A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Forty-Six

Harry demands to pay for Blaise's sweets. He actually doesn't even give Draco an option. He gives the blond a mischievous grin and tosses a Silencio towards his face discreetly, so when they get to the register, all Draco can do is fume and smile tightly at the elderly woman behind the counter.

Which, she doesn't even bat an eye in his direction and Draco must assume it's because the Saviour of the Wizarding world is standing before her in all his glory.

The Gryffindor sniggers as he walks out, only the sounds of Draco's footsteps and the bag of sweets ruffling in the winter air following him as he leads back to the main road. He feels his robe being yanked back and grins at his mate's flaming cheeks.

"Yes, my liege?"

Draco motions wildly while yelling, looking very disheveled and very un-Malfoy like, although he knows he can't be heard. Harry doesn't understand a word of it, but his blood comes alive to see he can still rile up his old school rival.

"Pardon me, it must be too loud out here, I can't hear a thing you're saying."

The blond's eyes narrow considerably, and Harry just stares at him innocently, feigning confusion.

"Okay, okay," Harry laughs when Draco reaches up to snatch his robes and pull him forward. "I'll take it off. Let me get my wand."

Draco watches him reach into his robe, around his waist, but his hand comes up empty. Then he reaches into the other side, and nothing. His eyes narrow again at the sheepish look Harry gives him.

"Uh," he chuckles. "Lend me your wand?"

Harry definitely reads the disdainful, 'You lost your wand?' off of Draco's lips, but he only rolls his eyes.

"It happens all the time, must've dropped it somewhere. I just need another wand to Accio it."

The Slytherin rolls his eyes. Really, he's lucky Draco is allowed to preform Accio. He slides his wand from his sleeve, pursing his lips when it thrums lightly in his hand.

He misses his old wand. Hawthorn, unicorn hair, and ten inches. His former wand chose him, but he had to choose his current wand; it was between two. Cherry wood, dragon heart string core and thirteen inches long, or a walnut, thestral tail hair, and ten-and-three-quarters. Draco could feel the magic of the past wielder from the walnut wand, so that was a bust. Plus the cherry wand was nicer looking.

The Gryffindor passes Draco's wand between his hands and frowns. "You got a new one?"

I had to, Draco thinks, and then he pushes the thought towards his mate. He sees Harry's eyebrows lift and he thinks again. My wand was not recovered and even if it was, it would have been confiscated. They have an arsenal of training wands, and I had to pick one. They track every spell in case I try to do something imbecilic.

Harry snorts. He reaches out and casts Draco's wand in front of him, "Accio Harry's wand."

He squints into the snowy wind, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before he ducks and uses a palm to push his mate out of the way, and Draco sees a splintered piece of wood fly directly into the space of where Harry's face once was. It lands a few feet away from them, and Harry stands to look behind him with a pout. He walks to the wand and leans down to pick it up, straightening to inspect it in the light of one of the lit lanterns, his pout deepening.

"Someone stepped on it," he whines, holding out what seems to be only a part of his wand. Draco purses his lips, turns just in time to see the other half whirring past him and headed directly for Harry's dark head of hair. He tries to scream, to tell Harry to watch out, but with the silencing charm still activated, only a puff of warm air surfaces past his lips. "Ouch! Hey!"