"Oh hey Ginny, Luna wanted to borrow my book on... wait, are you okay?" Hermione paused in mid-sentence, frowning, confused as to why the younger girl would be in a dorm for eighth year students.
"No, I'm not talking to anyone," she announced, chin resting on her chest, fingers playing with the hem of her Gryffindor tie, face stained with tears. Hermione sighed, having just come from having a small chat with Harry in which he'd filled her in on what was going on between them. He'd actually asked Hermione to keep an eye on Ginny and make sure she did okay. Hermione had damn near slapped him – Harry was compassionate and brave, but when it came to women, he really was clueless sometimes. Ginny didn't need looking after, not really – she was one of the strongest women Hermione knew, she'd do fine on her own, eventually. It was just a bonus, having friends there to lay in bed with you and carry you through the initial pain.
"I know you love him, but-" Hermione began gently, putting a supportive hand on Ginny's outstretched ankle. Ginny cut her off however, glaring.
"No I don't," she growled despite the tears rolling silently down her cheeks "I fucking hate him"
"No you don't," Hermione smiled sadly, drawing in a deep breath and moving onto her knees, crawling up the bed and settling in beside her friend, pulling Ginny's body against her own, listening to her sniffling for a moment as she ran her hands softly through her red hair "you love him. Its okay you know, it's alright to admit that you love someone who just doesn't feel the same about you anymore – there's no loss of dignity in it. It is what it is, and it doesn't mean you're any less who you are because you feel wronged or sad about it. I doubt Harry is simply moving on without a seconds thought either – you know he cares about you still-"
"I know he does," Ginny coughed, sniffing a few more times as she nuzzled her cheek against Hermione's collarbone and wrapped herself tighter around her friend, drawing all the warmth she could from her "that's the worse part. It was so humiliating 'Mione, it was like he couldn't even look at me. And when I left he couldn't even think of something decent to say, he just yelled at my back that he couldn't help it, and that he was sorry," she tried to say in a solid voice, although she failed miserably and just ended up sobbing slightly "I'm terrible in the relationship department! Do I just have a label on my forehead saying 'losers come here'? The only decent boyfriend I ever had turned out to be gay!" Ginny cried helplessly and Hermione chuckled tenderly, pressing a rough kiss to the top of her scalp.
"Things are going to be okay Gin, you're a strong woman and if there's anyone who can get through this, it's you. And you don't need a man, you're independent and you know it. Wipe your eyes," Hermione said, brushing her thumb over the tears on Ginny's cheekbone and pressing a kiss to her nose.
"I'm being silly aren't I?" she said and Hermione shook her head absolutely.
"No way," she insisted "you're entitled to have a good old cry about it. But when you're done, we're all going out for a meal in the three broomsticks tonight, you can come with us if you'd like," Hermione encouraged, sitting up and pulling Ginny up with her.
"Thank's Hermione," Ginny replied "but I think I'm gonna pass. I'll get some ice cream from the kitchens and do some homework, then get an early night," she said, ducking her head for a moment and pulling in a discreetly grounding breath through her chapped lips. Hermione smiled again, reaching out and cupping her face momentarily.
"Fred would want you to be happy," she breathed and Ginny sighed, swallowing heavily in an effort not to start crying again "and I want you to be happy. You will be, eventually, but for now, do whatever you need to do"
"Can we just lay here for a bit, until you need to start getting ready?" Ginny asked sheepishly. Hermione grinned, nodding and laying back against the pillows, pulling Ginny with her. Cuddles were always good, and Hermione had done research into recovery after the war, and there was actually medical proof that it boosted the immune system, which
"I don't need to be ready for another couple of hours, but you can help me if you like, I need all hands on deck if I want to battle my hair into submission"
"Potter, is there any way that we-"
"You want to go and spend time with your friends," he assumed warily, guessing what Malfoy's question was going to be. He paused for a second, his brow furrowing before he nodded once.
'Shit'
Harry jumped again, glaring at Malfoy.
