Eclipse

Chapter 14

Draco didn't mention it again. It was as though the time spent at the river had been a time and place apart, and Draco carried on as if it hadn't happened. Almost. Draco didn't act much differently than he had before. He still tossed random insults back and forth with Harry with casual amusement, and still prattled on with long-winded tales of random magical facts. He took great amusement when Harry tripped over a branch and landed face-first in an unfortunately muddy patch of ground, and snickered gleefully as he healed Harry's bruises. Harry had returned the requisite scowl. Still, something had changed. They were closer, somehow. Unspoken though the fact might be, it was obvious, and Harry took a strange comfort in it. Somehow, he knew Draco did, too.

In many ways, they were still in their "place apart" from the rest of the world.

A few times, Harry found himself watching Draco with a sort of fascination. He'd never really looked at him before, and even after their escape, the mental image he'd constructed of the pointy-faced, haughty blond hadn't quite vanished. Now, Harry let himself see what was really there. When Draco was relaxed, he actually had a very pleasant smile. Harry wondered offhandedly if ugliness was really just a side-effect of a sour disposition. Draco caught him staring once, when they'd stopped for a snack, and wordlessly raised an eyebrow in query. Harry merely shrugged, took the last bite from his apple, and threw the core in Draco's general direction.

After one pleasant day of easy travel, Harry awoke the following morning to rain spattering in through a gap in the tent. He groaned, which woke Draco.

"Maybe I spoke too soon," Draco grumbled as he stuck one hand out of the tent to feel how heavy the rain was. "'Beautiful' my arse."

Harry snickered, and Draco responded by flicking a handful of rainwater at him. Even the miserable weather couldn't dampen the light-hearted mood. Harry waterproofed their clothes, and Draco turned a couple of leaves into a hideous pair of hats. When Harry laughed, Draco insisted that his hats would be considered the height of fashion somewhere in the world.

"Perhaps... in an institution for the blind, or maybe the criminally insane."

Draco scowled. "Fine. Your head can just get wet, then."

Harry smiled, grabbed the hat, and plopped it on his head. "I never said I didn't like it."

"Then you have terrible taste in fashion."

"Wait, but you just said -"

"Said what?" Draco grinned innocently. "And by the way, your hat clashes with your jumper."

Harry shook his head, trying to mentally catch up with Draco's rambling. "Hat clashes... what...? That's because it's green."

"Well, what other colour would it be?" Draco asked as he began fishing through the pack for breakfast.

Harry tapped the hat with his wand. "Red." The hat abruptly changed colour.

Draco frowned, abandoned his quest for breakfast, and aimed his wand at Harry's hat. "Green."

"Red!"

"Green!"

"Red -" " - Green!"

Draco's eyes went wide, and he immediately doubled over in laughter. Harry got a funny feeling - something like being scared, but not quite - and removed the hat from his head. "Plaid," he said bleakly.