Author's Note: Fun fact, I also considered Immortality Sucks as my title. Hehe. The more you know...
~Chapter Four~
Draco stared down at the sealed note in his hands, the noises of the Great Hall quickly drowning under the onslaught of thoughts that had begun to crash against his mind in waves. His mother had written.
He ran a finger seemingly in an idle fashion along the green, wax seal of snakes, bearing the words Sanctimonia Vincet Semper, a motto which no longer applied to him. Or maybe it did, but just not in the way it once had. His jaw flexed as his hands remained lax. It had been three days since she had found out and had only just owled him. Was that a good sign? He flipped it over to look at his name. The script was basically the same. Maybe a little unsteady?
"Is that a letter from your mother?" Pansy asked from his right side, leaning over to peer at the piece of still folded parchment curiously.
The blond nodded curtly, sniffing in assumed nonchalance as he set the note down on the table, the Malfoy seal staring up at him ominously. He shook the absurd thought from his mind.
The dark-haired witch furrowed her eyebrows before turning her attention to Blaise, who was sitting across from Draco. "Did you hear what happened to Potter last night?" she asked.
Blaise snorted. "Yeah, I did. I don't know if it's actually true though."
Draco lifted his fork and took a bite of food, without checking what it was beforehand. Everything he had tried since the incident had tasted the same. Awful. He needed to eat though to keep up appearances despite his body's inability to thrive off it any longer. He swallowed, opting not to wash the too dry bite down with a sip of pumpkin juice. He found liquids even more intolerable, being too close in texture to blood but tasting nothing like it.
"What happened?" he asked in an offhanded manner as he stabbed another bite of food, ignoring the surge of venom production from the errant thought.
"Oh, I heard too," Astoria Greengrass said from a couple seats down, a smile detectable in her words that wasn't exactly pleasant.
The blond set down his fork and looked up at his housemates. They were all smiling in a similar fashion, making him inexplicably and quite suddenly feel very on edge. "Well, what is it?" he asked tersely.
Blaise glanced around him and then leaned forward on his forearms, saying in a hushed tone, "The story is that he fell from his broom on the Quidditch pitch when he was higher than the stands with no cushioning charm to break his fall," he paused before adding simply, "A straight drop."
Draco's eyes widened ever so slightly. No. "What?" Blaise nodded slowly, the smile still there.
The blond pushed himself up from his seat unthinkingly. Why had he fallen? That wasn't like the Gryffindor seeker. "Is he in the hospital wing or did they transfer him to St. Mungo's?"
Pansy grabbed his arm. "Neither-"
"What do you mean 'neither'?" Draco asked, cutting her off swiftly, barely managing to keep his voice even as a sinking feeling hit him hard and squarely in the chest, making it hard to breathe. No. No, he couldn't be-
"Draco. Draco, did you hear me?"
The blond looked down to see Blaise shooting him an oddly curious look that made his unease only grow.
"What?" he asked sharply.
His friend turned and motioned over to the Gryffindor table with a wave of his hand in a patronizing flourish. "He's right there."
Draco's gaze shifted over to find the Gryffindor wizard sitting at his usual seat beside Granger - laughing about something no less. "He looks fine." He sat down slowly, the panic he had been seized with lessening its hold on his chest. He let out a slow breath. That was... unexpected.
"I know. Isn't it odd?" Pansy asked, not seeming to notice his reaction, as she and the other Slytherins peered over at him.
"Quite," Blaise inserted, his gaze resting on his best friend instead.
Draco frowned as he scanned the wizard for any visible signs of injury. A scar, a scratch, or a grimace perhaps when he shifted in his seat. No, he looked perfectly well. His breathing eased. "It must be a lie," he said finally, the disconcerting feeling in his chest disappearing almost completely but not quite.
The wizard of topic looked over, and he found himself suddenly gazing into surprised vivid, green eyes, and the feeling of unease suddenly melted away, leaving him with a seed of warmth in his chest. He cleared his throat, his gaze shifting back down at his plate. Very unexpected.
"Harry, is something wrong?"
