::
Draco awoke to the feeling of someone moving around the bed he was sleeping in and sitting up. Considering he had never slept with someone in his bed, it was a rather strange thing to wake up to. He sat up with a frown, hair slightly in his eyes as he looked around before his frown deepened. "Harry?"
A bit of movement showed that Harry was sitting curled up on the edge of the bed, gaze on the window as he watched the sun rise over the top of the Forbidden Forest. Bloody Gryffindors did have a good view, Draco would give them that. "Hm?"
"I'll just... I'll go." Draco stood up beside Harry's bed and gave him another look. The child looked completely peaceful and at ease, face relaxed and the usual coolness and bitterness gone from his eyes.
"You don't have to." The words were soft, voice slightly rough from hours of sleep. "It was nice to know I wasn't alone, last night."
Draco watched him for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't think so. Are you going to be alright?" The younger gave an absent nod, gaze not straying from the window too much. It was... It was actually rather early, even for it being a day for a Quidditch match.
"I just wake up early, sometimes." A fleeting, warm smile directed at him. "I'll be fine, I promise." Draco looked him over before smiling back at him and nodding.
"Alright. I'm gonna catch some more sleep." Which he desperately needed, if he had to deal with today's Quidditch match. Collapsing on his bed, he had to resist the urge to flinch at how cold it was. He supposed that was what happened when you slept all night in a different bed.
"Night, Draco." A glance showed Harry was looking back out the window, looking utterly calm and serene.
"Mm, morning," the blond said quietly as he pulled the blankets around himself. He found it much harder to fall asleep than he had, last night. Really, it was a bit ridiculous. It wasn't like sleeping in Harry's bed made that big of a difference with his sleeping. He was probably just too caught up in his thoughts on today's game.
It was with a sigh that a couple hours later, Draco got out of bed, hardly having gotten any sleep. A few others were already awake judging by the empty beds, although Ron was still snoring in his own bed, and Harry was viciously editing one of his essays. It didn't look to be going too well. Draco watched him for a few moments before sighing. "Harry, would you like help?"
There was a pause in the scribbling, Harry glancing up at him with wide green eyes that took his breath for a few moments, "I would not be against help." Draco's eyes widened before he started smiling fondly.
"Alright. We can work on it over breakfast." He wasn't sure if Harry knew how adorable he was. He probably didn't.
"Sounds good," Harry grinned, getting out of bed and tucking his things away in his bag. He looked to already be dressed, and most likely had been for a while. "What time does the match start?"
"All Hogwarts Quidditch matches start at eleven," Draco said as he nudged Harry along. The child didn't put up much of a fuss, only glancing over to Ron. Hm, apparently he could sleep through anything, since he was half off the bed.
"Should we, ah, wake him? Or shove him off? I'm tempted for the second one, I'm not gonna lie."
"Do whatever you think necessary," Draco hummed quietly, shrugging and waiting by the door. Harry probably wouldn't do anything too badly, he was a- Oh. Ron was in the floor now, and looking quite disgruntled. Harry, meanwhile, was looking as pleased as Mrs. Norris might after catching a rule-breaking student. Draco couldn't help a quiet laugh, holding a hand to his mouth. "I didn't mean anything like that!" Though it was pretty funny, he had to admit. Especially seeing as Ron was decidedly not a morning person.
"You should have been more specific," Harry beamed, dropping the blanket over Ron and then heading for the door. "Right, then. Breakfast?"
"Breakfast sounds great," Draco said, still giggling. Really, this kid was absolutely adorable.
"So, any thoughts as to how the first match is going to go today?" The two were heading down the stairs and through the common room, a few people calling out greetings and good luck for the game. "You don't think I'll fall off my broom, do you?" Draco looked Harry over for a moment before shrugging.
"No idea." Right, he should be careful about giving any 'hints' or revealing future information. Harry may have only been eleven, but he was rather smart for his age - at least with things like this.
"Brilliant. Well, if I do, at least we have you on reserve," Harry sighed, digging a book out of his bag. "Also, what does this even mean? What does it matter if you don't cut the porcupine quills before using them?"
"They take longer to dissolve and the potion comes out lumpy and thick and not at all right," Draco huffed, scoffing quietly.
"I'm officially trusting you more than Hermione when it comes to Potions. You'll keep me from failing." Well. He wasn't wrong.
"I know I will. What explanation did she give you, then?" Flipping through his book, Harry narrowed his eyes for a moment, looking to be searching for something.
