Only Ash Remains

Chapter 19

"He'll never use it," Harry said, feeling sorry for himself. Malfoy  had been ignoring him for a few weeks now — long enough that Harry was  beginning to doubt he'd ever relent.

"He will," Ron said confidently. "Just wait." He took a deep breath, then shouted, "Hey Malfoy!"

Harry caught the familiar flash of pale hair on the stairs.

"The slide is ready now," Ron called. "You're welcome to try it out."

Malfoy sniffed and continued down the stairs and past them, pointedly not making eye contact with Harry.

Harry slumped dejectedly against the wall.

"See?"

Ron whacked him affectionately on the shoulder. "Just wait," he repeated.

Harry tried to suppress a sigh. He knew he was moping, but he was having a hard time caring.

"Meanwhile," Ron said, shoving him toward the slide, "we may as well test it."

------------------------

Later that week, Ron dragged him to the kitchen for a late-night  snack. They made giant sandwiches and toasted one another with  butterbeer. It was the most fun Harry had had since Ron and Hermione had  returned.

As they were making their way back to their rooms, Harry caught a  flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Turning, he was shocked to  find Malfoy sliding down the slide. He looked ridiculous. And he was  smiling.

Malfoy froze, the smile dropping instantly from his face as soon as  he saw them. Ron opened his mouth, and Harry braced himself for the  taunting that was sure to follow.

Instead, Ron grinned at Malfoy. "It's fun, yeah? Have you tried going up yet?"

Malfoy stared at him for a second, then slowly shook his head. Ron grinned enthusiastically.

"It's even better than going down. Go on — try it."

Malfoy hesitated, then whispered the password. The cushion whisked him back up the slide and out of sight.

Harry sighed and started toward the stairs, assuming that was that, but Ron held out a hand, stopping him.

"Wait," he said quietly.

After several long seconds, Malfoy came whooshing back down the slide, the smile back on his face.

"Have you tried it yet, Potter?" he asked.

It was the first time he'd spoken to Harry since Ron and Hermione had interrupted their moment of... whatever it had been.

Harry stared, then felt a smile tugging at his lips. "No," he admitted. "Not yet."

Malfoy scooted off the cushion and held his arm out, beckoning Harry over. "You should."

Harry seated himself gingerly on the cushion and met Malfoy's eyes  questioningly. Malfoy grinned mischievously and whispered the password,  sending Harry ricocheting back up the slide. He screeched in surprise,  and he heard Malfoy's laughter receding behind him.

When he reached the top, he turned around and whooshed back down, relishing the feeling of flying.

He hopped off the cushion at the bottom, feeling the smile stretch across his face. "That was great!" he said.

Malfoy grinned at him, then turned to Ron. "Sometimes, Weasley, your ideas aren't half bad."

Ron shook his head. "Right. I'm off to bed. 'Night Harry. Malfoy."

Harry watched him go, feeling a rush of anxiety that made him wish  Ron would stay. He moved toward the stairs, but Malfoy held out a hand,  stopping him.

"We need to talk," he said quietly. "I... need to apologise."

Harry looked up at him incredulously. "Why?" he asked.

"I've been avoiding you. I assumed you wouldn't want to spend time  with me, now that your friends are back. I was only ever a poor  replacement."

"You were not!" Harry exclaimed, far louder than was polite, this  time of night. "I've missed spending time with you. I've missed you."

Malfoys cheeks flushed pink. "I was also... scared," he admitted.  "Things were suddenly moving so fast — I didn't know what to do." He  looked up through his lashes at Harry, biting his lip. "I've missed you  too."

Harry felt a slow smile spreading across his face. "Come with me," he  said. "There's still plenty of sandwich stuff in the kitchen. And Ron  and I didn't drink all the butterbeer."

He held out his hand, just a little. So he could take it back and pretend he'd never offered it, if necessary.

Malfoy shyly slipped his hand into Harry's, interlocking their fingers.

"All right," he said softly.

------------------------

Much later, as they leaned against one another sleepily, watching the sun come up, Harry turned abruptly to stare at Malfoy.

"Hey, Malfoy," he said.

Malfoy blinked his eyes open from where they'd drifted shut. "Yeah, Potter?"

"Why do you still call me Potter instead of Harry?"

A lazy smile spread across Malfoy's face. "I could ask you the same question."

Harry frowned and poked him in the ribs. "Seriously, though. I want to know."

Malfoy shrugged. "I could call you Harry, I suppose." He made a face.  "It just feels weird. Everyone and their mother calls you Harry. My mother calls you Harry."

Harry snorted. "Well, Draco..." He paused. "You're right. That does feel weird."

Malfoy turned to bury his face in Harry's shoulder. "I call you Potter because I'm the only one who calls you that."

Harry nodded, leaning to the side and resting his head on Malfoy's as  he yawned. "S'alright. I don't mind. I'll just keep calling you  Malfoy."