A Speck of Hope

by bluemermaid54

After being virtually forced back to Hogwarts for his eighth year, Draco finds it increasingly difficult to deal with the reversed prejudice that plagues the grounds. Harry Potter isn't making things any easier.

29. Chapter 29

"Mr. Potter, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Headmistress McGonagall sat perched in her office chair, drumming her fingers softly on the mahogany desk.

Harry was nervous. Here he was, facing the headmistress, about to admit to her that he had been dishonest.

"Erm . . ." Just breathe, just breathe, you'll be fine, you'll be fine.

"Yes?"

"I, erm, wanted to tell you something. About the Draco Malfoy situation."

Her gaze hardened considerably. "I assure you, Mr. Potter, the situation is being handled."

"I have new information." The words were out before he could stop them. This was it. There was no going back, now.

Professor McGonagall raised a thin eyebrow.

"Mr. Malfoy has confided in me who his attacker was. Once again I hope you have my utmost assurance that the situation is being handled to the best of my ability."

"It's about Dean and Seamus and Justin," Harry said. McGonagall's eyes widened.

"The people he attacked earlier in the year, you mean."

"Not attacked," Harry corrected. He knew this was the right thing to do. It had to be the truth. Malfoy had gotten badly hurt; who knew how long these attacks had been going on? If it was at the beginning of the school year, Harry didn't know how Malfoy had been bottling everything up.

Unless he thought that telling would make it worse . . . Then, of course he'd bottle it up.

"How do you mean, Mr. Potter? Mr. Malfoy provoked and attacked those three students, and the injuries he got in return were out of self-defense."

"I wasn't there," Harry blurted out, heart racing. This was it. He could be in huge, huge trouble for this, and here he was putting himself on the line. For Malfoy.

What a strange world this was turning out to be.

If possible, McGonagall's eyes widened even further. "I beg your pardon?"

"I-I wasn't there. Justin and the others lied. About me being there. I wasn't there. I had nothing to do with the attack. And Malfoy didn't provoke them. They attacked him of their own will."

McGonagall's mouth slowly dropped open.

"They knew his wand was restricted because I told them. And that made them want to hurt him," Harry continued.

McGonagall stood, unblinking, unmoving. It made Harry uncomfortable.

"Erm-"

"And how did you know that his wand was restricted?" she asked, and really, that was the part she was going to focus on?

"He told me in the lavatory, when he found me one on one and wanted me to hex him so that we would be even for saving his life."

McGonagall furrowed her eyebrows. "He wanted you to hex him?"

Harry nodded.

"I see." McGonagall looked super interested in her pen all of a sudden. She twiddled with the utensil for a moment, then looked at Harry. "That's concerning behavior, to say the least, don't you think?"

"That's what I came here to talk to you about, professor. I'm . . . worried."

"As you should be. Thank you for coming forward to me about this. Now, that being said . . ."

Harry gulped.

"I am going to have to punish your friends for lying to me. And you lied by omission, Mr. Potter. I'm assuming they told you of this plan?"

Harry hung his head. "Yes, professor."

McGonagall nodded. "Thought as much. Their punishment is going to be double, for bullying and for lying. They will be taking Mr. Malfoy's spot in punishment, and you will join them for the next three weeks, once a week."

"What will we be doing?" Harry asked.

"Assisting me around the office, or if another professor needs help with anything I'll send you on your way."

"Oh."

"I ought to have the lot of you expelled for putting him through all that. I could have talked to him, I could have made him feel safer here. Instead I pointed the blame at him and made him feel isolated. No wonder he felt like he couldn't tell me who hurt him recently."

"Who did hurt him recently?" Harry asked. He'd been wanting to find out who the motherfucker was so he could give him a piece of his mind. Why, he had no idea. He had absolutely no idea why his protective instincts went into high-gear around Malfoy. What was it about the pointy blonde that triggered this reaction? Did it have to do with Malfoy personally? The thought made Harry shudder. There was simply no way. Or was there?

He could have easily left Malfoy unconscious on those steps; he didn't have to go out of his way and take him to the infirmary. Yet he had. That had to mean something. And what about visiting him in the hospital, not once but twice this year so far? First of all he wanted Malfoy to stop going to the hospital at all, but Harry had to admit to himself that he'd liked going to see the boy. And he had no clue why.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "That, unfortunately, is not any of your business, Mr. Potter. Like I told you, the situation is being handled. I will have to see Mr. Malfoy and inform him that he is relieved of his detention duties effective immediately."

"Why can't you tell me who hit him?" Harry asked. He knew he was being pushy, but McGonagall had always had a soft spot for him.

The woman sighed. "It's confidential, Mr. Potter. That is all I'm going to say on the matter."

Harry nodded. "Alright."

"I'd like you to do me a favor, Mr. Potter."

"Yes?"

