This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

This drabble was to raise awareness of the Help_Haiti fundraising auction on LiveJournal. The auction is now closed, but keep checking that community for future opportunities, since the mods say there will likely be another auction later this winter.


Harry blinked in surprise as he exited the Floo, stumbling over one of dozens of cardboard boxes lined up in front of the hearth. He even stepped back into the Floo for a moment, wondering if he'd somehow taken a wrong turn and ended up somewhere other than Grimmauld Place.

"Is that you, Harry? Get over here and give me a hand with this. It's heavy," he heard Draco call out. He couldn't see the blond over the sea of boxes, but it sounded like he was somewhere near the entryway.

"Draco? What on earth is all this?" he asked as he gingerly picked his way toward the last place he'd heard Draco's voice.

"Water, Harry. And food. I've been packing it up all morning. Haven't you seen the news?"

Harry frowned, swallowing back a curse as he tripped and nearly knocked over a precarious stack of boxes. He was used to Draco's odd flights of fancy – like the time he'd come home to find the entire house had been redecorated to maximize something called "chi", or the time Kreacher had come to him nearly in tears because Draco had declared they were following the Raw Food movement and would no longer eat anything cooked. Still, he had absolutely no idea what could have prompted this.

He would have called out again just to be able to pinpoint where the other man was in all the mess, but a shock of white blond hair bobbed into view before he could open his mouth. He peered around another teetering tower of boxes, his eyes widening when he saw Draco in a pair of denims and a T-shirt, hair mussed and face slightly sweaty, with a Muggle marker tucked behind his ear. He'd apparently been using it to label boxes, and both his hands and face bore stray black marks from where he'd forgotten to replace its cap between uses.

"Haiti?" Harry asked, reading the address label on the nearest box.

"Haven't you heard? There was a devastating earthquake a few days ago," Draco said, looking up from his task of taping a box shut.

Harry nodded.

"The latest estimates say as many as 50,000 Muggles died, and every day thousands more could die because they don't have clean water, food or shelter."

Draco uncapped his marker with his teeth, concentrating as he used it to label the box, which was apparently full of bottles of water.

"Some organization called the Red Cross says up to 3 million people need help," he said, snapping the cap back on the pen and putting it back behind his ear. "I read about it in the Muggle newspaper Hermione left here yesterday."

Harry stepped around the box, wrapping his arms around Draco. He'd wondered how he'd heard about it; Draco was usually staunchly against reading the Muggle news. He said the wizarding world had enough problems of its own without reading about the problems in the Muggle world, but apparently his mind had been changed by the horrific news out of Haiti.

"That's true, love, but you can't just send boxes of food and water to Haiti," he said gently, taking the sting out of his words by pressing a light kiss to the back of Draco's neck. "It's a wonderful idea, but the supplies would never get there."

Draco's shoulders slumped a bit, and he leaned back into Harry's comforting embrace.

"What can we do, then? There has to be something that can be done."

Harry dropped his arms, calling for Kreacher. The elf appeared seconds later, warily eying Draco as he stood in front of them awaiting his instructions.

"Kreacher, can you take all of this to the local Red Cross office? They need donations like these for domestic disaster relief efforts. Draco and I are heading out to Gringotts."

Kreacher nodded, disappearing – with all of the boxes – with a soft pop.

"Donations like those will help local efforts, like when there are fires or floods," Harry said, casting a quick Cleaning Charm over Draco to banish the dust and pen marks. "But in times like these, what's really needed are monetary donations to help the relief organizations fund their operations. Let's go to Gringotts and see about a bank draft, shall we?"


Isn't it cute that Draco wants to help? You can, too! Go bid on a fic at http://community [dot] livejournal [dot]com/ help_haiti / 3155 [dot] html when bidding opens up again later this year.