Chapter 41 - Will you be home for Christmas?

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Harry ran with him. The blonde pulled his arm, yanking him from one place to another – full of joy, as if he didn't have any care in the world. Harry stumbled. The amount of speed was too much for his joints to handle right now, yet he couldn't allow himself to trip along the way. No one could see them. No one was supposed to know of them. And yet someone did. Ginny. The thoughts of her wandered around his head like radio waves, spinning his head for he claimed to see her standing in each and every corner as they ran. "Where are we going?" Harry called out of breath. His feet no longer seemed to move, for it felt like he was flying.

"It's just through here," Draco smiled once he gave him a glimpse from over his shoulder. They ended up in an empty classroom. The same one where it all started about a year ago. Harry leaned onto one of the bookshelves, out of breath, as he tried to steady his messed-up glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Fuck," he breathed, wiping the sweat of his brow. He drew his eyes towards the blonde boy who seemed to be perfectly fine. "How on earth are you not out of breath. Damn..."

"I've been working out," Draco replied with a smug smile, fetching something from the deep of his pocket.

"So it seems," Harry muttered, trying to stretch his back for it hurt even more now. "Why weren't you at class today? Or ever?"

Draco looked up, smiling from ear to ear, walking straight up to the brunette; crushing his lips onto his for he seemed to have missed him too. Harry eased under his touch, gently grabbing his face to pull him closer – the taste of him sweet as ever on his tongue. He forgot all about the question, looking Draco straight in the eye once their lips broke, and he smiled. "I've missed you," he confessed. The blonde batted his eyes, a modest, genuine smile crossing his lips as he reached out to hold his hand.

"I've missed you too."

"What did Snape tell you? I got a shit ton of detention."

"Oh come," Draco bared his gums, "Snape wouldn't do that to me. My father would kill him."

"-Or you," Harry added rather serious. The blonde batted his eyes, squeezing his hand while a pensive expression drew along his face.

"Sorry," Harry apologized, feeling awfully small. "I shouldn't have said that."

Draco shrugged, dropping Harry's hand as he walked away, rubbing his hands together. Harry was right. He would if he knew his son got into trouble, again.

"Do you know what you'll be doing around Christmas?"

The blonde turned, shrugging all the same as a fair answer. "The usual. We don't really celebrate it, for my father thinks it's a muggle's business."

"Of course," Harry nodded. "So you'll just be at home then?"

"I guess so."

Harry sat down on one of the desks, flicking his tongue as he investigated the callus on the palms of his hands. It had gotten less now he wouldn't practice quidditch as much anymore. "You could stay here with me?" he asked, continuing to look at his hands. A scoff came from the blonde, who stood on the other side of the room watching his reflection in one of the stored mirrors.

"Rather suspicious, no? My father needs me at his meetings. I can't escape that."

"The death eater gathering parties?"

Draco threw a book at his face; resulting for them both to laugh until they realized it wasn't as funny, and he replied.

"Yes. Those..."

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