Save The Date (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Twenty Seven

   Tommy's turned out to be a pub (much to Draco's surprise) called "The Old Craic", which Draco was quickly informed was pronounced 'crack' a word which meant 'good times', lest there be any confusion. The inside was dark and a bit squashed with so many mismatched tables and chairs crowded around the hearth, but Draco felt a warm, welcoming sensation envelope him as soon as he stepped over the threshold, and couldn't help but smile. There were a number of people and leprechauns occupying the seats, and a broad man in a flat cap behind the bar greeted them with a cheery wave as he polished a pint glass.

"Bones me old chap," he cried merrily. "It's been too long, what brings you to this neck of the woods? Come, come, sit down and bring your friend."

"The usual!" Brandon hiccupped, climbing up the leg of a bar stool to stand on the seat and rest against the counter. He dropped his empty tankard in front of him as well as a shiny gold coin.

"The usual useless layabout, I assume you mean?" the barkeep chuckled as Draco walked up to him and lifted Bones so he could sit on a stool too. "Catch any snakes today?"

"Three," Brandon announced proudly, then edged the tankard closer to the taps in a not so subtle hint.

"Yer a lying bastard, Brandon O'Charm," the man said, shaking his head, but filling up the cup regardless. "Now, who do we have here? Tommy O'Shea," he introduced himself to Draco, sticking out his large, calloused hand.

"Um," said Draco as he took it, not sure if he should give his name considering he had a whole army of the undead after him.

Bones obviously felt the same though, as he propped his front paws on the bar to address Tommy himself. "You don't have anyone," he said meaningfully. "He's in a spot of bother from up above, so the less you know, the better."

Tommy laughed and tipped his hat. "You don't need to tell me twice," he assured them. "Right then so, is there anything you're in fact wanting, or are you just here for the good stuff?" He waved the now clean glass their way.

"I'm looking for my friend," Draco said clearly. There wasn't much of a din from the pub's patrons, but it wasn't exactly quiet either. "I think he's in Christmas Land, but he might have left there by now. His name's Harry, and he had a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead."

Brandon gave a particularly loud belch, then held out his tankard again, already empty. "He's a trouble maker, I can tell," he said with a frown.

"No he's not," Draco defended hotly. "He's just...a bit lost."

Tommy plucked the cup from the leprechaun's hands and filled it automatically. "Well," he said thoughtfully. "I've not seen anyone by that description, but there were folks from Christmas Land around here, not twenty minutes ago."

Draco felt a thrill of hope fly through him and he leaned forward on the bar. "Really?"

"Yep," said Tommy with a nod, finding another glass to clean. "A bunch of robins, all harping on about some boy. Actually," he narrowed his eyes and gave Draco a closer look. "It was a blond fellow they were after, with silver eyes. I asked for something useful like a name, but you know what those Christmas ding-dongs are like, hard to get a straight answer before they start bursting into song every two seconds."

"Did they say why they were searching for a blond boy?" Draco asked, his pulse quickening.

"Aye," Tommy replied with a smile. "Said their friend was trying to find him. Nothing more than that, but seems to me that could be you laddie?"

A wave of dizziness swept over him, but Draco clung to the bar and stayed upright. "Could be?" he agreed optimistically, raising his eyebrows at Bones. Did that mean Harry still remembered who he was, what had happened to him?

Oh please, please, Draco begged silently. If Harry was aware, that meant he could fend for himself. Of the two of them, there was most definitely one who was far better qualified for heroics, and it made Draco incredibly relieved to think it perhaps wasn't just down to him to get them home.

"So he is in Christmas Land?" he enquired happily.

Tommy frowned. "Actually, no," he said apologetically. "I don't think so. Pretty sure they said he was off trying to find you himself, so he's probably in another second level holiday by now."

"Or third," Bones said with a sigh.

So, anywhere. Draco's brief flash of hope fizzled out as his heart clenched. It was hard not to resent Harry for making him worry like he was. It was a deep, churning ache that made Draco's throat constrict as he imagined all the many lands Harry could have travelled to, and how improbable is was that he could possibly hope to find him. At least, if he had maybe remembered who he really was, he might have a better chance, but did he know he had until midnight to escape back to the real world?

He wasn't used to caring about people like this. It felt like he'd been in constant fear for his parents that past two years, and in the moments when his fierce disassociation had cracked, he'd worried himself silly over Pansy and Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle, even Theo, who he'd never been all that close to but still would have minded if he'd been slaughtered in the mindless violence like so many others. But now his life had returned to 'normal', it was almost more than he could bear to fret over Harry's well being like he was.

Draco couldn't lose him now, he just couldn't. They had only just begun connecting, finding a path towards one another that wasn't fraught with bitterness and animosity. He knew he could never be with Harry, he was straight after all, and even if he wasn't, The Boy Who Lived would never fall for an ex-death eater. He had (almost) come to terms with that fact. But if Harry stayed down here, he would to all intents and purposes die, and Draco was too selfish a creature to ever let that happen whilst it was within his power to stop it.

Even if Harry didn't love him back, he would at least still be alive in the world, the real world. Draco would never forget as long as he lived that heart-wrenching few minutes outside of the castle back in May, when Harry's lifeless body had hung limply from the games keeper's arms, and Draco had thought everything was truly lost. Harry hadn't survived the worst wizard to have ever lived, only to lose himself to bloody Christmas Land.