"I'd like you to find Mr. Malfoy and send him here. As you can see, I have quite a hefty amount of paperwork to sort through that isn't going to sort itself."

Harry sighed. Find Malfoy? "Alright," he conceded.

Classes were over for the day, so that narrowed down the number of possible places Malfoy could be. His best bet was to probably check the common room and perhaps his bedroom. He was sure Malfoy wouldn't mind Harry knocking by once he knew what it was for.

McGonagall smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. I don't want you to think I'm taking these events lightly. The lying will not be tolerated here. I will seek out Mr. Finch-Fletchley and the others myself to deliver the message. You need only worry about Mr. Malfoy."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Headmistress."

McGonagall nodded politely at him, he said goodbye and exited her office. Now, to find the pointy git.

"You have to get out of bed eventually, Draco."

Pansy ran her hand softly through his blonde hair. He sighed with contentment. He always enjoyed the feeling of her nails along his scalp. They soothed him.

"I do not," he argued lightly, heart not really in it.

"You do for dinner in an hour," she retorted. He shook his head.

"Fuck dinner."

"You can't tell me you're this upset, can you? You can do so much better than Nott."

Draco didn't know how to tell her the real reason he was upset. He was upset because he had been thoroughly manipulated and taken advantage of. Theo had only wanted him for sex; he saw that now. He'd literally asked him to date him immediately following one of their sessions. They'd started off sexually, without allowing their friendship to naturally progress. Draco had given Theo his virginity and Theo had treated it like absolute trash, not even remembering to bother with protection.

"Come back to me," said Pansy. "What were you thinking about just then?"

Draco sighed. "Just how the fucker took complete and utter advantage of me at every chance he could possibly get."

"Oh, Draco . . ."

"Pansy, I gave him my virginity. I expected him to treat me a little bit better. Did I tell you that he asked me to be my boyfriend immediately after we had sex?"

Pansy's eyes widened. "He did?"

"Yes, he did."

"Well, that's . . ."

"Crude? I know."

"I was going to say unexpected, but that, too."

"It just felt all so sudden," said Draco. "Like one minute he . . . loved me, I guess, and then the next he just . . . disappeared."

"Draco Malfoy, you listen to me. That boy did not love you, understand?"

Draco nodded, not quite fully understanding. He didn't understand how quickly you could go from thinking you loved somebody to deciding you didn't.

"He used you, and took advantage of you, like you said. People that love others don't do that."

Draco nodded again, sighing heavily and closing his eyes as Pansy scratched his scalp.

"And we're not going to leave your side," she continued. "We all have your back. Blaise, Greg and I will all protect you. You don't have to worry about seeing him."

"What if he corners me down?" Draco asked, voice coming out small. "I won't- I can't-"

"Hey." Pansy's hand stilled in his hair, which forced him to look at her. "If he corners you down, just remember your guard. Remember your will." She resumed stroking, and he swallowed down a moan it felt so good.

"You always have the upper hand, Draco. Always."

She leaned down, kissed his forehead, and removed her hand from his hair. "I'm going to go grab my stuff from my room, then do you want to go to dinner?"

Draco nodded. He wasn't hungry in the slightest, but he would still try to eat something, just to appease her.

It worked, for she smiled softly. "Great. See you in a minute." She hopped up and bounced out of the room.

No sooner than she left did none other than Theo walk in. He made immediate eye contact with Draco, and Draco gasped quietly. His pupils were blown, larger than he'd ever seen them.

"Hey, Draco."

"Hi."

Theo walked closer to him. Draco stiffened.

"How's it going?" Theo asked, voice sounding slurred and unsteady. Draco bit down on his tongue to keep from scrunching up his nose. Theo was high.

"Fine," he answered nonchalantly.

"Hey, listen . . ." Theo, without asking, sauntered forward and plopped down onto Draco's mattress. Draco flinched, drawing his knees into his chest.

"I'm really, really sorry. About everything. I miss you so much."

Draco nodded. "I'm sure you do," he said, not really sure how you were supposed to talk to a high person.

Theo reached forward with a hand, and Draco wanted to sink into the pillows. He scooted further away until his back was digging into the headboard. "S-Stop."

"I fucked up," Theo continued, though he didn't reach for Draco again. "I shouldn't have gotten with Callahan for drugs. I swear that was all it was for."

"Doesn't matter," said Draco dryly. "You still cheated."

"I don't love him like how I love you," he said, and Draco wanted to stomp his feet and throw a tantrum, because what? Was this how people acted in love?

At the lack of response from Draco, Theo barrelled through.

"I love everything about you, Draco."

To throw a dog a bone, but mostly because it was true, Draco said, "That's not possible."

"I love your hair, how blonde it is." Before Draco could stop him, Theo leaned down and ran a hand through the soft locks that had grown past his ears. He needed a trim soon. But to his dismay, Theo also scooted closer to him and buried his nose into his hair, leaving a trail of kisses around the crown of his head.

