A/N: A revamp of one of the very first Drarry fics I ever wrote. I was probably 13, 14 then? So it was really quite immature sounding (insert nervous laugh). I took it off the web a few years ago because the way I wrote it made me cringe. It came into my mind recently again though and I decided it was worth a shot at rework. Thanks for reading, as always!
Harry looked at the huge castle in front of him. He could see at his left Hagrid ushering the first years onto the boat and he heard the Thestrals breathe heavily behind him. Ron and Hermione stood beside him with their bags.
He felt Ginny sneak her hand into his.
He even saw a flash of blonde hair through the crowds of senior students.
And this was how everything should be, right? Defeating the Dark Lord at 17 and returning himself and everyone else, including his former arch-nemesis, to school the following year. He was going to complete his education, get a (hopefully boring) job at the Ministry, marry Ginny, start a family and die a peaceful certain death in the distant future.
He smiled.
It was good to have life so predictable.
Life seemed to have turned the other way for Malfoy though, Harry observed as they entered the Great Hall. He was still as arrogant as ever, but Harry could tell that he was more edgy than he wanted to appear. Malfoy sat at the corner of the Slytherin table, one foot out of the table's leg as if ready to run at any moment. His old cronies, Zabini and Parkinson, had chosen not to return to Hogwarts. The other Slytherins, especially the young ones, shot him dirty looks every now and then. They sat a vast distance away from him, such that he was a clear lone figure on an entire stretch of table.
Beside him, Harry heard Ron and Ginny guffaw at Malfoy's predicament. Hermione gave Ron a reprimanding look but said nothing to shut him up. Harry felt his heart plummet a little as he realised that Malfoy looked lonely.
Throughout the Sorting Ceremony, he stared at the blond who had his head down the whole time. Harry ventured a guess that he was trying to compose himself. Social rejection was definitely not a Malfoy thing. When the food appeared, Malfoy scooped as much food as quickly as he could and ate it as fast as his grace would allow. He was finished by the time Harry was done transferring his own portion of meal to his plate. Harry's eyes never left him as he watched Malfoy prissily neaten his robes before stalking out of the hall. He wasn't sure if that later loud sniff from outside came from the blonde.
Ginny leaning against his shoulder lovingly shook him back to reality. There was a lot of blabber around him, and he knew not all of it was friendly talk. He could see the Slytherins sneering amongst each other and tossing their hair the way Malfoy used to. He heard Ginny and Ron laugh beside him again.
Harry's heart clenched unpleasantly and his brain did a nervous whir at his heart's decision: to protect or even befriend Draco Malfoy. Bad idea if you want a normal year, his brain advised.
But if the wizarding world was unable to look past former grudges and an enemy who didn't really want to be an enemy, what good was winning that war? He politely excused himself early from the table and headed back to the dorms early.
He saw Ginny's crestfallen expression but he tried not to let that waiver him.
He did not catch the curious gaze of one of his other housemates, though.
Harry continued keeping a close eye on Malfoy as they had many classes together. Since most of the 7th year Slytherins had chosen to continue their education elsewhere, the classes were dominated by the other three houses. Malfoy was a perpetual solitary figure, always sitting at the front desk by himself. He was the first to enter and leave, but made an effort to be one of the most active participants in class. Unfortunately that won him little favour from the professors who took more favourably to Hermione (despite her incessant jumping-out-of-her-seat-to-answer act for the whole duration of class). At the back of his mind he wondered how Malfoy coped with this treatment, given that his father could no longer hear about that (for at least five years). Perhaps Narcissa's constant gifting of sweets at breakfast was his only source of encouragement.
Still, that was pitiful.
He watched Malfoy enter the library instead of heading down for lunch and made another mental note of his schedule. Harry caught himself hoping slightly wistfully over lunch that Malfoy at least still played Quidditch. He was a good opponent on the field.
As if reading his mind, Ron suddenly asked, "D'you think that ferret's still gonna be on the team this year?"
Harry almost dropped his sandwich in surprise at the question and his mouth dropped open. A portion of ham probably fell out onto the ground. He shut it immediately at Hermione's raised eyebrow.
"Don't be silly, Ron. His own house doesn't even want him at their dinner table," Ginny rolled her eyes and leaned against Harry, running a hand up his arm. Harry breathed nervously, hating the thought of anyone who wasn't entirely guilty having to suffer non-acceptance after the war. Not understanding, Ginny grinned as if she were the source of his embarrassment. Hermione continued staring at him rather thoughtfully.
