I don’t know," the boy nonchalantly replied, "what’s that Muggle saying? Home is where the heart is or something?"
Harry nodded in agreement.
Draco grinned, "Well then, I supposed home is where you are."
Harry mockingly looked astounded. "Draco Malfoy…gone soft? I must be dreaming."
"I agree," the other boy smirked, "That WAS horrendously tacky."
"Horrendous doesn’t even begin-"
Harry was cut off by Draco tackling him to the ground. The two wrestled each other until they were covered in dirt, sweat, and overall a huge mess. Draco wove his hand in Harry’s hair and pulled The-Boy-Who-Continued-To-Live towards him. Harry watched the blonde’s face as he kissed him, and to his shock, Draco Malfoy closed his eyes.
When he pulled away, Harry smirked. "What happened to ‘never close your eyes’?"
Draco grinned again, "I know who’ll be there when I open them."
They returned to watching the sun set. The sky had become a display of color, with reds, oranges, and deep yellows painting the heavens before the black of night veiled the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Draco sighed, and Harry looked to him for enlightenment. The blonde smiled slightly and gazed up at the dimming sky.
"You know, Harry, there really is so much beauty in the world."
Harry looked at Draco as if he had three heads, and the two burst into laughter. And there they sat, indifferent to the future or the past until dawn, when that colorful sky reappeared from the deep black of night. All they knew was that moment. And that moment was all that really mattered.
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