a Goodbye Too Heavy
Chapter 18: a Goodbye Too Heavy
Winter break was just around the corner.
Three weeks without school.
Three weeks the Slytherins looked forward to—luxurious vacations, expensive gifts, and carefree days.
Three weeks that Harry would spend back with the Dursleys.
While the others packed their trunks with excitement and made plans for the holidays, Harry lay curled up on Draco’s bed, staring into nothing.
He could only hope the three weeks would pass quickly.
That he’d somehow get through it.
But the thought of being apart from his pack—his family—was almost too much to bear.
Nott noticed Harry’s mood first.
He tried the method that always worked—Harry’s favorite toy.
He rolled the little enchanted ball across the room, made it bounce magically, directed it just right to catch Harry’s attention.
But nothing happened.
Harry didn’t even look.
No twitch of the ears.
No wag of the tail.
No amused growl.
He simply ignored it.
Then, without a word, he shifted back into human form, stood up—and left the room.
Silence.
The others exchanged confused glances.
“Okay,” Zabini said slowly. “That was… new.”
“He’s never acted like that before,” Pansy murmured, frowning.
“He can be scared, angry, even sulky…” Nott added. “But this?”
Draco knew.
He knew exactly what it was.
He took a deep breath and rubbed his face.
“It’s because he can’t stay here over the holidays.”
The others fell silent.
It made sense.
Harry was used to having them around all the time.
He was never alone anymore.
And now, he’d be gone for three weeks.
Three weeks without his pack.
Draco thought for a moment.
Then he had an idea.
When Harry returned that night to sleep, something was waiting for him on Draco’s bed.
A small, snow-white plush wolf with a red ribbon tied around its neck.
Harry froze in the doorway.
He stared at the stuffed animal.
Then slowly turned to Draco, his expression questioning—but also… confused.
Draco was leaning back against his pillow, arms folded behind his head, a faint, distant smile on his lips.
“Merry Christmas, Potter.”
Harry said nothing.
He stepped closer, gently picked up the plush wolf.
It was soft.
Perfectly sewn—almost an exact miniature of himself in wolf form.
Harry’s fingers traced the fur of the toy.
He swallowed hard.
Draco watched him closely.
He knew Harry didn’t need grand speeches.
But he could see what it meant.
That it wasn’t just a gift.
It was a message.
A sign that he wasn’t forgotten.
That he was still part of the pack.
No matter where he was.
After a long silence, Harry finally looked up.
He met Draco’s gaze.
And then—quietly, barely audible—he said:
“Thank you.”
Draco grinned. “Don’t think you’re getting away with not writing for three weeks, Potter. I expect at least one letter a day.”
Harry snorted softly.
But this time, it was a real smile.
He sat on the bed, holding the plush wolf close—and that night, he fell asleep with a piece of his pack in his arms.
______________________________________________
The station was full of people, voices, and movement.
But to Harry, it felt like the world had gone still.
He stood with his suitcase beside Draco, Zabini, Nott, and Pansy, his heart heavy in his chest.
His pack.
And he had to leave them.
Three weeks.
Three weeks without their voices, their laughter, their warmth.
Three weeks alone in a house that never felt like home.
He knew it was only temporary.
That he’d be back.
But right now, it felt like he was losing something.
He wanted to jump into Draco’s suitcase.
Or stay behind in his wolf form, hide somewhere until the holidays were over.
But that wasn’t possible.
He had to go.
Behind him, he could already feel the impatient stares of the Dursleys.
He could practically sense Uncle Vernon grinding his teeth, about to explode if Harry didn’t finally head toward the car.
He knew he didn’t have much time.
So he kept the goodbye short.
He looked at the others, his fingers clenched tightly around his suitcase handle.
Draco looked back calmly, but in his gray eyes was an unspoken command: Stay in touch.
Nott gave him a firm nod, as if to say: You’ve got this.
Pansy crossed her arms, but her eyes were soft, almost… worried.
And Zabini gave him a crooked grin. “Don’t forget, Potter—letters. Every day.”
Harry only nodded.
He wanted to say something.
Wanted to tell them he’d miss them.
But the words stuck in his throat.
Instead, he let his gaze sweep over them one more time.
His pack.
His family.
Then, with one last, sorrowful look, he turned and walked away.
His heart felt like a stone, his feet dragging him reluctantly toward the Dursleys’ car.
He didn’t want to go.
Every part of him screamed to turn around. To stay.
But he didn’t.
He did what he always did.
He clenched his teeth.
And with a quiet sigh, climbed into the car.
The door closed with a dull click.
And as the car pulled away, Harry left the station behind.
But his pack…
His pack, he carried in his heart.