Blackberry Jam (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Forty

   Harry's initial reaction upon waking the next morning was that of contentment. He was wrapped in the arms of Draco as he had become accustomed to, but within seconds reality came crashing down and his eyes flew open in panic.

"Draco!" he hissed, spinning around to his still sleeping friend. The morning light was spilling around the edges around the curtains, and Harry could clearly see his blond hair and pale face, peaceful with slumber. But they couldn't stay like this, it wasn't right. "Draco, you must wake up."

Draco however merely screwed up his forehead and pulled Harry closer to him. "Nightmares," he mumbled.

Harry bit his lip. "I know," he said. "I know, I think I was shouting, but I'm fine now, you have to go back to your room."

Draco blinked sleepily and shook his head, burying his face against Harry's neck. "Not yours," he muttered. "Mine. My nightmares. Couldn't sleep without you."

Harry had heard people describe the sensation of their hearts 'melting' before, but until that moment he hadn't realised it was something you really could feel within your own chest. He sighed and stroked Draco's soft hair, and gave him a kiss by his ear. "What if your parents find you here, they'll kick me out."

"They'll do no such thing," Draco grumbled. "Mother adores you, and she's spoilt me horribly my whole life. We'll explain about the nightmares and that will be that."

Harry kissed him again, along his jaw a little closer to his mouth. "Fine then, if not your mother, then what about all your staff?"

"Bribery," said Draco. He had his eyes closed but his mouth wore a devilish grin. "Works like a charm."

"You are incorrigible," Harry said throwing the covers over their heads so he could sneak a proper kiss, the way the French did it.

When their day finally began, after baths and breakfast, Harry felt himself armed with a grim determination. They had no plans set for the day yet other than further unpacking, which Harry felt all things considered could wait.

"I'm going to go visit my house," he told Draco as they left the dining room.

"Your house?" Draco repeated neutrally.

Harry nodded. "I want to see if it's there, if my keys still work." He could feel Draco watching him as they climbed the stairs, so he turned to stop and look back at him, ignoring the lump in his throat. "If you like," he added, shy suddenly for some strange reason. "You could come with me?"

Draco's shoulders dropped in something that looked like relief. "Of course," he said sincerely. "When do you want to leave?"

Harry chewed his bottom lip. "Now?" he suggested tentatively.

Draco smiled. "Now it is then."

Knowing where they were in London, Harry was aware that they could get the Number 4 bus, but the weather was as bright and breezy as it had been the past few weeks, so therefore Harry suggested they take their bikes instead. Their two streets were probably as far away as they could get from one another whilst still falling within their old school's catchment zone, but if they were to ride he figured it would only take fifteen minutes or so.

As they travelled along the roads Harry got an even better look at the carnage caused by the Blitz. He took in silently whole streets that were now reduced to piles of rubble, only the odd chimney pot or front door poking out from the piles of bricks to indicate these were ever anyone's homes.

It was all a matter of luck, he began to think. One road would be demolished, and then the next would be untouched. He felt a pang of pity for all the people who had had to stay here all those years, and then another of guilt. His time in Little Whinging hadn't been entirely carefree, but it had not involved air raid sirens or fleeing to bunkers in the middle of the night either.

The uneasiness in his stomach increased the closer they got to Godric's Hollow Way. Would his home be one of the lucky ones, or was he about to face another thoroughfare of destruction?

He rounded the corner and was overcome with such relief his bike swerved violently and he had to strain to get control of the wheel. "Harry!" Draco called in alarm. "Are you alright?"

"It's there," he managed to croak, pointing a finger as he steadied the bike enough to steer with one hand. "It's still there, my house."

And it was. There was some damage at the end of the road, and Harry hoped the Diggorys had not been home when half their roof had collapsed all the way into their living room, but the Potters home was still very much intact.