Chapter Thirty One

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   "ARGH!" Harry yelled, thrashing his way back up to the surface, hands grabbing at his face where his glasses were only just hanging on by the crook of one arm. The cold was shocking, but his fright at almost losing his glasses was stronger. "Hang on, hang on," he gasped. The bottom of the lake wasn't that deep, and he was able to place his feet on the mud whilst he carefully removed them altogether from his face. The world became a great deal blurrier, and he fumbled to move back to the edge of the dock to place them up somewhere safe. 

"Here," he heard Draco say, and then he was turning with one of Draco's hands on his shoulder, the other gently taking his glasses away. Harry blinked, and was able to make out him placing them on the wooden boards to dry off and stay safe.

"Thanks," he said bashfully.

Draco bobbed back in front him and took his hands, gliding them both into the middle of the pond. "Can you swim by yourself?" he asked.

Harry had been taken to the lido in Hyde Park several times as a boy, and once to the seaside before the war had broken out, so he felt he could traverse these calm waters easily enough. He nodded and let Draco's hands go. "Yes," he said, managing to treat water.

Draco was hopping up and down, his head almost disappearing between each move. "The bottom is only a foot or so down anyway," he said, and Harry ducked down to touch the cold mud with his feet, and realised this was indeed true.

He broke the surface of the water again, and Draco splashed him devilishly. "Race you to the other end!" he cried.

They spent the next half an hour or so by Harry's estimation racing up and down the length of the lake, more concerned with who could dunk the other the most rather than who was actually the fastest, whooping and laughing and splashing and cheering. The water seemed warm in no time, and Harry had gotten used to the shape of the lake's base and edges without his glasses to clearly see, becoming bolder. Bold enough to tackle Draco under the water and drag him down for a second or two, before realising him to splutter back about the surface.

"Got you!" he crowed triumphantly.

"Dirty cheat," Draco shot back, but he was grinning too widely to actually be angry. They calmed after that, lying on the backs and looking up at the blue sky between the tree branches.

Harry felt rejuvenated in a way he'd not really known before, with the water sluicing through his hair and his body bobbing along in the gentle current. "Do you think Theo will let us come back here?" he asked wistfully.

"We don't have to leave yet," Draco chuckled as he drifted past.

"I know," Harry said. "I suppose, I'd like to know we can come back some day, if we want?"

Draco flicked some water to catch his attention, but his face was warm with kindness when Harry turned his head. "We can come back whenever you want," he said. "We can spend all summer swimming if you like. And if it's too cold, we can sit on the boat."

They were drifting on their backs, bellies and toes bare to the sun glinting through the canopy, and Harry smiled back at his best friend as their fingers cautiously intertwined. "I'd like that," he said.

The sound of a dog barking snapped them violently from their reverie, and they both jerked upright again, heads snapping around for the source of the disturbance.

"Quick," Draco giggled, grabbing Harry's hand again and leading him over to the bank by the field. Harry was going to ask what he was up to, to protest they weren't doing anything wrong (he was sure they weren't) so it didn't matter if they were seen by a dog walker, when he realised that Draco was pulling him through the long, trailing branches of a weeping willow. 

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