The wind was softly rustling through the trees and Harry could hear the small animals of the forest disturbing the loose leaves on the ground. The chill of the autumn air was creeping it's way in their tent, the warming charms Ron had casted before he left have long since faded. No one remembered to redo the charms, he guesses.
Harry quickly casted the charm and then finally letting himself flop down gracelessly on his cot. It had been three long fucking weeks since Ron ditched them. He hated remembering the choice words they both exchanged and thinking of the spells they would've used on each other if Hermione hadn't been there. Harry cringed at the memory.
Well, forget him, if he couldn't keep up with everything it wasn't Harry's fault. At least that's the mantra Harry tells himself when he hears Hermione cry at night. He sighed weakly, hoping in vain once again that his best friend would just come back.
He took off his glasses and set them aside. For a moment he just laid there in utter discomfort. He groaned in frustration, feeling absolutely restless and ran his hands over his face none to gently. He really wished his mind would just allow sleep to take over and give him a break.
Before, about a week after Ron left, he had taken to leaving past the protection of their camp to see if he could find anything useful. He never did, but at least it was something to do. Once Hermione found out after one night of not being careful enough to avoid her on her watch, she had strictly forbidden him from doing that anymore. It was one of many arguments that made itself home in the camp.
"You're running yourself into the ground, Harry, and I won't just stand aside and let you! You'll get yourself killed! You could have been killed and I wouldn't have even known it!" her yelling rings clear in his head. He still felt horrible for upsetting her so much, especially after what happened with Ron.
So now all he's only been able to toss and turn all throughout the night.
He just felt so useless. His friends, his family, were tearing apart at the seams and it feels like his fault. The world was on the brink of ending and he was the one people were looking to to fix it. The Golden Boy, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived- he laughed bitterly, fat lot of good those titles have done him. He barely feels like half of what he's supposed to be; of what he's supposed to live up to. Instead of being some grand hero, he's just some freak kid that used to live in a fucking cupboard under the stairs. Yeah, the world's in great hands.
He shook his head, trying to dispel his train of thoughts, even tried that breathing technique that Hermione showed them all. His heavy breaths fill the silence, and his eyes bore into the top of the tent, only a dim lantern light for comfort.
A few moments passed before his attention was grabbed by a soft grunt that came from the cot next to his own. He looked over and saw a tuft of blonde hair peeking out from the thin sheet. He could see the minute twitches and trembling and realized Draco must be having another night terror. They've plagued everyone in the tent, but Draco's always seemed so violent. As if his mind was on a war path to genuinely kill him. That, Harry could relate to.
Harry tried to quietly shifted his cot to be closer to Draco. Taking a once over at the shaking figure, he hesitantly brought his hand to move the sheet from Draco's face, careful not to startle him awake. As the sheet was pulled away Harry could see tears running down the sides of his face. Unthinking, he gently put his hand on Draco's shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and fourth. Mrs. Weasley's done that for him many times when he's shaking in bed at night. It always helped.
His arm grew tired fast, so he took to quickly moving the sweaty hair out of Draco's face before moving away fully. Draco's crying seemed to slow and Harry was grateful at that. He needed rest and if this was the way Harry could help, then so be it. God knows all of them need the sleep. They had exhausted the sleeping draught Hermione had packed within the first four weeks of this hell.
The sleep that had been alluding him decided to finally make its claim on him and he had to crawl back into his own cot so he could get at least an hours rest before it was his turn to take watch from Hermione. Still staying close enough to the other boy, Harry turned over and shut his eyes.
He doesn't know for how long he had been asleep when he was woken up by what sounded like muffled cries. Harry had always been a light sleeper and for once he's glad about it. Immediately he was on alert, quickly sitting up and reaching over to put on his glasses. Once on, he looked at the source of the noise.
Draco, awake and hunched over, crying as quietly as he could into his hands. Ah, it was another nightmare then. He scooted over to where Draco was, who had apparently tried to distance himself from Harry because he was a lot further away then what he remembered.
"What, uh, what happened?" he asked tentatively. Draco's never given him any answer before but Harry refuses to stop asking anyways.
"Nothing, it's fine," Draco whispered stiffly. "Is it my turn to take over watch next?" he asked, valiantly pretending Harry couldn't hear the wobble in his voice and red blotches on his face.
"Draco, c'mon. Tell me what's wrong this time. Please," he asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. He's not sure why he even bothers pushing it anymore. Maybe it's so he can finally get more sleep without being woken up. Maybe it's cause he wants to stop seeing Draco so decidedly unDraco like. It's weird.
