A/N: This one is a little long, but at least we're starting to get somewhere! Sorry this is all moving so slowly. I promise I'll keep updating as often as I can manage! Of course, reviews are highly appreciated.
"I wanted it to be a surprise! Mostly, I just thought you'd talk me out of it if you knew." Said Mr. Weasley merrily. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all stood to the side of the flow of students bustling out of the great hall, listening to Arthur Weasley's explanation. "They've offered me the position of Muggle Studies teacher!"
"That's great, Mr. Weasley!" exclaimed Hermione with sincerity. Harry couldn't help but form a grin at seeing Mr. Weasley's giddiness. For once he'd be able to display his passion of muggle knick-knacks for others to see. The Weasley children did not reflect the same excitement as the others in the group.
"Won't mum be lonely?" Ron asked.
"I'll be back at the Burrow every weekend, and your mother is going to spend more time with Bill, Fleur, and the baby. And now we get to spend the whole year together!'
Ginny's iciness finally thawed, and she gave her father a quick hug.
"The whole year?" Ron asked dumbly. This warranted a dangerous arch in Hermione's eyebrows.
"Ronald!" she harped. Just as Harry began searching for an excuse to avoid the impending quarrel, Professor McGonagall materialized beside them. Harry noticed her typically perfect hair was slightly askew, hinting at the duties of Headmistress beginning to frazzle her.
"I need to speak to your for a moment." She claimed with the same unyielding authority that was usually expelled from her lips. She pointed towards Ron and Hermione. "It will take some time to get everything completely organized, but prefects will obviously need to be reassigned. We will be sticking to only two seventh years per dormitory, and they will change four times a year along with dormitory assignments." She explained this all very quickly, as if she had already done so many, many times. "Are you still interested in being prefects?"
"Oh, yes, of course!" piped Hermione.
"Mr. Weasley?"
"Yes?" asked Arthur. McGonagall's eyes closed in minor frustration at the mix up.
"No, I meant," she trailed off, pointing to Ron. Ron brightened up with alertness and opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur interceded.
"Of course he will." Arthur said proudly, clapping his son on the shoulder.
"Very well." McGonagall noted. "And you, Mr. Potter?"
"Oh, I wasn't a prefect, ever." Harry explained awkwardly, wondering how Professor McGonagall could have confused that.
"We're considering all seventh years for prefect duties this year, regardless of prior qualifications. Are you interested at this time?"
"Erm, maybe next time." Harry muttered. "I think I'm just going to focus on my schoolwork for right now."
"That's a first." Ron snorted, earning a glare from Hermione. McGonagall frowned at Ron.
"Mr. Weasley."
"Sorry."
"No, I meant your father this time." McGonagall was quickly growing tired of the confusion. "I will show you to the teacher's lounge if you are unoccupied."
"Excellent. I'll see you lot in the morning." Arthur said, following McGonagall. Ron watched after his father.
"She seems pretty stressed." Noticed Ginny.
"Should I change my last name, or something?" offered Ron.
Draco quickly learned that dormitory three was actually the Ravenclaw common room, but of course no one would say that directly. Annoyingly, the students were led by Professor Flitwick to dormitory three, as if it was some great mystery as to what was in this part of the castle. Draco scaled the staircase behind a pair of second year boys that had apparently just decided that they would be best friends.
He was tempted to silence their unruly giggling with a well-placed foot to trip them. The thought breathed a precocious adrenaline through Draco's dusty bones where the feeling had once been familiar. Now almost all feelings were completely alien to him or else breathtakingly painful. The latter was currently proving to be true. A shower of guilt boiled under his skin and panic brimmed in his eyes. How could he have almost done that? Either of those children could be war-torn or parentless. This moment could have been their first instance of happiness in months, and Draco almost ruined it. The thought of such selfishness made it difficult for him to breath.
