Author's note: This is my first fanfiction, so please point out any errors to me, so I can improve myself.
I really hope you're gonna enjoy this story :)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fic, and neither do I own the rights to the story.
Chapter One: Realisation
Draco Malfoy was sitting in the Slytherin bleachers between Pansy Parkinson and Vincent Crabbe, growing increasingly nervous as the third task of the Triwizard Tournament went on for what felt like countless hours to him. He couldn't even explain it to himself, didn't know why he was so anxious, and all he could do was hide it from Pansy and Crabbe. Then, suddenly, two shapes appeared, just at the edge of the maze, and everyone erupted into cheers. Draco joined in, seeing as his so-called friends had started cheering too, though he was using all his willpower to keep himself from running down to see whether it was the person he had, inexplicably, been worried about. It only took seconds for him to hear someone shout something about Harry Potter, and he almost laughed in relief, but a few seconds later he noticed that something was wrong. Why was Harry shaking and clutching another body? Why was Professor Dumbledore hurrying down to him, followed by Cornelius Fudge? Draco watched Dumbledore grip Harry's – no, Potter's shoulders and turn him around, saw him talk to Harry, and realised that the other body wasn't moving at all. That's when he heard someone scream - "He's dead! He's dead!" Then he heard another name: Diggory. Cedric Diggory was dead. Draco then couldn't help it, he had to get closer, had to see if H- if Potter was alright. 'Why, for Merlin's sake, do I care so much about that damn Scarhead?,' he thought, confused by his worry for his nemesis. Meanwhile, Harry was already being escorted away by Professor Moody, which somehow bothered Draco, although he didn't know why. Professor Dumbledore appeared to have lost sight of Harry in the crowd, and Draco pushed through to him, desperately trying to reach Dumbledore as fast as he could, and not bothering to look like he didn't care anymore.
When he finally reached Dumbledore, he was already breathing hard. "Professor!", he yelled in order to be heard over the deafening noise around them, "Professor Dumbledore, Har- Potter is with Professor Moody, if you are looking for him!" Dumbledore looked at him for a second, astonished and worried, and headed off in the direction Moody had escorted Harry.
'That's it!,' Draco suddenly realised, 'Moody wasn't escorting him out, he was dragging Harry after him!' In a split second, Draco decided to run after Professor Dumbledore, who apparently had told Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to come with him, as he could make them out in the distance. He did his best to reduce the distance between them, ignoring the lessons his father had taught him so many times. Malfoys do not run, it's undignified, he had yelled at Draco more than once a week when he had been younger. However, even though Draco ran as fast as he could, he lost the Professors in the castle. "Damn it!", he cursed and almost punched the wall next to him. "Where could they have gone, where could they – I'm so dumb!" he exclaimed, hitting himself in the face and starting to run again, but this time, he had a clear destination: Professor Moody's office. When he arrived, the door was shattered, most of it lying in the room, and the Professors were standing in front of Harry and an unconscious Professor Moody. He heard Dumbledore ask Snape to bring him some Veritaserum and bolted away from the shattered door. When Professor Snape saw him, Draco pleadingly gestured for him to not say anything to him while within earshot of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Harry. To Draco's surprise, Snape simply nodded and gestured for him to come along. They continued in silence, and as soon as they had rounded the first corner, Draco asked "Is he alright? What – what happened there?" Professor Snape curled his lip. "I was not aware that you and Potter were friends. In fact, it always seemed to me as if you were 'mortal enemies' , so I'm sure you will forgive me for saying that even if I had any information on today's events, I would not be sharing them with you, Mr. Malfoy. Now, if that's all, I believe that your fellow Slytherins are most likely looking for you already, so I suggest you leave me to my work and go back to Miss Parkinson and Mr Zabini." "Actually I – I don't-" Draco started before taking a second to calm his nerves. It wasn't like him at all to just stammer incoherent things. "Professor, believe it or not, I actually care about Ha – Potter being fine. I didn't even know myself, but when it took so long for him to leave the maze, and when he finally did appear, well, I realized that yes, I do care about my 'mortal enemy' as you put it, and I don't wish him ill. So please, just tell me, do you think he's alright, considering … well, considering whatever happened in that bloody maze?" Professor Snape looked at him in absolute disbelieve, but then the look in his eyes changed and he said – "Very well, if you want to know it, Potter is not at his best, but as far as we could tell, his injuries are not life-threatening. However, until we know what happened in the maze, I can say nothing about his mental state." They had reached his office and Snape opened a shelf to take out a small vial. As they rushed back to Moody's office, Draco said – "Please keep this from Potter and the others. That I asked about Potter, I mean."