"I said it was nothing, leave it alone," Draco snapped at him. Icy blue eyes narrowing at him as he shifted closer. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes at the resistance but he did sigh.
"No. You keep waking up from only getting an hour of sleep. Your eye bags could pass for black eyes-" Draco rolled his eyes at that and muttered "Now that's just being dramatic, Potter." Harry ignored this and kept going. "The point is- We're here for you Draco. I'm here for you. You can't just keep turning away from us if we have to work together."
"Rich coming from you," Draco scoffed. "As if I couldn't hear the argument you and Granger had. You sneaking out, recklessly putting yourself and us in danger. Just because you can't cope with the cards dealt," the blonde sneered, scooting himself away an inch.
Harry took a long breath and looked up to the top of the tent. His lips pursed and his fist clenched. Another breath. His fist let go of the tension. He knew Draco was just itching for a fight. Something familiar.
"Fine," he said, shrugging, "Fine. If you don't want to talk, then don't. I'm not fighting. Sorry for bothering you," he grumbled and started to get up to check on Hermione, might as well take his shift a few hours early if this is how his nights shaping up to be.
"Ugh, fuck. Just- wait," Draco grunted, rubbing his hands roughly across his face. Harry stopped and sat down fully again, his eyebrow raised. "Look, I'm- I'm sorry, okay? I don't want to start fights. I know I do it anyways. I know that's part of why Weasley left."
Harry wanted to say something, but couldn't exactly say he wasn't right. Ron had been more and more agitated because of the horcrux and Draco was like oil to the fire. He was paranoid Draco could be a double agent, like Snape, he was angry everyone else forgave him when he levied some of the most cruel insults to his family. The family he now had to listen to the radio for just to see if they were still alive.
"I was told my mouth would get me in trouble. Probably should have listened to that old witch, Trelawney, when she told me. But how was I to know she wasn't just crazy." He huffed out a bitter laugh.
"Yeah, well, a broken clock is right twice a day. I guess she was right about you and then me, huh?" Harry joked in an attempt to mend the fractured conversation. Draco gave a small smirk and Harry considered it a win.
There was a pregnant pause, neither really knowing where to go from there. It was Draco who ended up breaking the silence.
"I am sorry, you know. For everything." He murmured, looking down at his fidgeting hands.
"I do know, you've said as much more than once. Or else you wouldn't be here right now, even if you were an asset." Harry assured. In truth, Draco would be with the death eaters if Harry hadn't taken a chance. A very, very risky chance. The order didn't feel information could be safe with him there, and Draco didn't feel they wouldn't rat his location out if they placed him in a safe home.
"Sometimes I wonder why you let me come. Why you even helped me before. Why you trust me. It doesn't make sense. I wouldn't've done the same for you." Draco said. He sounded more convinced than he looked. Harry laughed a bit and Draco's eyes shot to his. "What? What's so funny?" he demanded defensively.
"Nothin', nothin', I swear." Harry smiled, putting his arms up in mock surrender. Draco continued to glare. "It's just.. I know you would've. Push comes to shove and I know you would've helped me if I needed it. Maybe I didn't know then, but I know now. Face it, Draco, under the cold bastard exterior, you're actually a big softie inside." Harry ragged, shrugging his shoulders like he just made a 'well what can you do about it' point.
Draco tutted and crossed his arms but it held no genuine frustration. "Hah hah," he said dryly, "You wish, Potter." he retorted with a slight smile on his face, betraying his sarcasm. Harry returned the smile for a second before getting on with his actual point.
"Seriously though, you don't give yourself enough credit. Not when it comes to this anyways. Merlin knows you credit yourself with everything else," he joked again but pushed past it quickly this time, only barely seeing Draco's perfected bitchface.
"Really, I mean it. You know sometimes I wonder if you think you're just as bad as Vol- as you know who with how you talk. And you're not. Nowhere near. You wanted out and you got out. You have been helping us. You've tried to make amends and didn't push it when you weren't received warmly.
"I mean, shit, Draco, you left everything to be better. You put a target on your head just so you wouldn't have to kill anyone. So yeah, for me that more than proves why you should be here, with us, with me," he said resolutely, leaning forward to try and get Draco to look at him. He didn't.
Draco just hummed in response. After a few beats of silence he muttered something, a whisper. "Je suis désolée de t'avoir laissée seule, je suis désolée, maman." The words weren't meant for him, Harry knew this. For one, they were french. For two, a second later Draco did address him.
"Do you think my mother is alive?" It was said idly, as if talking about the weather.