"Please stop," Draco pleaded. Theo didn't listen as he took his hand that was in Draco's hair and slid it down his arm until it firmly gripped his waist. All the blankets in the world wouldn't have been enough of a barrier. Theo hugged Draco closer to his body, sighing as he continued nosing and kissing at his hair.

"I love your eyes," he said. "They look like a thunderstorm."

"That's nice and all," Draco said, pushing at Theo's chest, "but I'm gonna need you to get off me."

"And your voice," he continued, sighing into Draco's neck and breathing in his scent. "How low it gets when we fuck-"

"Stop-"

"Or." He pulled back, wearing a devious smirk. "How high it gets."

"That's enough," Draco said firmly, balling his hands into fists and pushing at Theo to get away, but the boy wouldn't budge.

"So you love my hair, eyes and voice. That's nice. That's very nice. Did you love fucking Callahan, huh? Did you love that, too?"

Theo looked genuinely dejected. "I'm sorry, Draco. I wanted these drugs so bad I didn't know what else to do. You aren't mad at me, are you?"

"You idiot." Draco pushed at him again, but he wouldn't move. "You can't expect me to stick around after the shit you pulled. You took advantage of me. You lied to me. You told me you were raped."

"I know, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, Draco, but will you please forgive me?"

Draco didn't think Theo understood how an apology worked. It wasn't something that could be demanded or made conditional.

"That's not how this works," he said carefully. "You did things to me, awful things, that can't just be forgiven with the snap of a finger."

Theo was still too close to him. Theo was still too close to him. Draco could feel his breath, smell his aftershave, and he didn't want any of it. He needed his space, dammit, this was his bed and Theo was crowding him.

"And could you, erm, back up? A bit?"

"I just want to be close to you," said Theo, leaning down and hugging Draco again. This time he wrapped both arms around his slender waist, pulling him up and into his chest. "I miss touching you, so much."

"That's exactly the problem," Draco hissed. "You only miss my body."

"It's a great body," Theo chuckled, planting another kiss on his neck. "No wonder I miss it. You can't blame me."

"I can if it's all you miss!" He made another attempt to pull Theo off him, but to no avail.

"Don't be silly, Draco, it's your best feature. Of course I'm going to miss it. Now, I'll miss your personality too, but not so much. Only a little bit. You're kind of a downer, in case you haven't noticed."

Draco felt like he'd been sucker-punched straight in the gut.

"Oh," he said, and really?

"Don't take it personally," said Theo. "It's just the truth."

"Yeah, that didn't sound personal at all," Draco snapped.

Theo sighed. "Here you go again, making a big deal over everything." He pulled back a little, letting go of Draco and leaning over him.

Draco didn't think he made a big deal over something unless it merited making a big deal of. This was one of those things, he thought. Right?

How come every time he tried sticking up for himself he was shot down?

"Draco, I didn't think it was a secret that I liked you for your body. I mean, I thought you were cool with that. You seemed really into it."

Another sucker-punch. This time Draco would have doubled over.

"I-I . . . I . . . . You mean, that's the main reason you liked me? All this time?"

"Are you kidding?" Theo scoffed. Then his face quickly hardened. "Oh, shit, you're serious."

Draco felt a dangerous prick in the corners of his eyes, and he began blinking rapidly as his heart rate spiked and the claustrophobia crept in with Theo crowding him.

"Draco, let's not try to pretend that we had the deepest connection in the whole, wide world," Theo said kindly, and his tone of voice did nothing to seal Draco's wounds. "I liked you for your body, and you have to be honest and say you liked me for mine."

Draco had to be honest. He had.

Nodding slowly, he gestured for Theo to continue.

"It was a mutual physical attraction. Then I realized if I wanted to fuck you, I might as well date you so that I could fuck you whenever I wanted no questions asked."

"You didn't have to be in a relationship with me to do that," said Draco. "All it did was mess with my head."

Theo shrugged. "You didn't seem to mind too much when we got physical."

"That's because I thought you liked me for me."

Theo sighed. "Really, Draco? This again? Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you think anyone could like you for you?"

Dark hair, glasses and green eyes flashed in Draco's mind like lightning for a split second, then it was gone.

"I thought you did," Draco said weakly.

Theo laughed. High on drugs, mind addled, Theo actually laughed at him.

"You're really funny, Draco."

"Wasn't trying to be. Usually when you're in a relationship with someone, you tend to think it goes both ways. I liked you for all of you."

"Taking these drugs made me realize it was time to be honest with myself," said Theo. "You can go ahead and tell the others if you want, see who they'll believe. Someone who's got their head on straight or someone who likes to make everything all about themselves and bring everybody down."

Hurt shot through Draco's chest, but he shoved it down.

