Samsara's Curse (Drarry Slowburn)

THE CIRCLE KEY

Despite them both being considerably tired, Harry didn't sleep that night. He couldn't. He spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking about what the Forked Key and Circle Key could possibly lead to. Merry hadn't mentioned their purpose, so he was left to speculate into the wee hours of the morning.

At around 2 am, Draco growled at him, "Pick a side!" and Harry stilled, staring at the star-spangled canopy, motionless. He gave up on trying to fall asleep, at that point.

-x-

Draco was jolted out of his dreams by Harry, who had the audacity to wake him by jumping on the bed, shouting, "We have things to do and places to see!"

"The only place I care to see is the back of my eyelids," Draco groaned. He really wasn't a morning person.

Harry slid off the bed and ran to part the curtains, allowing the morning sun to fill the bedroom. Draco pulled the covers over his head, not having any of it.

"Oh, come on—don't be like that," Harry said, gently peeling the duvet from Draco's face. "Rise and shine!"

"How the fuck are you so bubbly at eight in the morning?" Draco hissed, squinting his eyes in the bright light.

The answer was quite simple, really. "I had an energy drink," Harry replied matter-of-factly.

With Draco fast asleep, he had a surplus amount of time to drop by the convenience store. Originally, Harry wanted to see if anywhere close sold black waterproof gloves, but he ended up just ordering a pair online. Anticipating that his lack of sleep would catch up with him eventually, Harry picked up a pick-me-up while he was in downtown London.

"Oh, Merlin." As if you need more energy, Draco thought sardonically.

Harry continued, correcting the Slytherin's previous presumption, "And it's not eight; it's ten."

Draco shoved his face into the pillow, muffling his voice, "Whatever!"

"Don't make me drag you out of bed," Harry warned.

Draco just tossed over and grunted, trying his best to drift back into slumber.

"Alright. You asked for it," Harry said. He grabbed Draco by the waist, yanking him off the mattress like it was nothing. The Slytherin yelped in protest as he was thrown back onto the plush bed. Not expecting this demonstration of such physical prowess, Draco was speechless and—to Harry's satisfaction—wide awake.

Part of him wanted to tell Harry never to do that again, but the other half was perfectly fine with being thrown like he weighed nothing.

Harry didn't really give him time to form a response. He sprinted across the room to Samsara's key keepsake box (a keypsake, if you will) and shuffled through the selection before bringing four keys to Draco, splayed out like a hand of cards, "Pick a key! Any key!"

Draco picked the Grave Key.

"Not that one," Harry said, allowing him a second try.

Draco frowned and selected the Spear Key—Hermione's key.

"Not that one either." Harry began to shuffle the Forked Key higher than all the others.

Rolling his eyes, Draco picked the Forked Key.

"Great choice!" Harry said with the cadence of a showman. "I've been dying to find out where the portal goes."

Draco's gray eyes flickered at Harry's enthusiasm, "Is that why you couldn't sleep last night?"

Harry climbed back onto the bed, urging Draco out of it, "The anticipation is killing me!"

"What if it leads to a former village?" Draco ventured cautiously. "That place is probably crawling with Muggles now. It would breach the Statute of Secrecy if they saw us."