𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐆𝐨

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐗

Just as I'd anticipated, May came around much quicker than I would've liked; and not without the memories and flashbacks associated with it.

On the thirtieth of April, I woke up early and without noise, immediately locking myself in the bathroom connected to the dorm. I couldn't let Draco see me like that—anxious and weary—when he was dealing with the trauma of his own. I looked in the mirror for a long time, contemplating the choices I'd made and why I chose them, contemplating whether or not they were the best ones.

On the first of May, it was a Saturday; therefore no classes. Draco seemed to catch on to the fact that I had distanced myself from him, though, he didn't realize that he was one of many. He had woken up earlier that morning, trying to catch me in the act of slipping away, but I was already gone.

The second of May came like a punch in my gut and a blow to the head, knocking the wind completely out of my system. I felt breathless. I shut myself away in the bathroom again, but this time, I didn't look in the mirror. I couldn't. And I couldn't have Draco see me cry.

I knew that he was right outside the doorway the whole time, listening to the muffled sobs hidden in my towel as the sink ran steadily in the back of my mind.

I had heard the shuffling of him sliding down the door and to the floor, and I didn't hear it again until I heard his voice along with it.

"Harry, please come out now."

I ignored him. I hastily balled the damp towel and shoved it deep within the hamper.

"Hey," Draco said softly with a light knock on the doorframe.

I splashed my face with cold water, rubbing the unfiltered minerals into my eyes before shutting off the faucet and hovering over the sink.

"Harry." Draco persisted, "Don't hide. I can take it."

I let one last cry escape from my throat without my permission. I used the hand towel to wipe my face and flung the door open.

Draco stumbled back against my feet, quickly standing and gaining his balance.

"Harry."

"Draco."

"You look like shit."

"I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" asked Draco. "Of the past?"

"I'm scared that it wasn't all just a dream. That it actually happened to us. That all those people are actually dead," I whispered. I didn't quite have the energy to talk properly, but Draco leaned in close and listened to every word I had to say without asking me to repeat myself.

"What do you mean?"

I sighed, a small tear pooling in the corner of my eye.

"It's all the same," I tried to explain, not seeming to be able to find the right words, "Hogwarts, the Burrow, everything. It all looks just the way it did before. It's like the war never happened. Nothing's changed. Only the people. And when I look around at them or speak to them, it's a reminder of everything that I wished never happened."

Draco stared into my eyes with an expression that I assumed was sympathy—or something close to it—I had never seen that look on Draco before.

"I think that was the point," Draco told me, "to try to make people forget."

"But that just seems wrong!" I said, exasperated at my own confusion.

"What? You want to dwell on it forever?"

"No!" I threw my hands up in the air, wishing that I could explain the feeling within me in a way that would make people understand. "I just wish it never happened!"

I was crying at this point, freely. I didn't like it, and I wanted it to stop, but I didn't have the will power to let my eyes drown in the water that needed to escape.

"How are you not upset?" I asked Draco in the most audible voice I could manage. "How is this all not bothering you?"

Draco place a hand on my arm and caressed it gently. "Of course I'm upset. But I've been upset long enough, and you seem to need someone who's stable right now."

I shook my head, trying to pull away from his touch. "No, no, no. Don't do this. I don't want you to hold in your feelings just because you think I can't handle it."

"Oh, I know you can handle it," Draco scoffed,
"You've handled it all bloody year. All i'm saying is that this time, I want to help you. And I need you to let me."

I couldn't take it anymore. I let myself collapse in his arms, holding me tight. He held me a while, and I fell apart for all the time I've been holding together the breaking pieces.

It was all so much. So much emotion. Too much. The overwhelm was unbearable, the knowing, and not being able to do.

Dead. So many people who I'd loved—dead.

Those people had saved me. I hoped they knew that. Cedric, Sirius, Remus, Fred. All in their own ways.

"It's alright, love," Draco cooed. "It's alright now."

I kept crying.

I didn't stop. Not until my eyes ran themselves dry and everything was without feeling. My breathing slowed to an average rate, along with my heartbeat. My back ceased it's trembling, and my head rested heavily on Draco's steady shoulder.

