We Open at the Close (Drarry)

Vulnera Sanentur

Draco strode out into the corridor and nearly walked into his mother.

"Draco," she frowned. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I'm sorry Mother, but I'm in a bit of a hurry," he began stepping passed her, but Narcissa grabbed his arm.

"What's going on?"

"Hold on," Ron interrupted. "What did you mean, he's leaving?"

Draco hurried passed the three of them and began marching down the hall. "The stupid git has got it into his head that he's in no fit state to be near anyone anymore— us included."

"So he's just leaving?" asked Hermione incredulously.

"Not if I can help it," Draco declared, exiting the hospital.

"Draco, stop," Narcissa pleaded, grabbing at Draco's hand. "Why are you doing this?"

Draco sighed and turned to his mother. "Because I love him. And I know what you're going to say," he put his hand up to stop her from interrupting. "You think that I'm too young to know what I'm talking about, but I just know . And I know that he loves me, too. Tell me, you went to hell and back with Father, yet you stuck with him. Why?"

Narcissa hesitated, then admitted in a choked voice, "Because I loved him more than life itself."

Draco squeezed his mother's hand. "I know exactly what you mean." Narcissa's shoulders sagged, and then she nodded. Draco kissed his mother on the cheek then turned to Ron and Hermione. "Give me some time to talk to him first. You know what he can be like."

"Yeah, we know all too well," said Ron grimly. He nodded resolutely at Draco, "Okay mate. We're trusting you with this one."

"If you need us we'll be at The Burrow," said Hermione. "You better hurry."

Draco nodded and with a loud crack he Disapparated.

***

It didn't take Harry long to pack his suitcase. Even though he had the house now, he still owned relatively few possessions— some clothes, his father's invisibility cloak, and his broomstick. Anything else in the house barely qualified as his. He picked up the snitch Dumbledore had given him and ran his finger over the message again before placing it carefully on the bedside table, leaving it for Draco. He snapped his case shut and pulled on his travelling cloak before stomping downstairs.

He knew it was unfair to leave everybody like this, without saying a proper goodbye. But he was afraid that if he spoke to them all face to face that they would convince him not to leave. He couldn't let them do that, he couldn't let himself give in to weakness again. He had to do what was best for everybody, and that meant that he had to leave. At least he had written Draco a letter explaining why he was doing it. He had waited long enough to know that Draco would recover, but he was still in hospital, too sick to leave. He would read his letter and be hurt for a while, but in time he would get over Harry and move on with his life.

He opened the front door of Grimmauld Place for the last time and paused as a crumpled piece of parchment was thrust into his face.

"What the fuck is this?" spat Draco, pushing his way into the house. He kicked the door shut behind him, still brandishing the paper in Harry's stunned face expecting an answer.

Harry gaped at Draco and dropped his case. "Draco, you're...why aren't you in hospital?"

"Because my boyfriend is an absolute git and sends me letters to my sickbed informing me he's going to leave the country without me!" snarled Draco, slapping the paper into Harry's chest.