The dark-haired wizard shook his head as he eyed the Slytherin table warily, the wizards and witches eating and talking amongst each other. He could have sworn they were all just staring at him when he had first looked over, including Malfoy. Their stares had induced an unwanted feeling he had been subjected to almost daily when Voldemort had still been a threat. Harry's eyebrows furrowed. Except for Draco's. He had almost appeared concerned. Harry let out an incredulous laugh. Maybe he had damaged his brain the night before.
"Are you feeling okay, Harry? That fall might have really-"
"Hermione," Harry hissed, looking away from the green and silver table and meeting his friend's sheepish gaze. "No one was supposed to know about that," he said in a harsh whisper, not addressing the red-headed witch, sitting across from him, who had spoken to him.
"It's all right, Harry. Your secret's safe with me," Ginny Weasely said as she leaned forward and placed a hand over top his. "I was wondering, would you want to study with me this evening in the common room?" she asked, her tone quietly hopeful.
Harry forced a smile and pulled his hand away gently. "Thanks, Ginny, but I'm studying with Hermione already."
"Oh, I see," the witch said softly, looking down at her lap, her hair falling down and obscuring her face in the process.
"You can come too, Ginny," Hermione offered quickly.
Harry's lips pressed together firmly as his friend shot him an apologetic grimace before turning away to give her the week's password. He reminded himself that Ginny had acknowledged they wouldn't be getting back together over the summer when Harry had finally gotten the nerve to tell his best friend's little sister he wasn't interested anymore.
Well, he actually had come to the conclusion he never had been interested to begin with—not really—but he hadn't had the nerve to tell her that. So he had instead stumbled over his apology, telling her he had decided he couldn't date his best mate's sister, that is just wasn't on, and that they should remain just friends - completely leaving out the bit where he had come to the realization in a pub the week before, after snogging a muggle guy a couple years older than him, that he enjoyed kissing blokes much more than any girl he had ever kissed, her included.
Harry lifted his pumpkin juice and took a sip, feeling much better. No. There was nothing to worry about. She had said she understood completely. He glanced up to meet wide, brown eyes gazing at him with an expression that had him looking away and stifling a cough. Nothing to worry about at all.
Draco strode down the last hallway towards his dorm. The arched windows letting in a cool breeze as the sun set behind the tree-line of the Forbidden Forest, the orange sky drawing attention to where his life had begun to fall apart. Life. He snorted at the word as his mother's unread note weighed heavily in his pocket. His lips twitched. He was going to read it, but not until he had certain privacy. It could contain sensitive material after all.
He pushed open the door to his common room to see three Gryffindors sitting on the red couch. Granger was sitting beside Potter, who was sitting beside... Weasley's little sister. The witch was sitting rather close to the wizard, who was looking up at him with a look of guarded anticipation. The Gryffindor thought he was going to say something insulting.
Draco smirked. He had indeed been about to do that exact thing, but perhaps not. "Hello, Harry," he said simply.
Dark eyebrows shot up under an equally dark fringe. "Hello... Draco," Harry replied with noted hesitance.
The blond ignored the looks of shock their greeting had garnered from the two witches, particularly the red- head, who had inched even closer to Harry since his arrival almost to the point where their legs were touching. He sat down on the black sofa, placing his bag on the cushion beside him and making himself appear comfortable as the muscles in his shoulders and neck rebelled, the one in his mouth following quickly.
"All we're missing now is a portrait of Godric Gryffindor to hang over the fireplace."
Harry and Draco sat alone in the common room, working on their DADA project. Hermione had ushered an unwilling Ginny up to her dorm only a few minutes after the Slytherin had shown up much to Harry's surprise. It was almost as if she was giving them privacy. Harry's lips quirked to the side as he began to read again from the book in his lap.
"What about this? We could make a spell that would incapacitate lake mermaids," Harry said, shivering at the memory of the vicious creatures he had encountered in fourth year.
Draco didn't bother looking up from his book as he sat across from him on the center cushion of the black leather couch. "No, there's already a spell for that," he said in a distracted voice as he continued searching the text. Perhaps a-
"There is?"
Draco looked up slowly. "Yes, of course there is. Dumbledore created it when they had them shipped in for the Tri-Wizard tournament in fourth year." He noticed the look of shock on the wizard's face. "You didn't know that?"
Harry blinked slowly. "No, I didn't. How did you?"