The moment Flitwick opened the door to the common room Draco shoved his way through. All he wanted to do was escape that moment on the stairs. His intention was to head directly to his dormitory and bury his emotional state into his bed, but he was paused in surprise at the décor of the common room. He had expected a sweep of dark blue trimmed in bronze, but instead was met with a mismatch of color and design. No uniform style could be discerned. This was no longer the Ravenclaw common room. It was dormitory three. Draco's stomach turned at the thought of what they'd done to his Slytherin common room.
But really, he had no right to complain. He had been the one that jumped to his feet to pull that paper from that vase and get stuck here. Despite his earlier display, he was still unsure about how he felt about this situation. It had just been that look on Potter's face. The guy looked so unbearably sad in front of that hall of students; far sadder than what was reasonable in that moment. Seeing Potter that way had brought on another swarm of guilt, and Draco would have done anything to make him look happier. Honestly, it looked like he was about to cry.
What a cry baby. But of course, if anyone had a right to cry, it was Harry Potter.
Draco hung his head and moped towards the stairs in search of a bed to surrender himself to. Upon finding the appropriate dorm, Draco was greeted by his roommates. Or, rather, they both gawked at him, unsure of whether or not to be friendly.
"Hi." Draco said to them. Justin Finch-Fletchley nodded back to him.
"Hiya, Malfoy." Neville Longbottom said, feigning geniality. Draco assumed this was a thorough enough exchange of pleasantries to earn him the right to move on. He spied two empty beds and fell into the left one, giving no care to his fully-dressed status. The others seemed ready to move on from Draco's appearance and continued chatting.
Their words dulled away from Draco's senses as he entered the deepest despair of his daily routine. This was the part where he stared at the empty expanse of white sheets beside him. Admittedly, this "expanse" was much smaller in the narrow four-poster Hogwarts bed than in his bed at home, but the empty space was just as tauntingly existent. It was a constant reminder of his solitude. There was no one there for him to share his thoughts with. No one there to look back at him and truthfully say, "I understand." No one he could trust enough to share his life and existence with. And, most of all, no one who trusted him enough to share their life and existence with.
Draco was torn from his mind as the door opened. He looked up to see who his other roommate would be, hoping for a Slytherin face.
Of course. It was Harry Potter.
Harry and Draco locked eyes momentarily, then Draco turned back to look at his sheets. Neville gave an overly enthusiastic greeting to the new arrival, and Draco choked back his discomfort. The other boys' attention turned to the bundle of clothes that were cradled in Harry's arms.
"Flitwick sent me up with these. Non house-specific uniforms." Harry explained as Neville began picking a tie out from the bundle.
"Purple and black?" he asked, noting the series of stripes going down the tie.
"Probably the only neutral colors they could come up with." Said Justin, folding away the new additions to his wardrobe.
"Malfoy, want your stuff?" asked Harry. Draco turned over slowly to see Harry toss a pile onto the front of Draco's bed. They both paused momentarily. Despite everything the two had subjected each other to, here they were, having a normal moment. Harry was treating Draco like a normal person, as if Draco had legitimacy in being there, and wasn't just a Death Eater coward.
"Thanks." Said Draco. Harry blinked surprisedly, not expecting such a simple and sincere response. Draco turned back over, and Harry wished he wouldn't. He seemed upset, and for some reason Harry wanted to fix that. Shaking the thought away, Harry rejoined the conversation with Neville and Justin.
A time stretching silence was all that Harry heard as he lied awake in his bed. This wasn't unusual, but at home he could usually have a drink to help the process along.
The bed felt cold despite the early September heat and a heavy loneliness hung as tangibly over Harry as his blankets, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to get out of that place. He turned over as a rustling met his ears.
He and Malfoy locked a gaze once again, but this time a surprised one as Harry caught him pulling a sport coat on. Malfoy was obviously about to leave, and the awkwardness of the situation left Harry searching for something appropriate to do. Should he pull his wand on him? Or just roll over and pretend to go back to sleep?
Draco sighed loudly.
"Want to go for a walk, Potter?"
Harry answered instantly.
"Sure."