complimentary colours • drarry •

9: expecto patronum

Monday 9th November 1998

"That snitch is definitely letting you win," Draco called to Harry as he circled the pitch, celebrating his third win in a row.

He landed on one of the stands, signalling that the game was over, his breath coming out as a white cloud. Harry saw that Draco had stopped flying with him and flew down, hopping off his broom to stand next to him. They'd already had to swap brooms between rounds. Draco had complained that Harry's was a superior model after being beaten one too many times.

"Or I'm just a better seeker than you," Harry teased.

Draco would never admit it, but he was starting to think maybe Harry was right. They'd never practiced together before. The only time he'd really seen Harry play was in official games, when there was pressure and a whole crowd watching. But when it was just the two of them, with only the stars and the moon to witness, it was hard to deny that Harry was born to be a seeker. Draco wondered why he'd never considered going professional.

"How do I know you haven't tampered with it to make me lose?"

Draco held his hand out and Harry scoffed, but placed the snitch in his palm. Running a hand through his hair and wiping his upper lip, he sat down heavily on the bench behind them, arms propped up against the wood and legs splayed out in a way that was very distracting.

It had been two weeks since they first snuck out to play quidditch. Draco had almost decided it was never going to happen again. Until a week ago when, much like that night, Harry had found him awake in the middle of the night and asked him again.

Now, their secret quidditch games had become a regular thing. This was the third time they had snuck out of the castle together and Draco, pathetically, went to bed every night hoping it would happen again. He told himself it was because he'd missed flying, and not because the more time he spent with Harry the more addicted he became to having him close.

They played three games each night, then it had become a habit to stay out afterwards, just talking. They never acknowledged it during the day. Even when they so often partnered together in classes, they still felt like they should be acting how everyone expected them to. But at night there were no prying eyes to make them reconsider their words. It felt like a secret, something only they needed to know about.

Draco sat beside him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, inspecting the snitch.

"It's just a regular snitch," Harry said, in exasperation. "It's the one I caught in my first quidditch game."

Draco frowned at him, then back down at the golden ball in his hand. He had wondered what the 'long story' behind it was ever since he first mentioned it. It was such a strange thing to carry around, and Harry always had it in his pocket. He hadn't asked at the time because he didn't want to pry but now Harry was offering this information up willingly and Draco was curious.

"Why do you have it?" he asked.

"Dumbledore left it for me. It..." he hesitated for a second. "It had the resurrection stone in it."

Draco's head snapped up to look at Harry.

"The resurrection stone?"

Draco had heard of the Deathly Hallows, obviously. All wizard children had been read The Tales of Beedle the Bard as a kid and Voldemort had been obsessed with finding the Elder Wand. He felt a small amount of satisfaction at the thought of Harry having the second hallow in his possession all this time. One last 'fuck you' to the Dark Lord.

And then he remembered that Voldemort had found the Elder Wand, and that Harry had defeated him.

"So you've had two of the Deathly Hallows in your possession and you just never told anyone?" Draco asked. He wanted Harry to acknowledge the significance of this. Draco would have told everyone. Would have introduced himself as 'Draco Malfoy, the possessor of two Deathly Hallows'.