Irresistible Fate

The Marathon is run out

Harry threw himself into training. That's all he felt he could do. Ironic, he thought, he wasn't just walking away, he was running away. Running provided a woeful consolation in being alone, however, the pounding of his feet on the pavements never extinguished that feeling of being hopelessly incomplete. And running only served to prolong the times when his mind wasn't focused on work and, as a result, he spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about Draco. Draco was his deepest longing, denied, and he seemed to see him everywhere he went: a flash of white-blond hair; a pair of grey eyes; a tall, slender man; even the dark hair of 'Samson', Malfoy's presence seeming to flow all around him, enticing him with a distant, unreachable warmth that he never stopped desiring. But despite the certainty that he kept seeing Draco where ever he went, he just kept running.

Marathon day approached fast, and work seemed unbearably busy at this time. Between being out in the field and his training, Harry was left with little time for anything else bar his weekly catch-ups with Hermione and Ron, Jacob's check-ups, and the weekends with Teddy, a time always precious to him but so often too far and few between. He was grateful not to be left with the empty space to think. Only when he was out running.

By 17th April, Harry had been pledged a stunning 16,510 Galleons in sponsorship, and the Trustees had finally officially promised to match the figure so it was announced in the Daily Prophet. The amount would make a substantial difference to the hospice pot. He wore his 'St Mungo's Hospice' t-shirt with pride, impressed that Hermione had charmed it so that muggles would read 'St Thomas's Hospital'. The sun was out, but the temperature still April cool, giving the runners perfect running conditions. Harry was aiming to run the marathon in just under four hours and twenty minutes and the extra push in training was keeping him at around a nine-and-a-half-minute mile. This gave him an additional nine minutes or so to allow for the slow start pace due to the crowds of people partaking. The benefit of being in Scotland for a month was the hill running, his stamina was much improved from previous years. In fact, once the race began and he was able to start running properly, Harry was able to weave his way forward fairly quickly.

The pounding of his footsteps couldn't quite drive away his thoughts of Draco.

Harry hit the wall at twenty-two and a half miles, his pace slowing to deal with the dizziness and weakness. Jacob had warned him it might be worse than usual because of the weight-loss but he'd been through it before and knew he could keep going. He also knew that Jacob would be roadside near the City of London phase with an energy drink. He plodded through and sure enough, at around twenty-three miles he saw Jacob, with Ned and Petra from the inn, all three cheering him on and giving him that extra boost for the last three miles. Twenty-seven minutes to go.

As Harry turned down The Mall, he checked his watch, he was ahead of his planned time at four hours and seven minutes. His strength had returned and with just over half-a-mile to go, his pace picked up in a last surge of adrenalin.

Opposite St Clarence's House, there was no denying that he definitely saw Draco in the crowd, incongruously still compared to the other spectators; his blue shirt, silver-grey waistcoat, and black jacket differed dramatically to the relaxed dress of the other spectators. Draco's presence bothered Harry but he just kept running – so close now.

In St James' Park, Hermione, Andromeda, and Ron, with Teddy on his shoulders, managed to make their way through the crowds and find him. Harry was wrapped in a silver-foil blanket, walking painfully slowly but trying to keep moving. He had a huge grin on his face, not least because he had achieved a PB of just over four hours and ten minutes. There were hugs and grins all round as they slowly made their way through the crowds of people to try and find a quiet spot to disapparate.

As they wove between exhausted runners wrapped in their silver blankets and cheery spectators, Harry saw Draco again, watching him through the crowds.