"Cut it with that mind thing; it creeps me out," he snapped and Malfoy's eyes narrowed.
"I can't help it if you're tuned in on Malfoy frequency Potter, I'm not making you hear my thoughts," he shot back and Harry sighed, resisting the urge not to slam his fist into the pillar of his four poster bed.
"What's 'shit' anyway?" Harry asked to distract himself and Malfoy shrugged, glaring at the floor now.
"Everything," he said curtly. Harry was a little startled to find that actually, this was one of the first things he and Malfoy had agreed on. He couldn't quite believe that he was about to add something else to that list.
"Well, I was going to say, why don't we see my friends on Saturday and then yours on Sunday? That is, of course, if they even give up their attitude long enough to sit in the same room as me for a couple of hours" he reasoned.
"And what makes you think the Gryffindors will want to see me?" Malfoy countered.
"They won't want to see you, but they'll be polite and they'll tolerate you because they love me"
Malfoy faked a gagging sound and Harry bit his tongue so he couldn't say anything and start yet another argument.
"Fine then, your little Unicorns on Saturday, my Snakes on a Sunday," Draco said and Harry shook his head.
"The emblem is a lion Malfoy, not a Unicorn," he said, fighting not to smile at the comical way in which he'd described the Gryffindors. He didn't like it when Malfoy insulted his friends but some of the things he could come up with sometimes would have Harry trying with all his might not to laugh; which was a shame because a little laughter between them would make the whole situation ten times easier. It would also probably make the whole situation ten times more awkward and embarrassing.
"That's the same bloody thing when it comes to you lot," he shrugged and Harry simply smirked, standing up.
"Where are we going?" Draco asked.
"For a meal in the three broomsticks with the 'Unicorns', so put something decent on," Harry grinned mischievously, pulling his shirt over his head shamelessly and disappearing into the en-suit without a backwards glance. Draco scowled when he realised he'd just agreed to it, it was still Saturday after all.
Great, he could hardly contain his fucking happiness.
Harry sighed, breathing in deeply and letting calm wash over him as much as possible. Malfoy was irritated and Harry could feel it even if the young blonde was sat at the bar away from the group. He was trying to concentrate as much as he could on the conversation but his skin felt all papery and itchy and he was getting this dull throbbing behind his eye sockets that kinda vaguely made him want to throw up.
"Mum was pretty sympathetic though," Seamus said with a soft shrug and Dean smiled fondly, taking a swig from his glass of Firewhiskey.
"My Mum fucking loves you; she did a little squeal and jumped up and down when I brought him home and told her," Dean grinned and Seamus smirked, leaning back with his arm resting across Dean's chair, one of Dean's hands resting comfortably on the inside of his thigh.
"My dad just raised his eyebrows and said 'finally'," he remarked. Harry couldn't help laughing despite the migraine he was trying to conceal – at least half of Gryffindor had been betting on Seamus and Dean getting together since they were fourteen.
Harry had been convinced that the two would end up with their tongues down each other's throats at the yule ball, but alas, they'd simply skitted around each other all evening, making up for sexual frustration with banter and bad jokes. Of course, once the butterbeer started flowing, their smiles had become more obvious and whilst they'd proved half the room wrong by not ending up on the dance floor together, Harry had caught the two of them making out in a broom closet in the last year of their education before the war after Dean had broken up with Ginny. Ron had had to give him ten galleons (Harry had tried to refuse it of course, but Ron had insisted, despite bruised pride and a new appreciation for Harry's well timed guess work). Then Harry had rushed off to find Ginny and make sure she was alright of course.
"Molly did the squealing thing when Ron told her about Hermione," Harry laughed and Hermione hid her face in her hands as everyone made teasing noises at her.
"She did! My mum was bloody ecstatic, I think she's already planning a wedding," he said and Hermione shook her head.
"As much as I love your mother, I will be planning the wedding whenever one is to occur, and I am going to take a leaf out of Fred's book and put a body bind curse on her," Hermione insisted and they laughed again just as the waitress began putting the plates of food on the table.
