Chapter 9 What You See Can Only Hurt
Chapter 9 What You See Can Only Hurt
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, nothing is mine. Everything belongs to JKR.
Warnings: Violence, adult language, slash-y elements (HD, naturally)
A/N: What can I say? Getting an Internet connection in Ireland is pure hell. Thanks to my beta!
It had been a couple of days since it had happened.
Since the kiss.
Just thinking about it – and he really tried not to – brought a hot flush onto Harry's cheeks. He had been, after all, kissed by Draco Malfoy of all people. The Slytherin Prince. I think I heard Ginny call him the Sexy Prince of Snakes once. And what had he, Harry, done afterwards? Blushed like a silly teenage girl and ran off, babbling something incoherent about 'being friends'.
The truth, oh the horrifying truth was that Harry had been freaked out by how nice that particular kiss had been, though it had surprised the hell out of him. What had made him freak out even more, however, was that he just may have wanted more. And that really wasn't an option.
First of all, no matter how... handsome Draco was – not that Harry looked or anything - he would always be a Malfoy, a Slytherin, his total opposite. You know what they say about opposites attracting each other... Harry scoffed at himself. That's not the point. Going out or just fooling around with Draco Malfoy would be fated to be doomed. Quite simple. Or at least that's what Harry kept telling himself.
Draco, for instance, would have to deal with a murderous Ron, and Harry with an equally homicidal Snape. Not to mention leading all Gryffindors and Slytherins to war – to Harry's knowledge, there had never been a Gryffindor/Slytherin couple. Well, I think mum and Snape had some kind of thing going on at school... Ugh. Harry blanched.
Besides, they had too much history between them, stuff that couldn't be wiped away by their recent truce and friendship. They both had their own prejudices that ran deep beneath sight. Things would never work out between the two boys. The whole wizarding world would be in uproar should they find out that Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, was dating the ultimate Slytherin, a Death Eater's son. And since when has Harry Potter cared what people think of him?
I'm not making excuses, he argued hotly with his snide inner voice that suggested otherwise.
"Harry? You okay there?" Hermione's concerned voice acquired a hint of accusation. "Have you been listening at all?"
Snapping out of his thoughts, Harry innocently blinked at his friend. "Of course I have been listening, Hermione. How can you possibly think otherwise?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What did I tell you about the four laws of charming inanimate objects into life?"
"Uh... " Harry racked his brains desperately, trying to remember when they had talked about those laws. "You told me that... that... "
"Yes?" Hermione asked slowly, her eyebrow rising questioningly. Harry swallowed with difficulties, then decided to admit his dire error of ways like a man.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I really didn't listen."
Hermione looked ready to start berating him, all fire and wrath, but instead, she merely sighed. "Oh Harry, what am I going to do with you?"
Frowning and feeling confused by her concerned reply, Harry cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"Do you think I'm blind or something, Harry? Honestly, give me some credit, will you," Hermione huffed.
Harry was still utterly bemused. "Do you think you could stop answering by asking a question?"
She gave him a long, hard look. "Stop avoiding the matter, Harry."
"Me?" Harry cried out, completely at sea. "Who's the one being evasive here? I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Don't think I don't know that you," Hermione declared, her voice low enough not to reach anyone's but Harry's ears at the library, "are having an affair with Malfoy."
The books in front of Harry scattered to the floor all the sudden as he jumped from shock. "It was only one kiss!" he blurted out, horrified, before he could stop himself.
Hermione acquired a smug look. "I knew it," she crowded, swishing her wand absent-mindedly to collect the books back from the floor. "I knew something had happened."
"But you just said... " Harry gaped at her, feeling his eyes grew wide as saucers. "You just said you were certain we were having an... an affair!"
"Oh hush." She waved a dismissive hand. "I didn't know that, I just knew at least something had happened between you two. And I wanted you to tell me. So... you kissed?"
Baffled, Harry couldn't help but notice that the tone she used was not accusative or even disgusted. "You're not... grossed out or anything?"
"Harry," Hermione said softly, covering his hand with her own slightly smaller one. "We're friends, no matter what. Not even you snogging Draco Malfoy can change that, you silly."
"We didn't snog," Harry quickly responded, very well aware of the flush spreading across his cheeks. "It was just a... simple kiss. Not even tongue involved."
"And then what?"
Harry shrugged. "I walked away. It was near curfew, after all."
"Someone kissed you and you walked away," Hermione repeated blankly. "And now you've been avoiding Malfoy?"
"I'm not avoiding him," Harry scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm just... busy with my school work."
"Right."
And now she's making me feel guilty.
