Work Text:
Hour 1
“Oh my God.”
“Malfoy-”
“Oh my God, I’m going to die.”
“Malfoy, listen -”
“Why is this happening to me?”
“Malfoy, come on-”
“They’ll never even find my body.”
“Oh for the love of . . . Malfoy, get a grip -”
“How could this happen to me?”
“Malfoy! SHUT UP!”
~*~
It starts with an innocuous training exercise. A mandatory training exercise. Truth be told, Harry’s been waiting for a chance to finally step out into the field and actually use all the defensive and offensive spells they have been reading about for a long time.
Of course, that was before he learnt that firstly, they couldn’t choose their own partner so there went down the drain all the plans of camping with Ron, and secondly, because he just can’t catch a break, the higher powers decided that he and Malfoy would make a really good team.
While, fine, there is a point to be made here because it is true that he and Malfoy make a really good team, what with Malfoy’s extensive knowledge of tracking and planning and Harry’s penchant for attacking and then learning, that doesn’t mean he wants to spend an entire day stuck just with Malfoy. Okay, whenever they’ve been paired with each other in the past they’ve worked quite well together but… seriously...again?
After moaning, cursing and crying about it Harry finds himself trekking through an unknown forest with a stoic Malfoy by his side, who only opens his mouth to lament about the state of his shoes and his disregard for this entire exercise.
Maybe if they had been paying more attention to their path and less on bickering they wouldn’t have lost the map. Maybe if they had spent more time trying to find the map than blaming each other they would have been able to reach the campsite before the storm hit.
Hour 2
Malfoy is the one who spots the cabin. Harry tries not to feel resentful about it.
It appears Muggle, there are no wards protecting it, only an electric alarm that’s easy to dismantle. Harry marches in, paying no heed to Malfoy, who seems conflicted for reasons Harry can’t, and doesn’t want to fathom.
Hour 3
Harry manages to light the fire, open a bottle of wine and light some candles. Even though the electricity isn’t on and there seems to be little in the way of food besides crackers, it’s enough for them to spend the night and wait for the storm to die out. Apparating is out of the question in weather like this and he feels exhausted, neither conditions conducive to a safe Apparation.
Or maybe he will only wait for the storm to die as Malfoy will surely freeze out in the cold. He would be okay with waiting it out till Malfoy decides to come inside but he knows they lose points if only one team member gets back. So he wraps himself up in the afghan from the sofa and steps outside, grunting as the cold wind whips around him, making him shiver.
“Malfoy,” Harry calls out in exasperation at the sight of the man in question huddled into his robes, his feeble warming charm providing no relief. Malfoy’s lips have a distinct blue tinge to them and that’s what makes Harry decide that enough is enough. Paying no heed to the weak curses being hurled his way he grabs hold of Malfoy’s arm and pulls him in, shutting and warding the door behind them.
“Bathroom. Now.”
He marches the other man down the hall, heading straight for the bathroom he’d spotted earlier while taking in the lay of the house. There’s only a fireplace in the house and that’s where Harry plans to sleep. As the tub fills with water, he helps Malfoy undress, ignoring his protests as it’s clear that Malfoy’s fingers are too frozen to unbutton his shirt.
“Undress and step in, I’ll try to whip up something warm for you,” Harry orders, stepping out to give Malfoy a modicum of privacy.
Hour 4
“Thank you.”
Harry looks up from the lone game of Solitaire he’s playing with a pack of cards he found in the bedroom. Malfoy looks nervous, the sweatshirt and pyjama bottoms that Harry unearthed hanging loose on his lean frame.
“”S okay, you want something to eat?”
Malfoy nods and take a seat on the floor next to Harry. They are settled against the couch, with the fire roaring in front of them and the storm raging outside and it’s comfortably cosy.
Hour 5
They finish the bottle of wine within forty minutes. The storm shows no signs of abating any time soon but Harry is too comfortable to worry about it. By mutual agreement they decide to just set up their beds in the living room, the heat from the fire more tempting than the bed. They pile up all the blankets and cushions they can find in front of the sofa, opting to create one big bundle of comfort because, “Sharing body heat will keep us warmer,” Malfoy says and Harry opts not to point out that the fire is doing a pretty swell job of that already.