"The exact textbook definition, which is 'it is more desired to have your quills chopped beforehand'. And then it was 'honestly, Harry, did you even read the chapter' and things like that."
"That's Granger, for you. I'm sure she...means well." Huh. When had he ever said that about Hermione? It did make sense, though. Hermione had always followed the textbooks, and never really experimented with any new results.
"She does, she just takes the textbooks as gospel," Harry laughed, putting the book away and glancing out some of the windows they passed. "Looks like it's good weather."
"It is nice out. Maybe we should study outside," Draco hummed as he watched out the window with a smile.
"Only if we survive our first match." A motion caught Draco's eye, the older watching as Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked to be caught up in his thoughts.
Draco smiled and bumped Harry with his hip. "You'll do fine. Youngest seeker in a century, remember?" Laughing, Harry gave a small bump back, looking much better.
"That includes you too, you know. And yeah.. Yeah, I mean, we've trained like crazy. Plus all the night flights made me even better! I'll do great- And hey, if I do fall off my broom, I'm going to go down trying to catch that snitch!" This kid was utterly adorable.
"You are younger than me, you know. So you still hold the title," Draco smiled, head tilting slightly. "Good. I'm glad you feel ready."
"Not sure if I'm totally ready, but I'm better than I was this morning," Harry grinned, scanning over the Gryffindor table and heading for a rather empty section near the end. "Wait- I'm seriously younger than you? We're the same age."
"I was born in June," he said with a shrug. So technically he wasn't really lying, just leaving out a few key pieces of information. Hey, he was still a Slytherin.
"So not that much older than me," Harry nodded, fixing their usual cups of tea. "Also, if I end up in the hospital wing, make sure Ron weeps over my body."
"I'll be sure to do so." Draco watched Harry for a moment before smiling and picking up his cup once it was handed over to him. This was nice. He could stand to have more mornings like this one.
"Morning, Ron," Harry grinned, watching as Ron dragged himself to the table and started pulling over a plate of whatever was closest. "Sleep well?"
"Shu' up, you git," Ron whined, slumping into his seat. "I wasn't gonna be up for another hour."
"Then you would have been late for our first Quidditch match," Harry pointed out, sliding the scrambled eggs away from Ron and setting them near Draco. "I was just helping."
Ron whined louder as Draco nodded to Harry gratefully. "'S cause you're always hanging around the snake. You weren't this bad, before!"
"I was, just better at hiding it." Hm, that bitter note creeped into Harry's voice rather often. "What do you think of Gryffindor's chances today, then?"
"I think our chances are alright. Slytherin is pretty good, though," Draco hummed, glancing over to the Slytherin table. Catching Pansy's eye, he gave a weak smile. Bloody hell, he missed them.
Pansy gave a smile back before gesturing to where the others seemed to be talking about Quidditch. She then rolled her eyes heavily and made a gagging motion. Good ole' Pansy, hating Quidditch with every fiber of her being. "You really miss them, don't you?"
Draco was startled out of his thoughts, ready to deny everything as he stared at Harry before he finally said, "Yeah. We've been friends since we were toddlers." Their parents had been quick to set them up on 'play dates.'
"And then because you got sorted into Gryffindor, you don't get to spend time with them any more," Harry frowned, glancing over to the Slytherin table himself. "At least they're still your friends. Remember our first flying lesson?"
"Not really, no." He'd done his best to block it out. And what could Harry mean, them still being friends? You can't be friends with someone you never speak to.
"They were still talking and laughing with you, and Pansy was saying how I'd be best to not challenge you because you always win." A small, gentle nudge to his side, Harry smiling at him. "Maybe try to talk with them, sometime? They probably miss you."
"...They look fine," Draco finally muttered, shaking his head. When would he have a chance to talk to them? He couldn't even tell them everything.
"Just... Try if you can. Now, pass me some eggs. If this is going to be my last meal, I want it to be a good one."
"It's not going to be your last meal," Draco said with a roll of his eyes and a smile. He passed a few eggs over anyways, smile a bit more fond. Mornings like this... Maybe Gryffindor wouldn't be so bad, in the end.
Soon enough, Oliver Wood was coming over to get them. "Harry. Draco. Come on, mates."
Draco blinked, but nodded and stood. "Alright. Harry, come on." Looking as if the reality of his first game was really sinking in, Harry nodded hesitantly and stood up to follow after them. Draco smiled and slipped his hand into Harry's. That was something plenty of friends did, after all, and Harry looked like he needed support.