"Fine," he grunted out, huffing. "I'll go see him this evening, okay?"
"Excellent news, Harry," she beamed, smiling brightly. "I knew you were no coward."
And so, after an hour or so, Harry found himself walking down to the dungeons, a herd of butterflies playing tag in his stomach. Hermione had been correct; he had been avoiding the blonde Slytherins. Sure, he had seen him at the Great Hall, flanked by Zabini and Parkinson, and given him a small wave and a smile and exchanged some words, but Harry hadn't visited him in his rooms for a couple of days now. I wonder if he's angry at me because of that. Maybe he won't let me in anymore.
Swallowing his nervousness as he arrived at his destination, he raised his hand and brushed his knuckles against the wooden door, busily ignoring the dirty-mouthed snakes on his right.
It didn't take many seconds for the door to swing open and Harry was met with Draco's pale face. Maybe it was just Harry's imagination, but it seemed that there was an eager glint of happiness flashing in the grey eyes for a short moment.
"Potter," came the expected drawl, a pleased tint colouring it. "You came to see me."
"I did." Harry couldn't help but fidget restlessly under Draco's direct gaze. "Can I come in?"
"Of course. Would you want something to drink?"
Harry stepped into the rooms, regarding Draco with sudden suspicion. "What, you have a personal house elf here to serve you?"
Draco's smirk practically oozed superiority. "I am a Malfoy, shouldn't that be enough?"
Harry snorted. "Whatever. Well, I'll take a coke, if you please."
After a simple snap of fingers, a house elf appeared with a familiar, sharp crack. "What is you wanting, Master Malfoy?"
"A bottle of butterbeer and a," Draco's upper lip curled slightly, "coke for my friend here."
"Right away, sirs!"
The drinks were brought just as Harry flopped down onto the couch, feeling himself relaxing a bit. A glass of fizzing, black liquid was pushed into his hands. "Thanks."
The house elf gave a loud squeak, scurried over to present Draco's drink and disappeared. "You shouldn't thank them, Potter. They get scared very easily."
"You know, I would very much like to debate over that particular subject with you," Harry snorted, "or better yet, get Hermione here to debate with you, but I really don't have the energy to do that. So let us just come to the conclusion that I'm right and you're wrong, just to cut the argument short?"
Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Impressive, Potter, impressive. We'll make a fine Slytherin out of you in the end, mark my words. Speaking of Slytherins, how have things gone with you and the snakes?"
Harry shrugged. They had left him pretty much alone, much to his surprise, not openly spitting fire at him or trying to hex him to death every time the Gryffindors encountered Slytherins. Some were muttering in the shadows, looking suspicious and shooting rather dark looks at him as he passed by, but that was it. Theodore Nott, Harry had noticed, seemed to be the most cross one of them. He regarded Harry through hooded eyes, measuring him up with calculative carefulness like he was a prey to take out.
Harry, though, had answered his looks with scorn and despise rather than fear the slightly older Slytherin had probably expected. I'm not scared of that little snake. "They're not really bothering me much, just glaring at me a bit. Which, I suppose, is nothing new. Though before, you were the one usually doing the glaring."
"Disappointed?" Draco's lips curled into a lazy smirk. "Would you want me to, ah, bother you?"
Harry frowned, looking at the blonde with narrowed eyes. "Are you trying to hit on me again or something?"
Draco's own eyes widened innocently. "Of course not, Potter. We're better off friends. That is what you said, right?"
Now frowning at the sudden, painful twist in his heart at those words, Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah." Clearing his throat, he decided to change the dangerous subject. "So, how have you been with your fellow Slytherins?"
"I think I may have regained some pieces of the crown of the Slytherin Prince. The younger Slytherins follow me no matter what I do, so nothing to worry about that." Draco shrugged. "The older students could pose a small problem, however."
"Oh?"
"Students from fifth year and above have been much influenced by Dark families. Some of them don't welcome a betrayal of my kind with open arms."
"You mean people like Nott?" Harry couldn't help but asking. Instantly, Draco's gaze grew razor sharp and his lips were pursed into a thin line.
"Yes," he murmured in a low tone, watching Harry with cool, shrewd eyes. "Have you had a problem with him?"
"Not really, no. Well, he keeps looking at me oddly," Harry admitted, shrugging, "but that's about it. No death threats, no arsenic in my morning pumpkin juice."
Draco scowled. "Don't joke about this, Potter, take it seriously for once. And besides, wouldn't they rather use Basilisk venom that that... what was it, arsenic?"
"They could. How should I know how their minds work? A lion can never understand a snake."
