BLIND SIGHT - drarry

Ch. eight

It had been almost four months since Draco disappeared, and Harry was no closer to finding him than he had been that first day. He knew the blond was in the Muggle world, but that wasn't enough.

Harry idly played with the small charm he wore on a silver chain around his neck. Inside was a lock of Draco's hair. According to everything Harry read this would cool down when Draco cast a spell. It had taken two weeks to make, but if it helped him find the other boy, it was worth the time. Unfortunately, the charm just grew warmer under the constant pressure of his fingers.

Harry brought himself back to the present with a slight shake. He was at dinner with the Weasley's and though they would understand why he might be staring off into the distance, it was still rude.

Things were tense enough as it was. As a surprise to his parents, Charlie had popped in and spent the entire week-end with his family and staring at Harry with mixed sympathy and contempt.

When the second oldest Weasley had announced his decision to move to America a few weeks prior, Harry asked him if he really wanted to leave his profession.

Charlie had joked that there were dragons in America too.

After dinner, Charlie retired with his parents to the living room, and as part of long habit, Harry cleared the table, stacking the dishes in the kitchen for Mrs. Weasley to spell clean later.

Running a damp rag over the weathered wood grain to gather the last few scattered crumbs, he overheard snatches of conversation, but didn't really pay attention. He heard a muttered, "Draco—, "and perked up his ears, but then his mobile rang and he had to go outside to answer it, the magic in the Burrow turning an otherwise strong connection to static.

"Hey Harry," Dudley 's surprisingly gentle voice rumbled down the lines.

Before the war, Harry had the chance to resolve things with the Dursleys. They were the only blood family he had, and it seemed a waste to go into what could be his death without one last try.

Harry invited them to dinner at a mid-priced Muggle restaurant, and surprisingly they accepted. It was a strained meal, but they got through it cordially. His aunt Petunia may have given her family a bit of a hint of the seriousness of events because when the end of the meal came she gave Harry a small, stiff-armed hug, and her husband shook Harry's hand, once.

Dudley offered his hand, but when Harry took it, he was pulled into a one-armed, back-slapping hug and his cousin whispered, "We're family, Harry. Weird, but family. You'll be fine and we'll talk again."

It was strange, to say the least.

After that Harry was plunged into battle, locating and destroying the horcruxes and fighting Voldemort. He hadn't the time to remember Dudley 's offer, much less try to contact the boy.

After his recovery, and Draco's disappearance, Harry ran into Dudley in a shopping mall. For the first time in his life, Dudley noticed his cousin's condition and urged Harry to rest, to eat something and pull himself together before he collapsed.

Since then they had talked fairly regularly. And while Harry might never have a true bond with his aunt and uncle, he felt like he really had family now.

"Hey Dud."

"Have mum and dad called you yet?"

"No, why would they?"

"Thought they'd say thanks at least. Mum's a stickler, she might send a card."

"Don't worry about it. What's up? Did you have fun?"

"Once we got there. They're beautiful—"

"The girls," Harry smiled. Dudley had become a bit of a skirt-chaser.

"Those too. And the beaches. It was a disaster getting there, though."

Harry settled on the grass and leaned back against the fence, "Why?"

"Dad."

Harry sighed, "What happened?"

"Bloody hell, Harry. He got nervous and airsick on the first flight, so he thought a few drinks might help him relax. That was fine because he managed to sleep through the second leg, even though he was snoring so loud everyone else on the plane was awake. Then, on the third flight he assaulted someone. I thought we were going to get kicked off at thirty thousand feet."

Laughing, Harry said, "I can't believe Uncle Vernon attacked someone. He's always been a bit of a blowhard, no offense, but to hit someone?"

Dudley laughed, "Well, he didn't hit him, just shook him. And the entire time he's insisting the guy is drunk and demanding he open his eyes."

Harry laughed, hollowly, that last bit sounded too familiar.

Dudley went on, "And on top of that he was blind. My dad beat up a blind kid on a plane. We could have caused an international incident."

Dudley was laughing, Harry cut in, "Blind? What did he look like?"

"Sorry, Harry, I was asleep most of the time, didn't get too much detail. It straightened dad out though. He muttered the rest of the flight but he behaved himself. Listen, I have to go, but just wanted to let you know we had a great time. Hawaii was all I dreamed it would be. Even mum had a blast. Talk to you later, Harry."

Harry felt his mouth opening and closing silently. It was too much of a coincidence.

Draco would never go to Hawaii , though the image of him on a white beach was tempting. Harry wondered if the Slytherin boy would get tan, or stay delicately pale.

Would his silvery-grey eyes pick up the deep blue of the oce—

Harry shook himself firmly, driving the last threads of fantasy away.

Draco wasn't in Hawaii .

Snapping the little phone closed sharply, he tucked it away in his jeans pocket and went back inside, his free hand idly fiddling with the small charm around his neck.