Maybe it’s because he feels loose and warm in the way that wine and sleep can make him, the blanket nest is cosy and he feels like he can sleep for days, but Harry asks, “Did you not want to come in because it’s a Muggle’s house?”
Malfoy sits up, ignoring Harry’s whine as his blankets get pulled away.
“What . . no. . is that what you think?” He looks offended, and oddly betrayed.
Harry shrugs. “Not really but I can’t think of any other reason why you wouldn’t want to come in.”
“Well, if you must know,” Malfoy starts and clears his throat. Harry thinks he actually looks adorable with the flush staining his cheeks. A second later he thinks that maybe the wine had gone bad because there’s no other reason why he would be having such thoughts.
“Go on,” Harry urges gently, tugging at the blankets till Malfoy is once again nestled next to him, the blankets tucked around them.
“Did you know I’m still under probation?” Malfoy asks. Only his eyes and hair peek out from above the blanket and Harry is stunned by the sudden urge to brush back Malfoy’s hair from his face.
“No,” Harry answers, frowning as he tries to remember Malfoy’s trial. He had attended the first day to give his testimony but that’s it, there had been a lot going on then for him to pay attention to the outcome.
“I am. Kingsley had to make a request to the Wizengamot to make them allow me to enter the Auror Training. They were quite against it, to be honest and I don’t blame them, but Kingsley was adamant and he made them give me a chance.”
“Kinglsey has a knack of spotting the good in people.”
Malfoy laughs, the sound wrong, filled with bitter humor. “He does, even when there’s nothing to find.”
“That’s a matter of perspective, Malfoy.” Harry is struck by the amount of self loathing in Malfoy’s eyes, the wry humor that he twists to mock himself. “And of course the Wizengamot saw something in you too, it doesn’t matter how persuasive Kingsley was, they can be quite forceful when they want to be.”
“Anyway,” Malfoy deflects, pulling at a loose thread in a cushion, “they agreed and here I am but I’m still under probation and this is breaking and entering . . .”
Harry smiles. “Look at you, toeing the line.”
“Don’t be fooled Potter,” Malfoy teases, the playful smirk replacing the worried frown. “Underneath this goody-two-shoes act, I’m still as evil as ever.”
“Uh huh.” Harry laughs, turning onto his side to face Malfoy, “I’m onto your nefarious act to steal all the blankets.”
Malfoy winks and Harry’s lost in the reflection of the flames in Malfoy’s eyes.
Hour 6
“ . . and then Ron starts complaining about the number of midnight trips he has to make to the market and let me tell you, Hermione was not happy about that. She really let him have it and . . hey, Malfoy?”
Harry trails off as Malfoy smacks his lips in his sleep, his pale eyelashes trembling against his cheek as he dreams. He tells himself it’s not creepy if he’s only looking to make sure that Malfoy isn’t having a nightmare.
Yeah, he doesn’t believe it either.
He’s lost in thoughts of tucking his head into the crook of Malfoy’s neck, if the skin would be warm and smell of vanilla that he generally catches a whiff of would be stronger there, when he hears a whimper. Malfoy is frowning in his sleep, his fingers twitching and without thinking Harry moves closer. He places one hand on Malfoy’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over the bruised skin under his eyes while he holds onto Malfoy’s hand with the other.
Malfoy wakes slowly, Harry coaxing him out of it till he’s blinking sleepily.
“Potter?” Malfoy whispers, voice weakened by sleep and he looks so young and vulnerable, like the boy that had to grow up too fast.
“Shh,” Harry assures him, moving closer till he can pull Malfoy against his chest. “I’m here, go to sleep.”
He tries staying awake, to keep watch for more nightmares but Malfoy’s soft puffs of breath against his neck and the feel of his heart beating under his palm pulls Harry under too.
Hour 10
Harry wakes with a crick in his neck and the feeling of pins and needles in his left arm. He blinks blearily, the fire is no longer roaring but the residual heat is keeping the room warm, the muted light from the embers making it easier for him to adjust.
“Looks like the storm has finally slowed down.”
Malfoy looks, and Harry is really struggling to find another word here, but the fact is that Malfoy looks adorable. His eyes are scrunched against the weak light, one fist coming up to rub out the sleep, the usually well slicked hair is messy and falling all over his face.