Somehow, that didn't sound so funny like Harry had intended. Draco's eyes narrowed even further.
"Please, Potter, listen to me. Don't get involved with the likes of Nott, okay?"
Harry was about to remark something about the Slytherin's sudden protectiveness, but Draco's soft, sincere tone stopped him. He really is worried about me, isn't he? He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I promise I won't get myself locked into a cupboard alone with Nott."
Draco's lips twitched. "That's good to hear."
"Look, Malfoy," Harry started, grimacing a little. "I know you're... concerned about my well-being and so on, but really, I can take care of myself. I appreciate your efforts, though, but I don't really move alone in the castle anymore. I have constant shadows; one of them has freckles, one keeps carrying a load of books with her."
That was true enough. Hermione and Ron didn't leave him alone that much, not to mention allow him wander around the vast castle at night. Harry knew they only meant well and that they were just worried about him, but at times, it got a bit on Harry's nerves. I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself.
"Good to know Granger and Weasley are good for something," Draco drawled, his voice lacking the usual poisonous edge though. He seemed visibly less worried, tense shoulders relaxing a bit. "I was going to make Snape assign a Ministry guard for you."
Blinking in bewilderment, Harry stared at Draco. "A Ministry guard? Please tell me you were just kidding, Malfoy. Don't you know how incompetent they are?" Then he frowned. "Furthermore, why would you go to Snape of all people to assign my protection? You've really lost it, honestly."
Draco cocked one perfectly pale eyebrow. "You don't know?"
"Know what?" Harry demanded impatiently, resisting the ridiculously girly urge to put his hands on his hips. "What am I supposed to know?"
"At Hogwarts, Snape is, as a matter of fact, practically in charge of your protection," Draco told him rather flippantly. "He told me yesterday when I went to meet him for afternoon tea. He has actually warded your dorm room with the most powerful protective layers a wizard possibly could within the boundaries of light magic. I can't believe you haven't noticed that he watches over you when you're at the Great Hall or anywhere he can see you – he does that, in addition to monitoring harmful magic happening in your vicinity."
Harry was positively flummoxed. "Snape does that? Cor, I had no idea. Wait – do people think I need protection? From what?"
"Potter, you can't be that unintelligent," Draco snorted, shaking his head. "You just escaped from the clutches of your enemy, dragging me along with you. Lots of people, especially Slytherins, think I changed sides just because of you. I bet many Dark families have given an order to hunt you down with even more enthusiastic effort, for sullying a perfect," Draco sneered disdainfully, "Death Eater in-training. So don't give me the 'what, I need protection?' crap."
Great. Just what I need, really. People with more reasons to see me dead on the ground. Just bloody brilliant. "I get it, okay? I get it. And look, I promise I won't get hurt, alright?"
"You can't promise that, Potter, and you know it," Draco placidly murmured, a humourless smile on his lips. "Don't make shallow promises."
The hard lump was back in Harry's throat. Draco's tone was so solemn, hollow even. The blonde didn't look at Harry, his eyes were firmly glued to the wall next to Harry's head. "Malfoy... I'll try not the get hurt. Is that better? I'll do my best to avoid risking my health and life, okay?"
"I guess that's better than nothing, right?" Draco smiled almost an invisible smile, barely there. "I'll hold you to it."
"Don't worry, I don't have a death wish or anything," Harry said softly, smiling back. This is weird. But... I like it when Malfoy behaves like a normal human being. "I'm not planning on going anywhere in the nearby future. Not before I take down someone else with me, at least."
Draco looked at him sharply, but didn't comment, pursing his lips tighter together instead.
"Have you heard of your parents?" Harry ventured cautiously after a short moment of silence. "More letters?"
If Draco noticed the blunt way Harry changed the subject, he didn't show it. "I think mother is coming to visit Hogwarts next week. She fire-called the Headmaster this morning."
"Really?" Harry gave a small grin, feeling a little surprised. "That's great, isn't it?"
Draco inclined his head slightly. "It is. It's going to be good to see her again, I haven't seen her for months. And maybe she has some news concerning father, at least I hope so."
"I'm sure she does," Harry mused, nodding. "Is she going to stay at the castle for a longer time?"
"A few days, yes. The guest rooms will be prepared for her, I reckon."
After that, the conversation flowed naturally and comfortably and Harry found himself relaxing and enjoying Draco's witty, un-hovering company. I really needed this, I must thank Hermione later. She's just too intelligent for her own good. Like always.
