Veritas Vos Liberabit [Drarry Fanfiction]

Always on the Run

"Draco?" Harry replied and fumbled with the safety belt, trying to free himself. "What?... What happened?"

The blonde was staring at his palms smeared with crimson, slightly confused. A trickle of blood was running down his cheek from a shallow cut on his forehead.

"I must have fallen asleep at the wheel..." he concluded. "I was trying to get away from London as soon as possible... Where are we?"

Harry looked out of the window. It was still light enough to be afternoon. They must have driven off the main road and into some bushes and trees until a large rock made the ambulance finally stop.

"No clue. Let's get out of here... I think you're bleeding," the brunette suggested and rummaged for his wand.

There wasn't any. And then he remembered that he was still wearing his hospital gown and not much else and they escaped from being apprehended by the DMLE earlier that very morning.

"Here..." Draco said and passed him the hawthorn wand.

Harry's palm felt warm as familiar magic rushed through his body. He cast a few healing charms on the blonde and received a grateful smile in return.

They crawled out of the wrecked vehicle. Luckily the annoying siren wasn't wailing anymore, but colorful blinkers were still shining every which way. Draco was rummaging in the back of the car and then he emerged triumphant, holding some medical supplies and a spare uniform for Harry to change into.

"Well," the Gryffindor exhaled after his shoulder was carefully wrapped in fresh dressing, "What are we going to do next?"

"I dunno," Draco grumbled, he was going through the medical satchel and examining one orange bottle of pills after another, obviously looking for a fix.

"What are you trying to find there?" Harry asked carefully. "I don't think getting high on muggle drugs is such a great idea right now."

The blonde gave him a nasty glare but then he shook his head resignedly and threw the bag back into the ambulance. Harry was alarmed to see that, even in this dire situation, Draco was trying to satisfy his addiction. He understood that he would need to have a serious talk about such behavior in the future but they had more pressing matters at hand.

"I guess you're right," Malfoy exhaled and lit a menthol cigarette in his teeth.

It wasn't the regular kind that he smoked, it didn't come from the muggle pack he usually carried. He pulled one out of a fancy engraved case with an ornate dragon on the top, encrusted with precious stones.

"This is my when-shit-goes-tits-up cigarette stash," he explained when he noticed Harry staring.

"Can I take a look?" the brunette asked quietly.

He tried not to seem too suspicious about what Draco had been smoking. But then he remembered about not hiding away his potions before and just wanted to make sure.

"Knock yourself out, Potter. They're only fags if that makes you happier," the Slytherin said bitterly and tossed the case to him.

The moment Harry caught it in his hand, the skin on his palm started burning as though someone had pressed hot iron into it. He dropped it immediately and hid his reddening fingers away from the blonde.

"You alright?" Draco looked at him curiously, picking up the object.

"Yeah, just... er... pulled my injured shoulder a bit too quick," he lied and touched his burn gingerly.

The case must have been out of sterling silver. Harry's heart sank at the realization of what it meant.

***