Potter!

You Promised

Harry arrived back at Grimmauld Place later than he had intended. Mrs Weasley had made him sit down with Ron and sort everything out, as he was still fuming, more after Ginny had suggested he was in love with Malfoy.

But after all that he'd stayed for dinner with them, mainly because she insisted, but also to show them he wasn't about to go running back to Draco yet, as much as he wanted to.

Despite feeling very at home at the Weasley's during every Christmas he spent there, after all that had happened, he couldn't feel completely part of their family anymore. He wasn't part of their family by blood, but he'd always felt he'd adopted the family, since he couldn't ever have his own. But although they loved him, and he knew that, he felt somewhat an outsider again, and the empty space beside George was eating away at his insides, telling him he was to blame for the disrupted family before him.

The atmosphere of Grimmauld Place didn't do much to help the heavy weight of his guilt. Every particle of dust floating around in the air reminded him of the last Christmas he had spent with Sirius before he was ripped away from him just like his parents. The memories replayed in his mind as though they were happening before his eyes. He blinked away the thoughts quickly. After preaching to others about forgetting the past, he should learn to forget it himself.

The world was cruel and Harry always blamed himself for it.

Making his way into the kitchen, he called Kreacher to make him some tea, he usually would do it himself, but he had filled up on dinner at the Weasley's and felt lazy.

"Make Draco some too." He whispered as he slumped into a chair, feeling as though he was a few pounds heavier than before.

"Master Malfoy is not here." Kreacher grumbled.

Harry shot up, "What?"

His previously too-full-to-move self had disappeared and he had never got up so quickly. "He promised..."

"Master Malfoy left earlier this afternoon. He said not to tell you where he was going." Kreacher stirred his tea, mumbling under his breath.

"But I already know where he would've gone. He told me he was thinking of going to the Leaky Cauldron. Is that where he went Kreacher?" Harry barked at the elf, desperate to get Draco back before Christmas. He couldn't let him spend Christmas alone. Not like the many years he spent alone on the cupboard under the stairs, told to be quiet as the Dursley's had friends and family over.
Sometimes Dudley would unlock the door and peer in with a couple of his nosey friends and laugh at him like he was a circus act.

"Kreacher cannot tell you where Master Malfoy went. He is sworn to secrecy." He handed Harry his tea calmly, as if he expected him just forget about Draco's disappearance.

Harry slammed the cup down, the tea sloshing about and narrowly missing scolding his hand. "Kreacher!"

"Master Potter?" Kreacher answered.

Harry wondered if he could answer if he reworded the question. "Is he going where he told me he would go if he left?"

Kreacher stared at him, his permanently scowling face scrunching up.

"You can answer that question, Kreacher." Harry's time was running out.

"Yes, Master." Kreacher forced out, unhappy that Harry had found a way round his oath not to tell.

"Thank you. Thank you Kreacher. I will reward you in some way." Harry dashed out of the room and immediately apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. Draco was so stupid sometimes. He had told Harry he might go there, but made sure Kreacher didn't tell. But didn't he think that would be the first place Harry looked anyway? Surely he knew he was too stubborn to just let him go.

The Leaky Cauldon was completely empty, so much so that Harry feared he wasn't there either for a moment.

Tom stared at him, as if he was mad to come in here so late on Christmas eve. And we was.

"Did anyone come in for a room? This afternoon or early evening." Harry demanded, glancing around for a sign of a blonde head.

Tom narrowed his eyes at him in a mistrustful way, "Why?"

"I have reason to believe Draco Malfoy came in here for a room and I need to find him." Harry glanced at the large clock on the wall anxiously, it was nearing midnight, Christmas day. He had to find him.

Tom glanced away, avoiding his eyes, "Malfoy? He's not here. No one's here."

"Really?" Harry persisted, "Did he tell you to say that?"

He hesitated for a moment, "Why would I listen to a Malfoy?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Because he tipped you extra."

Tom was a bad liar, and went silent, busying himself by wiping down the bar so it was sparkling, more so than it probably had ever been before.

Harry fumbled in his pocket and slammed some galleons on the counter under Tom's nose.

They made eye contact for a second and Harry gave him a pleading look.

His shaky hand appeared and scooped up the galleons, stuffing them in the pockets of his shabby trousers. "Room 15."

Harry thanked him thoroughly and scurried up the stairs, glancing at every door he saw until he saw the rusty numbers 15 at the end of the hall. He took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles on the door.

After a few seconds silence and no movement he knocked again, this time speaking, knowing he would be able to hear him through the thin rotting door. "Draco, I know you're in there."

Hesitation, and then footsteps on the other side of the door and it was creaked open. "Harry..."

"You promised, Draco." He started up at the blonde boy, who's eyes were filled with tears once again and his body hunched in protection.

"It's for the best." Draco replied, his eyes sinking to the floor.

"Not on Christmas." Harry whispered.

"You won't be alone." Draco's hand tightened on the door at the thought of Harry having fun, forgetting about him the next day.

"I don't care about myself, Malfoy." Harry seethed. Why wouldn't the man just let himself be happy for once in his life? "I sorted everything out, and we're going to the Weasley's tomorrow, together or not at all."

Draco's eyes softened, "Harry I can't sit there and make everyone feel awkward and tense on Christmas day.

"If one of them feels awkward and tense, they're the only one to blame. They're not forgetting the past. The war has changed everyone." Harry stated, gazing up at Draco, entreating him with a needy expression. "Please just let me in and stop acting like you're trying to close the door on me."

Draco opened the door gradually and uncertainly, and Harry slipped in, closing the door firmly behind him.

He had an idea of what he was about to do, knowing he shouldn't because it might push Draco even further away. But he wouldn't have even have thought of it if it hadn't been for what Ginny had asked only hours earlier.