Indeed, although Harry looked rather startled and surprised at the action, he gave a small smile back to Draco and bumped their hips together. "Right. Time to win for Gryffindor, then."
"Right. For Slytherin." Draco nodded and grinned at Harry. Although Harry did his best to 'glare', it wasn't hard to spot the laught the child was holding back.
"You're horrible. If Slytherin wins, now, it'll be all your fault."
"I will gladly take credit for that," Draco said with a laugh of his own, releasing Harry's hand to throw an arm around his shoulder. "You'll do great."
Once again Harry looked startled and thrown by the show of affection, slowly relaxing against Draco's side before giving a small smile. "Thanks. Although if I fall, remember to not weep over my body and instead take off right into the game."
Draco teased him, "But that would give Gryffindor better chances!" That got another light shove, a snort heard from one of the Weasley twins up ahead. Draco wasn't sure which one had laughed. "You know you like Slytherin better," the blond hummed, smiling at Harry.
"I mean, I like a Slytherin, not sure if I like the house itself better," Harry mused, perking up a little as they got outside. The child was highly predictable, and Draco was willing to bet his childhood was what made him have such a fondness for the outdoors. Draco smiled and looked around before nudging Harry.
"We've got to go to the locker room. I'm sure Wood has a speech planned out for us." Nodding, Harry followed after him and the rest of the team where everyone was getting suited up. It was still strange to see red instead of green. Draco took a moment to watch everyone and stare. The twins were joking around, and one of the chasers - Angelica? - had an arm wrapped around one of the twins' neck, and was rubbing her fist against his scalp. Strange.
It was so much more... Hm, relaxing, maybe was the word. The tensions were still high for the first game of the season, but they were acting like a group of friends might before they went into a mock game. It was nice. Slytherin it was so serious and drab, Flint threatening them to either win or get locked in one of Snape's potion rooms. Everyone would get dressed quietly, then line up and wait. No one really tried to joke around.
A bump drew him out of his thoughts, Harry raising an amused eyebrow and nudging him towards his locker. "C'mon, better get dressed. Wood's pacing and looking like he's preparing for total defeat." Ah, Wood's behavior was familiar, at least.
"Ah, right." Draco nodded and shrugged. "'S just strange." It was so much lighter. Not just the colors, but the very atmosphere and feelings. It was warmer.
"What is?" Although a good deal of the warmth could probably be contributed to the silly boy struggling with his gloves. Draco smiled and took the gloves from Harry before helping him like one would with a small child.
"Gryffindor." Blinking, and looking a bit startled, Harry gave a slow nod. He then stared at his gloves for a moment before flexing his hand.
"I would have gotten it eventually," Harry pouted, looking rather adorable. Poor thing. Draco had a feeling that Harry had probably never even had help with his clothing, even when he was very little.
"I know. It's just faster, this way. Think you're ready, yet?" Draco watched Harry check himself over before the child was giving him a determined nod.
"As ready as I'm ever gonna be." In the distance, they could hear people starting to head to the stands, talking and laughing loudly.
Draco glanced around before nodding towards Wood. "Looks like he's about to start." The oldest's hair was a wild wreck, and his eyes were shining and bright.
"The speech isn't too bad," one of the twins grinned, the other still being tortured by the Chasers. "We've got it memorized, at this point."
As if one cue, Wood was drawing himself up and taking a breath. "Alright, team, gather around." As he talked, Fred - George? - was behind Wood and miming his words and actions. Meanwhile, George - Fred? - had an arm around a girl on each side and seemed to be muttering.
Harry was trying not to laugh and 'coughing' heavily at the one mimicking Wood, who looked deadly serious and hadn't noticed the Weasley yet. Wood paused and turned around to glare viciously at the twin once he noticed Harry. "George! Enough of your games! We're winning the cup, this year!"
Draco mumbled to Harry, "About time someone said it." Harry's 'cough' got worse for a moment, the child starting to look red in the face a little. Most likely a bit of hysterics due to the nerves.
"At least it makes things a bit lighter," Harry pointed out, shuffling a bit nervously as they heard the call from outside. "Looks like it's time."
"Hey. You'll do great." Draco held his own broom tightly, giving Harry a nod to the stands. "Knock 'em dead."
Taking a breath, Harry drew himself up as they followed after the team, lagging behind a bit as he looked to Draco, "Wish me luck?" Draco nodded and smiled.
