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When Draco steps out of the car, he hears the gentle crash of the waves and feels the breeze ruffle his hair. It was discernibly quiet compared to the city but it wasn’t unsettling or oppressive. Instead, it was like coming up for air.
As he closes the passenger side door, Draco watches the clouds drift across the sky, giving way to the morning sun as its rays illuminate various parts of the town.
He never thought of visiting Dover before but Harry wanted to see.
See what?
The sea of course.
Harry had said it with a straight face. His humour will never elude Draco.
Seriously, though. Haven’t you ever thought of seeing those white cliffs everyone always raves about?
They were curled up on the couch of their living room, two steaming cups of tea on the coffee table (english breakfast for Harry and earl grey for Draco). It was pouring outside, and they opted for a lazy Saturday rather than facing London’s torrential fall weather.
I saw them in a book once. Draco nods pointedly at the book Harry was pouring over. “The Big Book of the UK” was a gift that Draco bought him for Christmas given Harry’s newfound love for driving and road trips.
Draco watched as Harry rolled his eyes with a faint smile.
You know it’s not the same! Will you go with me?
Frankly, Draco would follow him anywhere.
When do you want to go?
The author says it’s lovely in the spring.
—
On a Friday morning in April, Harry drives them out of their city that never sleeps.
They don’t look back.
—
Draco is slowly nodding off as he leans against the car door watching Harry drive and faintly hum along to the radio.
When they first reconnected since high school, it was at some high-end bar to celebrate Pansy’s birthday. No one could’ve expected their friend groups to overlap but Pansy and Hermione apparently bonded over home decor of all things in the middle of IKEA one fateful day.
It was after a round of drinks when Harry asked if he wanted to take a walk.
Where?
Anywhere.
From Covent Garden to Piccadilly Circus and up along Regent street, the years between them seemed to dissipate within a night. Now, it’s been roughly four years since Draco and Harry had built a life together.
Draco’s attention turns to the sprawling pastures. He can’t help but think of how fast the months and similarly, each week seemed to pass by. Monday drudgery, Wednesday takeout, Thursday pub nights with friends, Saturday sleep ins, Sunday brunches with work piled in between. There is comfort in routines.
That was until Harry presented him with two train tickets to Paris one Friday afternoon roughly a year and a half since they first moved in together. Draco simply quirked an eyebrow and started packing a carry-on.
He can still remember the glittering lights over the Seine, the timeless Hausmann buildings, and Harry’s animated musings about how the French must be food geniuses!
But most of all, Draco remembers how they got caught in rain while walking through Luxembourg Gardens and how Harry took his hand and ran. Harry looked at him over his shoulder, laughing with unadulterated joy and despite the uncomfortable way his hair fell into in his eyes and his clothes started dampening, Draco couldn’t stop thinking about how beautifully alive Harry was in that moment, how he too felt so alive.
When they finally found cover under a white gazebo, Draco couldn’t stop smiling.
I want this forever.
You and me both.
Soon after, any spare weekend became another escapade to some European city: San Sebastian, Venice, Bordeaux, Prague, Amsterdam, and the list goes on. It felt like they would need a whole lifetime to experience it all. Not to mention how Asia and the Americas are still a mystery. But eventually, forty-eight hour periods of travelling were simply not enough. Their promotions at the Ministry didn’t help either. The work was enjoyable but never-ending, keeping them grounded in London. Those weekends of travelling feel like a distant dream.
That was around the same time Harry decided to get his driver’s licence and came home one day in a red convertible. Their first drive together was to Wiltshire to visit Narcissa. It was sunny and quaint and as they flew along the highway, Draco knew, this is it . It was that sense of freedom in going somewhere, anywhere, that he craved. Harry said he felt the same way. Draco was easily convinced to get his own licence.
So here they are, something of a road trip without an end date, fuelled by months of unbearable longing to leave, to see, to live.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Harry reaches over and laces their hands together. Draco’s eyes refocus on his profile.
“Just reminiscing.”
Harry nods solemnly. “About how I swept you off your feet?”
“I am sure it was me who offered to buy you a drink” Draco replies with a sleepy smile. Harry grins and squeezes his hand.
“I was thinking about you though. Us, Paris.”
Harry’s eyes softened. “Those were the days.”
Some of the best days of our lives.
“But I’m glad we’re here.”
“Me too.”
Harry glances at the GPS. “We will be there in a bit over an hour, I will wake you up when we’re there?”
“Thank you.” For everything is left unsaid.
Draco allows himself to finally drift off.
And when Harry parks them outside a cottage overlooking the sea, their journey officially begins with the promise of something new.