seven | lucius' son

994 77 75
                                    

May 2002

Sunrises and sunsets pass unseen over the leaf canopy, and Harry wonders often why the Aurors haven't yet stormed the forest to find him.

Maybe they just can't find me, he reasons with himself. His wand is broken after all, and presumably long lost and completely untraceable - the way Draco wanted it in the beginning.

And the forest is huge, of course. And their fires are small.

But still, it bothers him to exist so far from normal society like this. Perhaps in different circumstances he could enjoy such a simple existence, perhaps in a parallel universe he'd choose it. But he has friends, colleagues, people back home to miss him and worry about him.

I bet Hermione isn't sleeping or eating again, he thinks to himself with a wave of worry. This worry is soon replaced by resentment for Draco Malfoy.

You dragged me into your fucking mess, he thinks with a dark glower at his former classmate, who's retching as ever as he guts a fish. I didn't ask for this.

Neither did Draco, a little mental voice pipes up. Harry ignores it.

He sighs and strips bark from a pile of sticks in front of him, to get to where the wood is driest for their evening fire.

His mind drifts again to the outside world. Is it descending into chaos? He doesn't like to be self absorbed but even he can admit that his disappearance is probably the most high-profile story in the Prophet right now.

Unless Lucius Malfoy is back from the dead, having found another poor soul to inhabit. He shudders.

Realises again that he should probably tell Draco, just so he's prepared. Realises he has no idea what words to use, so stays silent.

***

May 2002

When he works up the nerve and inclination to share the news, it's morning and they're awake after the birds for once.

"You know when I first came to the forest?" Hardy asks quietly as they kick leaves over the shape where their bodies lay, and disperse the ash from the fire over the ground.

A nod. Of course he remembers.

"You know I wasn't actually looking for you?" Harry continues.

Draco's foot pauses mid-swing, long leg frozen for a second with the surprise. "No? What were you looking for, then?"

"Your father's Horcrux," Harry says. He tries to keep his tone even, impartial. Collected. "Do you know anything about that?"

But Draco's reaction shocks Harry more than he ever imagined it would. His grey eyes are wide and his hands shake as he asks, "What makes you think he made... one of those?"

After Harry's explanation, Draco doesn't speak for hours.

Harry tries to engage him in conversation occasionally, but with no success. He doesn't eat, either.

Harry supposes it's not every day you find out your murderous Dark Wizard father split his soul to take over the entire world, and it can't be an easy discovery.

But that night, under the cover of darkness, Draco's body moves closer towards touching distance than usual. And he whispers something just as Harry's about to fall asleep.

"I think it was me you were looking for, after all, Potter," he mumbles. His throat sounds sore and dry. "I think I'm a Horcrux."

***

Harry's mind runs at a million miles an hour as he lets the sentence hang in the air, and his heart's beating right out of his chest. Draco, his father's Horcrux? How is that even possible?

Of course he knows that it's possible in a literal sense. He remembers Quirrel and Nagini as choices for Voldemort's Horcruxes - christ, Harry himself was a Horcrux. Living beings can contain fractured evil souls the same way inanimate objects can. He knows this.

But Lucius' own son? How could anyone do that?

"That's beyond fucked up," he whispers, and shifts closer to the glowing embers of the fire to combat the sickening shiver crawling over him. Draco lies still.

It sounds like he's crying and Harry's hit with strange urge to hold him.

But he feels like he doesn't know him like that, like there are still barriers up from school, as ridiculous as it sounds - and barriers from the war, which is less ridiculous. Though he is growing to understand that more each day, and re learn a lot of his old convictions.

"Do you want me to do anything right now?" Harry whispers weakly. He instantly regrets the words; they didn't come out anywhere near how he wanted them. They don't convey anything at all.

And of course, "No," says Malfoy. Just like that, the walls are right up again, no glimmer of pain or emotion breaks through.

"Just sleep, Potter," he says.

And he does.

***

The next morning, Harry stares hard down at the moss and undergrowth that fit around Draco's body in the night, takes in the imprint of his back and his arms and legs and the crook of his head.

And he aches. Can't bring himself to kick the leaves over the shape and rough it up. He almost considers lying down in it, just to see how they fit, but he quickly swallows down that urge.

He hasn't felt this way about someone since Ginny - and perhaps not even about her. But what, exactly, does he feel? He's not sure where this new attraction is arising from ("It's not new, don't kid yourself," laughs the little voice in his mind meanly), but either way he's not sure he hates it like he should.

After all, nothing's normal, is it? He's been trapped in a forest in the middle of nowhere with no magic, no way of escaping, and no sign of rescue for almost a month now. With the man he's supposed to hate, or at least enormously resent. And that's the one thing he can't do.

He watches the way Draco's hands move as he scoops acorns from where they'd been soaking in the water, watches the way his grey eyes linger on the things he finds interesting, and suddenly Harry feels the world turn beneath his feet. He's got a new centre of gravity now, and it doesn't point towards the earth.

Draco passes him some of the acorns, and Harry blushes as he accepts them, then feels stupid, so he blushes harder.

And then -

"I think you should try and kill me," Draco says.

________________________________

a/n: thanks so much if you're still reading, i really appreciate this! sorry if you feel it's moving fast, i like a fast-paced book myself so that's how it's going to work...

if you want a slower burn then let me promote my most popular work, 'the scent of malice | drarry' (i'm shameless ahah)

hope everyone's having a good week! pls comment and vote if you're enjoying ✨🥰

~ paradisedraco

The Price of Light | drarryWhere stories live. Discover now