Draco stirred as soft sunlight filtered from in between the open blinds, making his nose itch.
Rubbing his face, he attempted to sit up, only to find that everything hurt. "Fuck you, Potter," he muttered bitterly, regretting ever giving him the bed. Potter. Blinking and furrowing his eyebrows until his previously dormant body became active again, Draco looked over to the small bed on the other side of the room.
In it lay Harry's sleeping figure and, for once, he looked peaceful.
Standing up, Draco crossed his arms and watched the way Harry had his legs curled almost all the way to his chest, his arms tucked underneath his head.
Draco wished that Harry would just keep sleeping. The disturbing horrors that awaited him would rear their heads if he opened his eyes, and Draco feared that Harry may not be able to simply 'bounce back' this time. He didn't want to see Harry break. He couldn't sit idly by and watch that.
---
With a groan, Harry clawed for his glasses somewhere on the bedside table. What time was it? He had had a disturbingly good sleep and for the first time in a good while felt well-rested afterwards.
Finally, he managed to slide his glasses on his face and groggily prise his eyes open, looking around.
Hold on.
A folded blanket sat idly in the corner of the room. Yet there was no sign of Draco.
Frowning, Harry made an effort to get out of bed. Perhaps Draco was just in the bathroom, or maybe waiting outside.
Harry's phone sat in his lap and as he stared at it, he thought of something Draco said - something about not being a dick to himself. And, feeling as though it was an external force controlling his hand, Harry picked up his phone and put in his password and clicked a few things before holding the phone to his ear. Within a few seconds, two other people picked up the call.
"Harry? Oh my god!" Came Hermione's shocked but relieved voice, and Harry already felt some tension release in his face.
"H- ry? Wher- fuck have you been?" Ron's eager voice crackled through his bad internet, making a smile etch across Harry's face.
"Good to see you too."
"What happened, Harry? We've been-"
"Yeah!"
"-Trying to get a hold of you for over a week! We were both worried out of our-"
"What th- pened? We both- you were dead!"
Rubbing his forehead with a grin, Harry stood up and squinted. "What are you saying? Your internet sucks, Ron."
"It really does, Ronald."
"Fuck- both. So?"
Harry took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, guys. Some... some stuff happened. Remus and Sirius came to the Dursleys but... it didn't go well."
"Scar-bursting not well?" Ron questioned.
"Yeah."
With hardly any hesitation, Hermione's tone turned gentle. "We know, Harry. Professor Lupin and Sirius called us."
"They- they did?" Harry's eyes widened. It didn't surprise him, but... he just didn't expect people to put such an effort into making sure he was okay.
"Yeah, m- te." Ron said in agreement. "-d what they sai... shit sucks, man. -'m sorry."
"Don't be," Harry said firmly. "And, besides... I'm better now."
The silence aside from Ron's crackly breathing on the phone revealed the anticipation the other two held.
"I promise," Harry added. "No more ignoring texts or calls."
He could practically hear Hermione's smile as she said, "That's good to hear, Harry. I'm really glad."
"Yeah, -too. What s- said. We missed you."
Not knowing what words to use, Harry just smiled and leaned into the heat of his phone.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione began, using the voice that she always uses when she's remembered something. "You should call Remus. As in, right now, with no delay. He and Sirius have been worried sick!"
Harry bit back a shameful grimace. "Yeah, that's true. Okay. I'll be back."
"Alright. Good luck, Harry."
"-ah, good lu-" Ron's voice managed to say before his sound cut out again.
"Bye!" Quickly tapping onto Remus' profile, Harry got distracted for a couple of seconds reading through all the messages that Remus had sent him. There were a surprising amount of apologies which then turned into the assurance that they're doing their best to get him out of there.
Taking a deep breath, Harry clicked 'call.'
After the first tone, it was picked up.
"Hello?" Remus' anxious voice said immediately. "Harry?"
Remus' comforting familiarity swamping him, Harry closed his eyes. "Remus. Hi."
"Oh my- Harry, are you okay?" Relief flooding into his tone, Remus' voice leaned away from the phone before yelling, "Sirius! It's Harry!"
A few seconds of muffled shouts and hurried footsteps later, Sirius must have been at the phone as well. "Harry, oh thank fu- god, thank god. Harry, I- I'm so sorry, that went down like shit covered in solid gold and- and we've been worried sick about you, you weren't responding and-"
"Sirius, babe, calm down." Remus' soothing voice said, and even Harry found his heart rate lowering to a more steady pace. "We don't want to overwhelm him."
"Right. Right. Okay, right. Sorry, Harry."
Not knowing whether to laugh or to cry, Harry smiled. "It's okay. Really. And I'm fine, I promise."
