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Harry only had one number memorised. It’s the only one that ever stuck. Ron kept changing his whenever he lost his Muggle phone and had to buy a new one. Hermione rarely answered hers since she was constantly busy, especially since she got that new job of hers. He never bothered to learn Dudley’s since they weren’t exactly pals, and everyone else was … well, not reachable by any earthly phone.
His fingers trembled as he dialled the numbers, partially from the cold. To Harry, it was just a relief to hear the click of the phone being picked up, to have someone else here with him, even if they weren’t actually here.
“Hello?” the voice on the other end mumbled, clearly awakened by the phone ringing.
“Hi,” he breathed into the phone. The snow had started to fall again, filling the air with a certain dry crispness specific to this sort of weather. The air hung still up here, like there was no one else in the world – except Harry, and now, Draco.
“Oh, Potter,” he replied, somehow recognising Harry, despite him being barely audible. “Why are you calling me at this ungodly hour?”
“I … It’s just been a while, Draco,” Harry smiled a little to himself, amused by the situation. He let his head fall back, tired of looking at the snow around him turn into an icy red slush. It was just a reminder of this shitty, shitty situation he found himself in.
“It has,” Draco grumbled, still groggy with sleep. “You doing okay?”
“Just cold,” came the answer. “It’s snowing here.”
“Well, maybe put the heating on, then you won’t be cold,” Draco deadpans. He’s never been very good at the whole sympathy thing, even with his closest friends. Harry was probably the only person who got to hear his slightly softer side, and even then, it was minimal. Not that Harry would ever have told him that his bedside manner was atrocious, though.
“You did always know the right thing to say,” Harry chuckled a little. The cold made it hard to feel the wound in his stomach, even as the blood spilling out warmed the ground around him. He’d stopped even trying to apply pressure to it, knowing there was no chance help was going to reach him in time – not that anyone knew he was even out here in the mountains.
“Mm, I suppose,” Draco replied, distracted by something on his end. After a small pause, he asked, “Did you want something from me, by the way? Why did you call, Potter?”
“Can you just stay on the line with me?” Harry said, “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Okay.”
It was quiet for a moment; the two boys just listened to the other breathe on the other end of the phone. Snow started to gather on Harry’s eyelashes, making them almost impossible to lift. He slowly let his eyelids close, too tired to keep fighting the growing weight on them.
“Did I tell you how much you meant to me?” Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You didn’t need to.”
The unspoken words between them hung heavy, neither of them willing to actually say the words that had been on the cusp of spilling out for years now.
“Just double checking,” Harry cut himself off, swallowing back the words. “Do you think we would’ve been … something more, maybe in another life?”
“Maybe,” he replied with a sigh. “Maybe in another life, we’re just two Muggles, doing taxes and running a laundrette together.”
Harry laughed, more blood oozing out with every shake of his chest, “Maybe, yeah.”
A singular tear started rolling down his cheek before freezing in place. He shivered, the jerky motion doing nothing against the cold creeping in. “I’m so cold.”
“I know, just try and get some sleep,” Draco murmured, somewhat comfortingly, “You’ll be plenty warm in the morning.”
Harry glanced up, watching more of the snow tumble through the sky, covering the scene with more and more powdery snow. It was starting to bury him slightly before he was even dead. It was ironic, for the Boy Who Lived, to be buried before he actually took his last breath.
He reasoned with himself that this was just Mother Nature giving him the privacy he was owed in life, but only got in death.
“You falling asleep?” Draco asked, yawning a little himself.
“Mm…” Harry only had the energy left to muster up small answers, the tiredness finally starting to drag his consciousness under.
“I hope you sleep well, Harry,” Draco whispered softly on the phone, “Goodness knows, you need it.”
Harry, too far gone to hear much at all, did not hear the click of Draco hanging up. Draco didn’t hear Harry take his last, ragged breath – although for months after the call, he would have nightmares about exactly that.
But, for now, Harry’s mind was finally quiet as he slipped into eternal sleep, happy in the knowledge that he didn’t die alone.