Blackberry Jam (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Seven

June 5th 1941

"Over here Harry!" Neville Longbottom, one of the local children, called as Harry thwacked the football with his right foot, sending it flying to his teammate. He laughed, feeling the sweat running down his neck and soaking into his shirt, crying out as Neville passed to Seamus Finnigan, narrowly getting by Dean Thomas to score against the other team's waiting goal keeper.

"WOOHOO!" Harry cheered, pumping his fist in the air. It was only an informal match they had thrown together after school had finished for the day, but just because it wasn't as serious as the matches he used to play with his team back home (the Central London Lions) didn't mean he wasn't still keen on winning. "Good work chaps!"

He looked around to see if Draco was watching, but he was still stubbornly sat on the grass at the edge of their makeshift pitch, focused firmly on the book on his lap and the notepad by his knee. Harry sighed. He would never have thought there would be a single soul who would volunteer for extra schoolwork, however Draco had refused to let his Latin studies slip simply because there was no teacher to be had in Little Whinging. So his mother posted him work to do from his old tutor, which Draco would complete and then send back in the already stamped envelope his mother also provided.

It was positively barmy, however Harry couldn't help but also think it was a little wonderful. Draco was different in so many ways, but Harry liked all the strange things about him, every new detail he learned important to him for reasons he wasn't entirely sure of.

He was soon distracted by the ball zipping about the grass again, but in the back of his mind he continued to muse on his time with Draco over the past several months.

In the beginning it had been odd, getting used to sharing not only a room but a bed with another person. But funnily enough, knowing Draco would always be to his right, a solid presence beside him, meant Harry slept better than he ever had in the last year or so in London. If he dreamed of the bombs, all he had to do was shift and feel the other weight on the mattress, and he would know before he was even fully awake that he was no longer in any danger.

It was more than that though – Draco was not just proof he was out of London and away from the Blitz, as such reasoning suggested anyone could take his place. Harry liked his new friend's quiet contemplation, his interesting ideas and the utterly brilliant games he concocted to play in Mrs Figg's small garden together, or out in the street with the other children. He fathomed worlds of dragons and worlds in the stars, and when the other boys would pat him on the back and tell him how bloody marvellous he was, Harry would feel pride like they were being kind directly to him.

In the dark, they would whisper little stories from their old lives, sometimes secrets Harry had never told anyone, not even Ron, like the time his horrid cousin had broken his glasses on purpose, so Harry had found some dog's mess to wrap in a box to leave for him on his door. Draco had laughed until he'd cried at that one, and even though Harry knew if his mum ever found out he'd be in the worse trouble of his life, he couldn't help but feel it was worth it as Draco hugged him and howled with mirth into his neck.

Harry liked talking with Draco more than anyone, but today he'd barely strung two words together, not even in his favourite classes where he was normally the first to answer all the teacher's questions. Harry looked over again, and began to wonder if there was something actually wrong with his chum. Draco had begged off with belly-ache earlier, but perhaps that wasn't it?

Just as he decided to go and see if he had changed his mind and wanted to play football (Draco never played. Harry thought he wanted to, but for some reason always declined) Draco slapped his book shut, picked it and his papers up, and stood to march off. He would normally never leave without waiting for Harry, or at least telling him, but Harry stopped running after the ball as he watched Draco trudge off, shoulders tense and face down.