"Good luck." Cute kid. Getting a brilliant smile in return, Draco watched as Harry hurried to catch up with the rest of the team, Madame Hooch gathering them around and talking about fair play. Fat chance of that happening with Flint. Draco leaned against the frame of the door, watching them take off into the air. He crossed his arms, and looked around the stands. He caught Crabbe and Goyle's gazes and gave them each a nod.
The two nodded back a bit less hesitant than they had at the beginning of the year, Blaise giving a small smile and Pansy waving like crazy towards him. He gave a grin and waved back at Pansy indulgently. Maybe Harry had been right about talking to them. They were still just kids, and their parents' views seemed so far away when they were at their first year of Hogwarts.
A wave of cheering went up around the Gryffindor stands, letting Draco know that they had scored the first goal - hm. He wondered if he could remember the games well enough to make good bet money... He remembered that the twins made some bet in fourth year to start up their business. Or, at least, from what he recalled... And he was fairly certain they won, as well. He'd have to look into that more, later.
Focusing back on the game, he noticed Harry was following Wood's plan and staying high above the playing field. A large shape showed that Hagrid was standing with Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor stands. Draco looked to the three of them and his smile fell just a bit as he nodded. They were alright, but... They weren't his friends. They were Harry's. Just like Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. They weren't Harry's friends. Sure, Harry may be friendly to them, but they were Draco's friends.
It was going to be a long seven years. Draco would have to be careful to keep everything straight in his head, especially since he was already getting nostalgia - although the fact he was in Gryffindor curbed that greatly.
A sudden roar from the crowd drew his attention to where the Seekers had seen the snitch and Flint had near knocked Harry off his broom to stop him. Draco growled, gripping his broom tightly. How dare he- Flint was a sixth year! He knew as well as anyone else that Harry was a first year! Honestly! A sixteen-year-old going after an eleven-year-old kid!
Ugh, it seemed so much worse from this side, and he was very behind the Gryffindor's outrage. It looked like Harry had just barely stopped himself from falling off his broom. Although now, they'd lost sight of the Snitch. At least there was that. Draco watched Harry as he flew above the game to scout things out from above. He was once again cold and jaded, his eyes following Flint and glinting a deep emerald green.
Draco honestly wouldn't be surprised if Harry got his revenge later. Tsking, Draco paid closer attention, watching Harry nicely dodge a bludger before his broom seemed to...jerk. Draco frowned and hopped on his broom just in case. That wasn't right, brooms didn't act like that. This... Hadn't something like this happened last time? In his time?
The broom movements continued, swishing Harry about and zig-zagging him through the air before rising steadily higher. Draco seemed to be the only one to notice at the moment. Draco looked around the stands helplessly before calling out. "Harry!" If the child answered, Draco didn't hear him over the fact Harry's broom started rolling through the air with him still on it. Draco took his wand out, though he didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to do. Harry was going to die- No. No, just think, just think!
A sudden, wild jerk of the broom and Harry was thrown off, just barely hanging on by one hand. The crowd was gasping in worry at this point, and the twins had flown over and were trying to help Harry onto one of their brooms. Draco flew out onto the field, circling underneath Harry low to the ground just in case. He stuffed his wand back into his boot and watched carefully.
The broom just kept rising higher every time one of the twins tried to help, and like Draco they were now circling below - most likely hoping to catch him if he fell. Which he wouldn't. Draco may not have remembered exactly how this went, but he knew Harry would be fine... Hopefully. Finally, Harry seemed to regain his grip, but when Draco saw him hurtling towards the ground, his heart dropped as fast as Harry was. "Harry!"
He only vaguely noticed Harry had one hand to his mouth, the child just barely slowing down as he neared the ground before tumbling off his broom and hitting the ground in a roll. He seemed to be ready to be sick for a moment before he was coughing up... Coughing up the snitch. Once the announcement was made, Draco flew over to tackle Harry in a hug. "You're not supposed to follow his orders! Your life before the Snitch!"
Laughing brightly, Harry only hugged him back and looked ecstatic. "Did you see that? I didn't think I'd actually stay on! That was incredible- And I even caught the snitch!"
"You idiot! If it's you or the Snitch, it's always you first!" Draco continued to swat and push at Harry. It was rather ineffective, since Harry only kept laughing as the Gryffindors cheered around them, the Slytherins looking disgruntled.
"It's fine, we won and I'm perfectly safe, it's nothing to worry about," Harry beamed, still catching his breath. "I think I'll wait a while before getting back on my broom, though."
"You had bloody better!" Draco pulled him back into another hug. Merlin, that had been terrifying. He did not want a repeat of this.