"Y-yeah, probably not," he ducked his head in discomfort and continued nibbling at his sandwich. As he finished his last bite, he decided that he would check out the Slytherin seeker tryouts tomorrow.
The air was frigid the following morning when Harry trudged to the stands. It had been nearly impossible to shrug Ginny off from his body after breakfast. When he finally managed to, he simply muttered something to his friends about needing fresh air and sprinted out of the castle. Now he was here back on the stands of the Quidditch field, he felt at ease. He smiled broadly and leant back, closing his eyes for a while. That was, until a nasal voice broke the silence.
"Smiling at the clouds today are we, Potter? Better zip up that pathetic jacket of yours before you catch a nasty cold."
Harry jerked ungraciously forward, unconsciously hugging his jacket tightly around his body as he opened his eyes to see Malfoy already strolling away toward the field, latest broom in hand.
"Malfoy!" he gasped out before he could stop himself.
He didn't expect Malfoy to turn around, but he did. It was a slow cautious gaze back, as if Malfoy were expecting a hex to his face. The blond boy stood unmoving, questioning Harry with his silence.
"I- er- all the best for the tryouts later," Harry finished lamely. He gritted his teeth and thought about how he could be back in the warm tower drinking hot chocolate with friends and Ginny curled around his arm.
Stupid hero instinct.
Malfoy cocked his head and it looked as if he was trying his best not to curl his lip in a derisive sneer. He smoothly replied as he straightened his back, "Thank you Potter, but I won't be trying out for the team. Surely you already know how the others consider me."
Harry blinked in surprise and he heard Malfoy comment dryly, "Everything surprises you nowadays, doesn't it, Potter?"
"Um no, I've observed that," Harry licked his lips out of nervousness, "Then, er, what are you doing here with a broom in your hand?"
Harry wasn't sure if that was a beam on Malfoy's face.
"Well I'm here to fly for a while, of course."
And with that, Malfoy turned away and took to the skies with his broom. He twisted elegantly in the wind and accelerated and went higher and higher till he was just a bright glowing spot in the early morning sky. He swiveled around like a hawk and pulled off stunts of such skill that made it look like he had never missed a day of practice.
Harry wanted to stay and watch, but he figured that he had embarrassed himself and didn't need to further humiliate himself by sitting here like some shameless fanboy. He zipped up his jacket and strode swiftly back to the castle. He thought he heard a snigger back at the stands. He didn't turn back in case it was Malfoy or a Slytherin who overheard their exchange.
"I'm headed to the library today," Harry said to his friends after Defence Against the Dark Arts, "Falling behind on work and all that, don't need to save me lunch."
"Don't be such a Hermione, Harry," Ron snickered as Hermione hit his arm in fake indignation, "We'll do that essay after dinner, now c'mon! Don't you want to see Ginny? Think she's already down at the lake waiting for her boyfriend."
Harry felt a jolt of guilt at that last statement. He and Ginny weren't officially dating yet, but he probably was leading her on by not rejecting her physical contact. He had figured a few days ago that he probably still was interested in her somewhat, but he wasn't ready at the moment for the amount of commitment she seemed to demand.
"Ron, you know we're not dating yet," Harry flatly stated, "I'll do the essay and we can have a good time bumming around tonight, okay? I just want it out of my head."
His friend sighed in disappointment and was about to argue back when Hermione shook her head. Ron fell silent like a tamed animal. Despite himself, Harry grinned at Hermione and gave her a thumbs-up as Ron scowled.
"It's good to see that you're putting in the effort to get good grades, Harry," Hermione offered a smile, "We'll catch you at Potions later then."
Harry nodded and had to control himself from running toward the library. He was just curious about where Malfoy went and what he did in his spare time, nothing harmful. He only wanted to make sure Malfoy was having a bearable time while he was awake.
Walking silently and slowly down the aisles, he scanned the tables for a sign of pale blond hair. And there it was, at the very end of the library, alone and by the brightest window. Malfoy was bent over his parchment with at least five books next to him. He was scribbling furiously with his quill, his pointed features scrunched up in concentration and a hand against his forehead.
Harry kept very still, hoping that he was sufficiently shrouded by the shadows of the towering bookshelves. He didn't know how long he stood there, but it was long enough to see Malfoy finish his essay and take a nap with his head atop the books. He saw a bunch of young Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs point and giggle at the dozing Malfoy. He was slightly enraged by the immature display but he knew better than to confront them.
