Étoile des Neiges

Chapter 4

"Bugger!"

It was the third time it happened, and even though the first two times had been brief, Draco had a bad feeling about this one.

Draco closed his eyes, trying hard to not think about the thirty feet of nothingness underneath him. Not think about the way the chairlift was rocking back and forth. Not think about Potter's thigh close to his.

"You don't like it, do you?"

"Huh?" Draco jerked, startled. Potter was looking at him expectantly.

"The height," Potter pointed downwards, and Draco didn't follow his gaze. He didn't. Shit.

He clenched his jaw and shook his head. Dislike was actually an understatement but, not trusting his voice, he refrained from saying as much.

Instead, he fixed his gaze on a distant point in the snow-covered landscape. He tried not to look at Longbottom, who was busily swallowing Abbott's face, in the chairlift before them, and focused on a skier at the top of the ski run. He was hurtling down the slope in large bends. Draco followed the skier throughout the whole downhill, until he passed right underneath him, and... Oh god. That wasn't helping at all. Draco felt his chest tighten and clenched the metal bar in his fist.

"But you don't have trouble flying a broom, do you?" Potter blurted out from nowhere.

Draco let out a croaky laugh and looked at the man to his left. "Not quite the same, Potter."

It wasn't the same at all, actually. On a broom, he was the master of his own movements, for once. He didn't have to rely on these bloody Muggle chairs, to lift them along a fucking thin cable passing through those gears or whatever they were called. And he didn't trust those fucking posts with his life. Surely, they weren't large enough to carry all the chairs and all their passengers and all their gear.

Draco's breathing got sharper and faster as he followed the length of the post with his eyes.

"Did you always feel that way?"

Draco frowned. Why was Potter still talking? And why was he smiling this shy and lopsided smile? "I don't know, Potter, it's not as if I try and climb on these bloody Muggle chairs every three days."

Potter chuckled for some reason and looked away.

In fact, Draco knew exactly where his fear of heights came from. But he wasn't going to tell Potter about the Astronomy Tower, now was he?

Draco looked up at the blue sky. That he could do. And if it prevented him from weeping in front of Potter, all the better.

Fuck, why couldn't they just get going again?

"You know you have nothing to worry about. The chair-lifts are solid, there are hardly any accidents."

"For Merlin's sake, it's not like it's a rational fear or something. It happens, full stop."

Potter rolled his eyes, but didn't wait long this time before continuing, "And you know if you fall, you could just cast an Arresto-"