Harry's face winced a bit in sympathy. He took a small moment to think of a response. In reality, they both know she could be dead. She could dead tomorrow, or the next. Life is not guarantied, easily gone away with a few words and a raised arm. Your body's already cold before you hit the ground in war.
"I think... That she is going to make sure she'll find you if the time comes. No matter what. I don't think she'd die without you knowing." he answered finally.
Draco nodded minutely, his eyes started to cloud, unable to muster up any other response. Harry put his hand on Draco's shoulder in a form of what he hopes to be comfort. He let it drop as Draco started talking. "I'm terrif- I'm worried that the day will come I have to fight my friends, the people I grew up with. I know you think they're just bullies. I guess they are. But I.." he stopped himself, looking at the tent entrance with an unreadable expression. Harry let the silence stretch.
"You know Pansy- Parkinson, that is- well her and I, we've known each other for our whole lives. She came to all the parties hosted by mother and father. I found her annoying at first... she was shrill and clingy. Still is, really." he said almost fondly as he huffed out a small laugh, "But.. after awhile we got to know each other. We would sneak away from the dull parties and we'd pull little pranks, with the little magic we could do at the time, on all the people we found insufferable. She became my best friend.
"Then, when we got into Hogwarts, we kinda drifted away a bit. Wasn't till third year with that ridiculous 'injury'- sorry, again, about that- that we started really talking again. We thought it'd be funny to annoy everyone. As always, she took that role very seriously." he shook his head, smiling lightly. Soon it dropped as he remembered why he was talking about her in the first place.
"I miss her. I was... I was horrible to her last year. For all I know she thinks I abandoned her. I don't want to fight her. She's.. She's not a fighter, not really. It's partly why we got along so well, you know. Both of us talk big but we're not willing to risk it when it comes down to it." he laughed mirthlessly and rolled his eyes, "Yet here I am."
Harry was really at a loss for words, he was surprised that Draco was talking so openly at all, let alone about someone he was close with. He wanted to comfort him, but really, how can anyone be comforted in war? So all he muttered in return was a feint, "Here you are."
Draco sighed deeply and looked up to the ceiling, Harry mimicking him did the same.
"It's not fair. Any of this. Why you have to be the one to stop the dark l- to stop you know who. Why kids have to fight or die. Why families are killing each other. It's not fair," Draco nose scrunched up in anger.
"It's not," Harry agreed mildly, his jaw twitching. Of course he agreed, who wouldn't. War is unfair, death in war is unfair. But Harry knew that train of thought was useless, it doesn't help anyone. He agonized over it too much, especially when Sirius was murdered. It made him reckless, seeking fights with abandon. Nothing felt fair his whole life. Die how you live, people say. Harry supposes he will.
"Do you think we'll win?" Draco asked in a muted whisper, afraid of the answer. Harry looked fully over to him and looked him up and down for a second, noting the fear that Draco tried to hide.
"We have to, don't we?" Harry answered, shrugging like his words don't sit heavy on his shoulders. "We don't have the option of losing."
"If I die, Potter," Draco started cautiously. Harry already didn't like where this was going. "I need you to know..." he trailed off, seemingly thinking better about something before shaking his head, "Never mind, forget it."
"What?" Harry pushed as gently as he could, though his curiosity wants to push more. Draco took in a shaky breath and exhaled heavily. Draco was about to talk again when the tent flap opened. They both whipped their heads around, Draco already reaching for his wand when Hermione fully stepped in.
"Oh, you're both up. Couldn't sleep, either of you?" she asked, disappointed but not surprised at the discovery. She shuffled a bit to her bed and sat down.
"No, rough night," Harry replied in a groan, running his hands through is severely mussed up hair. "Sorry, 'Mione. I'm still good for watch though, don't worry. I think I at least got in two hours." he said, getting up and starting to gather the things he'll need for watch.
Hermione raised her brow, unimpressed at his so called accomplishment, but said nothing. They both knew she needed sleep, she had been working herself way too thin.
"Hmm. Just be careful. If you start to doze off-" she started but he interrupted her, walking closer. "I know, I know, come back and wake either of you to take over post. I know, Hermione," he said kindly, putting his hand on her arm. She smiled tiredly at him and muttered an I know back.
"I'll be back. Get some sleep," he said to both of them, his eyes back on Draco, who looked just looked sad. He raised his eyebrows at him and tilted his head, are you okay? He got a small, unconvincing nod back. Harry pursed his lips, wanting to know what Draco was going to say, but having to leave it. He shook his head as he left the tent, he needs to be focused. He'll have to talk with Draco later. If there even was a later guaranteed.