Harry found himself zoning out of the conversation as it carried easily from reminiscing about couply things, to fitness regimes and how Seamus was getting a bit of a gut on him, but Dean was a slight health nut and would go for a run every morning. Hermione mentioned something about a muggle gym, and Seamus asked her about it, which lead onto fitness videos and what a video even was. Dean helped her explain so Harry didn't really need to do much work, and he sort of found himself flitting between thoughts, occasionally sipping his wine, listening in mildly on Malfoy's flirty conversations with the new barmaid and rolling his eyes at the cheesy lines being thrown between the two.
"Oh my god, this food is epic," Dean said and Ron nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
"Uggh, you two are complete pigs," Hermione and Harry jumped when Malfoy's mocking noise of agreement echoed in his brain.
"I'm a cute one though," Dean grinned widely, and Harry had to admit, watching his friend pout with a mouthful of cheesecake from across the table, he was right.
'You're definitely gay Potter'
"He's not wrong there," Hermione said. Seamus copied his boyfriend by shovelling as much food in his mouth as possible and posing ridiculously as Hermione held her muggle mobile up to take a picture. The device didn't normally work on Hogwarts grounds, but Harry was pretty sure she'd worked out a spell to deflect the energy that confused the technology a long time ago.
'I am not gay Malfoy'
Harry thought back furiously, but all he heard was a small noise of amusement behind him. With panic in his chest and a sweat breaking out on his forehead, he tried to focus on his plate and chewing the leftover apple turnover in his mouth.
'You've had one girlfriend Potter, and I'll bet my entire inheritance that you're still a virgin'
Harry knew what Malfoy was doing of course, the man was bored so he was taunting Harry for entertainment.
'I dated Cho Chang as well' he tried to argue in his head, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, thankful for the banter being exchanged by his friends so that they wouldn't notice his sudden red cheeks and short breath.
'And she thought you had the hots for Granger, seriously; dumb Asians and overly busty, bitter red heads that look suspiciously like your dead mother for failed relationships? You are definitely gay'
"You okay?" Hermione asked, her hand landing on his knee as she looked at him with a worried expression, making him flinch slightly. He gathered himself, drawing in a deep breath again, nodding and putting on a fake smile.
"Yeah I'm fine; just a little tired," he replied, patting her hand and for a second, he saw her intuitive gaze flicker over to Malfoy who was downing yet another glass of whiskey and continuing to chat up the bar maid.
"Have you discussed your… relationship yet?" she asked in a low voice while the rest of the table ate and talked.
"There is no relationship Hermione, we knew this from the start; he hates me," Harry said back insistently, his voice a little too high and strained for him to really be appearing as someone who was perfectly relaxed. She frowned, looking over to Malfoy again and then back.
"But do you hate him?" she asked, meeting his gaze head on. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. His brain was jilted, paused in complete standstill and he knew Draco was probably getting some sort of headache from it but – oh god since when had he started calling him Draco? He hated him! Harry Potter hated Draco Malfoy.
So why couldn't he just fucking say it already?
"You know what I think Harry?" Hermione sighed softly, keeping very voice on the down low "I think that sometimes, we are just as bad as they are with our prejudices. I think that we talk the talk about equality and acceptance and yet we're still judging people by their past mistakes-"
"Past mistakes? Hermione, the guy stood by and watched whilst a crazy psychopath carved the word 'mudblood' into your arm with a blade forged with dark magic!" Harry hissed in a low whisper "he listened to you screaming and he didn't do a thing about it," and she nodded patiently, taking his hand. She cupped his face affectionately and smiled again. Harry glanced nervously around the table at the rest of his friends – if they'd noticed that something was up, they were graciously ignoring it, and were tucking into their deserts, drinking the wine, and chatting about something to do with muggle radio and two internet guys called Dan and Phil.