A brisk knock on the door interrupted Draco's very entertaining story involving hyper first-year Slytherins and cans of honey a moment later. The elegant words Severus Orion Snape appeared onto the wall above the door, and Harry groaned, quickly glancing at the clock. "Five minutes past curfew. Bloody hell!"
Draco snickered, languidly stretching his limbs before getting up and padding over to the door. Despite Harry's protests, he swung it open, thus revealing the looming and scowling figure of Professor Snape in the corridor.
"Mr. Potter," Snape barked crisply, black eyes flickering with fire. "Have you no idea what the time is? Or are you really incompetent enough not to have the knowledge of how to check the time?"
"I'm sorry, profess-" Harry began, wincing, but it was Draco who came to his unexpected rescue.
"I'm afraid it was my fault, professor," the blonde put in smoothly, flashing a brilliant smile. "Potter was about to leave half an hour ago, but I insisted he stay a while longer to keep me company."
Harry coughed meekly as Snape turned suspicious, narrowing eyes towards him. "Is that so, Mr. Malfoy?"
Despite not hearing his own name, Harry knew it was his cue to answer. "Er... Why yes, it is. Sir. Just as Malfoy told."
"I see." Clearly, Snape saw straight through the bluff but didn't really know how to proceed. "Still, twenty points from Gryffindor. You have avoided detention, Mr. Potter, but just barely. The next time, nevertheless, you will have a week of detention with me. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir. It won't happen again."
"I surely hope so." Snape looked at him sternly, nostrils flaring. "Now, I shall escort you back to the Gryffindor Tower where you belong. Come along, I haven't got all night."
A tad bemused, Harry bid a quick goodbye to Draco and followed Snape out of the door. He had some troubles keeping up with the taller man's long strides, but managed not to fall behind as they walked across the castle towards the Tower.
"Professor Snape?" Harry hesitantly asked while they were ascending one of the staircases. "How did you know where I was?"
Snape spared a cursory glance at him. "I simply asked Ms. Granger."
"But how did you know I wasn't in the Tower by curfew? Sir?"
The cursory glance turned into an irritated glare. "So full of questions, are you, Mr. Potter? Very well, I will humour you this time. I, with the Headmaster's full approval, have cast some subtle charms and wards that have keyed you into the wards of this castle. As a caster of these particular charms, I can tell if you have or have not entered or left a certain area of this school."
"What?" Harry felt his eyes grow big. So not fair. "You keep monitoring my movements?"
Snape sneered slightly. "Just for your own safety, Mr. Potter, be sure to remember that. It is my job to protect the students of this school -"
"I bet you don't have some tracking spells on every student!" Harry sputtered, momentarily forgetting his place. "That's – that's -"
"-completely beneficial and sensible." Snape's eyes flashed in a dangerous way that told Harry he really should shut his mouth. "You, Mr. Potter, are in countless lists of people who are in mortal danger every day that passes, simply because you exist. On the other hand, there are also countless of people who are willing to do otherwise. Protect you. I suggest you accept both of those facts and try to get along with them."
Harry glared at him sullenly, but there was nothing to say anymore. "Fine," he glumly muttered, sticking his hands into his pockets. At Snape's warning curling of lip, he reluctantly added, "Sir."
Snape rewarded him with a scornful sneer. "Good. Now, here we are. Get in and stay in, for Merlin's sake. Remember, I know immediately if even your toe steps out of the Tower."
"Yes, sir," Harry ground out dourly, muttering the required password and climbing through the portrait hole without glancing at Snape. Monitoring my every move... My life just can't get any better. Refusing to acknowledge the fact that having someone constantly observing your current location could keep him safe, he cursed Snape into deepest hells he could possibly imagine.
"Why the long face, mate?"
Of course, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him in the common room, watching him with concern. Most of the older students were there, as well, chatting animatedly by the roaring fireplaces or scribbling away on parchments in a hurry, but after a few waves and quick 'hello's, they left Harry be.
"Didn't you enjoy spending time with Malfoy?" Hermione asked as Harry flopped down on the sofa next to Ron, her brown eyes confused. At least she's not giving me a lecture of obeying the curfew.
Harry shook his head. Spending time with Draco had been nice, very nice. "Oh, it's not about that. It's just that Snape came to his rooms, too, just after curfew."
"Oh." Hermione grimaced, patting Harry's knee compassionately. "Did he give you detention?"
"No, actually. He just deducted some points, that's all."
"Are you kidding?" Ron cried out with surprise, unwittingly attracting the attention of the other students sitting nearby. "Has the batty git sniffed too many cauldron fumes lately?" he continued, lowering his tone.
