Harry’s face was inches from his own, eyes wide and easily visible in the dim light. “Shh! Be quiet, or you’ll scare them away!” he exclaimed breathlessly.
Draco shook his face free of Harry’s grasp and rubbed at his aching temples, but for the sake of argument, kept his voice down. “What the hell are you talking about? Scare who away?”
Harry merely grinned back at him broadly and inclined his head towards the field. He was obviously excited about something.
Rolling his eyes, Draco figured it would be easier to merely humour Harry’s strange behaviour if he ever wanted to get some sleep. With a melodramatic sigh, he turned towards the open field –
– and his breath caught in his throat.
All over the field, small lights, each no larger than his hand, were floating just above the tops of the grasses. They moved in no particular pattern, yet they all seemed to be dancing in time to unheard music. The field itself seemed to glow with magic; a pearly blue iridescence that left the moon and stars pale in comparison.
Draco sat frozen at the sight, hardly noticing that his throat was still quite choked up. Were it not for the remnants of his headache, he would have been irreversibly convinced that he was dreaming. It was beautiful. It was otherworldly. It was…
"It’s what your nurse told you about, isn’t it?" Harry asked softly next to him. "The fairies. Fairy rings. They’re real."