Papillon

09 - la réserve

C H A P T E R 0 9

Harry

Every passing day had seemed like a dream to Harry. A dream he had been able to live with Draco by his side. They had done almost everything together in need to feed a hunger for each other that didn't seem to get lessened by anything but each other's presence.

Draco had introduced him to his friends, the girls from Beauxbatons, and they had been the sweetest angels he had ever met. They had embraced Harry into their little blue family as soon as he had entered the carriage, expecting an awkward atmosphere but getting pulled onto one of the sofas right away. Of course they had asked him a million questions and Harry had replied with a million of stuttering answers, but they approved of him almost immediately and seemed to be just as caring for Draco as Draco was for them. Blue had mixed with red as Draco had joined Harry at the Gryffindor table; now also calling Harry's friends his. They all seemed to love him and enjoy his snide remarks and eye-rolls the most of all. Even some of the Beauxbatons girls had wandered off to the Gryffindor after a while, leaving the Ravenclaws in a fool mood because of the change. But everyone had loved having the French girls at their table; especially the boys.

Harry had never known he needed someone like Draco in his life, someone to truly love. Even though he had always loved Ron and Hermione, the way he loved Draco was a whole different thing. He could tell the boy everything about his life, about his feelings, about his fears. He had told him everything about Voldemort and his past experiences; about how he was afraid the monster would return. Draco hadn't really commented on any of it, seeming to be afraid of the Dark Wizard without telling Harry why. And Harry hadn't dared to push the subject further.

They had gone flying a few more times after the almost-accident; Draco not wanting to give up his newly found passion after the almost-fall. One of his rules however was that Harry had to fly with him every single time, to keep an eye on him and catch him must he fall again. But Draco hadn't fallen anymore, his imaginary butterfly wings finally working to perfection. The second scar from the almost-accident had faded away quite fast, leaving the thinnest red line that was almost invisible if not studied from up close. Draco loved it and often traced it with the tip of his long, pale fingers and told Harry what a savior he was. It had done nothing more but make Harry blush.

A strange thing had happened in March when they had wanted to go flying again; the Quidditch pitch had suddenly become 'unreachable'. They had marched towards it with their brooms at hand but had found their own feet turning around again as soon as they had crossed an invisible line. A kind of urge it had been to go fly somewhere else, leave the Quidditch pitch alone. Harry hadn't thought much of it; perhaps they had become bored of flying above the pitch without even realizing it. Draco on the other hand had a suspicion of his own that there was something wrong, that there was a certain spell that was keeping them away. In April the smart Wizard had finally presented a theory to Harry that it might have something to do with the final task.

But as the final task was nearing, the end of the school year therefore as well. Both boys had become nervous when the first of May had arrived; only two more months were left in each other's company. They had started to make plans, exchanged addresses with the promise of a letter every single week -- but Harry knew it wouldn't be the same as having Draco physically by his side. Not to mention that the Dursleys probably weren't going to be very keen on receiving an owl at their nephew's bedroom window every week; Hedwig was already an eyesore to them and a disgrace to their neighborhood. As they had laid under a tree together, enjoying the warm breezes of May, Draco had invited Harry to come over to his house in France during the summer. Getting his hands on an international Portkey was apparently something Draco could arrange easily; he was wealthy enough and had the right connections to obtain one. Harry had accepted the offer without hesitation and asked Draco detailed descriptions of what France was like almost daily. He knew Draco once mentioned that he lived in a cold and quite scary Manor, somewhere he hated to be — but Draco had assured him they weren't staying at the Manor during the summer holidays but would exchange the macabre structure for a cozy house in France. Knowing those facts, Harry had dreamt of spending his summer with Draco at the French countryside almost every single night.