"Head on straight! Like you don't already know that our friend group is giving you a break because of . . ." How bad you hurt me. "-what you did. You have no leverage with them whatsoever."

Theo shrugged, sitting back on Draco's bed. "You can talk to them about it if you want, they already told me they feel the exact same way."

Wait, what?

"I-I don't believe you," said Draco, but it sounded uncertain even to his own ears.

Theo laughed heartily. "Sure you don't. I can see it in your eyes; you do."

"W-What did they say?" Draco knew he sounded pathetic, but he couldn't help but ask.

Theo shook his head, still smiling. "Pansy thinks you're full of it, and Blaise thinks you starve yourself for attention. Greg just thinks you're a giant drama queen."

"You talked to Greg about me?"

Pansy and Blaise he could understand, deep down he always worried that that was how they felt about him, but Greg he always imagined being loyal, being on his side.

"Correction: Greg talked to me about you. Now, is there anything else you'd like to ask or are we done making things about ourselves?"

Draco's mouth hung open in outrage. He could not believe this. His friends all secretly hated him. It made sense, if he thought about it. He did always bring everybody down, what with his former Death Eater status and how the entire school made his existence a joke. He didn't need to be dragging other people into that. They didn't deserve it.

"Whatcha thinking about? How pathetic you are?"

Draco felt the stinging and the prickling again, and Theo needed to leave. Now.

"Just go," he said quietly, looking into Theo's cruel brown eyes that were crinkled in laughter at his expense. "Just go."

"Aw, now you want me to go? You don't want me to stay, cuddle it all better for you?" Theo laughed at his own joke. "Just so you know? I wasn't bluffing before. Callahan was a way better lay than you."

That was the final nail in the coffin.

"Fuck you!" Draco exclaimed, shoving Theo off him, but Theo did not budge.

"Nice try," he grinned. "But you lost that chance when you broke up with me."

"I'm glad I broke up with you, you self-entitled prick."

"Oh, are you? Who are you going to bitch to about all your emotional problems? Who's going to listen to you rage and moan about your father being locked up and your mother being isolated at the Manor?"

That was one day, a bad one at that, and Draco had thought Theo was being gracious and there for him.

"Oh, I knew you were going to throw that in my face," Draco snarled, sitting up and scooting closer to the other boy.

"God forbid I be anything less than perfect for you. God forbid I have one single flaw."

"God fucked up when he made you, that's for damn sure," said Theo. "And newsflash, Draco, you have a lot more than one 'single flaw.'"

It stung, but he kept his expression neutral.

"At least I'm aware of mine, instead of walking around everywhere acting like I'm perfect."

"You think I act like I'm perfect? You're the one bragging to everyone about your perfect marks and all your NEWTs like we get it. Draco Malfoy is smart. No need to parade it around everywhere."

"I don't brag, I answer when you ask me how I do on tests. That's different."

"Merlin, you're full of it. I don't know what I saw in you."

"Me neither. Since you clearly think I'm not worth the dirt beneath your fingernails, why don't you just leave me alone?"

Draco was exhausted with this conversation. Theo had worn him down thin, and he just wanted to bury his face into his pillow and cry in peace. His ex boyfriend had made it clear to him that he never loved him, nor saw him as anything more than a quick fuck. His suspicions had all come true.

Theo chuckled, leaning down closer. "Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I want to leave you alone. You may not have been as good as Callahan, but you're still a quality lay. And, I know you're desperate for me. I can tell."

Draco scoffed. "Desperate for you! As if."

"Don't pretend, Draco." Theo pushed in closer, wrapped his strong arms around his waist again. Draco kicked from beneath the blankets. He didn't budge. Theo nuzzled his nose into his neck. Draco wrinkled his eyes closed and stifled a sob. He didn't want this. He didn't want this.

"I know how badly you want me. Especially right now. You're begging for it."

"When did you get so bad at reading body language, you tosser? I don't want you. And I never w-will again."

"Hmm. That's what you said our first time together," Theo said in a sultry tone, too saccharine for Draco's liking. "And look how your body betrayed you." He pressed a kiss on Draco's neck, right in a spot he knew he liked, then another one, then another one.

Draco shivered.

"See?"

With shaking hands he made another effort to push Theo off. "Stop it. Please. Don't."

"Don't what? Kiss you?" Theo pressed another kiss. "Touch you?" Theo yanked down the sheet to expose Draco's legs that were pressed against his chest. Gently, Theo pried apart his knees like he'd done hundreds of times before. He rested a hand on Draco's thigh that now lay on the bed.

"God, seeing you like this . . ." He pressed open-mouthed kisses onto Draco's jaw. He shuddered, shaking his head. "You may not be much, Draco, but you sure are pretty."

"You dated me," Draco reminded him. "Says just as much about you that you wanted to be with somebody as boring as me."

"You were never boring in bed," said Theo. "That's what I really liked about you."

