complimentary colours • drarry •

7: golden boy

Saturday 24th October 1998

Harry opened the door to his locker, hanging his broom on its rook. One of the shelves was now occupied by an extra set of neatly folded robes. Harry had gone down to the laundry room first thing after waking up and asked the house elves for an extra jumper. He could have found one in Slytherin colours but he thought it was amusing to make Malfoy wear Gryffindor red.

He hadn't had a chance to talk to Draco all day. After they'd returned to their room, Harry had got straight into his bed and was out like a light. He'd slept until noon. It was the best sleep he'd had in weeks, even if it did only last three hours. Thankfully, it was a Saturday and quidditch practise wasn't until after lunch. He'd expected to find Draco asleep when he woke, but the bed next to him had been empty and perfectly made.

He had then been dragged into studying with Hermione and Ron in the library, which he had agreed to partly because he'd hoped to find Draco there. He even looked in Draco's usual hidden corner but he'd been disappointed to find it empty.

Harry got the feeling he was being avoided. He didn't have too much time to dwell on this though as soon enough he was walking down to the quidditch pitch for practice and had to concentrate on captaining his team for two hours. It was difficult not to get distracted. Every time he looked down at the now trodden and muddy grass, he was reminded of Draco lying next to him, stars reflected in his eyes as he pointed out constellations, head tilted slightly towards him. He had never played so badly.

Harry walked out of the locker room, this time in the daylight and with the rest of his team following behind. He locked the door behind them and put the key's in his pocket. He still thought it was a bad idea for him to be trusted with the keys, but McGonagall had insisted that he should have them.

As he walking with his teammates back to the castle, he spotted a lonely figure sitting against a tree at the edge of the forbidden forest, where the trees met the water of the Great Lake. The grounds were otherwise empty of students. Probably because the sun was going down and the air was growing chilly. Harry slowed his pace as he continued to stare. Ron looked back at him with a frown.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Harry said, looking away. "I'll catch up with you, I'm going for a walk."

He left a clearly confused Ron with a promise to meet him and Hermione in the Great Hall for dinner, then started walking across the grass field to the edge of the forest, hoping Ron wasn't paying too much attention to the direction he was going.

"Ok," Ron called after him, but he was too distracted to hear.

Now that Harry had finally found Draco, he wasn't going to let him slip away again.

It had been an impulsive decision, to ask Draco to come with him. Harry had expected him to refuse and tell him to leave him alone, like he usually did, but he'd come willingly. Harry didn't even have to convince him. He'd been unreasonably happy when he realised Draco actually wanted to spend time with him.

It was easy to forget, sometimes, that he and Draco shared a love for quidditch. It was such a simple and innocent thing, but Draco seemed grateful to be flying again and Harry was grateful for the company.

He never would have thought he'd enjoy just talking to Malfoy so much. It shouldn't work, they were supposed to hate each other, but Harry found himself hoping that Draco might want to join him again.

Harry didn't know what was wrong with him. He already looked for Draco in every room and he spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking about him. But now Draco was avoiding him and Harry was scared he was going to shut him out again. He didn't know when his happiness had become so reliant on whether or not Draco was paying attention to him, but he felt almost nervous as he came to a stop a few feet away from where Draco sat against the tree.