Harry grinned at the image of Snape sniffing fumes in his private lab. "Well, I think he was going to give me detention but then Malfoy stepped in and said it was his fault, not mine."
Ron's eyes nearly budged out. "Are you pulling my leg or something, mate?"
"Don't be such a daft," Hermione admonished, swatting Ron across the back of his head. "Malfoy has been quite well-behaved these days, in case you haven't noticed. He even greets us politely."
Ron muttered something under his breath and crossed his arms defiantly, a frown marring his face, but didn't press the issue. I don't think Ron and Malfoy are going to be best buddies any time soon. Probably never. Harry suppressed a sigh. I hope the time I have to choose between those two never comes. Ron was his brother whom he loved dearly, but Harry wasn't sure if he could give up Draco just because Ron didn't like the Slytherin. It wouldn't be fair to anyone.
"So, did I miss anything while I was visiting Malfoy?" Harry questioned calmly, leaning back against the squishy sofa. "How did your classes go today?"
And as his friends began telling him about their days, Ron bitterly complaining about how McGonagall had given him the evil eye and detention just because he had managed to transfigure the professor's desk into a tiny piglet and Hermione proudly mentioning how she had gotten extra points from Vector because of her outstanding essay, Harry felt himself unwinding completely. The familiarity of it all, the soothing voices of his friends - it made him feel like he was warm and safe and that nothing could touch him. No matter how Snape had told him otherwise.
The trio didn't leave the common room until they were pretty much the last ones left. Saying sleepy good nights to Hermione, Harry and Ron trod up the stairs to their darkened and silent dormitory. Within minutes, both boys had changed into their pyjamas and collapsed into their respective beds.
"Night, Harry," came Ron's quiet murmur, sounding like it was muffled by a pillow.
Harry yawned, stretching under his heavy blankets. "Night."
He waited a couple of minutes until he could hear Ron's soft snores before drifting to easy sleep himself, burrowing deeper into his fluffy pillow.
Screams.
Blood.
Thick, crimson liquid with the horrible, coppery stench that made you want to gag.
It was everywhere, smearing the dirty floor and leaving glistering streaks on the walls. The smell that hung heavily in the air was overwhelming.
A man in his mid-thirties was writhing on the floor, harsh screams leaving his throat as he struggled against the pain covering him up like a suffocating blanket. There was another body just behind him, lifelessly slumped against the bloody wall.
Suddenly, the screaming man stopped his desperate trashing and just lay there limply, twitching and gasping for breath. His bloodshot eyes were rolling in his head, half-mad from the torture. He didn't seem to see the corpse behind him as he leaned against it, trying to drag his uncontrollably shivering body away.
"You have done well, Lucius", hissed a low, cold voice from somewhere. A tall, slim figure with black robes bowed their head, locks of silvery hair falling into view.
"Thank you, my Lord," the robed man whispered, his voice rough but emotionless. "I do not deserve your graciousness, my Lord."
"You are correct, Lucius. You have to work very hard to gain my trust again."
"I know, my Lord. I am eternally grateful for giving me another chance to prove my worthiness."
"And you should be. It is only the illustrious name of Malfoy that has kept you alive till this day. I am severely disappointed in you and your offspring, but men from your family generally are worth of keeping alive."
The blond man bowed lower, his face hidden behind the pale mask he wore.
"Thank you, my Lord, for your kind words."
"However, Lucius... You didn't kill that man. That, my servant, is a grave error. Crucio."
Different screams filled the air as the man fell hard onto his knees, hands clutching his head as if it was threatening to explode. The bloody walls of the small room absorbed his coarse screams of pure agony, forcing him to suffer his pain alone, and alone only.
Harry woke up, clutching his head very much like the man he had seen had done and drawing in a startled intake of cool air. He was feeling rather disoriented for a moment, his head spinning quick, dizzying circles, before he realized it had been just a nightmare.
But I could feel the pain.
The pain of the tall, blonde man as Voldemort had cast a merciless Crucio at him.
What the hell is going on?
Swiping away the cold sweat from his clammy forehead, Harry reached a slightly trembling hand and peeked a look through the crack of his bed's curtains. Luckily enough, everyone were still fast asleep, snoring or muttering quietly, caught up in their – obviously more pleasant – dreams. Harry never wanted to wake anyone up because of his nightmares, it felt so awkward and uncomfortable for even Ron to come and sit by him and ask what was wrong. Because Ron did that, every time he was awakened by Harry's muffled screams.
But he hadn't had a nightmare for ages. And he had never experienced such direct pain before in his dreams like that – like Voldemort had cast the curse at him. Harry had felt the full blown of the torture through the blonde fellow, who evidently was a Death Eater -
Wait a minute.