Draco shrugged his shoulders as he looked back down at the text. He turned the page. "My godfather." He ignored the lump in his throat at the mention of the deceased Potions professor.
"Oh... I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't know," Harry said quietly.
Draco didn't respond. What would be a good spell? Maybe something to do with vampires. Or was that too morbid? He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought over it.
"Draco?"
The blond glanced up, shooting the wizard an arched look. "Yes - Harry?"
Harry swallowed hard. "Maybe-" He hesitated, unsure if what he was about to say would be taken poorly. He hadn't even gone over the idea that much. It had just kind of popped into his head and then tried to escape through his mouth. Maybe it was a bad idea.
Draco raised one platinum eyebrow.
Harry cleared his throat and scooted forward on the couch, running a hand through his messy hair. "Maybe we-" He pressed his lips together tightly between his teeth, losing his nerve again.
Draco blinked. "Is that all?" he asked in an unimpressed voice, his lips pulling tightly to the right in impatience.
"No, what I-" Harry stopped again. He took in a deep breath, held it for a moment and then let it out in a huff. "Maybe we could be friends," he said in a rush.
Draco held his chin in place when it tried to drop in a rather uncouth manner, his eyebrows lifting in his distracted state. Harry Potter wanted to be his friend? He thought the wizard hated him or at least disliked him a considerable amount.
"Friends?" he asked slowly, letting the word roll around on his tongue as if he were tasting its palatability. It was surprisingly not unpleasant. His gaze narrowed suddenly, and he leaned back in his seat and shot the wizard a suspicious look. "Is this your way of trying to keep an eye on me? Because I'm quite fine on my own. I don't need a babysitter."
"No." Harry shook his head forcefully. "No, I just... we're partners for this and then for Potions. And, and well, there have been other things..." He dropped off as he thought of the times they had saved each other during the war, feeling uncomfortable bringing them up for some reason.
Draco nodded slightly, deciding not to pick on the wizard's non-eloquent ways at that moment. "It doesn't bother you what I am?"
"Well, it'll take some getting used to. But, no, not really."
The blond thought for a moment. He had wanted to be the wizard's friend in first year, but that had been mostly because he was famous. He wasn't sure how he felt about the offer just then, but with his new situation, friends would most likely prove to not only be highly beneficial but necessary, especially from someone held in such high regard in the wizarding community.
His gaze quickly ran over the wizard. Not to mention his undeniably pleasing scent and touch. Venom began to pool in his mouth, and he felt the distinct urge to take in a deep breath, which he had been avoiding in the wizard's presence. He swallowed quickly and pushed away the impulse, berating himself mentally.
"How about we try acquaintances who don't hate each other first?" he forced out in a deliberate manner as he pointedly ignored the overwhelming feeling that he was making a huge mistake.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, sure," he said, his hand finding his hair again. "How is that different than what we are now?" he asked hesitantly.
Draco tilted his head to the side slightly, his sharp gaze catching the very end of a bandage peeking out from the wizard's sleeve as he messed with his hair. "Small talk for one. Such as - did you fall off your broom last night?" he asked the question somewhat abruptly.
"I'm sorry?" Harry straightened, his hand dropping and his posture noticeably stiffening at the query.
"Your broom, Potter. Did you fall off it?" he asked in an even tone, his gaze narrowing at the wizard's suddenly tense demeanor.
"No. No, I haven't done that in ages. Why?"
Draco frowned. He looked like he was lying. But why? He shook his head and softened his gaze. "No reason. Just some gossip."
"Right." The wizard nodded as his gaze flitted around the room quickly. "Ah, listen, I should, I should probably go. It's gotten late."
The blond nodded, finding himself holding back a smile at the wizard's words. "Yes, it's almost a quarter past nine," he said dryly.
"Yeah. Sorry," the dark-haired Gryffindor responded in a distracted tone as he stood up quickly, his book dropping to the floor in his eagerness to get out of the room.
Draco watched in amusement as the wizard leaned over to grab his dropped book, hitting his head soundly on the nearby table in the process. A breath of a laugh escaped his lips when Harry stood up, rubbing his forehead with a sheepish grin directed at him and said rather ineloquently, "Ow."
He shook his head and looked away from the somehow infectious expression, a small smile pushing persistently at the corners of his stubborn mouth. "You're a mess, Potter."