"I'm glad to hear that, Harry," Remus replied. "We both are. The thought of you still being in that house... I didn't know what they'd do to you."
"But we're glad you're okay." Sirius ended, before adding apprehensively, "You're okay... right?"
"I'm all in one piece," Harry confirmed, scratching the back of his neck. How long did he have until the Dursleys realised he was gone? Would they think that his godfathers stole him, and then Remus and Sirius would unrightfully get in trouble?
"Harry, there's something we need to talk about," Remus said, and Harry felt his eyebrows draw closer together.
"What do you mean? About what?"
"It's about-"
Whatever Remus said next was drowned out by a noise that almost sounded like metal pots falling down the stairs, and then a woman shouting somewhere in the background, "OH, I'VE HAD IT WITH YOUR PESKY MAGIC TRICKS! IF THEY'RE NOT IN THE BIN BY TOMORROW MORNING-"
"Are you at the Burrow?" Harry immediately asked.
After a couple of seconds of silence from Remus and Sirius (the shouting continued, now being joined by multiple other voices in argument), Remus said, "Maybe it's best if you come here instead."
"Do you need a ride?" Sirius asked.
Harry was just about to answer positively when something on top of the folded up blankets in the corner of his room caught his eye. "Actually, I think I may be able to arrange something."
---
Awkwardly making drumming noises against his thighs, Harry looked around the cleanest car he had ever seen. "Do you vacuum every day or something?"
"I know cleanliness is foreign to you, Potter, but perhaps it's something you'd best be acquainted with." His hands firm on the steering wheel, Draco glared at the road. There's something different about his face - he looked more stressed, and kept sending frenzied glances to the rear-view mirror. His mouth was pressed into a firm line, and even his comeback felt lacking.
Harry pretended not to notice any of this. "I must say that it was very tender-hearted of you to leave your number on top of your blankets."
"Fuck you," Draco said, his brow not decreasing. "The note also said 'never call me,' so clearly you can't read instructions."
"Actually, it said 'never call unless it's an emergency.'" Harry interjected with a smirk.
"Is this an emergency?" Draco said. When faced with Harry's silence, he lifted an eyebrow. "Thought so. Where am I even taking you and why can't you just walk?"
"The Burrow. Well, I mean, the Weasley's house. It's- here, I'll put it into the GPS." Harry leant forwards.
Draco briefly glanced over. "Your gorilla hands better not grease up my screen, Potter."
"Gorilla hands? Wh- my hands aren't hairy!"
Simply lifting his eyebrow, Draco didn't comment.
Flustered, Harry tucked his hands underneath his arms. "How the fuck are your hands so hairless, then, you- you... rat."
"That's the best you c-"
"Shut up." Harry's face burned.
The streets and buildings dissipated and were slowly replaced with green fields and cobbled roads.
"Why are you going to the den of Weasleys?" Draco asked, his nose wrinkled in distaste.
"I'm actually meeting my godfathers there," Harry said, leaning his head against the seat that was way too uncomfortably upright for his liking. "And if they're there, probably others. Like, I dunno which of them you'd know. Dumbledore, for one."
Immediately, Draco's fists tightened around the steering wheel so that his knuckles turned white, and a small gasp escaped from his lips. "Why would you- I don't want to know where he is, why-" Causing Harry to ram his elbow into the door, Draco swerved to the side of the road, the car coming to a harsh stop. "I- you can't just- get out. Now."
Concerned, Harry fumbled for his seatbelt. "Alright?"
"Just... Please." Draco's voice trembled before he cleared his throat and said roughly, "Leave. Hurry up."
"Jesus, okay!" Almost falling out of the car in his haste, Harry slammed the door behind him and he had hardly stepped away from the car before Draco's sleek, black car had already hurtled down the narrow road in the opposite direction, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. Even though he should have been coughing his lungs out - and maybe cussing out some brat - Harry found himself staring after the car, his eyebrows drawn together in the middle.
Luckily he only had to walk for a couple of minutes before he got to the front door of the strangest looking house he had ever been at. But he loved this house, and wouldn't change it for the world. He had only raised his hand to knock before the door was swung open.
The beaming face of an old, ginger woman greeted him. "Harry!" She smiled, holding out her arms.
Grinning, Harry hugged her. "Mrs Weasley."
The smell of something cooking enriched his nostrils and he embarrassingly heard his stomach gurgle.
Mrs Weasley held him at arm's length. "Oh, you poor thing, you looked starved! Let's get some food into you, come on! Inside."
The sound of shouts echoed down the long staircase, and as Harry walked down the oddly coloured carpet, he couldn't wipe the smile from his face. This was home.