Harry frowned. I recognize the Death Eater. His voice... his hair. Blond, sleek hair. He had seen it before, countless times.
Lucius Malfoy.
Why am I having dreams about Lucius Malfoy?
Harry was utterly perplexed, blinking in the darkness. He didn't think he had never had a dream with a Lucius Malfoy in it. It was beyond weirdness.
And the dream had felt so real. Harry shivered, goose bumps breaking all over skin, and drew his blankets closer.
He didn't sleep anymore that night.
From his table, Draco watched Harry stumble into the Great Hall in the morning. His first thought was that the Gryffindor looked like shit; his hair abnormally shaggy, his face ghastly pale and somewhat bloodshot eyes darting from one side to another.
Granger and Weasley were right behind him, sharing worried glances but never taking any action. Perhaps they had already asked what was wrong and received a polite 'piss off' as an answer. That would be very Harry-ish. Stubborn till death.
Draco sighed, sipping his perfectly chilled pumpkin juice as he watched Harry discreetly above the rim of his glass. He had really enjoyed the private time with Harry last night, after the uncomfortable atmosphere in the beginning – especially since he hadn't quite talked with Harry for days. I bet he was avoiding me because of the kiss. Such a silly little Gryffindor.
"Draco, are you – stalking Potter with your eyes?"
Quickly ripping his gaze away to direct an icy glare at Blaise, Draco said nonchalantly, "Don't be ridiculous, Blaise. Of course not."
"He sure looks exhausted, though," Pansy lightly remarked from the other side of him with a musing tone. Draco's gaze automatically swivelled back to the Gryffindor table and he frowned, trying to keep his voice not overly concerned.
"You think so, too?"
Pansy waved her hand casually. "Don't you worry your head off, Draco. He's surrounded by Gryffindors, they will drag him off to Pomfrey should he need it."
Yes, they're Gryffindors – which means they won't pester him enough to get him to tell what's wrong. But Draco didn't say that out loud, he merely sighed and gulped down the rest of his juice. "You're probably right, Pans."
She smiled sweetly, blowing an innocent kiss at him. "I always am."
Blaise snorted into his cup of hot chocolate, muttering something that remotely sounded similar to "yeah, right" low enough only for Draco to hear. The blonde raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He idly wondered if he should introduce Pansy to Granger so that they could practice the I-am-always-right-so-deal-with-it-attitude they seemed to share.
That would be amusing.
The trio of Slytherins and Gryffindors already had called a truce, meaning there were no open insults and hostile behaviour, just courteous demeanour, but that didn't exactly mean that Granger and Pansy would be the bestest of friends. They do have lots in common, though.
The rest of the lions had taken in the cease-fire with surprising ease. Maybe it had something to do with Pansy and Blaise's drastic declarations, but the Gryffindors seemed to think that they were not after Harry's blood. However, they didn't quite welcome them with completely open arms. Especially the older lions' gazes were wary in various degrees as they watched Harry and his friends interacting with the Slytherins, even if it was just a brief hello at the doorway. Most likely, they were just making sure that Draco wouldn't suddenly show his true colours and attack their helpless beacon of light.
Helpless, my arse. Draco shook his head. If there was something that Harry was not, it was helpless. That boy may be all uneducated and muggle-ish, but he sure knows how to defend himself. Draco was certain that if given proper training and such, there was nothing that stood between Harry and the victory he was so desperately after. Harry wouldn't be helpless even in chains and gagged, of that Draco was certain, as well.
It was funny how Draco's opinions had changed.
Just mere months ago, he had thought that Harry was annoying as hell and weak as a kitten. Now that I've got to know him, the real boy beneath the icon... The normal wizard under all that shining surface and artificial smiles. There was no mistaking it. Harry had raw power that practically radiated from him like hot waves. He may not look like it – scrawny little thing, isn't he? - but he has it.
Realizing he was just seconds away from gazing at Harry again, Draco snapped out of his horribly soft and even syrupy thoughts. Merlin. This is so not my day.
"We're off to class now, Draco," Blaise's voice broke through the invisible bubble Draco had created. "We have Snape first thing in the morning, so we better not be late."
"Have fun with your studies with Granger," Pansy chimed in, hiding a giddy grin behind her hand. Before Draco could muster a frosty glare at her, she and Blaise quickly strode away, joining the mass of students lining out of the Great Hall. Draco thought he saw a brief glimpse of unruly black hair and green eyes in the crowd before they disappeared.
