Drarry || One Shots

Golden Coins And Silver Hopes

Summary
*If not war, not a mass murdering madman, not the different sides they were on could keep them apart, then what could?*

His mind was numbingly blank as he stared down at the courtyard through the old, but always spotless window, Mrs. Weasley running about and shouting orders left and right, every family member quick to do as told. Bill himself moved tables around, only half dressed in his new robes, sometimes stopping in his tracks to steal a glance at the window where he knew his soon to be wife was getting ready. A smile then lit his face, stretching the scarred skin of his cheeks before he'd shake his head and run inside to fetch some more chairs. Mr. Weasley was fumbling with his muggle camera and Fred and George laughed their arses off when Mrs. Weasley would take notice and scold her husband.

It all felt as though everything was normal, as though a young couple wasn't getting married too soon before their time in fear of not surviving the war that was breaking out outside their little, momentarily happy bubble of warm smiles and promises they were eager to keep. Harry supposed the burden wasn't so heavy on their shoulders as it was on his, or Hermione's, who was undoubtedly doing her best to smile while she helped dress Fleur, or Ron's, who wasn't doing so well at hiding his anxiety, almost dropping the china twice now. It was them, after all, who were leaving as soon as the wedding was over. Them who knew what had to be done and them who took it upon themselves to do it.

He heaved a deep sigh and reached inside his pocket, taking out the coin resting there. With a flick of his wand, a few, humorous words that didn't reach his heart appeared on it.

The wedding's about to start. Hope I won't have to dance.

And he sent the message.

×××

"Get the fuck away from me, Potter!"

"No! Listen to me, listen!"

Malfoy made to stand up, but the deep, not yet healed, gushes that littered his chest made him rethink his choice.

"If you're trying to apologise, you righteous fucker, don't forget that I tried to crucio you." Those words seem to help Harry settle a bit, taken aback by a truth he seemed to have forgotten in less than half an hour. "And I would have done it had you not stopped me. You had all the rights."

A small bubble of anger came to life somewhere deep inside the brunet at the reminder of Malfoy's attempt to use an Unforgivable, but he pushed it away. He was as much to blame as Malfoy was.

"No, you don't understand", he tried again, a bit more desperate this time. "I didn't know what the spell did. I swear I didn't."

Malfoy pinned him down with a steely gaze, which Harry sustained rather nervously.

The blond scoffed after a few moments, looking away and rolling his eyes, but there was a trace of relief softening his hollow features.

×××

Draco's hands were shaking, his brow sleek with sweat as he neared the slightly open door. His breath was shallow and he had to make a conscious effort to calm down even though, realistically, he knew he could not be heard. He was rather confident in his silencing spell.

As he drew closer, flashes of vivid pain and maniacal laughter crossed his mind, real as they seemed. He knew, were he to get caught this time as well, the punishment would be much worse than last time. And then his mother would spend another night, sobbing at his bedside as she fought to heal his wounds.

He had to remind himself again why he was doing such a thing. Jeopardising his own safety and willingly submitting to torture as though he were one of the prisoners locked down in the cellar. All he needed was the memory of boyish laughter and sparkling green eyes to keep his feet moving forward, closer still, so he could discern the voices inside.