Heaven Through a Window • Drarry •

Chapter Eighteen: The Hall of Forgotten Things

New Healers traditionally covered the worst shifts for their first year, and Healer Mo Ghanbari was only too happy to oblige. Anne press-ganged Draco into taking off the two weeks of Christmas and New Year, and Draco grudgingly conceded that Mo was an excellent replacement for Penny Clearwater.

On the last day before Draco's holiday, Anne brought in fish and chips. "I've passed Healer Ghanbari your patient list. And I think Mrs Jones will be fine," she said helpfully. "I had my dream interpreted."

"Marvellous."

A generous Christmas present and a daily hot chocolate were how he showed his appreciation to Anne, whom he could not live without.

On Christmas Day, he unwrapped his gift from Anne. It was dealcoholised wine—Potter was his only addiction—and Draco thought of him, what he might be doing. Was he still smiling? Would he have enough visitors?

Since Potter's visit to the Manor, he'd had a grin on his face every day. Whenever Draco popped in, Christmas cassettes would be playing, or he'd be listening to the European Cup on the WWN.

Portkey to Your Heart was on the wireless when Draco went in to see Harry after the New Year.

"Hello, Stranger," Potter said. His ward was dark, and most of the light came from candles suspended in crystal bubbles. His hair cascaded down his back, wet from the shower. Oh God.

"Good afternoon. How was Christmas?"

He just grinned and held up, Why I Didn't Die When the Augurey Cried, Healing Horizons, An Anthology of Eighteenth-Century Rare Healing Cases, Holistic Hypotheses in Healing, and Healing with Hindsight.

"Nice," Draco said. He sat down and helped himself to a miniature chocolate bauble.

"These must be for you. Hermione probably didn't want to be rude and get them for you outright."

He couldn't tell Potter how much his mother mourned Auntie Bella at the holidays, how that now she was dead nobody danced at Christmas any more. But Potter noticed the look in his eyes and didn't ask him about his time off.

"Al tells me Scorpius got two fishing rods for Christmas, and he's desperate to go to Wiltshire," Harry said. "I blame you."

Draco smiled at the floor. "I want him to be happy. It's not much to ask. Do you..." He broke off and shook his head. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what were you going to say?"

"Use Legilimency. Work it out."

Draco took a few seconds to break down his Occlumency shield to let Potter in.

Potter drew out of his mind and grinned. "Really?"

"I could sneak you out every six weeks without it being too suspicious. Tell anyone and I'll never speak to you again."

"Our secret, then."

"Yes," Draco said softly.

****

This time, they explored some of the more interesting spaces in the Manor. Harry trailed his fingertips over the magnificent wrought-iron bannisters, a copy of those at Chantilly castle. He introduced Harry to Astoria, Howard Potter and Rosana Northcott née Black.

"There's something else I want to show you," Draco said, pulling him into the Games Room.

He wiped a drop of blood on a nondescript oak panel and a door shimmered into existence. The torches burst into flame as Draco ducked inside, his footsteps echoing. The candelabra on a spindly table beside the door lit itself, and he passed it to Potter.