"Is that all?" Draco asked idly.

"Take me back," said Theo. "I'll be so good for you, Draco. I love the parts of you that matter."

"You mean my looks?"

Theo sighed. "Must you be so dramatic?"

"Dramatic," Draco scoffed. "There's a difference between standing up for myself and being dramatic."

"And which one do you think you're doing right now?"

Before Draco could answer, Theo was mouthing at his neck again, pressing impossibly closer, breathing deeply, muttering how badly he wanted to fuck him under his breath. At this point Draco was panicking because Theo was physically stronger than him in every regard, and if Theo wanted to fuck him there wasn't a whole lot Draco could do to prevent it from happening.

"Please don't," Draco tried, louder this time, hopefully maybe to attract the attention of someone nearby. "Stop it!"

"Mmm, I love it when you act like you're not affected by me," murmured Theo, pulling back and cupping Draco's face. "Such a slut."

If it were just some random person, Draco wouldn't have been affected, but it was his ex boyfriend. Who thought he was a slut. His opinion shouldn't matter. But somehow, it did.

"P-Please, just let go of me. Please."

"You mean to tell me what I'm doing isn't turning you on at least a little?"

Theo began rubbing the hand on his thigh, trailing closer and closer to . . .

Knock knock.

Theo froze, immediately moving back away from Draco. Draco shakily breathed out a sigh in relief. Before he could invite the knocker in, the door swung further open to reveal the one and only Harry Potter.

Theo gaped, open-mouthed, at Potter, whereas Draco had never been more grateful to see him in his life.

"Potter," he greeted, and he really hoped he didn't sound too cheerful.

By Potter's raised eyebrow and questioning look, he supposed he didn't do a very good job.

Potter glanced from him to Theo, back to him, back to Theo. It only then occurred to Draco that Theo was still on his bed, and to the average, heterosexual eye that would appear strange.

Potter was completely straight. The world did not need to keep reminding him.

But since when did Potter's sexuality matter?

"Erm, am I interrupting something?"

Draco practically sprang out of bed. "Nope! Nothing here, nothing to interrupt. In fact, he was just leaving. You came at a perfect time."

Theo glared at him. Draco narrowed his eyes at him a fraction before returning his attention to Potter.

"You needed something?"

Potter didn't look the least bit convinced.

"Yeah . . ." He looked at the pair of them again, narrowing his eyes. "I came to tell you McGonagall wants to see you in her office."

Dread coursed through Draco's veins. What had he done now? Was this about the Dennis Parsons incident? Had Parsons found some way to make him the culprit?

Potter must have seen the color drain from his face, for he said, "You aren't in trouble. I actually told her that Justin and the others attacked you, unprovoked. I just thought you should know."

Draco gaped at him. "W-What? W-Why would you do that?"

"Because it's the truth. Isn't it?"

"Well, y-yeah, b-but-"

"But what? Wouldn't you want her to know the truth?"

"But it's you." Theo forgotten, Draco leapt up off the edge of his bed and stepped closer to Potter.

Potter looked unaffected. "And?"

"And you . . . you could have gotten in so much trouble for lying . . . And I thought you . . . I thought you were the one that told her, I thought you framed me-"

"I never framed you. I just went along with what they were doing because I thought it was the truth. After seeing you get hurt this week I realized that it must not have been. For what it's worth, Malfoy, I'm sorry."

Draco began shaking. Here Potter was apologizing to him, and amending a wrong. What had the world come to?

"W-Why are you doing this?" he asked again, unable to fully comprehend the answer that was so clearly laid out for him.

Potter shrugged. Draco heard Theo shuffle behind him and move off the bed.

"Because he feels sorry for you," Theo said in his ear.

"What did he say?" Potter asked.

Draco sighed.

"I said because you feel sorry for him, don't you?" Theo asked.

Potter lifted a brow. "What's it to you how I feel?"

Theo reeled back from the coldness. "Excuse me?"

"I don't recall this being any of your business," said Potter.

"It's my room. You came here. Therefore, you made it my business."

"I came to talk to Malfoy; not to you."

"Anything you have to say to Draco you can say to me."

"Theo, stop." Draco resisted the urge to physically push him away.

Theo scoffed. "Just because we're broken up, doesn't mean you have to- Oh shit, whoops."

Draco's eyes had widened to the size of saucers, and he froze from head to toe. Potter raised an eyebrow but otherwise looked unaffected by Theo's statement.

"Sorry . . . I forgot you had a weird thing about not wanting him to know. Oh, well. I guess the cat's out of the bag."

Draco was ready to cry. First Theo had delivered news that he'd never liked him the same way Draco had liked him, then that his friends all hated him, which was starting to become more believable by the second, and lastly now Harry Potter knew he was gay. Could this day get any worse?

