Hide and Seek

Chapter 8

Several more days passed before they finally drank the whisky. On the day that it finally did happen, Draco had woken to the sound of rain pelting against the window. He pulled the warm quilt under his chin and watched the raindrops trickle down the window pane in little rivers before pooling on the window ledge. Although he'd slept well, he'd woken up in a terrible mood. He missed sleeping in his own bed, and he missed drinking tea in the morning while reading the Daily Prophet. Draco had begged Harry to have the newspaper delivered, so that they could keep track of what was happening in the world, but he had refused. He said that it was too risky having an owl flying back and forth from the property. But as much as Draco missed his creature comforts, there was something—or, more accurately, someone—that he missed more than all of those things combined. More than anything else, he missed Pansy.

Poor Pansy. No doubt she'd be at her wit's end worrying about him. Draco wondered what the Ministry would say to her, if she hadn't already reported him missing. Would they reassure her that he was safe, or would they simply feign ignorance and pretend that they had no idea where he was? Regardless, she would be absolutely furious with Draco for keeping her in the dark about all of this. She was his best friend, after all. He'd have to buy her a very large gin and tonic to make up for it when he got home.

If he ever got home.

Draco groaned as he rolled out of bed. His body was still aching from his tussle in the pond with the Kappa. Harry had offered him some painkillers, but Draco had declined; he was dubious about the effectiveness of primitive Muggle medicine. After a lukewarm shower (he silently cursed Harry for using up all of the hot water again), Draco picked out his clothes for the day, some black jeans and a cashmere sweater. Not that it really mattered what he wore, it wasn't like he could go anywhere. By the time Draco stomped downstairs, it was late in the afternoon. Still, he expected to find Harry standing at his usual spot by the living room window, sipping his coffee. But he wasn't there.

Curious, Draco shuffled into the kitchen. He was surprised to find Harry sitting at the kitchen table, his back to Draco and his head hung low. Draco wondered for a moment if he had fallen asleep at the table, but as he stepped closer, he realised that Harry was reading a piece of parchment. Draco's first thought was that it was a correspondence from Robards, but the paper looked tattered and torn. Draco didn't announce his arrival. Instead, he silently moved closer and peeked over Harry's shoulder to get a look at the parchment.

Dear Padfoot, it read. Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favourite by far. One year old and already zooming along—

Harry slapped his palm over the letter and pulled it under the table out of sight. "Has nobody ever told you to mind your own business, Malfoy?"

"If it's from Robards, then I have a right to know what it says," said Draco coolly.

"It's not from Robards." Harry folded up the letter and tucked it into the mokeskin pouch that he kept around his neck.

"Then who is it from?"

"None of your business."

Draco held his hands up in mock surrender and backed away, but his curiosity was piqued now. He grabbed a clean glass from one of the cupboards and poured himself a drink of water from the tap. "Was it from your aunt and uncle?"

Harry looked up sharply at Draco. "What?"

"The letter," he said casually. "Was it from your aunt and uncle? They're Muggles, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are Muggles. No, the letter isn't from them." Harry rose to his feet and exited the kitchen without further explanation.

Draco followed him into the living room. Harry was standing at his usual spot by the window, his arms crossed and leaning against the wall, staring out at the fields surrounding the remote little cottage as the rain poured even heavier. One thing that Draco had quickly learned about Harry was that he was not a morning person. But it was now late in the afternoon; usually his mood had perked up a little after he had a couple cups of coffee. Today, however, he seemed to be more sullen than usual. Draco mirrored Harry by leaning on the wall on the opposite side of the window.