"I know Harry, I know, and I will never forget the way he treated me. But don't you think that my screams haunt him at night just as much as they haunt me, you, and Ron? I think I can forgive Malfoy, if I try hard enough. I just feel - I feel like there's too much hate in the world, and continuing to do the very thing we fought against for seven years is completely hypocritical. Malfoy is... complicated. I'm still very angry with him for what he said to me when you hurt yourself a couple of months ago – this whole thing is so fucking complicated – but did you ever think that he might be just as terrified as you are?" she said and once again, none of the others had noticed a thing. He thought back to the conversation after he'd first, accidently heard Draco's thoughts at breakfast only a week previous, and he remembered their conversation, feeling a jolt in the pit of his stomach at how much they both really didn't want this bond to get any stronger and make them do… stuff.
"Ask me if I hate him again," Harry sighed. She smirked proudly.
"Do you hate him?" she asked and slowly, only once, Harry shook his head.
"No- no, no. I – I don't hate him," Harry said and to get the words out of his lips was a struggle but he knew they were true "I don't trust him," he added "but I don't – no, I don't think I hate him anymore. I can't really, I have to live with him"
Draco sat back, rubbing his eyes stressfully as he tried to make sense of the runes he was supposed to be translating. Honestly, he had no idea how he managed to keep his grades up with all the drama in his life but-
A loud crash sounded from behind one of the bookshelves and Draco hunched over, clutching his diaphragm in intense pain as he gripped the table so he wouldn't fall off his chair.
"Dray?" Blaise said, immediately by his side, crouched, clutching his shoulder worriedly.
"Dray, your uh – your nose is bleeding," Pansy said as she knelt in front of him, pushing his chin up gently to look at his face. Draco's eyes widened and anger filled his stomach, pumping through his veins and something else alongside it, something he hadn't felt in a long time – the need to protect. He ignored the cuts appearing on his face as he felt every blow; he was on his feet, marching around to the bookshelf.
Without a seconds thought or hesitation, he pulled Knott off Potter pinning him harshly up against the shelf by the cuff of his shirt, getting right in his face so their breaths were mingling. Draco had to fight to push away the stabbing feeling in his ribs, and it only angered him further.
"Oh look if it isn't lover boy coming to the rescue-"
"Shut the fuck up if you know what's good for you Theo," Draco hissed, spit spraying over Knott's cheeks as his face contorted with rage. Potter was being pulled away from the scene by Weasley and Finnigan but he knew they would only be able to stabilise him at the library tables; Potter couldn't leave for a breather because they weren't allowed to not be in the same room.
"You've forgotten your place Malfoy," Knott said, sadistic smirk quirking the left side of his bloody mouth and somewhere in his head, he congratulated Potter on his strength, Theo was worse off than they were. Draco slammed Theo's body into the wood, causing a few books to thud loudly to the floor, feeling satisfied when his fellow Slytherin winced in pain.
"Draco, come and check on-"
"Screw you Pansy," Theo said sideways "screw you too," he growled at Blaise, losing dignity fast "in fact, screw each other-" Draco decided he'd had enough of listening to Theo's voice, pulling back his leg and shoving it full pelt into his classmate's testicles, moving away from him and watching as the boy arched his back forward into the impact, falling to the floor in a foetal position, clutching his crotch desperately, squeaking out pathetic little noises of pain.
Reign it in, Draco told himself, struggling to catch his breath. It felt like it was going to explode from him again – the all too familiar sensation of fury building in his spine, gaining a foothold in his chest. He snarled, slamming his fist into the bookshelf in an attempt to prevent himself from further kicking the shit out of Knott. Pull it back, he continued to try and keep it at bay, calm it. It took him a few deep, shaky breaths and a wary, yet angry looking Pansy shakily manoeuvring him away from the scene before he could even register what had happened properly. Blaise gently pushed him into a library chair and automatically began examining his wounds and bruises, Pansy taking care of the splintered rib. He glanced sideways as Potter slapped away Ginny's hand and glared at Weasley before his gaze flickered to Malfoy's.