Snape looked at him and gave him a small nod, understanding that Draco didn't want anyone to know because that would ruin his entire reputation, not to mention what would happen if his father found out. Draco waited hidden outside Professor Moody's office and heard most of the things that were said. When Harry and the impostor Moody told them that Voldemort had returned, Draco slapped his hands over his mouth and began to tremble. Now that the Dark Lord had returned, his father would certainly watch over Draco much more closely, not wanting him to give his master a reason to strip Lucius of his privileges, or worse. He turned around and returned to the Quidditch pitch, where Pansy and Blaise were already looking for him while Crabbe and Goyle just stood around, grinning about the chaos and panic around them.
"Draco! Where in the name of Slytherin have you been? We've been looking all over for you!" Pansy exclaimed once she saw him making his way through the crowd towards her. "I wasn't feeling well, so I went around a little. Not that it's any of your business," Draco responded with a little ice in his voice. Pansy rolled her eyes. "C'mon Dray, don't be so cold all the time, it doesn't suit you well. Besides, Blaise and I were worried about you. Unlike those two trolls that you call friends. Why do you keep them around, anyway?" she wanted to know. Draco sighed. He had already asked himself that question countless times, but instead of giving in to Pansy, he continued to keep Crabbe and Goyle around, just because he was too proud to admit that 'befriending' the two of them had been a huge mistake. While Draco, for the biggest part, just pretended to hate muggle-borns, Crabbe and Goyle would like nothing more than to bring them harm. Draco didn't have even the slightest bit of doubt that they'd grow up to follow the paths of their fathers, who, as he knew from his father, were death eaters to the core. On top of that, Crabbe and Goyle were desperately dependent on Draco to help them with just about everything about school and without Draco's help, they probably wouldn't even have managed to pass the first year exams.
"I already told you not to call me Dray, especially not in front of others!" Draco said coolly. "Anyway, shouldn't we be heading to the castle with the others? Most of our house already left and I don't want to damage my reputation." Blaise, who had walked over to them as soon as he had seen them, snorted. "Yeah, right. As if just disappearing wouldn't do any harm to your reputation. Honestly though, I bet you could do anything and your reputation would never take a serious hit. You're the Slytherin Prince, after all," he said. Draco scoffed – "I didn't ask those stupid first-years to start calling me that and I would appreciate it if you stopped calling me the Slytherin Prince, understood? And now we should get to the castle, I'm tired of this."
Pansy and Blaise rolled their eyes once again but didn't dare disagree, so they went up to the castle and headed straight for the Slytherin common room. Draco went to bed, leaving Pansy and Blaise and most of the other Slytherins in the common room. He did, however, lie awake for quite some time, wondering why the hell he suddenly worried about Potter's health, since Potter had never been exactly friendly towards him, except for the first few minutes when they had talked at Madam Malkin's, but that was mostly Draco's own fault because after all, he had called Hagrid, the apparently first person who'd ever been nice to Harry, a stupid oaf and other things and had just been the arrogant prick he'd been raised to be. Soon enough his thoughts drifted to a much darker place, to everything he had overheard during the impostor Moody's interrogation and Harry's own retelling of the events, and Draco couldn't help feeling a little afraid. He didn't actually hate muggleborns and dreaded what was likely going to happen during the summer holidays. Would he be forced to harm or even kill someone? What if his father found out about Draco's secret fascination with muggle's books and music? Finally, he succumbed to sleep and dreamed incoherent things about a dragon that turned into a gold statue and somehow still managed to whistle the Hogwarts hymn.
