DRARRY - Wonderful Wheezes

Chapter Seven

"Oh, abstergo. It's slow progress, but I'm getting there."

"I see."

Malfoy stood still, not saying anything, and Harry realised that he was waiting for him to cast.

With a slow twirl of his wand, Harry cleared a spot on the floor about the size of a galleon. Malfoy followed suit, and, for a while, they worked in silence.

Occasionally, Harry would hear the speaker on the bottom floor blast a staticky welcome message for visitors, but those moments were few and far between. Verity didn't come up to check on them like he thought she might, so he and Malfoy developed a rhythm all of their own. 

The muttered incantations would refrain from overlapping and their hands always stayed just shy of bumping one another in the cramped section that comprised the area of the floor they could safely stand in. When Harry looked over some time later, Malfoy's brow was glistening with sweat, his cheeks a ruddy pink, his sleeves rolled up high enough to see all but the top edge of his dark mark.

When he caught Harry staring, his voice abruptly cut out in the middle of his spell, eyes flashing.

Harry didn't say anything, but the air in the room began to feel like thick syrup, trying to worm its way into his brain and suffocate him.

When neither of them offered up the first word, Malfoy sighed.

"Let's go for a drive," he said, and Harry was so taken aback that he agreed without thinking.

They glided out of the store and to the nearest apparition point while he still felt a little dazed, and the next thing he knew they were standing beside an old-looking blue car and Malfoy was opening the door to the driver's-side seat.

Harry walked around it slowly, taking in the simple frame, feeling like a fool as he pulled on the door handle gently and bent down inside. The silence was stifling as he closed himself in, but then Malfoy put the key in the ignition and they were sailing smoothly down dirt roads, casting a long shadow.

Harry recognised that they must be near Wiltshire, which he supposed made some amount of sense, though he didn't like the idea of being so nearby to the manor.

Malfoy rolled down the window on his side, the wind whipping his blond hair across his eyes and drawing Harry's attention to the tight grip he held on the wheel.

He was working up the courage to ask when the hell Malfoy had learned to drive when Malfoy spoke instead.

"You really want to own a joke shop for the rest of your life?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Malfoy tilted his head, considering. They'd slowed down slightly, but the car was still moving fast enough that sand and grit flew into Harry's eyes as he leaned out his own window to look at the passing scenery.

"Nothing, really. It's just that... well, you're the chosen one, aren't you? You could do anything. Be an Auror, a professor... even play for Puddlemere United if you wanted to. Hell, with all the magical energy you've got thrumming through your veins, you could Imperius the whole Ministry and make any changes to the Wizarding World that you want."

Harry huffed out a laugh. Wasn't that a thought? He'd been wondering the same thing himself, really, and he still hadn't found an answer. Was he going to sign on with Robards in the spring? Was he going to try for anything at all?

Harry leaned his head against the metal door frame, letting the last glints of setting sun flash over his face. "Don't I deserve to be happy?"

He hadn't meant to ask that, but it had come out anyway.