'You okay?' Potter asked via the link, and with that composed, slightly strained voice somewhere in his head. Draco was able to nod once and truthfully while his friends treated his injuries.
'What did he say?' Draco asked, beginning to make sense of everything as Potter allowed Granger to place an ice pack on his forehead.
'He called my mother a mudblood' the previously composed tone had vanished and the voice was harsh and unbalanced and now Draco understood – It wasn't him who was so incredibly shaky, it was Potter. Potter was shaking like a leaf. Bruce Banner indeed.
'You nearly lost control?' Draco asked simply and as he closed his eyes to allow Pansy to pop his shoulder back into place. Potter grunted in pain, feeling his own bone click at the action.
'Nearly'
"Mr Malfoy, if you could just wait in the other room," McGonagall said politely but firmly – the words should have formed a question, but it was more of a demand, and he knew she was sending him away so she could give Potter a slap on the wrist.
"I don't think so," he retorted, standing his ground "I was involved in this too, I got the shit beaten out of me as well, so I want to know what's happening. I hurt Knott as well," he admitted slowly, fighting not to hang his head at the fierce glare the old woman was fixing him with. She looked at him for a few long seconds before she swallowed, nodding stiffly, gesturing for Potter and Draco to sit in the chairs next to each other on the other side of her desk. She took her seat delicately, lacing her own fingers together on her lap and straightening her back.
"I understand that there was an incident this afternoon boys," she began, drawing in a breath that illustrated how very not happy she was with the entire situation. Well, honestly, it wasn't like Draco was fucking skipping around with daisies about the whole thing – his diaphragm was still aching and his face felt weirdly hollow where the skin had been loosely healed over.
"Knott's a douchebag, he insulted my mother-"
"Mr Potter, hold your tongue," she snapped "I know what Mr Knott said and I am fully aware of why that would upset you. What I do not understand is why Mr Malfoy would so abruptly snap and hurt someone who was presumably his friend. Explain Draco," she requested patiently and Malfoy gave her a dark look, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. The old bat already knew the answer to that, he could see it in her eyes, she just wanted him to say it out loud. Why did everyone always want him to say things out loud?
Not to mention she was one of the only people he'd never been able to outright lie to.
"Theo was beating up Potter," he said simply, as though that was the only words needed. She frowned, nodding again.
"I know this," she spoke carefully "and I know Mr Potter was giving as good as he was getting but – why?" she asked him again and Draco clenched his jaw, trying to keep under control when Potter was also staring at him gaging for a reaction.
"Look, I don't particularly enjoy getting busted up just because Hulk can't keep his freaking temper at bay," he snapped, not liking the pressure he was under to answer so fast and truthfully, something which he couldn't actually do because honestly, he had no idea why he'd triggered so hard when Theo was hurting Potter. He tried his hardest to tell himself that it was because Knott was consequently hurting him as well but somewhere inside his head a voice that didn't seem to be his own, or Potter's, told him that it was a bunch of bullshit.
"Have a biscuit Mr Malfoy," McGonagall said and Draco raised his eyebrows.
"Have a – what?" he exclaimed in confusion and she pushed the bowl of gingernuts towards him with a single withered finger. Potter was smirking about something and amusement was flashing in the headmistresses eyes behind her glasses; Draco felt a little irked that the two had a private joke.
'Just take the biscuit' Potter thought and Draco let his expression drop before he refused the biscuit, shaking his head once.
"I don't want a fucking biscuit, this is ridiculous. I want to know what our punishment is," he spat, sitting up straighter and clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in irritation.
"Watch your language Malfoy, do not forget that I am your teacher, not your Mother," she said in a hard tone, the amusement remaining as a sparkle in her soft pupils "although I doubt you are even brave enough to refer to your mother as such," she added. He dug his nails into the arms of the chair he was sitting in, but did as he was told, swallowing as much of his pride as he could.
"If you could just tell us what we'll be doing and then we can get out of your hair Professor," Potter interjected; looking reproachfully at Draco.
