𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 | drarry

The Boy In The Red Raincoat

Word Count: 8.1K (8139)

Harry was sitting on the bed in his room, or rather, Dudley's second bedroom, which he had been given to stay in whenever he came back to Privet Drive during the holidays. The reason he had been allowed this 'luxury' of a bedroom, besides the fact that he probably couldn't fit into the cupboard under the stairs now that he was almost seventeen and much taller, was because Uncle Vernon was still tetchy about Harry's supposed murderer godfather and fellow wizarding folk in general. The trauma of Dudley getting his tongue swollen to the size of a python three years ago remained fresh in the Dursleys' minds.

Harry was trying to read through his set books for next year— he had his Transfiguration book held up in front of him, disguised by a book jacket from one of Dudley's old books about dinosaurs. It was a sunny, hot Wednesday afternoon in early June, and all Harry wanted was to be left alone to read. He was thoroughly absorbed in the chapter about Animagus transformations when the doorbell sounded from downstairs, twice in succession, followed by urgent knocking on the door. Harry ignored it. The doorbell rang again, this time three times in a row.

"Harry!" Uncle Vernon bellowed from down the hall, sounding sleepy and irritated. "Go answer the door! We're sleeping!" The entire Dursley family was having their daily afternoon nap, and didn't take at all well to being disturbed.

There was impatient rapping on the door now— whoever the person was, he or she was being very persistent. Harry scowled as he put down his book and trudged down the stairs crossly. It was probably a salesman, or the postman— the Dursleys didn't have many friends, anyway. Harry reached the front door, unlatched the lock and opened it— his eyes widened, and his jaw dropped in shock.

"Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy was standing on the doorstep to 4 Privet Drive, looking very chagrined— and he was wearing a red raincoat, wrapped tightly around him as if it was the dead of winter instead of the heart of summer. His feet were shod with bright yellow boots, which altogether made him look like Paddington Bear. To Harry's surprise, Malfoy actually looked relieved to see him.

"Oh, good, I was afraid I remembered the address wrongly," Malfoy said, still holding the raincoat tightly closed down the front, looking mildly ridiculous in wet-weather wear under the sweltering hot sun.

Harry looked incredulous. "I'd say you definitely remembered the address wrongly!" He was still gawking at Malfoy. "What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy? This is a Muggle neighbourhood!"

Malfoy gave him a long-suffering look. "Do you think I don't know that? Listen, Potter, I'm in a bit of a fix and I need you to help me out a little."

"Why are you wearing a raincoat?" Harry asked curiously, letting his glance run up and down Draco's body. "And what's with the boots? It's hot as hell today, why are you dressed like that?"

Draco looked aggrieved. "This is exactly my problem, all right?" He glanced around behind him, then turned back to Harry. "Look, can you let me in? I'll explain when we're inside."

"No," Harry answered automatically, frowning at Malfoy. "You can't just waltz over and demand to be let in! You turn up at my doorstep dressed like an Eskimo in the desert, and you think I'm going to let you into the house without first knowing what's going on?"

Draco made an exasperated noise. "All right, all right, here's the thing." He leaned closer, and lowered his voice, "I've been studying Apparition on my own during the vacation— and I tried to Apparate just now, to see if I can do it. Well, something went slightly wrong, and instead of Diagon Alley I ended up in some filthy old shed on Dias Avenue, which is just down the road from here." Draco looked very stressed. "And that's not the worst part."