Then the bell sounded and Malfoy stirred from his slumber. Harry suddenly realised how hungry he was and the explaining he'd had to do tonight to Hermione about his unwritten essay. He groaned to himself and sneaked away before Malfoy rubbed away the sleep from his eyes.
"Ginny was so disappointed that you didn't turn up, mate, I thought she was going to cry or something," Ron had commented sternly as Harry joined them to enter Potions class.
And now Harry wondered if the whole of Hogwarts (or the class at least) was disappointed with his choice of Potions partner today.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Malfoy gave him a sweeping gaze. He thought Malfoy was going to acknowledge his presence next to him by blasting him with a snarky remark, but the boy simply turned his head toward the professor's desk. The curious murmuring and tittering coming from the back of the class ever since he had sat down next to Malfoy was growing louder. His temper flared and he whipped his head around, daring his classmates to question him directly. Most of them fell silent quickly and stared at him with wide eyes. Ron had confusion splashed all over his face. Hermione did too, but she abruptly hid it when Harry looked at her. She signaled at him to calm down and face the professor. He gladly did so.
"I don't need your help, Potter," Malfoy whispered, a faint blush tinged across his face. He chopped the Mandrake roots with slightly more viciousness than Harry thought they required.
"It's nice to have company once in a while though, isn't it?" Harry indignantly queried as he took the cut roots and ground them with the pestle. Malfoy stiffened at that question and made a strangled sound that was caught between a sniff and a snort.
Despite the awkward silence that ensued, the preparation and brewing of the potion between them was excellent. Harry was silently happy that Malfoy wasn't throwing a fuss about him. By the end of the class, they were the pair with the clearest purple potion. Slughorn proudly swirled it around in its flask, holding it up into the light as he commended it loudly in front of the class. Harry could imagine the look of dismay on Hermione's face and he snickered to himself.
Sure enough, she strode up anxiously to the front when class ended.
"How did you get that shade of purple? All Ron and I got was a muddy blue!"
Harry, who didn't know a thing, just shrugged and looked down at his feet, scratching his arm.
"You probably just added a milligram too much bat wing," Malfoy responded, probably with as much courtesy as he could muster. Not expecting him to reply her, Hermione gaped at him before recomposing herself. She then looked at Harry like a trapped deer, as if asking him what to say in return. Harry just frowned and gave her a "where's your manners" look. Hermione nodded and swiftly said, "Thank you for your input, Mal-Draco."
Malfoy seemed to snap at that. He snarled at the pair of them as he chucked his books into his bag. He swung it ferociously around his shoulder, almost slapping Harry across the face with it, and quickly headed out of the classroom. Hermione stood there in stunned silence and Harry distantly heard Ron said something along the lines of "fucking ferret". He wasn't sure because he found himself chasing desperately after a fuming Malfoy down the now empty corridor.
"Malfoy, wait up!"
"What? What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy snapped, whirling around angrily, "I don't need your pity! I don't want it! Go find your red-headed weasel of a girlfriend or something, just leave me the hell alone, scarface! "
Harry took the chance to run up toward him.
"Look Malfoy, I just thought that the others weren't giving you a fair chance…" he said, out of breath and falling all over his words.
"And so you thought it would be okay for you to impose your friendliness and friends upon me?" Malfoy hissed, drawing himself up to his proud stance though he was still shorter than Harry.
"No, you git, I just wanted to make sure you're okay, because-"
"And how do you do that? By stalking me and watching me sleep in the library? By observing me fly every other morning? By sitting in front of a class with me because your hero complex can't just go away?"
Harry, shocked at having been found out, was going to ask how Malfoy knew all that. But he never had the chance to as he was shot forcefully down the hallway by a spell Malfoy cast.
"I don't want your pity, Potter!" Malfoy snarled again.
Harry dipped his head and was about to throw his hands up in acceptance and defeat when he saw a bright light flash from behind him. It threw Malfoy down against the ground with a sickening thud and he heard Malfoy cry out in pain. He turned dizzily around with his wand drawn; looking for the attacker but there was no one in sight.
When he turned back around, Malfoy was glaring at him with the force of a thousand burning suns. But…but his hair was long now and he was clad in a girl's uniform, and his features were more feminine and, and...(Harry's gaze dropped)…and he had breasts.
The spell shot by the attacker had turned Malfoy into a girl.
Harry stuttered and stammered and backed away, tripping over his robes with his wand still shaking in his clammy hand, knowing how it looked like to Malfoy; Malfoy, who was a girl but looked more like a venomous pale snake at the moment.
"What the fuck did you do to me, Potter?"
