Running Away

2

His arms held on tightly to the waist in front of, Draco's breathing harsh and terrified. Serpents of fire danced and seemed to stretch for the brooms flying just out of reach. Crabbe was a moron, a complete and utter buffoon. Casting a large fire spell in an enclosed room, chock full of flammable piles of junk, possibly centuries old was just the tip of his stupidity iceberg. Thanks to that imbecile, Draco Malfoy was forced to accept help from one, Harry Potter. You cannot spend the entirety of your life raised to despise, to hate someone with every fibre of your being, and easily leave your life in the palm of their hands. Yet, Draco was clutching onto Potter's waist, as they fly on a broom above the disaster towards the exit. Dignity erased, pride squashed, Draco had to admit, that the Chosen one wasn't so bad after all.

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Locking himself in the first cupboard he could find Draco had found himself questioning everything. Of course, he wasn't loyal to the Dark Lord, he was loyal to his family. His family, who always told him Harry Potter's meaning in life was to kill all Death Eaters, regardless of their loyalty, and regardless of why they contain the dark mark. The war was over, Potter had lived, and Draco just wanted to be somewhere he could breathe before he was carted off to spend eternity behind bars in Azkaban. After all the time, he bullied Potter and his fear of dementors, Draco found himself regretting every choice he had ever made, including what he ate for breakfast.

Draco stiffened when he witnessed the storage door open. This was it. But, as soon as the light flooded the room, it had shut off, leaving Draco struggling to breath, who was it? A Death Eater? A member of the Order? Or a student... Either way Draco had the feeling that he was doomed. A single breath escaped his mouth, and he clamped his hands over his jaw, cursing his own weakness.

"Look, the war is over. I don't want to talk to anyone at the moment." His voice was muffled, still facing the door, but Draco knew. The voice was unmistakeable. A voice he was taught to despise....

"I don't particularly want to talk either..." Draco pretended to be indifferent, his mind too busy focusing on how close he was to Potter at this moment. Within two or three steps he would be pressed against him, and Draco didn't like it. He was trying to avoid people, especially the boy, no, man, who saved his life only a few hours previous. Harry sighed and slid towards the floor, leaving Draco standing awkwardly a step away. To make matters worse, Potter began to cry, uneven breathing giving away the sobs he tried to hide. All Draco knew, was when he was upset, all he ever wanted, was a hug.

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They both remained leaning against the door of the locked storage cupboard, both listening for, and anticipating someone finding them and hauling them to separate worlds neither wanted to be. Harry knew he should be helping the people outside, learning who he had lost and who had remained, but be also knew he had done enough. Draco had done enough, and was scared to leave the room in fear of being arrested for all he had done.

"I need to get away." Harry sighed. His thoughts clouded with the idea of being pestered and pushed and prodded for information, as if murdering a 70-year-old man was some big success. It was a pure necessity, if Harry didn't kill Voldemort, Voldemort would kill him. Harry never wanted to be a murderer, and he felt sick to his stomach for becoming one, even if the rest of the world saw him as a hero, Harry certainly didn't.

"But everyone loves you."
"That's why I have to leave." Draco's mind was running faster than it ever had. Potter was the saviour of the wizarding and the muggle world. The boy who lived, twice. How could he ever see himself as anything less than the hero he truly is?

"Well, at least there is somewhere for you to run." Draco sighed and brought his head to the door he was leaning on. Harry and Draco's shoulders and legs were touching but they couldn't care less, without realising it they brought a sense of comfort, of familiarity to each other, they really didn't want it to end.

"Then come with me Malfoy."

"Why?"
"Because I asked you to."

"Where to Potter?"

"Somewhere. Anywhere. Away."

"I never thought I would want to run away with Harry Potter"

"I never thought I would ask you to."