"Let's take a walk," he said.

***

"I don't see the point of this," I grumbled. "It's mucky."

I hastily lifted my boot from the mud with a squelch, showing off the watery brown sludge just to prove my point.

"It's fresh air. Forget the muck," Draco pulled on my hand, forcing me to continue forwards.

A light mist dampened our hair and clothing, my jumper becoming dusted with little droplets of water, Draco's hand slipping against mine.

"I miss the snow," I said, once we had stopped to look out at the Black Lake.

Draco looked at me. "How come you like the snow so much?" he asked.

I didn't answer for a moment, trying to think of the real reason. I told myself that it was because all of my greatest memories this year happened in the snow; but I wondered if there was a deeper reason.

I suppose, after spending so long in secluded areas with a weighing stress and anger-inducing Horcrux, the little nice things tend to go unnoticed.

Like snow.

Plus, it reminded me of Draco.

"It's pretty," was all I said.

I knew that my answer wasn't good enough, and certainly not for Draco. But he didn't question it any farther.

"Let's sit a while, yeah?"

Draco pulled me down to the base of a large tree into his lap. I tensed at the sudden confined contact, but when he slid his palm to my forehead, pressing tenderly on my scar, and pushed the back of my head to his chest, I was able to relax.

He kissed the crown of my head. I closed my eyes and stopped thinking.

Dead.

I was back in the forest. There were so many people there, but I was all alone.

I saw no faces in which I recognized, just empty bodies with a lost purpose.

I was supposed to be the hero. I was supposed to save them. That was my job, it was what I was born to do. Was it not?

If it was, then why were they dead? Why did I get here so late?

Why couldn't I have been just a little bit quicker?

"Draco?" I tried to whisper, but it was more of a gasp.

My head still rested comfortably in his chest, his fingers over my eyes, shielding them from the dim day light.

"You're fine. Go back to sleep."

"No, I–"

"I know," he whispered in reassurance, "But it's all okay now."

"It's been so long," I wasn't sure if he could hear me anymore, "Since that happened. I hate it."

"Go to sleep, Harry. It will be okay this time. I'm right here."

***

I could feel it in the mornings. And at night. When the sky clouds over and it rains. When the rain freezes into snow.

I love him. Something that I used to hate the most about myself.

But it was something that never changed.

It didn't matter if he was happy, or angry or doused in dripping melancholy sadness, or if I was.

I loved him.

"Draco?"

He hummed as we made our way back up to the castle, the sun beginning to fall over the mountains.

"Can we do something before we go back to the common room?" I asked.

"What is it?"

"I need to speak with someone," I said.

He quirked an eyebrow, "Who?"

"Someone in Gryffindor."

"Do you know where they are?"

"In the Gryffindor common room."

We walked up the stone steps in the courtyard into the Entrance Hall. I looked around to make sure no one was there.

"Can't they come out?" asked Draco.

"Er– not really. They're sort of well... immobilized?"

"Immobilized?" Draco raised his eyebrow again.

I nodded in confirmation, even through I knew he didn't understand.

"Can I ask who this person may be?"

I glanced one last time in all directions—just to be sure—before grabbing his hand and pulling him along to the Gryffindor common room.

"You can come, if you'd like."

Once we arrived to the Fat Lady's portrait, I stoped and forced him to as well. He looked around confused for a moment, but went along with it anyways.

"Pilosus Figulus," I said rushed.

It was dinner time at the moment, and most—if not all—of the students were piled into the Great Hall. I needed to do this fast before they all came back.

"Pardon me?" the Fat Lady said.

"Pilosus Figulus," I repeated.

"Hm. Haven't heard that one in a while," she laughed rather loudly, "I am rather clever, aren't I?" She looked to Draco for confirmation, until she looked more intently at his face. "You're not a Gryffindor, are you, deary?"

He stuttered over his words for a moment before I filled in.

"Doesn't matter. We need in."

"No password, no entry," she insisted.

"That's bullshit," I said, "I had the password last  time, and you would budge."

"I recall no such thing," she put on her most innocent face, but I knew she was lying. Anyone could see she was lying.

