Boy Who Never Grew Up

Grim Grinning Ghosts

Sun broke through the canopy of the leaves. They were sturdy for a roof that could collapse at any second Draco thought last night. It looked sewed together by the finest seamstress because no thread could be spotted even with a microscope. The small holes the leaves created made an amazing leopard effect on the ground. Spots and splatters of light danced and danced in the club, Harry and Draco being the only sober things of light in the room.

Somehow, they ended with Harry and Draco curled into each other, face to face. For once since that incident, Draco had a deep night's sleep. His thoughts slowed like a beautiful carousel on a starry night. Every thought, good or bad, dancing as ribbons from a kite string that reached for the sky. Its colours embracing those lofty heights and inviting in the dreams that wear festival costumes and are formed of music.

Not wanting the moment to end, Draco re-closed his eyes, focusing on the shallow breathing of the other boy and the forest smell that he tried to tangibly pull closer like a fluffy blanket on Christmas Eve in front of a log fire and a decorative tree.

It was a mere two seconds after his eyes closed that he was being nudged at, at his temple by Harry's nose. "Draco, get up." He whispered soundly, words more pulchritudinous than the twitter of birds or whistle of an owl. The blonde pretended to still be asleep, throwing his arm over Harry and pulling them closer together. Even through the night wear Harry was wearing, he could feel some form of structure, but the fabric was too thick.

He felt the boy smile into his hair, an arm wind around him to stroke gently at his exposed shoulder. "Come on Draco, I want to take you exploring." But Draco was tempted to pretend to sleep the entire day if he could stay in that embrace. It was like hugging a giant teddy!

There was no knock at the door, just it being almost blown open. "Harry!" It was Neville, paralysed with fear and shaking within his voice.
"What? What's happened?" Harry asked, detaching himself from Draco to rush for clothes. At that moment, Draco wanted to tell whatever was wrong to fix itself because he was just at complete bliss!

"The Dementors, they're getting to the Mermaids!" Neville stuttered, and whatever these dementor creatures were, Draco knew they had to be bad because even Harry's face paled slightly.

"Set off the alarm." At the command, Neville ran out the door, "And tell Gin or Luna to alert the pixies!" Right on cue, a fiery orb zoomed into the room, through a small gap in the leaves. They started talking in a... weird language. It was like high pitched squeaking sounds, but not obnoxiously high pitched to the point Draco wanted to mute them both.

"Ginny! Good timing; we need you to get your soldiers to the Black Lake, code Black." Harry told Draco afterwards who was still in bed watching as Harry became a commanding officer. "Put some clothes on, and do not follow us, it isn't safe." There was a pleading to his voice that made Draco's heart melt. With a small nod, Harry dashed from the room, the orb of sweltering red in pursuit.

When Draco stood up, he went to the wardrobe that was carved into the side of the tree. He thought this place must be enlarged by some form of magic for a tree to be that big and spacious. In there were outfits of every flavour and colour (as long as that colour could be made/found in Neverland). There was some clothing from the muggle world that Draco was more inclined to wear, but he thought of today like a formal dress code for a party- you have to follow it.

0o0

The day before...

"I despise doing this to him Narcissa." Lucius said for the hundredth time that night. They were in their martial bed, discussing their sons sixteenth birthday. Thank the gods that Maria Zabini and Paseaus Parkinson used to be on Neverland, because otherwise they wouldn't know their way around the world.

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were both born and raised Muggle, but that was in the early eighteenth century. Lucius came from a rich family, but he was betrothed to his cousin who he despised and, it was incest. Although not uncommon at the time, he certainly did not want to partake in it. In actual fact, he had fallen for the wonderful Narcissa Black, who was betrothed to a man called James Cranmore.

It was just their luck, that they had a mutual person in their lives: Bellatrix. She was as insane as her name was weird. And she had visions of a place where you don't age, where the trees are always green, people fly in the sky, dark glowing orbs flutter, and an attractive man with curling dark hair, pale skin and hypnotizing red eyes rules over. Well, Narcissa said it was just a pipe dream. That was until someone with that exact description, in hauntingly raunchy, dark leather clothing appeared in their area. He claimed to be of a land being over thrown by glowing light orbs and The Native Locals.

But it was not the fantasy land Narcissa and Lucius had dreamt.

Being an aristocrat family in the early 21st century, meant that Draco's had to follow the rules: which Lucius and Narcissa disagreed with. They didn't want Draco to be in an arranged marriage, they didn't want him to not be able to be himself.

Because of that, they decided that night that he will not be married to a woman, but a man of his choosing. Even though Draco hadn't told them, they knew their little boy didn't look at girls the way he looked at men. And that was okay to them.

Just as the two went to his bedroom to check on how him and his best friends were, they heard the window clang against the outer edge of the house. Lucius screamed, shoving the door off its hinges, and he was right to do so.

Blobs in the distance, he made the head of blonde hair much like his own, just a lot shorter... and red robes. Harry Potter.

"NO! DRACO!" His voice cracked harshly, hand reaching out like he could grab the blonde boy and pull him into a secure embrace.

"Lucius." Her voice whispered, twisted in her teary eyes. He went over to her with weak legs, like he was carrying an Egyptian pyramid on his back. The torn-out piece of paper was something from Draco journal- that Lucius did know he had, despite his son's beliefs.

"He isn't coming back." She sobbed, holding the page to her heart tightly.
He looped an arm around her shoulder, pulling his loving wife into a tight embrace as he cried into her hair. "We have to have hope, Cissa... he will return, in his own time."