Coming Home

The music bled through the line of trees long before Harry and Draco stepped into the clearing of The Burrow. Draco tried desperately to match Harry’s calm and ease in every step, but as the lights drew nearer and the conversation began to hum in Draco’s ears, he felt his heart race in his chest.

Harry squeezed his hand as they walked through the crowd, no doubt feeling how clammy he had become. Draco smiled pleasantly, trying to ignore the stares of the people who must not have heard of his newfound relationship with Harry.

“Quite the turnout already!” Harry exclaimed as they finally reached the circle of Weasley’s near the edge of the makeshift dance floor.
Ron embraced Harry with a laugh before doing the same to Draco. Draco hugged him back briefly, surprised by the gesture, as the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione greeted them as well.

Draco tried not to pay much attention to the way Ginny shifted awkwardly on her heels, greeting them quickly and quietly before disappearing in the crowds.

“Well, shall we?” Hermione asked, gesturing towards the swarm of dancing people.

Draco stifled a groan at the idea of being forced to dance, nevertheless forced to dance in front of a crowd of people, but he smiled as Harry pulled him along, bringing him to stand beside Ron and Hermione as they began to move to the music.

Harry held both of Draco’s hands, pulling him along as he danced, causing Draco’s body to echo the movements to the beat. He couldn’t help but laugh, feeling so ridiculous, yet so happy to spend this time with Harry. It only made him laugh more when Harry’s laugh joined in, pulling Draco closer before spinning him under his arm.

The lights twinkled above them and all around the floor, casting shadows of the dancers along the ground as the music played. Harry pulled Draco close again, this time to kiss him gently before spinning him around again.

“Sick.” Draco heard, a distinct, pointed, voice louder than the roar of the crowd around them. “All we went through just for him to end up with that.”

Draco stopped dancing, turning on his heel to face the voice, only to confirm a small group of men staring right at him and Harry. Draco dropped one of Harry’s hands, stepping in front of him slightly.

“Have something to say?” Draco asked, looking the speaker directly in the eye.

The man smiled, shrugging as he stepped closer. There was something familiar about him, but Draco was sure he hadn’t met him before.
“I do, actually.” The man stepped closer still, closing the space between them.

Harry moved to step around Draco, but Draco held firm, his stance protective and strong.
“Well?” Draco taunted, cocking his head to one side.

The man only laughed.
“I find it funny that when we were in a war, you couldn’t be bothered to care to protect Harry or the rest of the students at Hogwarts.” The man began, his smile dropping. “And yet, here you are, all over him, dancing as though you belong.”

Draco didn’t move, didn’t respond. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron and Hermione take their place beside him and Harry.

“Do you realize how many innocent people died because of you?” The man asked, his eyes fogging over with tears. “Because of your father? Because of what the lot of you stood for?”

Draco still had no answer, he only breathed in and out evenly, trying not to notice as the area around them slowly emptied, people choosing to dance elsewhere and avoid this conflict.

“You let them kill my daughter.” The man nearly shouted, raising a finger at Draco. “And you think you can come here? To live amongst the survivors?”

The man took one step closer, eye to eye with Draco, mere inches away.
“You deserved to die there.” He hissed, and Draco could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You, your father, and every last one of those retched traitors you belong to.”

Ron put an arm on the man’s shoulder, a futile attempt to diffuse the situation.
“Please, Mr. Brown, this is not the time nor place for this.” Ron muttered. “Draco is different now, he’s—”

“He’s tricked you all then!” The man screamed, pushing Ron’s hand away from his shoulder. “He’s a deceiver like his father before him, he should be dead! Rotting in the earth, not my Lavender!”

Draco’s stomach dropped at the name.

This was Lavender’s father.

And he was right.
Draco should be dead, not her.

He didn’t even have time to react before he was on the ground, Harry falling beside him a moment later, shoving him out of the way.
Men appeared to pull Mr. Brown away as Draco turned to face Harry.

"You're a fool, Potter!" He screamed as they dragged him away from the dancefloor. "You'll only end up dead too!"

Harry's glasses were broken, and blood dripped from his nose as he looked up at Draco.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Draco shouted. “You didn’t deserve to—you shouldn’t have done that!”

He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, sitting Harry up as he began to blot at the blood dripping from his nose.
“I couldn’t stand back and let him hurt you, Draco.” Harry replied, brushing dust from Draco’s jacket as he spoke. “He shouldn’t have talked to you like that, it wasn’t right.”

Draco only shook his head, brushing one hand through Harry’s messed-up hair as he held the handkerchief to his nose with the other. He silently thanked Ron and Hermione as they stood behind them rekindling the dancing and distracting the guests as Draco helped Harry up and to a nearby table.

“Please tell me that you know he was wrong.” Harry murmured, resting a hand on Draco’s knee as he placed his broken glasses on the table.

Draco only sighed softly, pulling out his wand and fixing them with a simple spell.
“He wasn’t wrong, Harry.” Draco answered finally, carefully situating Harry's glasses onto his face. “And I know that he is not the only one who thinks those things.”

Harry only looked at him, his face a picture of pain at the idea of people not understanding who Draco was.
“I should do something.” Draco mused, running a hand through his hair. “I should find a way to help the people I hurt, the people who are still mourning a loss because of me.”

Harry sighed, shaking his head.
“It is not because of you, Draco.” He replied, squeezing Draco’s knee gently. “But, if this is something you want to do, count me in.”

Draco only smiled a small, broken smile at Harry, cupping his face with his hand gently. The music suddenly changed into a slow melody, and couples began to sway to the rhythm.
Harry stood up, reaching his hand out to Draco.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks, by the way.” Harry said with a smile. “I know you, and I want to dance with you.”

Draco laughed once, the sound hesitant, but took Harry’s hand anyway. Luckily, Harry did not pull Draco back onto the dancefloor, instead he pulled him further away, into the shadows on the outskirts of the party.

“I am not ashamed of you.” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear as he swayed with him gently. “I do not blame you for anything.”
Draco only nodded, burrowing his face into Harry’s chest as they danced.

"Do you fear that I will hurt you?" Draco whispered, the sound barely loud enough for Harry to hear.
He did not know if he wanted to hear the answer, he wasn't sure his heart would be able to take it.

Harry stopped dancing, reaching to cup Draco's chin in his hand, tilting his head up to look him in the eyes.

"I do not," Harry told him, all traces of humor wiped completely from his face. "think that you would hurt me."
Harry spoke clearly, sternly.

"I do not think that you would hurt anyone, Draco." Harry continued, his thumb brushing along Draco's jawline. "That is not who you are."

Draco smiled softly, nodding his head once as he tipped his face down to press a kiss against Harry's finger. He nuzzled back into his chest, beginning to sway to the music as Harry had been before.

"Dance with me, Harry." He murmured, relishing in the rumbling laughter in Harry's chest as he obliged.