Theo pursed his lips as he looked from Draco to Potter. "Well, I think this is my cue. Later."

Potter moved out of his way as Theo exited the room.

Then he looked back to Draco.

"That was-"

"My ex, yes." Draco couldn't make eye contact. He felt rather than heard Potter come closer.

"I don't have a problem with it, if that's what you were worried about. My best mate's older brother, well, he-"

"I don't want to hear about who in your life is or isn't," Draco snapped, feeling very frustrated all of a sudden. "It shouldn't matter if you know anyone who is or is not. All that should matter is that you're okay with it."

Potter's eyes had widened considerably by the end of Draco's speech, and all he did was nod for a moment. "I never thought of it like that before, Malfoy, you're right. I'm sorry. I have no problem whatsoever."

Draco sighed. "Whatever."

"No, seriously, I don't."

Draco had been robbed of his chance to tell Potter on his own. Not that he ever would have, but still.

"Well, that's all I came to tell you. Go see her whenever you have the chance. I think they're almost done with dinner, so now's probably a good time."

"Could you, could you, erm, maybe walk with me? There?" Draco blurted out. He found that after his and Theo's horrible row, he really didn't want to be alone right now, and he was basically friendless, now. So all of a sudden, Potter didn't seem like too bad of company.

Potter's eyes widened, but he did not shake his head. "Erm, yeah. Sure. That's . . . Yeah. Let's go."

So they began to walk. Draco asked him about his classes and his friends. He did not talk about his crumbling state of mind, of the unsteady pounding of his chest whenever he and Potter brushed his shoulders, and he certainly did not talk about the fact that he believed he was developing a crush on his supposed arch nemesis. That wouldn't go over very well, now would it?

Was it a crush? Draco didn't think it was normal to platonically stare at Potter as much as he stared at Potter. Could stare and platonic even work in the same sentence? He wasn't sure.

Either way, during their walk Draco couldn't stop staring at the chiseled work of Potter's jaw or the brightness of his eyes and how they seemed to sparkle a little bit extra whenever Draco said something funny. It seemed to him like Potter genuinely enjoyed his company, and if Draco was being honest with himself, he enjoyed Potter's company, too. He had enjoyed it when the git had come to visit him in the hospital, both times. He had enjoyed it when Potter had walked him to the kitchens, had talked to him in the middle of the night when they both couldn't sleep. He had to admit to himself that he, at least to some degree, enjoyed Potter's company.

This was a major problem. If Potter so much as caught the slightest wind that Draco enjoyed his company, he was in major trouble. If that happened, then Potter might begin seeking him out, which would eventually lead to him finding out that Draco was attracted to him, and what? And Potter would eventually leave, would immediately leave as soon as he found that out. Not only was he the polar opposite of gay, he practically hated Draco.

Would he have agreed to walk you to the office if he hated you? a voice in the back of his head asked him.

"Question. Do you hate me?" Draco blurted out in the middle of Potter's story, which he had not been listening to in the slightest on account of his mini freak-out.

The question apparently surprised Potter enough to get him to stop walking. Draco stopped with him, walking forward to face him.

"Well? Do you?" The question was out, might as well own it.

Potter's eyes were wide. He blinked those feverishly green eyes once, twice, a third time. He adjusted his glasses.

"Do I hate you?" he repeated.

Draco sighed. "It's a yes or no answer, Potter."

"Do I hate you? After everything we've been through, do you honestly think I hate you?"

"Well, I-" Everybody else does.

"Do you really, really think, I'd go back in a fire, pick somebody up with my bare hands, and fly them to safety at the risk of my own life as well as my best mate's if I hated them?"

"Well, no, but I-"

"And then proceed to stand before the entire Wizengamot and tell them about how the same person I apparently hate doesn't deserve to spend the rest of his life rotting in Azkaban because the crimes he was practically forced to commit were imposed on him when he was a child? Do you really think I'd do that to somebody I hated, Malfoy?"

"Well, when you put it that way-"

"The answer is no. I wouldn't. Not only is it incredibly insulting to ask, it undermines everything I fought for with my life. I died, when I walked out into that forest, Malfoy. I actually died. And you know what?"

Draco was nervous now. Potter had died? He balled his hand into a fist in an attempt to stop it from trembling.

"W-What?"

"I didn't come back just for people like you to be stuck on schoolboy rivalries and shitty pasts and toxic emotions such as hatred. After everything I fought for, Malfoy, do you honestly believe I have any room left for hate?"

"I guess it was kinda a loaded-"

"Loaded question? Mhm. Self-centered, too, while we're at it, but what else is new?"

Draco didn't think he could handle another second of this emotionally taxing conversation. It was getting too intense, too involved, and he was better off running away before one of them went too far. Too many hits had been delivered to his ego today. He was getting the familiar, dangerous stinging again in the corners of his eyes, so he needed to act fast.