After a few days, the two weeks of holiday the boys had was quickly drawing to a close.
I wouldn't call it a holiday, though, Draco mused to himself, straightening his tie as he stood in front of a full-view mirror, dressed in his familiar school robes, what with the homework Granger assigned.
But thanks to Granger and her persistence, however, Draco knew neither he nor Harry would fall behind in classes. She had rigorously made them study with frightening pace and vigour, making absolutely sure they learned everything they possibly could. Thus, Draco believed even Snape would be satisfied with their knowledge of every subject they took. Maybe Granger should become a professor or something. She certainly has the brains for it.
Quietly humming to himself, Draco retrieved his bag from his bedroom and left to his first lesson of the day. Double Potions, of course. Perfect.
He arrived early – the walk to the classroom was quite short from his rooms -, hence, there was no-one milling around in the corridors yet. The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, though, so he shrugged and slipped into the empty, quiet room. Finding his favourite place from the third row, he dropped his bag onto the chilly stone floor and sat down, running a hand against the smooth surface of the desk. It felt pleasantly familiar.
"Draco."
Startled, the Slytherin jumped in his seat and looked up. He had failed to notice Snape sitting behind his own desk at the front of the classroom, obviously in the middle of grading some papers as he still had a quill poised in his hand, the tip resting against a yellowish parchment filled with messy scrawl. Snape quirked an eyebrow.
"Professor," Draco finally said, clearing his throat in slight embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I guess I didn't notice you, sir."
"It's quite alright, Draco." Snape put down the quill. "How does it feel to be back in classes?"
Draco gave an elegant shrug. "It feels good to be back, to be honest. I think I've missed this."
"Are you confident you will not fall behind?"
"Granger has been a good teacher," Draco admitted grudgingly, digging around his bag to find the appropriate books for Potions. "She has made sure I won't fail anything, sir, don't worry."
There was a gleam of amusement in Snape's eyes as he inclined his head. "Very well. How have you been otherwise? Have the other students given you any trouble?"
"No problems whatsoever, professor. Some older students just act a little wary towards me, but that was expected. The only thing I've been worrying over is the matter of my clothes, sir." Draco looked at Snape hopefully. "I really want to go shopping soon."
Snape let out a quiet chuckle, a slight smirk curling his lips. "I suppose we can arrange a visit to Diagon Alley next week if you wish."
Draco gasped in excitement. "Really? I would love to, sir. And I was wondering if Potter could tag along, too?"
"Potter?" Snape's eyebrows rose. "I've gathered that he still has his clothes."
"Well, yeah." Draco's nose scrunched up. "But have you seen the rags he wears, sir? They're despicable, just utterly despicable."
"Are you thinking of giving Mr. Potter a full make-over?" Snape's tone was definitely amused.
"It wouldn't do any harm, would it?" Draco asked slyly, his thoughts already racing ahead to wonder what kind of clothes he should make Harry use. Tight-fitting jeans would be good start, not to mention proper non-sweater shirts.
"If Mr. Potter is willing to join us, I do not think there is no reason why he shouldn't come," Snape promised. Somehow, Draco felt as if Snape had emphasized the word willing.
"Thank you, professor."
They chatted for a few minutes until students finally began to skulk in, the small gangs of Gryffindors and Slytherins casting either curious or suspicious glances at Draco before taking their seats. Harry came in after his friends, his feet dragging against the floor in a tired manner as he slumped down next to Weasley. Despite his obvious fatigue, he still send a friendly smile at Draco, waving his hand a little.
Draco smiled back shortly, again wondering what the hell was wrong with the Gryffindor. He had been looking even more and more tired every passing day, his face all drawn and haggard. When Draco had, on numerous occasions, demanded to know if Harry was sick or something, all Harry had said that he just hadn't been sleeping that well. I guess I'm nervous to start classes again, he had nonchalantly claimed, Hermione will most definitely gut me if I fail any of my classes.
Even Snape seemed worried as his eyes swept over the herd of students, lingering on Harry for a moment. Draco frowned.
"Good morning, class," Snape started, his voice no more than a silky whisper. Nevertheless, it still quietened the class completely in a second. "Today, you will be doing a few healing potions Madame Pomfrey has requested. I will divide you into pairs and you will do a potion that I assign to you."
Not so surprisingly, Draco ended up with Harry as his partner. The Gryffindor shuffled over to the seat next to Draco, offering a crooked smile in greeting. "With a Potions genius as my partner. now I can't mess up anything."
"If you do mess up my potion," Draco drawled, "I will personally throw you into the lake to play tag with the merpeople."