"Can you let us in anyways?" I persisted. "It's important."

Draco nudged my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Harry, what's so important that you need in anyways? Clearly, she's not letting us through."

I ignored him and kept bargaining with the Fat Lady. "Can I have a clue at least? I am technically still a Gryffindor."

"No can do, Mister Boy-Who-Forgot-to-Die," she snickered and rolled her eyes.

Beside me, Draco's head perked up, as he appeared to be thinking hard about something.

"Puer qui oblitus est mori," he said, staring directly at the Fat Lady.

A shocked look overtook her expression, her mouth falling into an 'o' shape as she stared back at Draco. "How did you know?" she said, aghast.

"You told us," he responded plainly.

She rolled her eyes again at us, less playfully this time, but she opened her portrait nevertheless.

"He may not enter," she sneered at him. "I won't allow it. I'm already breaking the rules for you."

"That's fine," Draco said, but to me, "I can wait out here, yeah? You do what you've got to do."

I nodded, walking through the hole and heading straight for the person I came looking for.

"Harry!" he called to me. "Finally! Ginny said you might be back, but I was beginning to loose hope." 

"Fred."

"What's happing in the good ol' outside world?"

"Not a lot, actually. But to me, there is. I don't have much time, but that's what I wanted to talk to you about," I explained.

"Sure, sure," he grinned at me," Talk away."

I nodded, a little nervous. This was the first time I was telling someone about this, and I had wanted it to be the right person. Someone I could trust, someone who wouldn't tell a soul.

"I'm in love."

His flaming eyebrows shot up to his hairline, ginning at me in a way that would look like a smirk if you didn't know him well enough.

"Love, you say? Who's the lucky lady?"

I sighed, "Not female."

His eyebrows lowered, his expression faltering, but only slightly. I could see that he was trying to understand, and except what I had just told him. Hoping that what he said next would be the right thing.

"Alrighty. Bloke then."

I smiled, relieved. Fred was certainly the right person to tell. As much as it hurt me to think about, he was a much better option than Ron or Hermione.

"Bloke," I repeated.

"Who is he? Have I got anyone to give the 'if you dare hurt my little brother...' lecture to?" he asked in his playful tone.

Little brother. That made me want to cry all over again.

"No, no. I just needed to tell someone. And he doesn't want Ron or Hermione to know yet... They wouldn't exactly be very happy at who he is."

"But you want to tell me?" he asked for confirmation.

I nodded again, hastily wiping my sweaty hands over my trousers.

"Well?"

"Don't be mad..."

"I promise, little bro."

"Draco Malfoy."

Fred didn't say anything for a moment. I found it difficult to read his expression. He wasn't angry, nor confused, nor shocked even.

After a while, he said to me with a laugh and a shake of the head, "Ooh, you wanker."

I laughed too. More in relief than anything. How was I supposed to know that he would take it so well?

In all honesty, I had gone in there expecting the worst. Even from Fred.

"So. You love that slimy little snake then?" he asked, still cheerily.

"Yes. He means a lot to me."

"I'm glad for you, Harry. To be honest, I had a feeling that you and Ginny weren't quite right for each other. Wasn't sure why, but I guess, now I know."

He looked at me with such care in his eyes. Pride, even. He looked proud of me.

"I liked Ginny too, I think," I said, "I just like Draco more.

He grinned down at me from his frame. "It's good," he said, "It's good that he makes you happy. We've all missed that."

Just then, I took a glance at the clock. To my dismay, dinner was ending now, and there would be various Gryffindors piling back into their common room in no time.

"I've got to go, Fred. I'm sorry, thank you. I'll see you soon," I rushed out, before hurrying out the door.

Draco was waiting for me, a little smile forming on his face when he saw me again.

"How'd it–"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence when I kissed him, and kissed him hard.

It was probably the most engaged kiss that we'd ever shared at that point, being fast paced and deep and pleasurable. I bit his lip, and he bit mine. I rubbed my hands on his neck and up through his hair. His hands went down my back and farther.

We didn't notice the Fat Lady standing in her frame behind us.

We didn't notice Goyle stood frozen in his tracks at the end of the corridor.