"You know what?" he asked thickly. "I think I can take it from here. Thanks for walking me, Potter." He began to walk away, but Potter was faster. He gripped Draco's forearm tightly and yanked him back.

"Oh, no you don't. Running away like a coward every time something gets hard? I don't think so. I thought you were better than your father, Malfoy. At least, that's what you tried to tell us, remember?"

"I never said I was better than him," said Draco, attempting to pull his arm free, but Potter wasn't having it. "I said I was sorry."

"You know what I meant, you tosser. Your father wouldn't have apologized for anything."

"You don't know my father," Draco said in automatic defense, though Potter was right on the money whether he liked it or not.

Potter let go of his arm. "I know him enough. He followed Voldemort. Tells me a lot."

Draco flinched from the name.

Potter sighed. "You and everybody else in existence flinches. Am I really the only one who can say his name?"

"If anything, you should have been more afraid than the rest of us."

Potter smirked. "I'm weird like that."

"Stupid Gryffindor bravery."

"Guess so. So do you still think I hate you?"

"Shut up."

"No, really, for my own peace of mind." Now Potter was taking the piss. "I need to know. Do you think I hate you?"

Draco sighed. "No, I don't think you hate me. I'm sorry I asked. It was . . . It was nothing."

Potter frowned. "Clearly it wasn't nothing. Something compelled you to ask."

Yeah. You might be the only person who likes me right now.

Instead, Draco settled on, "I've put you and your friends through a lot."

Potter nodded. "You have. Your point?"

"And I . . . I want to make it right."

"Do you now?"

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be."

"How about I'll make this as hard as I want because you smashed my nose in and left me on the train in sixth year."

"Alright, touche. Name your demands."

"Demands?"

"Yes, Potter, your demands. Your conditions. For you and your friends' forgiveness."

"Forgiveness isn't conditional. You seem to keep forgetting that."

Of course forgiveness was conditional. You couldn't ever get something from nothing. Whenever Draco apologized to his parents as a child, they wouldn't ever forgive him until he was put through a punishment or made to clean the house with the House Elves, a most humbling task that he was surprised his father even allowed him to do.

"Of course it is. Nothing's ever that simple."

"What if it can be?"

"You're saying that you and your friends are going to forgive me just like that?"

"No, but-"

"Then my point stands."

"It doesn't, because you're wrong. Forgiveness isn't conditional. But it does take time."

Time. Right, of course. The one thing Draco didn't have, because all too soon he'd be catapulted out into the real world, where he had a most obnoxious sign on his back and where everyone really hated him and employers wouldn't hire him to scrape the dust off their floors and where everybody loved Harry Potter.

"Yes. I suppose it does take time," said Draco. "I wouldn't expect you to forgive me instantly."

"I think if they knew you were genuinely sorry and not just saying it for attention, then they would give it a shot."

What was it with everybody thinking Draco did things for attention?

"When I came up to you guys, I was genuinely sorry. Justin and the others had just told me that Neville's parents were tortured to insanity."

Potter's eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth. "They told you that? That's not their information to tell."

Draco shrugged. "I certainly didn't need to know. Made me literally sick to my stomach."

"I'm actually pissed at them for telling you that. No offense," said Potter.

"None taken," Draco said dryly.

"They should've been more sensitive with it being Neville's personal information. He probably wouldn't want you knowing all that."

Just like Theo should've been more sensitive with his. But, to be fair, sexuality and brain-dead parents were two completely different stories.

"Well, it's not like I asked them to tell me," snapped Draco, because honestly, it felt a little bit like Potter was blaming him for knowing, which was unacceptable. Maybe it was that he felt like Draco was such an undesirable person to be told a secret. That hurt.

"I know, but you just told me. I might not have known."

Draco fixed him with a deadpan stare. "You're telling me you didn't?"

Potter looked sheepish. "Well, I did, but that's not the point."

Draco sighed.

Potter took a closer look at him. "So that guy you were with . . . You said that was your ex, then?"

"Yes," Draco said stiffly. He did not want to admit to Potter of all people that he had been cheated on and played with.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

Was Draco going to tell him anyway? Because he was pathetic and lonely and had nothing more to lose? Absolutely.

"He, erm, cheated on me. For drugs."

Potter gasped.

"It's really not-"

"Malfoy, that's horrible. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Draco shrugged. "He told me that he only wanted me for sex, but it doesn't matter."

Potter looked forlorn. "Of course it matters."

Draco suddenly felt too small, too exposed. "It's really fine," he tried again. "I'm honestly over it-"

"It's okay not to be over it. How long ago did this happen?"

Draco debated before telling him the truth. "Two days."

"Merlin."

"Yeah."

"I'd be concerned if you were already over it."

Now, how was Draco supposed to respond to that?

"Erm, I . . . I dunno what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," said Potter. "It sounds like it was a really shitty situation and he didn't treat you right. At all."