"Don't give me those judgy eyes Potter, you're the reason we're here," Malfoy snapped under his breath and he felt a flicker of frustration on Potter's part before McGonagall cleared her throat.
"Very well then boys, you can both attend one week's detention together with Professor Snape cleaning out the spare cauldrons-"
"You're fucking kidding me?" Potter's voice went from calm and cool to angry and outraged in a split second.
"No Mr Potter I am not 'fucking kidding' and for the hundredth time, watch your language! Theodore however will be isolated for a month and will attend classes in private sessions with a tutor. He will also be issued with a formal warning from the ministry," she informed.
"Why are the Ministry warning him?" Draco asked curiously, not truthfully having a problem with his potions master/godfather, and less pissed off with their lot now he knew their detentions would be with him.
"Racism is illegal now Draco. They can't arrest everyone for having views, but voicing them and causing situations like this – it isn't right, and we all know it," she said once and Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to ease the headache their black eye was causing "on another note, I have been meaning to ask, how are things going?" she inquired, relaxing a little in her chair.
"It's none of your business-"
"Better Professor – we're uh – things are calming down now, with the rest of the school I mean," Potter interrupted again, stopping Draco before he could get them into even more trouble.
"Can we go now?" Malfoy ignored Harry's disapproving glance and made to stand up.
"I'm assigning you a healer, she'll explain things in greater detail and will help you with any issues the two of you are faced with," McGonagall announced and Draco rolled his eyes.
"Great, someone else who has to know everything about me," he mumbled, already halfway out of the room.
"Sure – just let us know when," Harry said half-heartedly, nodding to their headmistress and following after him, closing the door behind them.
"Oh Albus," McGonagall sighed, hunching a little the moment her students left her office "I never know what to do with those two, I never feel as though they're making any progress," she breathed, bowing her head as a soft chuckle sounded from the portrait above her head.
"But don't you see Minerva? They are! Did you not notice that they sat here today after Draco had indirectly defended Harry, and not once did they shout at each other? Yes, they snapped and disagreed but they have – they have a dynamic. This is good Minnie, they're learning to live with each other," Albus smiled, the twinkle in his eyes sparkling in the candle light like he knew something she didn't.
"Malfoy wasn't defending Harry! He was defending himself," she exclaimed throwing her hands up in exasperation and Albus shook his head, his smile growing.
"Draco was angry more with the fact that Harry had been hurt by a fellow Slytherin than he was with the issue of his own pain, he just doesn't know it yet. Just keep an eye on them Minnie, I feel as though what we initially expected for their future is about to change very drastically, and we want them to be safe when it does"
"Malfoy? You still awake?" Potter whispered through the darkness.
"You know I am Potter," he snapped. It was true, they were learning to distinguish more what the other was feeling or the situations they were in.
"I was just thinking, you make a lot of references to Muggle literature and film – how?" Potter asked a little hesitantly, wondering if he would receive an angry retort or not. There was a dead silence for a few minutes where only Draco's shallow breathing could be heard before a deeper breath was taken through his teeth.
'My mother – my mother used to read Hardy to me in secret. She brought me Marvel comics when I was a kid. For god sake Potter, just go the fuck to sleep' the voice in his head was weak and strangely vulnerable. It was too much for Harry to handle, too out of character, too strange. There was no way on earth that Malfoy would let his fingers touch something even remotely Muggle. However, if Harry thought about it properly, Malfoy had not called Hermione a mudblood for... well, at least two years. Maybe, just maybe, the young aristocrat had changed, just a little.
So he did exactly what Malfoy had told him to and he went to sleep. And as always, Malfoy allowed the soft weaving of Potter's subconscious to lull him into a more peaceful slumber.
Slowly, summer began to fade and once again the beginnings of a bitter cold started to seep thickly into the air surrounding Hogwarts. Frost could be seen gathering on top of the mountains and the giant squid had not been seen above the slightly frozen surface of the lake for weeks. Hermione had started using her fire in the jar trick during lessons while they worked and she'd shown Harry how to do it so he and Malfoy wouldn't get cold sat together bickering at the back of almost every class.
