In the Dark
When Harry opened the door Draco was sitting cross-legged on the blanket, folded neatly in half like a sleeping bag, eating fried chicken from a plate set atop a case of Finnegan’s Swill. He was wearing Harry’s clothes and had recently showered. His hair was still damp. Nikolae, Harry saw, was gone. The lid of his sarcophagus pushed aside.
“I had to go to the bathroom for hours, Potter.” Was how Draco greeted him, “If Nikolae hadn’t gotten out of his coffin I’d be floating by now.” He wiped his hands and abandoned his dinner. “I must say, you are a most inhospitable host.”
“I was at St. Mungo’s.” Harry explained, “I came down here this morning, but you were asleep.”
“How are the girls?” He asked with regret.
“Christina is in the cottage. She’s tired, but Snape said she would be.” Harry closed his eyes as if it hurt to speak. “Sara is no better.”
“She will be, Potter.” Draco consoled him, “I can hear her thoughts. It’s hard sometimes, but she’s there.”
“What does she say?”
“Nothing. I can’t go that deep into her mind. She’s dreaming, Potter, or thinking I should say because her thoughts are lucid, but I can only see what’s on the surface. She wants to recover. She knows that you’re upset, she can feel it, and she can’t stop worrying about you.”
Something inside him smiled, though Harry kept a solemn expression. “She’s the one who’s sick, who almost died and she’s worried about me?”
“She’s also upset because she never gave you your birthday present and she wonders if you’ll like it. Want to know what it is?” Draco grinned, “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”
“I’ll want it.”
“The only other solid thought I got from her was her fear for Christina.”
“Christina was asking for you.” Harry admitted, “I said I would bring you to see her.”
Draco smiled genuinely and stood. “Let’s go then.” He hesitated, looking down at the old jeans and the blue sweater he was wearing, brought from Harry’s closet by Nikolae. “Do I look ok?” He smoothed his hair back and waited for Harry’s approval.
“Are you serious?” Harry rolled his eyes, thinking Malfoy always looked ok. “Come on, Fabio. It’s getting late and if you’re going to tell me your story then we’d best get to it. I’m running on empty as it is.”
“Well? Do I look ok or not?”
Harry almost laughed when he saw Draco really wanted his opinion. “You look like a guy who sleeps in an underground room with a vampire.” He grinned, “Come on.”
Draco frowned and followed him out.
* * *
Christina smiled when Harry appeared in the open doorway.
“I brought you a visitor, but he’s in the bathroom mirror, combing his hair.” He grinned.
A muffled voice issued from another room. “Oh shut-up!”
“Don’t mention it.” He smiled warmly and realized again how much he liked Christina. She was sincere and down-to-earth. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much.” She hesitated, “Actually, I’m a little bored.” She blushed with apology.
“You’re not imposing.” He smiled and raised his voice, “He is, but that’s another matter altogether.”