Running On Air

Chapter 14

Harry sits in the passenger side of the Renault for a long time, listening to engine tick as it cools.

At first, he's still angry and begins mentally preparing the long rant he plans to deliver upon Draco's return.

But an hour passes and still Draco doesn't reappear, and soon Harry's anger melts into regret as he replays the argument. Draco had been irritable and snappish right from the start, but so had Harry. It could have been a simple miscommunication — oh, I'm not angry with you, Draco could have said.

But a little voice of reason adds, you could have been a lot clearer too.

Harry flushes guiltily, thinking how the argument had reminded him of their schoolyard rivalry. He'd been quick to feel defensive and take every remark as an insult. Now that he analyses the entire argument, he thinks that he would have interpreted Draco's comment about Neville as a harmless joke or even a playful jest had Ron or Hermione said it.

Well, he won't apologise, he thinks stubbornly. Draco hadn't been reasonable either, after all. Harry might take a little blame, but only, for example, a quarter.

No more, no less.

When two hours have passed since Draco disappeared, Harry grimaces when he thinks of what he said. At least I have friends.

That hadn't been fair at all, Harry thinks, feeling ashamed. It's just...Draco had sounded a lot like he used to whenever they were slinging insults at Hogwarts, and even though Draco's expression had been anger rather than a smirk, Harry had just sort of responded automatically with a personal insult...

Maybe he'll take half the blame. But no more.

When three hours have passed since Draco disappeared, Harry thinks he'll accept all the blame. He sits in the driver's seat and places his hands on the wheel; he stares unseeingly at the road atlas; he leaves the car and paces restlessly around it.

Come back, and I'll apologise, he thinks desperately. I don't mind saying sorry if you're here.

But Draco doesn't come back.

Come nightfall, Harry drives to Landewednack.

It's a reluctant journey. He can't stop worrying.

He's worried over many things during his life. The knot of fear and anxiety in his stomach is certainly not unfamiliar. He knows the feeling well, whether from things like his first Quidditch match or the challenges of the Triwizard Tournament, whether from the safety of his friends or the future of Hogwarts students during the persecution of Muggleborns.

But it's certainly new to be worrying about Draco Malfoy.

Before he leaves, Harry carves the coordinates for Landewednack into a fence post, hoping that if Draco returns to the spot he will be able to locate Harry. Still, it's a long and lingering departure. Harry keeps thinking, I'll wait just another minute. And then, when the minute passes without sign of Draco, he thinks just another minute. At long last he leaves. But even as he starts the engine and turns the indicator on, he's vainly hoping for Draco to reappear.

But the nondescript and empty patch of road slowly disappears in the rear-vision mirror as Harry drives away.

In Landewednack, he finds a boutique guesthouse close to the coastal walking track. It appears to be of a markedly higher quality than the other places they've stayed. The receptionist chatters brightly to Harry about the weather and gives him the key for the room.

"You're on the second floor, on the eastern side," she says cheerfully. "Breakfast is served from seven to nine, and we have maps and brochures available for your perusal. Enjoy your stay."