There was a moment before he felt the hug being returned, Harry's voice softer. "I'm fine... Thanks for worrying."
::
"Are you sure you two weren't just seeing things," Harry asked weakly, Draco having to agree with him wholeheartedly. Really. Snape jinxing the broom? The man may not have been a saint, but he wouldn't try and kill an eleven-year-old.
"I don't think Snape would do it," Draco said firmly. "What's the motive? It's not like he hates Harry."
"But it fits," Hermione pointed out, almost spilling her tea on Harry where she was waving it around so much. "He wasn't blinking, he was making perfect eye contact, and when I set his robes on fire Harry was able to get back on his broom!"
"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," Hagrid muttered, rubbing at his eyes and looking exhausted already.
"No, it..." Draco shook his head, trying to think it through, make a defense. Snape may have been a right git at times, but this wasn't something he would do.
"Why would Snape even want to kill me," Harry was trying to get comfortable in the overly large armchair, looking like he was failing. "I mean, I'm not even doing that bad at Potions anymore. Maybe it was just a freak accident."
Draco watched Harry for a moment before smiling a bit softly. Really, they were all so small. "Even if you've got the evidence, you're still missing a motive."
"He's a crazy git who walks around like an overgrown bat!" Ron threw his hands up, one of them hitting Harry in the back of the head, which earned the redhead a rather dirty look. "Maybe he just hates Harry!"
"Gee, thanks, Ron." Grumbling some choice words under his breath, Harry curled into a corner of the chair and looked to Draco. "I don't believe it. Snape isn't the best, but he's not the type to hurt kids."
"No," Draco said coldly, glaring at Ron as well. "He's not." Huffing, Ron sulked in his seat, Harry rolling his eyes. Although Draco noticed he looked a bit concerned over something.
"So, not a bad game to start of the season, I think. Wood looked pretty happy when we left." Draco shrugged, shaking his head.
"I don't like it." He ran a hand through his hair- Oh. He needed a shower. Ugh. His usual silky soft hair felt greasy and oily.
"Hey, Hagrid, do you, um. Do you know anything about three-headed dogs?" Harry asked hesitantly, wincing a bit when Hagrid near dropped the teapot he was holding.
"I'd take that as a yes," the blond muttered. Honestly, did he have no sense of subtlety? Beside them, Ron had perked up, looking like he had just won something.
"Aha! If Snape isn't as bad as you say, then what about the time he hurt his leg trying to get past that thing-"
"Who told you lot about Fluffy!" ...Fluffy.
"You call that bloody thing Fluffy?" He paused and looked over at Ron with a frown. "He could have been trying to make sure someone else wasn't doing that!"
"Come on, it all adds up!" Ron argued, Harry shaking his head. "What? It does! It fits together perfectly tell me you guys can see that!"
"Alright, alright, that's enough," Hagrid spoke over them, frowning. "Now, Snape is a Hogwarts teacher, he wouldn't try to hurt Harry. As for Fluffy, I don't know how you four found out about 'im, but I don't want you lot looking any further into this. The thing Fluffy is guarding is strictly between Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."
Draco near completely ignored Hagrid, looking to Ron and stamping his foot like a child - which he was, at this point, thankfully. "It does not fit together! He wouldn't do it!"
"You just don't think so because you near hero-worship him! Why do you like him so much, anyways?!"
"Hero-worship?! I'm just the only one willing to see that he's not a git like you make him out to be!"
"He is a git, though! That's the whole point!"
"You act like you know him!"
"You act like you know him!"
"Of course I do! I grew up with him!"
"That just proves he's up to no good!" With that, Ron was getting up and storming out of the hut, yelling incoherent things the whole way.
Draco glared viciously, baring his teeth as his hands curled into fists at his sides. "That bloody-" There was a quiet sigh and mumble from Hermione, the girl standing up and thanking Hagrid for the tea before leaving after Ron. Harry was up next, dragging Draco out the door by his sleeve.
"Bye Hagrid, we'll see you later. Thanks for listening!" Draco grit his teeth to stop himself from speaking, near shaking with fury. How dare he. How dare that bloody Weasley- This was why he didn't belong in Gryffindor! "Wanna talk about it?"
"...Not right now." Bless Merlin for Harry being understanding and not pushing the matter. It was helping so much right now.
"Well, we found out one interesting thing today," Harry spoke, giving Draco a wicked smirk that was more likely to be found in Slytherin. "There's someone named Nicolas Flamel involved in all of this."
Draco paused before smiling weakly. "I suppose so."