Harry had not said anything about Draco's confession about the Muggle comics, choosing not to dwell on it as most of the time it gave him a headache, and then Malfoy would get curious and try to search his thoughts again. So they survived mostly on steely, embarrassed silences and sessions of arguing over tiny things that turned into icy silences, which made it even more awkward. However, Harry could feel the whole thing becoming more normal, more usual by the day.
He was trying to forget about how unfair it was that fate should put him in such a situation straight after he'd won a war at the age of just seventeen, as it normally only caused him even more anger and earned him a heated quip from Draco about being a 'self-obsessed emo boy'. But despite the cold, dull demeanour hanging over Hogwarts, the sun continued to shine with that awful white colour that winter gave it, and more often than not, it was just annoying and garish and it darkened his mood further.
"Potter, you're daydreaming again. I can't focus when your brain is buzzing at me," Malfoy huffed through gritted teeth, looking up at him from the essay on the viridi lucerna for Herbology, a plant that, at full maturity, will glow bright enough to lead a stranded human through the middle of the snow storms of the Atlantic.
"Sorry, I'm brooding again aren't I?" he sighed and Malfoy's expression softened ever so slightly, a smirk playing at his lips as he nodded.
"Since when did you let me insult you so easily? Are you going soft on me, Potter?" he asked smugly and Harry rolled his eyes.
"I let you insult me since you started being right – well, about the mood thing anyway. I'm in this funk and it's really pissing me off," he pouted, slumping back in the armchair of their sitting room. Malfoy scoffed.
"Yes," he replied sarcastically "I've noticed. I don't care what's bothering you Potter, just quit being all murky; you remember what it lead to last time," Malfoy said, blue eyes subconsciously flickering down to the scars on his pale knuckles where he'd hit him on their first week.
"You're a heartless bastard sometimes Malfoy," Harry sighed, and Malfoy shrugged, not smiling or scowling, just looking. Something like that wasn't even an insult to Malfoy, it was a fucking compliment. Which was really quite fucked up if Harry thought about it properly.
"Got nothing to lose," Malfoy said in a rough tone, returning to his essay.
Harry continued to watch him though, wondering why he had never noticed the reasons behind Malfoy and his vendetta against the world before. He supposed, in a non-gay, normal, completely not-creepy way, that Malfoy was reasonably attractive. His face was always so intense. The whole concept of Malfoy was ridiculously intense though, in everything that he did or said or looked at. His jaw wasn't really pointy anymore and his skin – well, Harry had no idea how Malfoy had escaped adolescence without a single teenage spot, but it was flawless, almost like porcelain; and ghostly pale, kind of translucent. His lips were average sized and surprisingly darker than the rest of his complexion, although not by much. His nose was dead straight and angular. His eyes were ice cold and a striking cool water blue, quite unique actually. His hair seemed to have grown out more now as well, and it hung over his face slightly if he forgot to push it out of the way now and again. Now Harry was looking properly, it wasn't completely platinum blonde anymore either – maybe a little dustier now, with time. It was always clean though, and silky looking. Not that Harry had a fetish for silky hair or anything of course.
Malfoy's wardrobe choices had changed as well, and Harry knew that it was muggle inspired. More often than not, Malfoy would wear fitted jeans with some kind of turtle neck jumper and the same pair of black, high top, muggle converse trainers all the time, even for school. And sometimes, Harry noticed, when he was in a better mood, Malfoy would wear his black denim jacket that had obviously been brought from one of the expensive wizarding shops; it made the girls coo over him even more and it was hopelessly annoying and cliché. That was actually probably the reason why Malfoy favoured the jacket, he knew that it got on Harry's nerves.
However, Harry had been unbelievably relieved that McGonagall's prediction about the whole 'you'll want to have gay sex with each other because of the bond' thing wasn't taking any affect and they remained firmly on an acquaintance level that they'd had to build up in order to live with the new situation. Harry didn't know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Previously, he'd hated Malfoy. It'd been a simple, straightforward routine. He'd never had to think twice about it. But now, now they had to live together and 'get along' and it had him questioning everything he'd ever assumed about Malfoy.
