Heartfelt Exchanges

Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.K. Rowling and her publishing affiliates. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Thank you, shadow samurai, for beta-reading these drabbles!

Hearts beating against each other. Life thrumming madly against a backdrop of gracefully falling snow. A moment of connection. Forgiveness and gratitude interwoven in their embrace.

“So you do have a heart,” Draco said. Same old smirk. Strangely glimmering eyes.

Feigned nonchalance. “Must be a Gryffindor thing….”

Draco’s smile grew sombre with unease and uncertainty.

Harry gazed intently at the blond, whose cheeks were tinged pink by the cold. “You’re not a killer, Draco. I’m beginning to think you have a heart, too.” He gestured toward the door invitingly.

Draco huffed. “Okay, but no heart-to-heart conversations. I’m still a—”

“Slytherin.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“How’d you find me?” Harry’s smile made Draco’s heart race.

“I hoped you’d come here for the holiday.”

“A necessary risk,” Harry said guardedly. “If you came for protection, Dumbledore’s offer still stands.”

“I wish that were possible, but I must go back, pretend nothing’s changed.”

“WHAT?! Why? Was your ‘I’m sorry’ speech even real?” Harry said with alarming vehemence that made Draco’s heart skip a beat.

“It was.” How quickly his heartache returned! How could Harry second-guess him after that perfect moment of understanding they’d shared?

“If I don't… they’re dead… Harry, HE’s staying at the Manor.”

“Fuck! Draco!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After Draco told him Voldemort was living in his home, Harry stood and paced angrily, tossing out random and progressively more implausible ideas to free Draco’s parents right from under Voldemort’s snakelike nose.

Finally, Draco said, “Harry, I came to ask for forgiveness I know I don’t deserve. But also to tell you I can at least do something… I have information that might be helpful.”

Harry regarded him with disbelief. “Voldemort would AK you right in the heart if he uncovered your deceit.”

“Hogwarts resumes tomorrow. He won’t have the opportunity to find out any of it. Now, listen….”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Obsession. How thoroughly it possessed the heart and soul! And Voldemort and Harry had both succumbed to it—allowing one of the three Deathly Hallows to pull upon their heartstrings, figuratively in Voldemort’s case. The heartless bastard. Harry had been ruminating about the Resurrection Stone for days. Obsessing, rather. Thankfully, Draco’s information brought him some much needed perspective. He must not become distracted from the Horcrux Hunt.

“Draco, tomorrow I return to… my dangerous mission. You return to a dangerous existence among Death Eaters. This… this may be goodbye.”

Would this be their last moment? The last of so few?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was Draco’s idea. A mutual exchange of priceless treasure. A broken but fine, golden heart locket for a silver snake necklace—a family heirloom. Draco’s fingers brushed Harry’s as he grasped the locket’s chain. He held them both, casting the Protean Charm on each. He silently handed the silver snake to Harry, whose eyes never left his as he slipped it around his neck. Draco felt the weight of the gold heart against his own. Harry’s. If only he really had Harry’s heart… A dangerous road… most likely leading to a heart broken like the gold one against it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Promises. Draco asked for another mutual exchange. He swore he’d return the gold locket he wore. Harry took a deep breath. He would not promise he’d be there to accept it or to return Draco’s heirloom. He’d kill Voldemort… or Voldemort would kill him. That was all, and it was all he could do to mask such sentimentalities in front of his old rival. It was, truthfully, gruesomely heart-wrenching to know this new beginning—a new chapter in the Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy story—might very well be the end, a story left unfinished.

No promises, then. Only professed hope.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

How could such heartfelt longings translate into formal and unemotive goodbyes? Their shaking hands suddenly tightened their hold, pulling them into a final embrace. As it had begun, so would it end.

Draco pulled back, still standing close. “I’ll be in touch.” His fingers brushed over the silver snake on Harry’s chest.

Draco’s eyes travelled upwards, pausing momentarily on the too-kissable lips before locking with Harry’s eyes. Rejection and regret playing a wretched game of tug-of-war with his heart. Regret won. Draco nodded, turned, and left, never knowing Harry was wholeheartedly wishing he’d had the nerve to kiss Draco.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry watched Draco walk back into the cold night, feeling a hole in his heart as if Draco had taken part of it with him. It suddenly began to tingle. Harry gasped, then realized it was the silver snake vibrating with magic. He cupped it in his hand and looked at the underside. There, as if it had been engraved, were the words, “Thank you, Harry.” They faded as quickly as they had come.

Harry smiled. Exchanges of treasure, of promise and hope, and of something unspoken… for part of Draco’s had filled the space, and Harry’s heart was whole.