The next day, Draco was awake early but found himself unable to go back to sleep, so he showered and got dressed. When he entered the common room, he found Pansy sitting there, crying silently. He approached her carefully and sat down beside her, startling her. "What's wrong?" he asked gently. She looked at him uncertainly for a few seconds, then handed him a letter from her father in which he told her the 'good news' about the Dark Lord's return. "I just- I- what if he…" "finds out that you don't really agree with your parents' 'philosophy'?" Pansy looked at him in surprise and nodded. "Yeah, something like that. I'm so afraid that he will find out. He's the only family I have!" "Calm down, he won't find out if you don't let him. And if he does, and kicks you out or worse, you can defend yourself. Besides, if he can't accept that you don't want to follow in his footsteps and become a death eater, I'd say it's his loss, not yours," Draco said reassuringly. "And he may be your only family, but he's not the only person who cares about you, and who you care about. I mean, we're friends, right?" "Y- Yeah, I guess you're right, Dray. Thanks." Pansy wiped her eyes and looked at him. "Do you know you're much easier to like when you don't speak like you're the only one at the top of society? It makes you seem much more… human, I think." Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But I can't risk having my father find out about me not being like him." Pansy nodded in understanding. They stayed there and kept talking until the other Slytherins started to wake up. Pansy told Draco that her mother had died 'under mysterious circumstances' after challenging her father on his opinion about muggles and muggleborns and in exchange, Draco told her how his father beat him up five years ago because he had looked like a muggle. He had broken Dracos left arm and several ribs.
They had to stop when Crabbe and Goyle entered the common room. 'Don't they ever split up? Are they doing everything together?' Draco wondered not for the first time. When Blaise also joined them they went to the great hall for breakfast. The other houses and the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were already there, except for Potter who, Draco guessed, was still in the hospital wing. When all students had sat down, Dumbledore stood up and addressed them, telling them to not bother Harry with questions or badger him to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Draco mentally nodded along. After all he'd heard it was best to not put any pressure on Potter, no matter how strong 'the boy who lived' was. They had no lessons that day, so Draco spent the day walking around with Pansy and Blaise, trying to eavesdrop on Granger and Weasley to find out how Harry was, but without success. He still didn't know anything about his condition when they returned to the great hall for dinner, and hardly ate anything. That night, he was plagued by nightmares in which he found Harry's dead body or saw him getting killed by flashes of green light. When he woke up the next morning, he was drenched in sweat and tears were streaming down his face. He wiped the tears away furiously and started punching his pillow. By the time Draco had calmed down again, the pillow was torn apart and feathers were everywhere. Draco picked up his wand from his nightstand and murmured "Reparo". He watched as the feathers flew back into the pillow and it mended itself, then he showered and got dressed.
When he entered the great hall, he noticed that Potter was sitting at the Gryffindor table again, between Weasley and Granger (though he appeared to ignore them), and his mood brightened instantly. Draco looked him over for a second. Sure, Potter had some scratches, but otherwise he seemed to be fine, although he appeared lost in his thoughts which Draco figured were quite dark. He then decided to stop bullying Potter and his friends, and maybe even keep Crabbe and Goyle from bullying them, no matter the consequences. Without conscious thought, Draco's eyes had wandered to Harry again and he stared at him, lost in thought, until Harry looked up and their eyes met. Draco was surprised at how dull and colourless the usually sparkling emerald eyes were. He blinked, and suddenly he realized he'd been staring at Harry. He quickly broke the contact and felt his blood rushing to his face. After breakfast, he tried to get to Harry alone between the lessons, but Granger and Weasley didn't leave his side, even though he still ignored them. 'Guess I can't blame them. After all, that's what I'm trying to do, be with him so he doesn't get lost in his thoughts and do something incredibly stupid,' Draco thought. He gave up his attempts and instead focused on his lessons. Defence against the Dark Arts had been cancelled for the rest of the term and so Draco spent his time in the library instead, searching for useful spells like defensive wards or combat spells.
