Please Be There If I Remember

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Greetings

The door appeared out of the stone wall just as it had the first time and Draco managed to step in without gasping aloud as embarrassingly as he did before.

"I still don't understand how you managed to create this place? Are you just that magically attuned?" Draco queried, glancing around the room again.

It looked relatively the same as it had the first time around but there appeared to be less green and the chairs somehow seemed to be even more comfortable—how that was possible, Draco didn't know. He strode towards the same one that he sat down before and plopped down onto it in a very un-Malfoy-like way that made Harry snort from behind him.

He then turned aghast at Draco's words.

"I didn't create it! You–you thought I created this?" And then there was genuine wonder in his voice that made the blond look up from where he was draped unceremoniously across both arms of the chair.

"Well, how else do you explain the randomly appearing room that basically came out of nowhere? Not to mention the weird summoning walk you did to make it appear."

Harry's face scrunched up in a clear effort not to laugh. "You mean my pacing?"

"Yes," Draco nodded. "The demonic ritual of summoning something. In this case, it was a room."

This time Harry couldn't hold in his laugh and it spouted out of him like a fire bursting into flames, the sound spreading through the room like a warm hug.

Draco—somehow—relaxed even more from his position on his seat and fought the urge to close his eyes in the warmth of the expanse.

Harry shook his head and let his hair fly around his face like a bird in every direction. It looked delectably soft tonight and if Harry moved closer, Draco would have been able to reach up and touch his hair to see if it was as soft as it looked.

He turned away.

"I didn't create it. Although...I guess in a way you are right. I did summon it. I'm not quite sure how it works, to be perfectly honest. It just kind of—appeared..." he trailed off. He stopped and changed the subject to something else. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you something. I—I wasn't really supposed to leave for Christmas break."

Draco's eyebrows drew up at that.

Did that mean I could have spent more time with him over the break? And he left?! Damn whoever sent him away all to hell.

"Why did you leave, then?" Draco asked, anger in check.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and sat down opposite him. "I kind of had a dream, vision thingy. Not important—" Draco had a feeling it was definitely important, but shrugged it off, allowing Harry to continue on with his story— "I don't know, it was just this thing and I had to leave. Sorry, I couldn't tell you before I left, I was a little...uh preoccupied. Yep, that's the right word preoccupied. Totally not something else..."

"Harry." Draco cut in. the boy blinked out of his reverie. "You're rambling. Also, you're a terrible liar. At this point I would just cut to the middle man and either tell me or don't. This is kind of getting embarrassing."

(And if Draco secretly loved it when he was being all stuttery and rambling, then that was something he would never tell anyone under any circumstances.)

"Right, uh sorry. Got a little sidetracked. Anyways, what was I saying?"

Draco rolled his eyes through the top of his skull.

"Honestly, Potter," he muttered to himself. "How do you get anything done in your life."

"Hermione?" he unhelpfully cut in.

Draco just glared at him.

"You were saying something about a vision?" He said to help him along.

"Oh, yes. Vision...So anyway, vision aside, how was your break? Mine was pretty terrible."

(Draco noted that he said this with a smile on his face.)

"It was good," he responded at the subject change, only letting it go because it was Harry, and he knew he could never turn the boy down since it would put a frown on his face which Draco did not like seeing. "Boring as all get out. But good nonetheless. I—I met someone."

Harry blinked. Blinked again. He clenched his fists on the chair.

"Really?" He asked, and it sounded a little constipated.

Draco stared at him for a moment then snorted in a loud un-pureblood-like way that made Green Eyes unclench his now white knuckles that were in a fist.

"Not like that, you blubbering idiot.'' Draco said smiling but with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "Her name was Haisley, in Hufflepuff. Real fire spitter that one. We basically became friends on the spot, now that I think about it."

"But you're not..." Harry waved his hands about unhelpfully, "like into her or anything, right? I mean, it would be fine if you were, I'm sure she's nice and all. But like, I don't know—"

"Harry," Draco but in, and the boy shut up instantly. "You're rambling again. And no, it's not like that. Merlin's beard, you're aggressive."

Green Eyes stared at Draco with this infallible expression so strange, he felt as if he had to say something to stop him from looking at him like that.

"What?"

"You—you called me Harry."

"I did? Is that bad?"

"I—no. I guess it's not," he whispered.

"Okay then..." he said, then shrugged it off. "Would you like me to call you Harry then? I only really called you Potter because it seemed to roll off my tongue. Kind of strange, that," he said as an afterthought, having never thought about it before and how he always called him Potter out loud instead of Harry.

"Ya," Harry said, huffing a laugh. "Strange that."

Draco smiled as if he understood what he was saying and they turned off to another topic, Draco's weariness over the past few days catching up on him fast. It seemed to crawl up behind him and slip into his body, dripping in like the sunlight through the hospital window that Draco had grown accustomed to watching the sunrise and sunsets out of.

His eyelids started to close on their own accord and he shoved them upwards in retaliation.

He summarised that he must look a little mental, eyes turning downwards and then suddenly shooting open so that he was looking at nothing with eyes so wide you could clearly see the whites on the top and bottom.

Draco sighed and leaned down farther into the chair.

"So," he started. "Where should we begin?"