The Follower
The full moon was exceptionally swiss cheesy looking tonight. Harry often wondered what made all those craters on its milky surface.
Too bad he never went to school. Or learned how to read.
Draco was teaching him, but it was hard to focus. Not unless his adrenaline was pumping, not unless he was crouched in some alcove, one hand on a knife and the other on a wound, a bleeding shadow ready to strike. It was then that he had razor focus. All the tiny details came into view like the pours on a close-up nose, offering Harry a world of violent possibilities and joy. Not that he enjoyed their little "missions" or anything. He licked his lips in anticipation.
"Calm yourself, Harry, you'll have to disappear soon." Draco scoffed without looking back at him. Harry jogged up to the shorter boy, tall grass swishing against his pocket-clad pants.
"How much do you think you'll get from him?" Harry asked.
The moonlight cast deep shadows on Draco's already sharp face. He looked so pretty like this.
"The question is, what won't I get from him?" His hands twitched in harmony with Harry's fidgeting. He wasn't the only one who got off on this.
The risk.
The reward.
The rush. Nothing makes one feel more alive than being one inch from death.
Although Harry expected Draco liked it for a very different reason. Draco was bored. He learned too quickly, puzzles weren't puzzling enough. He kept going bigger and bigger. Each mission more dangerous than the last. Draco took down his competition like pawns on a chessboard, and Harry intended to be right there with him until the final foe. Until there were no more pieces left on the board but the king and his rook.
That's what he thought, anyway. He was as young as the night and the darkness brought on so many variables. But he didn't have to worry about that right now. That pain was for a future Harry. Right now all he had to focus on was…
The blonde snapped his fingers and Harry immediately veered left into the shadows.
***
He kept low to the ground, his feet barely touching the marshy earth long enough to leave prints. The unkempt grass kept him hidden along the myriad of mosquitoes who darted around him like a blood magnet. He swatted at his neck.
Harvati Manor was built on top of the stupidest location for a manor ever. The large milky building was lined with heavy marble pillars that sunk the house into the wetland more than it held it up. The once grand staircase was a muddy joke now, wooden ramps and steps piled over the white stone for greater traction. For a house of business, it was ludicrously removed from the city. Nevertheless, Chateau Harvati was still a sight to behold despite the stink of the surrounding swamp. (Even if its upkeep cost more than its construction.)
The half-elf approached the house like a prowling tiger, eyes two steps ahead of his feet - already spotting potential footholds along the manor’s neglected west wall.
Contrary to Harry’s sneaking, Draco strode up to the overly well-lit entrance, nothing but an obese satchel in hand and a winning smile like a door-to-door salesman.
Harry watched as the only guard that could have maybe spotted him took a self-appointed smoke break.
“Me too mate…” He mumbled as he easily sneaked by. His black clothes absorbed the moonlight as he scrabbled up the wall like a lizard.
Reaching the top, he crouched towards one of the buildings’ many grandiose skylights, joining the moths and insectoid riff-raff collated there.
"Security my arse…" he mused, taking out the knife in his boot and oiling it with the oddly floral-smelling cloth Draco had given him.
He brushed some bugs aside and peered through the foggy window. Draco stood framed beneath the lofty doorway like a charming painting of Death. He nodded humbly at the butler in front of him with a kind smile even as two guards grabbed his arms and searched him.
The butler opened his bag and his expression quickly shifted into something akin to greed. Or perhaps desperation.
The boy's pink lips moved in a satisfied grin as the butler scrabbled off to fetch someone.
***