When dinner was over, Draco went straight to bed and fell asleep in a matter of mere seconds, but his sleep was again plagued by nightmares about Harry's death and soon Draco jolted awake, drenched in sweat once again. When Draco had tried and failed to get back to sleep, he got up, showered after casting a silencing spell and got dressed. He left the Slytherin dormitory and common room as quietly as he could and started roaming the school, always listening for Filch. Instead of Filch, however, he heard someone sobbing in an abandoned classroom. Curious, he sneaked into the room, trying his best to not make a noise. When he saw the person, however, he couldn't keep it. "Potter? What're you doing here in the middle of the night?"
He regretted it as soon as the words had left his mouth. Harry looked up. His emerald eyes were glistening with tears, though that didn't keep him from shooting Draco a look that almost made his blood freeze. "Malfoy" Harry said, his voice colder and more poisonous than even Draco's when he was angry, "leave me the hell alone, before you regret it." He drew his wand, but Draco forced himself to stay calm and put his hands up. "Look, Potter, this may surprise you, but I don't want to insult you. That would be somewhat below my standards, after all you've gone through, Potter. I didn't even know it was you when I heard the sobbing, and I thought, well, it wouldn't harm my reputation to not bully someone but be nice since it's the middle of night, and I could always deny it if the person talked about it. By the way, why are you ignoring Weasley and Granger? It might help to talk to someb-" Draco said, but Harry interrupted him by punching him in the face. "Shut up and leave me the hell alone, Malfoy!" He growled, his wand still pointing at Draco.
"What the heck is wrong with you, Potter?" Draco shouted in pain. "What's wrong with me? Are you bloody kidding me, Malfoy? My teacher was an imposter, the guy who murdered my parents is back from the dead, I was almost killed again, Cedric is- is dead and you are still making fun of me! That's what's wrong with me, you stupid git! And now leave. Me. ALONE!"
Draco looked at Harry, his eyes showing the hurt for only one split second before it was gone. "Fine, Potter," Draco said with a half-hearted sneer and turned around, forcing himself to not look back. As soon as he was out of Harry's view, he cast a quick healing charm on himself which his mother had taught him and felt the pain fade away.
He went to the slytherin dorms and, after casting some silencing charms around his bed, collapsed onto it, tears running freely for the first time in years.
"And now leave. Me. ALONE!"
Malfoy looked at Harry, and for a split second Harry thought he saw pain in his eyes, but it was gone so fast that Harry was sure he'd imagined it. "Fine, Potter," Malfoy said with a sneer, but something was off, Harry just couldn't point out exactly what it was. The blonde turned around and left Harry to be alone once more. He felt as if there were hundreds of dementors around, taking all the happiness away and leaving only sadness and despair in their wake, except no patronus would be able to drive that feeling away. He cursed and punched the wall, bloodying his knuckles. Why couldn't Malfoy leave him alone, even now? And why would he try to comfort anyone (if he had been telling the truth)?
Just then, Harry heard a 'meow!'
Mrs Norris was standing just outside the classroom and looked at him. She turned around, and Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak. He was not going to let Filch catch him in an empty classroom at 3 in the morning, no matter how bad he felt, so he put the cloak on, pointed his wand on the Marauder's map and murmured: "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He went to the dormitory and went to bed so no one would know that he wandered the castle instead of sleeping.
His sleep was haunted by nightmares which always ended in flashes of green and people falling to the ground, dead. Cedric. His Parents. The Riddles' housekeeper. Cedric. The ministry witch. Cedric. Ron. Cedric. Hermione.
When he woke up later, he was even more tired than before, and his hand was swollen. He got up reluctantly, got dressed, and went to breakfast. Ron and Hermione were there already and had apparently been waiting for him. Harry sighed and took the free seat next to Hermione.
"So, Harry," Ron started hesitantly. Hermione rolled her eyes. "How are you, Harry? You've shut us out since… well, since you came back from the labyrinth. Do you want to talk?" She would have asked more questions, but Harry cut her off. "I'm here to eat, if you don't mind, Hermione," he said and loaded his plate with food.