"No, I guess not."

"Malfoy, that's really . . . I'm really sorry."

"What on earth are you apologizing for?"

"I dunno. I just feel . . . Responsible. Like I should've stepped in. Like when I saw him being all possessive over you that night you were drunk."

"That's your hero complex acting up."

Potter sighed. "Can it, Malfoy, I'm serious. He showed all the signs that night of someone who was abusive, and I just ignored it because I was annoyed by you. Now, what does that say about me?"

"It says that you're a normal person who doesn't like getting entangled in other people's affairs," said Draco. "Now, can we please drop this?"

"Not quite yet," said Potter. "I'm a little confused, because you said he's your ex but when I came into the room, he was all over you."

Now Draco was thoroughly uncomfortable. They were officially in dangerous territory. Had Potter seen Theo slide his hand up Draco's leg? Draco had thought the door had been closed. Had it not been?

"Erm . . . He can be a little . . . handsy, sometimes."

"I can see that." Potter's eyes did not leave Draco's.

"Especially when he wants something."

"What did he want?"

"He wanted me to take him back."

"The fucker."

Draco shrugged. "It's not like I was worth caring about or anything. He made that abundantly clear."

Potter stopped walking, looked closer at him. It took everything not to flinch. "You are worth caring about. You know that, right?"

Draco was confused. Why would Potter say something like that to him? Surely he didn't- What?

"He's a piece of shit and he doesn't deserve you, Malfoy. You deserve someone who will treat you right."

A harsh, bitter laugh escaped Draco. "I dunno what I should've expected. Always have a tendency to attract the bad ones. Guess it's what I deserve."

"Hey, you stop it right there," said Potter, grabbing his arm again, stopping him from walking away. "You don't get to stand there and say what you deserve. You don't get to decide that. You're worth more than you realize."

"Oh, and what makes you say that?" asked Draco, reeling around to stare at Potter. "You certainly don't think so. You don't think I'm worth the scraps off your plate."

"You don't get to stand there and tell me how I feel about you," Potter snapped, pointing a finger at him. It took everything in Draco not to back up. "My whole life, other people have always told me what to do, what to say, how to feel. I've had enough of it. I'm my own person, Malfoy. I'll like whoever I damn please."

Wait a minute- "You like me?"

Potter's cheeks were instantly splashed in a generous coat of pink. "N-No, that's not what I- I was using 'like' as an example to convey the- You know what, Malfoy? Never mind. I'll tell you the truth. You deserve that much after having been lied to like that. You aren't a bad person. You've made some bad choices that I'm beginning to realize weren't choices at all as much as they were collateral damage of a much bigger fallout. I think you're resilient and clever, and hard working, and when you aren't being a total prat you can actually be kind of nice to talk to."

Draco felt the onset of a smile. "You think I'm nice to talk to?" You don't think I bring everybody down?

Potter nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Draco couldn't help himself. He smiled softly. "Well, thanks. You aren't bad company yourself, either, Potter."

"Whoa, whoa. Don't get too ahead of yourself. You haven't seen my bad side," said Potter, and Draco assumed that was a joke, so he laughed. Laughter was the appropriate reaction, for Potter placed an arm on his shoulder and guided him to begin walking again.

Hyper-aware of Potter's hand on his shoulder, Draco peered into his eyes as they walked. Once Potter caught his stare, he realized what he'd done and dropped his hand off Draco's shoulder like it was flaming hot.

"Erm, sorry."

"It's fine."

"I just feel like . . . you and I have known each other so long. There's no reason we shouldn't be friends."

That was out of left field. Acquaintances Draco could handle, but friends?

"Friends?" Draco squeaked. Like the kind that wrote each other letters and confided secrets to and talked to about each other's lives? That kind of friends?

"We've been through a war together, Malfoy. We had a common enemy."

"I was on his side-"

"Did you want to be?"

The question stunned Draco. "What does it matter?"

"It matters," Potter said quietly. "Did you want to be?"

"No," Draco answered, very softly. "No, I didn't."

"Then he was your enemy. We were on the same side, even if you couldn't show it."

Draco gasped quietly. No one had ever said that to him before, no one had ever validated the nagging question that had been at the back of his head ever since the war ended.

"We- We were?"

Potter nodded. "Yes. We were."

Draco felt his chest swell with pride. He wasn't on the wrong side. He wasn't on the wrong side. If Potter said it, it had to be true. Right?

"Well, here we are," said Potter, and Draco was thoroughly disappointed. He wasn't sure when he'd see Potter again. All he knew was he wanted to. Badly.

"Oh, right," he said instead. "Thanks for walking me."

Potter smiled at him. A real, genuine, white-teethed smile. Draco could have melted. "Any time."

When Potter spun around and left, for the first time in days, Draco felt lonelier in solitude than he had in company.