The boy he'd hated for seven years didn't even really exist.
They were walking down the corridor together again, mumbling angrily about something when Romilda Vane slammed straight into Harry, causing her books to crash to the floor. Harry's arms automatically went out to catch her by the arms and when she looked up at him, a smile immediately broke out on her tanned, pretty features.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Malfoy sighed "if it isn't fangirl fanny," he muttered. Harry glared at him briefly sideways.
"You okay Rom?" he asked with a kind smile, bending down to pick up her books for her. She blushed scarlet when he gave them back, biting her bottom lip nervously, tucking a strand of thick, wispy, black hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, uh – sorry about that Harry, I was running away from – and you were just kind of-"
"Don't sweat it, what were you running from?" he asked, frowning, concerned. She swallowed, looking behind her warily.
"N-nothing, Nate's just a little – he's a bit irritated today and I was being stupid and he-"
"You mean he was chasing you because he was angry?" Harry asked, a concerned expression gracing his features. She shook her head immediately, panicked.
"No, that came out wrong – look Harry, thanks for picking my books up and that but – well, I'm late for uh... Transfiguration," she said, moving past them and speed walking the rest of the way down the corridor.
"She was lying," Harry said and Malfoy scoffed.
"Duh brainless, of course she was, she wasn't about to blurt you a story of domestic violence was she?" Malfoy retorted, and Harry slapped him across the head, wincing when he felt the blow on his own scalp. Malfoy looked half frustrated and half amused as he rubbed his head.
"She'll be fine Potter, someone will notice if it's really bad," Malfoy's tone went a little softer as he looked Harry directly in the worried eyes and smiled ever so slightly "now get your perky little bubble butt to class or we're going to be late again, and I for one do not want another week of detentions down in the dungeons," Malfoy insisted, nudging Harry to keep moving.
"Fuck sake, I don't have a bubble butt!"
"You totally do Potter, it's very noticeable"
"You spend an awful lot of time determining the shape of my butt Malfoy"
"I'm a young man, of course I spend an inordinate amount of time looking at people's backsides," he replied, smirking "it's a hobby. Now move," he gestured.
"But I thought you felt at home in the dungeons – Snape's like your second Dad isn't he?" Harry frowned and Malfoy clenched his jaw, shaking his head a little miserably.
"I don't mind Snape, it's the fact that you two spend the whole two hours a night glaring daggers at each other and snapping awfully orchestrated comments back and forth that pisses me off," Malfoy continued irritably, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as they walked to the back of the room, ignoring the usual amount of stares they got from people who were quite frankly too involved in the lives of others, and not nearly involved enough in their own.
"It's not my fault, I don't know what to say to him after..." Harry broke off and Malfoy drew in a deep breath, turning to him before they sat down, blocking his line to their desk.
"Look Potter, Snape's the bravest son of a bitch I ever met, but he's still human, as much as he'd like people to think he isn't. Now I get that you find it hard to accept that, but he's done shit for you that I can't even think about anymore – you owe him the effort to try and at least apologise. He'll try to make out that he doesn't need it, but he would probably benefit from hearing it. I know he's a dick – like literally one of the most insulting, bitter old bastards I've ever known, and he's never been nice to you, unlike everyone else on the sodding planet. But you weren't pleasant either and he worked his fucking ass off trying to keep you alive," Malfoy said firmly, his voice surprisingly void judgement or dislike; just advice and understanding "regardless of his creepy, selfish, less than innocent motivations," Malfoy finished and Harry could have sworn for a second that his hand twitched as though he was going to put it on his shoulder or something. The moment disappeared as soon as it arose however and before he could register it, he was sitting down next to Malfoy, still dazed and lost in deep thought.
Malfoy was completely right, and it made Harry want to punch him in the face.