"What happened to your hand?" Hermione asked as soon as he saw it. "Nothing, it's fine," Harry replied without looking at her. She snorted. "So it's swollen because it just wanted to? Come on, tell me what happened. You know I'll find out anyway, right?" "Fine. I was walking around the castle at night, Malfoy ran into me, I punched him in the face and then punched a wall. Enough for you?" the corners of Ron's mouth twitched but he said nothing.
"Malfoy was walking around the castle at night? Why would he do that, it's not like something he would do, is it? Except for first year, but that was just because of Norbert-" "Norberta," Harry corrected absent-mindedly. "What?" "I overhead Charlie tell Hagrid."
"Oh, well," Hermione said. "I – hey, don't change the subject! I'm just trying to help you, you know? You've not been yourself since- since the first task actually, and we want to get the old Harry back. You're isolating yourself, and once you're over Cedric's death and everything, you're going to regret it. Please, just talk to us. Tell us what happened."
Harry sighed. "Fine, I'll tell you later. In the library. And now could you please let me eat, Hermione?" Not waiting for her to respond, Harry started shovelling food in his mouth and realised he had hardly eaten anything the past few days.
Ron was still eating and Hermione wanted to read about some defensive spells, so Harry took the opportunity to walk down to Hagrid's hut for care of magical creatures alone, not wanting to listen to Ron and Hermione's attempts to cheer him up or calm him down. They always behaved as if they knew everything, but they only knew half of it and didn't realise it! Harry had expected at least Hermione to realise that that there was something he wasn't telling them, but if she didn't notice, how should Ron?
When Harry arrived he found that Hagrid must have pulled quite some strings, or rather, Dumbledore must have done so, because Hagrid had an enormous, apparently enchanted, cage waiting for them, and inside was… a snitch? No, why would Hagrid show them a snitch, that wasn't even a creature. Harry moved closer to the cage and saw a tiny bird, about as big and round as a snitch, shooting around in the cage at an enormous speed, its golden feathers occasionally sparkling in the sunlight. "Beautiful bird, innit, Harry?" said Hagrid from behind him. "Pretty rare 'n under protection. Dumbledore had te pull a few strings te get it here, them bein' an endangered species 'n all, but in the end he managed te persuade 'em ministry wizards. Had to make this special cage, though, or it would just zoom away faster than ye could say 'Norwegian Ridgeback'. They- well, ye will learn soon enough."
Hagrid welcomed the rest of the class and was about to start the lesson when something weird happened. Harry heard someone from the Slytherins, probably Zabini, whisper "That big oaf doesn't look too happy that his bird can't kill anyone, huh? Must be the blood of his mother co- ouch! What-" he noticed he'd shouted and immediately lowered his voice again. "What the hell, Draco?"
"Can't you leave it be for once? A student died and the most feared dark wizard is back and you joke about creatures being unable to kill, like nothing happened. That's why so many people hate our house!" Draco responded in a hushed voice, just loud enough for Harry to hear. Well, that was… curious, but before Harry could think about that any further, he heard Hagrid say: "Yes, Hermione?" As usual, Hermione spoke like she had swallowed a textbook. "That's a golden snidget. It's a very endangered species and there are many reservoirs to ensure their survival. They were used in Quidditch until the 14th century, when they were put under protection, outlawing the hunt. They were also hunted for their golden feathers, which were incredibly valuable." "Ye'r right, ten points for Gryffindor!", Hagrid said cheerfully. He then told them what the snidgets usually eat, how far they can fly, who discovered them and so on, and Harry found himself listening to his enthusiastic explanations, almost as if nothing had happened. He cherished the feeling, although he knew it couldn't last because when has anything good ever lasted for Harry Potter, the boy who lived? Merlin, how he hated that moniker!
