By The Light Of A Dying Flame ~ Drarry Fanfic

Chapter 19: Harry

Harry was almost certainly going insane.

It was bound to happen sooner or later. He couldn't have experienced this much trauma in his seventeen years of life and not developed a few unhealthy coping mechanisms. He just never imagined worrying incessantly about Draco Malfoy's welfare would be one of them. Although, he'd always had a bit of an obsession with whatever the hell was going on in the Slytherin's head, at least according to Hermione. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

He found himself watching Malfoy constantly, as if he were a source of light and Harry's eyeballs were idiotic moths. He watched Malfoy read in the armchair, staring at him over the top of his own book (of which he hadn't absorbed a single word). He watched Malfoy pour himself another cup of tea (his fifth), carefully scooping in only half a spoonful of sugar before bringing the cup to his lips and taking a delicate sip. He watched Malfoy stare at his hawthorn wand, held in both hands, head bent over it as if he were in prayer.

While Harry couldn't bring himself to care that Lucius Malfoy was dead, something kept tugging at his chest, at the way Malfoy seemed hollowed out, the way his mouth was twisted into a shape far different from his signature sneer. Maybe he didn't care about Lucius' death, but he did care about what it was doing to Malfoy.

So, of course, he must be going insane.

Harry was seated on the front stoop, his back against the doorway, a book open on his knees. While he mindlessly turned pages, his eyes were fixed on Malfoy at the bottom of the hill. He was pacing slowly back and forth, his own gaze either cast out over the horizon or downward, towards his wand. He seemed to be muttering something to himself, and Harry had never taken Malfoy for the religious sort, but he was discovering plenty of unexpected things about his childhood nemesis.

Harry watched this pattern of trudging and mumbling (prayer?) repeat over and over for nearly an hour before he couldn't take it any longer. His blood was buzzing, that same desire to fucking do something that always seemed to be close at hand coursing through his body. He snapped shut the book and tossed it onto the step before making his way down the hill. Malfoy petered to a stop as he drew closer, glaring at Harry as if he were disturbing his meditation. "Can't get the Patronus down?" Harry asked mildly, his hands shoved into his pockets. Malfoy continued to glare at him, his silver eyes narrowed and pointed chin tucked into his chest. "Maybe you should take a break," he suggested.

"And do what?" Malfoy shoved the wand behind his ear, his pale curls tumbling across his forehead. "Go for a stroll in the village? A hike in the hills over there, maybe? Or I could pretend to read like you've been doing all afternoon."

Harry rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop the blush that spread across the dark skin of his face. "I saw a wizard's chess set upstairs," he said, his shoulders rising to meet his ears. "We could play?"

Something cold flashed across Malfoy's face, but it passed too quickly for Harry to decipher. He took a moment to respond, before shrugging his own shoulders and marching past Harry, up toward the cottage. "Prepare to be destroyed, Potter," he said.

Harry followed him inside and up the stairs, waiting by the bed while he lifted the miniscule board off the mantle. Malfoy tapped it with the tip of his wand, and it expanded into a normal sized set, which he placed on the bed next to Harry. "Black or white?" he asked.

"White."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Of course," he said, flopping onto the bed, the pieces rattling on the board. "Your move, then."

Harry sat down, curling his legs beneath him and resting his elbows on his knees. "Pawn to E4."

The small pawn popped out tiny legs and scuttled forward before plopping back down on the square. Malfoy's mouth curved into a smug smile as his coin-bright eyes surveyed the board. "Pawn to C5," he said, and his pawn moved forward, a surprisingly menacing growl emanating from the tiny piece as it settled back down.