“Umm, yeah.” Harry coughs, aware that he’s been staring. Following onto the heels of that awareness comes the realisation that they’re still in the same position as they slept in. He blinks and tries to subtly move his arm from where it’s wedged under Malfoy, who apparently has different ideas as he rolls over and tucks himself into Harry’s side.
“Sleep now,” he says, patting Harry’s chest, “it’s still dark outside.”
He’s only human and the lure of spending more time against Malfoy underneath a pile of blankets is just too hard to resist.
Hour 12
The next time he wakes up, Harry instantly knows he’s alone.
“I made you some tea.”
Malfoy is on the sofa, holding onto a cup with both hands. He looks nervous, the earlier playfulness missing at the sun rise.
“Thanks,” Harry croaks, his voice still sleep wreaked. “Where did you find the tea?”
Malfoy flushes and Harry curls his fingers around the cup he’s been handed, the temptation to reach out and touch is too strong.
“It was hidden right at the back, thought we could use some before we head out in search of everyone else.”
Harry nods. He doesn’t know why or how but everything is awkward now and he’s missing their earlier ease with an ache.
“Listen -”
“I’m sorry-”
Harry gestures for Malfoy to go first, he doesn’t know what to say anyway.
“I’m sorry about last night,” Malfoy starts, staring down at his tea like it holds the answers to the universe.
“Why? I mean, yeah, you did hog the blankets but that’s okay, I managed to steal them back.”
He’s glad to see Malfoy’s lips twitch but just as soon he’s back to frowning again.
“No, I meant with the nightmare and then . . . “
“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry waits till the man is looking at him before he continues, making sure to maintain eye contact, “it’s okay. It’s not something you can control, I would know because I used to get them too.”
Malfoy shrugs, looking too unconvinced for Harry’s liking.
“No, listen,” he urges, moving till he’s next to Malfoy on the sofa. Before he knows it he’s placed the cup from Malfoy’s hand on the side table so that they can hold hands. “It’s okay. Perfectly. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Malfoy looks up, smiles and Harry’s gone.
“Go out with me.”
It’s a good thing that he’s holding onto Malfoy’s hand because he looks a minute away from bolting.
“Wh - what? Are you crazy, Potter?”
Harry laughs. “It’s too soon or I would definitely say something like, Crazy about you, Malfoy.”
Malfoy rolls his eyes but Harry can see the smile at the corners of his lips.
“I’m serious, go out with me. Tomorrow.”
There’s less hesitancy now but Harry can almost see Malfoy calculating the pros and cons.
“Don’t think so much about it, it’s just two friends getting together. Dinner at my place or we can go some place else, I don’t care. Just say yes.”
“You’re serious,” Malfoy breathes.
“As the rain,” Harry quips, fighting back the urge to cheer. He’s glad he didn’t think this through, he feels exhilarated.
“What would people say?”
“Good thing I’ve never cared about that, yeah?”
Malfoy laughs. “I can’t believe I’m even thinking about it.”
“Just say yes. We can worry about everything else later.”
Harry waits, his thumb rubbing circles against Malfoy’s palm.
“Okay.”
Harry feels awesome.
Hour 13
Thwack!
Harry stumbles and almost falls. They’ve been walking for an hour, relying on their wands to direct them towards the camp. He smirks at the sound of Malfoy chuckling. It takes just a flick, before perfectly formed snow balls are targeting the Slytherin, making him whine and curse Harry.
“That’s not fair, Potter! No magic allowed.”
“Is that so,” Harry says, bending to pick up snow. He can see Malfoy doing the same across from him and there’s a strange joy in being so carefree, in seeing Malfoy laugh uninhibitedly.
Thwack!
Thwack!
Within minutes they’re both flat on their backs, breaths puffing in front of them as they pant with exertion.
“I haven’t laughed this much in ages,” Malfoy whispers next to him. Harry leans up on an elbow and takes in Malfoy’s flushed cheeks and wide smile.
“I should warn you then, stick with me and there will be lots more of that.”
They move together, lips brushing hesitantly at first before they gain confidence. Malfoy pulls back, leaning his forehead against Harry’s.
“Bring it on, Potter.”
And Harry does just that.