During the entire lesson, Malfoy was weirdly… Harry wouldn't call it nice, per se, but Malfoy didn't make any snide comments or laugh at Hagrid, and he even asked one or two questions about the lesson, and without a sarcastic tone. If Harry hadn't been so intent on following Hagrid's lesson and keeping the feeling of normalcy alive, he might even have caught Malfoy staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face.
After the lesson, Harry felt a little better, so he decided to stop avoiding Ron and Hermione and instead surprised them by walking up to them and awkwardly trying to strike up a conversation after ignoring them for the last week(s?). He also finally told them what had happened on the graveyard, because he'd promised it. They were glad that he felt a little better, and thankfully they didn't pester him with questions about how he felt, because he might have snapped at them if they had done that. What he didn't tell them, and hoped his face wasn't giving away, was that Voldemort's return wasn't what made him feel the worst, it was the death of Cedric, and of course seeing his parents again, only to lose them again. He even had hoped, for a short time, that it meant that maybe they could be brought back, but reality had shattered that hope into a thousand pieces (and Dumbledore had, too, although he had only been telling the truth).
Harry didn't keep the effect that Cedric's death had on him to himself because he was still not ready to tell his two best friends. No, he kept that to himself because he was afraid of what it meant. The sting when he'd seen Cedric together with Cho, and the sensation of having his heart ripped out of his chest that he'd felt when Pettigrew killed Cedric were something completely unfamiliar, yet he was almost sure what it meant. And the more he thought about it, the more certainty he gained that he'd felt something weird every single time he'd seen Cedric, since the Quidditch world cup, actually. Merlin, he couldn't have had a crush on Cedric and Cho at the same time, right? He shook his head. He might like Cho, but he didn't feel as much for her as he'd felt for Cedric. 'So it seems my life is a complete mess, great. Damn, fate sure likes to screw my life up.'
How could he live with the Dursleys? Vernon and Dudley would definitely beat him up if they found out about his being… Bi? Or gay? He wasn't sure yet, but that wasn't the point. Vernon was probably the biggest homophobe in the whole world, and Dudley… well, he grew up with it, since even Petunia didn't dare to say anything against Vernon's opinion on that matter. If her opinion was even different at all, that is. 'But Dudley probably won't do anything', Harry thought, chuckling. 'He's way too afraid that I'll hex him to the moon or something.' But his smile was wiped away when he thought about Dudley's friends. Shit, if Dudley found out then he'd definitely tell his friends, and then Harry would have to constantly watch his back, wherever he went.
No, he couldn't let that happen. They must never know about that… and neither must Malfoy, or any other of the Slytherins, or even his Time at Hogwarts would be a living hell. And Rita Skeeter! Merlin, that would be a complete disaster…
"Harry? You alright, mate? You spaced out a bit." Harry shook his head to get rid of his thoughts. "As good as can be, so no, not really. I- I think I need to be alone for a while." Ron nodded. "Okay, but remember to come to potions, Snape doesn't care. And… Well, just remember that 'Mione and I are still there for you.." "Yeah, I know," Harry said. Ron nodded again and thankfully left him alone.
Harry went down to the lake and sat down, leaning his back against a tree. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but after only a few minutes, images of the graveyard popped up in his mind. He saw Cedric die again, saw his parents' as mist, and he saw Voldemort come back again, and his breath started to get shaky and shallow.
He trembled, trying to get those images out of his head, but they refused to go away. He just couldn't stop thinking about the look on Cedric's face right before the curse had hit him, and about his parents who, even when they were nothing but mist and memories, had protected him. Who had died before he could really remember. Whom he didn't really know, who had watched him grow up, unable to tell him that they loved him. Who had died to protect him. And it was just too much for him to bear. He couldn't hold back anymore and instead just started crying, his whole body shaking with the sobs that forced their way out without mercy.
He heard a twig snapping and turned around, but his vision was so blurry that he couldn't see if anyone had been watching him, and he didn't even care. So what if they saw him cry, that was nobody's business but his own, and they should only dare to mess with him. He'd been to hell and back, facing the man who had killed his parents and still made it out alive. He would show them if they tried to mess with him.