Harry felt like he was hurt, that he was bleeding and had probably done even more serious damage, but just then his mind couldn't process anything beyond the visceral pain in his heart. He howled, like an animal, and curled in on himself.

He was nothing. He'd lost Draco, he'd lost his dream, he was a hundred miles from home and the world was probably ending so he might as well just let it get on with it and leave now.

He cried. He cried and cried and cried. He cried for pushing Draco away, he cried for the miserable wretch of a human being he was. He cried knowing he would never leave the Earth on a set of aluminium wings, because of course Draco was right. He had known it for so long, just lurking at the back of his mind where he refused to touch it, knowing somehow, deep down, it would shatter his dreams.

He was not good enough to be a hero.

"Harry?"

He jolted, but didn't make any attempt to get himself out of the ditch. Who knew where his bicycle or glasses had landed? So he glanced up to see a tall, blond figure approach, but that's all his tear-stained, crooked eyes could make out.

"Go away," he shouted thickly, his voice not even sounding like his own.

But Draco did not go away; of course he didn't. Bastard. "Harry," he said softly, his arms gently wrapping around Harry's shoulders and pulling him into him. Harry wanted to fight, to thrash and kick him away, but just like the pathetic sod he was, he folded instead, giving in to the familiar feeling of Draco's body against his.

"Let me be!" he whimpered. "Why are you here? Leave me alone!"

Even he had to admit though, the way he clung to Draco's sticky shirt protested otherwise.

"Harry," came his voice, always so calm, and Harry buckled again as he began to tenderly thread his fingers through his coarse, black hair. "Harry I'm so sorry. That was...utterly contemptible of me. I should never have said such a thing in temper."

"But it's true?" Harry demanded. "It's true, isn't it?"

He felt Draco sigh against his face plastered to his chest. "Yes," he said. "It's distressed me for years that no one would say anything to you, not even Mrs Figg." He cleared his throat and stroked Harry's hair again. "I fear they felt they were doing you a kindness, whereas my opinion has long been the opposite."

"Draco," he keened, his body shuddering in grief. "It can't be, it just can't. It's all I ever wanted!"

"I know," Draco said, rocking them back and forth. "I know Harry, I'm sorry."

Harry let himself be held a while, his thoughts whizzing at a thousand miles an hour. "I don't want to fight with you anymore," he uttered after a time. "I don't even know if we've been fighting. I just know it's been abhorrent and I want it to stop."

"I've missed you," Draco admitted, and they clung tighter together. "I thought giving you space would help, I thought you wouldn't want to be around me. But I'm a coward and I couldn't do it, I needed to be near you Harry, I'm so sorry, I tried to do what was best and I think I made things worse."

Harry surprised himself by laughing. "I think," he rasped. "Perhaps we both made it worse."

Draco laughed too. It was a wet, remorseful sound. "What a pair of pillocks," he said, and Harry laughed again, half in grief, half at his own stupidity.

"Can you ever forgive me?" he whispered.

Draco leaned back so they could look at one another. "There's nothing to forgive," he said, silver eyes shining with his own unshed tears. "Aside from perhaps some beastly things we said just now, but they can be forgotten, can't they?"

Harry nodded and buried his face against his neck again. "I don't care that you're rich," he said, his skin burning with shame. "You've always been so generous to me, you and your family. I..." He hiccupped, but refused to let himself back out now. "I only said it because I know it worries you. I wanted to hurt you. Because you'd been hurting me." He was crying again, but these were silent tears now, falling steadily down his cheeks, dripping from his chin and soaking into Draco's shirt already damp with sweat. "I'm ghastly."

"You're human," Draco said, and Harry felt maybe the tears had now teetered from his eyes too. "I should have found a kind moment to tell you the truth about the R.A.F., not used it as a weapon."

Harry nodded. "It's okay," he said. "Well," he laughed reproachfully. "It's not really, because I can't be a pilot." And that cut him through again, saying it out loud. But he sat up properly so Draco could see he wasn't cross with him. They were close enough that Harry could make out almost all his features, despite not wearing his glasses, and for the first time in as many months, he and Draco looked at one another with affection. "All I care about is being friends again."