Harry chuckled. "I bet. Now, what potion are we making?"
As they started to work on the Blood Replenishing Potion, Draco couldn't help but to notice how Harry's hands trembled ever so slightly or how he pinched his face looked when he lifted the heavy cauldron onto the table. He also noticed the way Weasley and Granger send furtive, worried glances at Harry from their seats.
"Potter," he said quietly after Harry nearly dropped the jar of herbs he was holding. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, Malfoy," came the stubborn reply accompanied by a tired glare. "Just a little tired, that's all."
"You don't look like it."
"I told you, I'm fine," Harry snapped irately, slamming the cork of the jar back with more force than it would have needed. "Would you please stop bugging me about it?"
"No need to bite my head off," Draco said stiffly, narrowing his eyes. "I'm just worried."
Harry sighed, his agitated posture slumping. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."
Draco watched him chop the roots of browallia, the sharp knife going dangerously near Harry's fingers. "Why don't you visit the infirmary, Potter? Pomfrey could give you -"
"Stop, Malfoy," Harry interrupted wearily, "just stop, okay? There is nothing wrong with me."
Draco pursed his lips. "Your hands are trembling, you're all pale and ghastly and you look like you haven't slept for ages. There is something wrong, I know it."
"God, you're even worse than Hermione," Harry muttered, looking sullen and glum. "Just drop it, Malfoy."
"How can you be so ridiculously stubborn -"
"I said drop it, Malfoy!" Harry suddenly snarled, eyes flashing and angry red dots appearing onto his cheeks. A second later, as the whole class fell silent, including Draco, and turned to stare at Harry with wide eyes, he reddened even more.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?" Snape inquired icily, watching Harry through narrowed eyes from where he was hovering over Granger's flawless potion.
"No, sir," Harry bit out, avoiding everybody's astonished gazes and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "No problem."
"Then I suggest you will save your infantile outbursts outside the classroom, Mr. Potter."
"Yes, professor."
Everyone were still gawking at Harry, who flushed a deeper shade of red, intensively staring at the table as if it held all the answers he wanted.
"Back to work, all of you" Snape barked, glaring at the students fiercely until they hesitatingly returned to their respective potions. "That means you as well, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco blinked, realizing he had been staring at Harry for a long moment now.
Harry had never yelled at him like that since their stint in the cage. Come to think of it, he never was so vehement even when we fought.
Harry kept on staring at the table, hands clenched into fists in his lap. Obviously, he wasn't about to apologize anytime soon. Draco huffed, feeling annoyed and just a little bit hurt. What ever is wrong with Harry, I really don't care anymore.
The rest of the class was spent in subdued silence, and as soon as the bell rang, Harry threw everything he had into his bag and left without a backwards glance, leaving Granger and Weasley behind.
Draco forced himself not to care.
Bloody Malfoy, making me lose my temper like that in the middle of the class. Now everyone thinks I've lost the last screw.
Harry fumed as he half-ran along the corridor in the dungeons, hell-bent on getting to the Tower before Hermione or Ron would reach him. He didn't feel like facing them just right now.
Part of him was furious at Draco for pressing the issue, but a growing part of him felt burning guilt for snapping at the Slytherin just because he was worried. I guess he is worried for a reason.
The realistic nightmares had not stopped. Every time Harry closed his eyes, he saw some bloody, painful scene dancing in front of his eyes, making him feel the torture. And every one of the dreams involved Lucius Malfoy. Most times, Harry was watching the view through Lucius' eyes, seeing what he did, feeling what he did. Torturing and killing Muggles and wizards was the most common nightmare, but Harry had also had faint flashes of a dark manor, filled with despair and hollowness.
Harry was afraid to go to sleep by now, afraid of what he was going to see. He tried staying awake as much as he possibly could, hugging his pillow in the darkness the closed curtains of his bed provided, but sometimes he drifted to sleep unwillingly, desperate for some rest.
It was lucky that he was good at silencing charms.
And how could he tell about this to Draco? How could he tell that he was having real-like nightmares of his father?
They will go away soon. They have to.
A wave of utter exhaustion suddenly shook through Harry's weakened body, making him clutch the nearest wall for support. He gasped for breath, feeling so horribly light-headed it seemed as if he was floating in the air.
"Harry Potter?"
A figure appeared into Harry's rapidly narrowing sight - a tall woman with silky, long blond hair that flowed over her slight shoulders like a beautiful waterfall. The last thing that Harry saw was before succumbing under the darkness was her widened, silvery eyes so very familiar to him.
Narcissa Malfoy had finally arrived to visit her only son.
