the miracle of us || drarry

04 | inigo

Harry pulled his coat over his shirt, careful not to make any noise.

It was 4:00 A.M., the sun was not yet out and Harry was sure (not sure, but hoping) Draco was still asleep.

Harry had been summoned to go to a trial for someone, and apparently it was an important trial, otherwise he wouldn't have to be at work at 5:30.

He buttoned his coat and reached for his wand. When he straightened up, he heard scuffles outside his room, and smiled to himself.

"Draco," he called. "You okay there?"

He heard silence, and then the blonde emerged from the darkness, his pale face a contrast to the black background.

He looked almost like a lost child, and this seemed amusing to Harry, considering how much taller Draco was than him.

"What's up?" Harry smiled.

"Where are you going?"

The Auror raised his eyebrows. "Uh, I have a case that I was summoned to. Really early in the morning. It's a matter of Azkaban or no Azkaban. So it's pretty important."

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Finally, Harry asked what he had wanted to ask since he heard Draco. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't fall asleep again."

Harry shot a sympathetic look at him. "Nightmares?"

"Bad ones. At least I didn't wake up screaming this time."

Harry laughed. "Seriously, though, Draco, you should go back to sleep."

"Really? There's no way I could fall back asleep now," Draco says, taking the chance to look around the room as Harry got ready. It didn't look much different than the day he had intruded.

"Alright, well, I guess we're just gonna have to keep you occupied until I get back," Harry said, before grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him into the living room.

"Anything you made a hobby of?"

Draco thought for a second, his brow scrunched. Finally, he said, "Drawing."

Harry was, to put it mildly, surprised by this. He waited for something more, but when the silence stretched on, he repeated, "Drawing?"

"Yeah. Like, pencil on paper. Making shapes-"

"I know what drawing is, thanks, Draco," Harry said, sarcasm thick in his voice. "Just surprised you'd be into art, that's all."

"What, just because I'm Slytherin, means I can't be good at art?"

"I never said you weren't good at it, I only said I didn't think you'd be into it."

"Well," Draco huffed. "I am."

Harry gave a sarcastic smile, before pulling up a chair to a small desk. He set on the desk a couple of thin papers, an eraser, and a pencil.

"There you go," declared Harry. "Your art station."

"Ha-ha," Draco said mockingly. But he was glad to have something to do that didn't include staring off into the distance reminiscing about the past.

He sat at the desk, and picked up the pencil. Although his hands still slightly trembled, when he was drawing he was at ease. He let the creative flow take over, and soon he was allowing the pencil to naturally glide over the paper. An image formed in his head, and nothing mattered to him in the moment except to create that image on paper.