Eighth Year (Drarry Fanfic)

End of the Road

Caught in the riptide
I was searching for the truth
There was a reason
I collided into you 

Calling your name in the midnight hour
Reaching for you from the endless dream
So many miles between us now
But you are always here with me

Nobody knows why
Nobody knows how
And this feeling begins just like a spark
Tossing and turning inside of your heart
Exploding in the dark

Oh, inside me
I find my way
Back to you

— Here with Me by Susie Suh

~oOo~

It was just a little past sunrise. The sky was the colour of burnished gold with the occasional sweep of gloomy gray. Harry frowned as he drifted in and out of sleep, shivering. The dorm room was freezing. The fireplace had sputtered out in the middle of the night, plunging the room in the chill of winter. Harry shifted, pulling the duvet closer around him, burrowing deeper into his bed. He slowly rolled over, flinging an arm onto the side where Draco usually slept and was met with cold sheets; the tingle of it sent frissons of unease skittering through Harry, giving rise to goose pimples.

It was quite the alarming wake up call. Draco never awoke before Harry, especially not on days when no classes were scheduled. The entire Friday had been left open for the staff and students to prepare for the Ball that evening. And come tomorrow, the Hogwarts Express would be taking them all back to London for Winter Holidays.

Kicking off the sheets, Harry sat bolt upright; the chill in the room completely forgotten, despite his lack of clothing.

There was no sign of Draco.

Ignoring the rising panic in his chest, Harry turned his attention towards the bathroom, listening for sounds. There was nothing but the deafening silence and his harsh breathing.

Harry hurriedly scrambled off the bed, sweeping his gaze around the room. He blinked, squinting in confusion. It took a moment for him to realise that he wasn't wearing his contact lenses; he had opted to use his spectacles the previous day. Whirling around, he located the blurry outline of his glasses sitting atop his night table. Quickly grabbing it, Harry shoved it unto his face, hard enough to probably leave a bruise, but he didn't even flinch. 

Steadying himself, he took another look about the room and immediately noticed that everything was back to their original state. There wasn't a single thing out of place. The space looked entirely too pristine and organised. Even the clothes he had discarded the previous night were now neatly folded and carefully placed atop his trunk. Whatever Harry's Magic had destroyed had been completely repaired.

Draco had restored everything and cleaned up their room. But what had Harry's stomach twisting into knots was the sudden absence of Draco's belongings. The Slytherin bed had been stripped of Draco's silk sheets. Draco's desk had been swept clean. It now stood empty as though it had never held Draco's books and parchments. Most telling of all was the absence of Draco's trunk. Harry knew that Draco's wardrobe and chest of drawers were empty. He had watched the blond pack his clothes the previous night.