Chapter 2 – Halloween
September and October passed far quicker than Harry could have possibly imagined; his first year, they seemed to drag on forever as he got used to his new job. He had enjoyed teaching immensely as a fifth year, and still enjoyed it now, but it was rather different being the head of secret rebellious society and a proper teacher. He had many more responsibilities now, for one, and he missed his friends, who had been by his side for a decade and a half already. It was odd being at Hogwarts without Ron and Hermione, and he found himself, during those first couple of months, missing them every day. He had Neville and Hagrid, of course, and this made the transition immensely easier. And eventually, he got used to his new life back at Hogwarts, his first real home, his new home, and he got used to visiting his friends only occasionally, on the weekends and at times during the holidays; Ron and Hermione more often than Ginny or Luna or the rest of the Weasleys. He visited his godson as regularly as possible, as well, and enjoyed every moment with Teddy thoroughly. Before he knew it, an entire year had passed, and his return to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place for the summer was surprisingly bittersweet.
This new year, however, did not have the slower pace the previous year had started with, but instead jumped straight into the immense speed with which the time had passed during the second term of the previous year. He mostly managed to avoid Malfoy, never being alone in a room with him except for that one awkward encounter at the beginning of October. By the time Halloween arrived, Harry had gotten used to Malfoy's constant presence – at least, for the most part. At times he could swear he felt his gaze on him, causing his entire body to feel prickly; but whenever he turned to match his gaze, he found Malfoy deeply engaged in conversation with another teacher, or grading papers in the staff room, or focused on eating his meal, no sign at all that he had even glanced in Harry's direction.
The morning of Halloween passed pleasantly, and he spent most of it going over material they had already studied, to give the students – and himself – a brief break. The feast was wonderful, of course, Hagrid's pumpkins looking particularly fantastic. At the end of it, however, full to the brim and having thoroughly enjoyed himself, he realized he had left the fourth year Gryffindor students' homework in the staff room, and although he was already halfway to his rooms, he retraced his steps and made his way there, instead.
The staff room, a warm room with a kitchenette, a large table, and several comfortable chairs, was one of his favorite places in the school, now that he had the right to spend time in it. He honestly preferred to spend time in here, conversing with Neville over a cup of tea, than be in his office or room. He was even sort of looking forward to going there right now, no matter how short the visit was going to be.
The room was empty when he arrived, as was to be expected with the feast only just over. He spotted his students' essays on a coffee table at the opposite end of the room, but, instead of leaving after picking them up, he decided he fancied a cup of tea, and decided to make one before making his way to his rooms.
He was in the middle of making said cup of tea when he heard the door open and close behind him. He turned around, expecting maybe Neville or Professor Engram, who were as frequent visitors as he was; the "hello" he had begun saying died on his lips at the sight of none other than Malfoy.
Malfoy looked disheveled, like he had run here; Harry had to admit to himself that it was kind of attractive – that he was kind of attractive, especially now that they were no longer teenagers. Malfoy was never exactly lanky, but as he had realized earlier in the year, his shoulders had certainly filled outl just past his 26th birthday. He currently wore his long hair done up in a high ponytail, but some of his hair had fallen out, presumably on the way to the staff room, and it framed his face nicely, softening his features somewhat.
"I'm just here to get some parchments," Malfoy blurted, and it sounded to Harry like an odd excuse, considering he, too, was only in the staff room to get papers, and yet he had not run here – he hadn't even walked in a particularly quick pace. Well, he supposed it wasn't his concern, and he nodded, sipping on his tea, watching as Malfoy searched the room for his parchments. He finally seemed to find them under a transfiguration book Harry was pretty sure Neville had borrowed from Professor McGonagall – Minerva, it's Minerva (Harry still had trouble with the concept, despite being her colleague for more than a year now). He swiped them up quickly and stuffed them in an inside pocket of his robe, and Harry noticed that the pile was rather thin – only a few pieces, five or six at most. Maybe it was essays from his N.E.W.T. classes. Harry didn't know what minimum grade Malfoy demanded from his post O.W.L. students – Harry himself only accepted Es and Os, but he wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy was even stricter and only accepted O-level students.
"Right," Malfoy said after a few moments of silence. Harry realized he'd been staring – and oddly, Malfoy had been staring back. "Well. Good night."
"Good night," Harry replied lamely. "Happy Halloween."
As if echoing Harry's earlier actions, Malfoy nodded in response, then, wordlessly, turned around and exited the staff room.
Harry's tea had gone cold. He Vanished it.
Thank Merlin, Draco thought to himself as he patted his chest to make sure the parchment was still in his pocket. And thank Longbottom for reminding me of the letter. And pointing out Potter was also on his way to the staff room.
Draco snorted. Who would've thought a decade ago that he would be thankful for Neville Longbottom (who had been in the staff room that morning when he received his correspondence), of all people. Or that he would be so desperate to hide his mail from Harry Potter, for that matter.
Dear Draco, the letter said. I do not think you should avoid Potter. It isn't healthy.
Freaking Daphne Greengrass and her freaking terrible advice. As if she had any real influence on his decisions.
The only thing keeping him sane was staying away from Potter. And he would certainly state that in his reply.
Daphne had no idea what she was talking about.
A/N: a short one, but it looks like this slow burn will indeed be slightly faster than OTT. That said, they have quite a ways to go before they can even become friends, let alone boyfriends.
Love,
JustGail
