Warnings:EWE. Harry and Draco are still wizards and retain all their powers, but magic is not used during the events in this story. Contains: sex, mostly not very graphic. Insects, ditto. Snide comment which does not reflect author’s real views on Snarry stories. Mention of previous feline violence against lizards.
Summary:A few years after the war, Harry needs distance from the British wizarding world and volunteers abroad as a teacher in a poor rural school. Draco is a low-budget traveler, wandering wherever his curiosity leads him. Their paths cross in Malawi, “the warm heart of Africa.”
Why I loved it:What a fantastic story and it had a perfect and yet steamy location. Africa is a wonderful setting for a story. This fic had a gentle, quiet feel to it and it filled me with warm and fuzzy feelings. She painted with her words, a vivid country that was full of color,sound and lots of life .
I fell in love with her Draco, he was grown up and had matured so well. He also had an interesting facination with the letter Z. I could easily see Harry falling for him, he was more grown up and trusting that people could change. They were both lonely and needed each other to feel happy and content with life. The sex scenes felt very personal and lovely, she has a skill with dialogue.
Africa was a perfect setting, it felt like I was there with them under the hot sun. I could feel her love of Malawi, it felt vivid and real to me with the food and bus ride.
Excerpt(optional):A snorkeler was coming back in to shore, with slow kicks of lean pale legs. Likely to burn badly in the African sun with that complexion, Harry thought idly. Haven't seen anyone that pale since... The man, young, was standing now, splashing up the last few steps onto the beach. He pulled the mask off an angular face, shaking lake water from the lightest of blond hair, more glistening drops running slantwise on a chest faintly slashed by a long jagged scar. Harry's jaw dropped as his worlds collided.
The man stopped abruptly and shocked grey eyes snapped up to Harry's own. He looked at Harry blankly for a moment, saying nothing. It couldn't be Malfoy. It had to be Malfoy.
"What are you doing here?" Harry continued, still a bit dazed. Malawi was poor, obscure, placid and friendly -- nothing to interest a Malfoy. Unless... "How did you find me?" he added suspiciously.
"Extraordinarily bad luck?" the man said, half under his breath, then squared his shoulders. "Honestly, Potter, why would I go traipsing around the middle of Africa to look for you?"
"It is you."
"Of course it's me. What are you doing here?"
Harry wondered that himself sometimes.