Chapter 9: New Year, New Changes, Same Doubt
Draco had various ideas of how first year would be like at Hogwarts. That he would be sorted into Slytherin. He'd rule his house as the prince he was. He and Harry would keep things interesting with a few pranks they pulled here and there. In some ways his vision wasn't too far from reality. Difference between the two were the changes he couldn't have predicted.
Weasley and Granger being part of those changes.
Halloween was already a dreadful holiday to the young Malfoy heir but after the rescue he hated it even more. His best friend may not have turned into a zombie but did wane from him.
Since Halloween the Slytherin and two Gryffindors became close, practically attached to the hip, forming into an odd but tight group. A group Draco couldn't and didn't even want to be apart of. Harry spent time with Weasley and his friends in the Gryffindo common room. He'd meet Granger in the library to study or talk more about books. At the Hall, during meals, he spilt his time between eating with Draco and their friends and going over to the Gryffindors where he was welcomed with open arms.
He'd never forget how one lunch, after they walked in, Harry gave him a departing smile and ventured over to the Gryffindors side. The Headmaster watched the scene with a smile, the approving sparkle in his eyes leaving a horrible taste in Draco's mouth.
A taste that worsened as Granger sent a smirk his way as Harry sat down, in between her and the weasel.
I can only hope Harry realizes he can do better. Her smirk said that and more. I knew he could and he did.
He had no idea how close he was to hexing her till Theo had to put down his hand that was grasping onto his wand, hissing at him not to be an idiot.
He tried to ignored the pricks of jealously that bit into him, getting underneath his skin, whenever he saw Harry with them. Whenever he came into their room and saw it was empty. Whenever he'd ask one of their friends where he was and the shrugged response was almost always, "Probably with Weasley and Granger."
He tried busying himself by using the Harry-free time to hang out with other friends, work on homework, read a bit, or write to his parents. He let them know of Harry's strange relations with the Gryffindors and was relieved that the reaction was the same as his: disbelief and annoyance.
He supposed he could have tagged along with them. Harry did extend the invitation to him for study meets and lunch dates. But each time he declined, unable to stand being around the insects for too long. After all, he wasn't lying about what he said to Granger. He may have helped Harry and Weasley save her from the troll but it didn't change anything. She was still an insect to him, one he wanted to squish on sight everytime he saw her or heard her voice. And Weasley was still an idiotic, blood-traitor not worth the dirt off his shoes. And he knew the disdain feeling was mutual from the other side. Still, he hated this. He hated sharing Harry. He already had a hard time sharing him with their other friends; there were times he'd watch Harry closely during his meets with Theo. But this was worse. He had to share his best friend with two imbeciles who were thorns to his sides.
One of whom that was dumbfounded by the fact Harry was friends with him in the first place.
More than once he wondered if he should tell Harry what Granger had said to him in the library. It might be a cheap move to play, but he knew Harry wouldn't see the girl so innocently if he revealed her own nasty nature. But each time he came close, his mouth closed, the fear and doubt tightly coiled around his throat. Though mostly fear. He couldn't risk losing his best friend. He definitely couldn't let the insect think she won.
They weren't the only things he didn't count for. Out all the scenarios he played on about their first year in Hogwarts, none involved a dangerous, mad lunatic who wanted Harry dead.
But there was, and it wasn't just any lunatic. It was Quirrell. Quiet, germaphobe-cautious, stuttering Quirrell who Draco thought could easily be blown away by a gust of wind. The same one who proved that he was a true Slytherin, revealing a sinister plotter underneath the stammering exterior as he lured them to the heart of the school.
Draco didn't remember of that night. He was fading in and out most of the time. He remembered Harry screaming his name as Quirrell hurled him against the wall. He remembered the Dark Lord, or the part of him that was embedded in the back of the teacher's head, asking Harry for the Philosopher's stone, offering him to join his side, saying he could his parents back. He remembered Harry's loud refusal, "Never!" that was as powerful as the flames that engulfed the room. He remembered, right before he blacked out, he never felt more scared or helpless as he did watching the Dark Lord's ashes fly through his Harry and how hard the boy fell to the ground.
He had no idea what would have happened if Dumbledore and Uncle Severus didn't come for them. They were all taken to the infirmary where they were all treated by Madame Pomfrey. He, Weasley, and Granger got out with some cuts and bumps. Harry wasn't as lucky. He was still unconscious as he was placed on the bed, his broken wrist set in a cast. He was too pale, too still, even after Pomfrey treated his wounds.
Draco shrugged off his godfather's hand and stayed by Harry's side, gripping tightly onto his other hand. "No."
"He needs his rest, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore told him, his gentle smile. "I assure you he's placed in capable hands."
The headmaster's smile was returned with a dark scowl. Before Draco could tell the old man what he could do with those capable hands, or better yet where he could stick them, Severus reclaimed his shoulder and gave it a warning squeeze.
"Draco shall leave Potter in Pomfrey's capable hands and retire for the night to get his rest," With a pointed look pinned to him, Severus added, "He'll need it for the great punishment I have in store for him and his friend."
Oh shit.
With great reluctance, Draco obeyed. Then came back to the infirmary the next morning, bright and early, where he stayed by Harry's side until he had to leave. This continued on for several days until he finally got word that Harry awakened. He couldn't get there fast enough.
Sadly, for him, someone beat him there. The old goat. He hid himself behind the door, listening to Dumbledore explain to Harry that the Dark Lord was gone, but that didn't mean forever. How he showed little mercy to his followers as he did with his enemies such as Quirrell who was left for dead. That the reason Harry didn't only manage to survive but beat him was because of his power, power strengthened by his mother's sacrifice.
"Love, Harry," the old man had said. "The selfless, unconditional love a mother has for her child knows no bound. Her sacrifice is proof of that."
When Dumbledore finally left, Draco stepped away from his hiding spot and entered the room. He was never more glad to see bright yet deep green eyes turn to him, conscious and alert.
Harry barely had time to breath or say a word before Draco flung himself at him, mindful of his cast.
He was relieved that his fierce hug was returned with the same amount of fierceness. "I was so worried about you."
"I was worried about you."
Him? If Draco wasn't so happy that Harry was okay, he'd smack him for being so oblivious.
Harry scooted over, making room for him on the tiny bed. Draco settled himself in, pulling Harry against him. Harry laid his head on his shoulder.
"So does this mean I should say my final prayers to Merlin before you gut me." Harry teased, reminding him of the threat he made after the Granger-rescue.
Draco stroked his hair, thinking. "Not today, Potter," he told him. "So you better appreciate it because I won't be so nice the next time you decide to get us into trouble."
Harry smiled up at him. "You know you're starting to sound like Uncle Severus, right?"
Draco opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, dumbfounded. Harry laughed. His right wrist may have broken, but his left arm was fine. Or was until Draco slammed a hard punch against it.
"Ow!"
"That's what you get, git."
"Prat!"
First year definitely wasn't how Draco imagined, but at least it ended off on a good note with Slytherin winning the House Cup. Again.
But that the was the first school year. Now it was summer, or rather close to the end of summer, which Draco was sad to see slip away, not in the mood for another long year of classes and homework but also didn't exactly mind seeing it slip since a certain person was coming back home. Finally.
"Draco, if you keep pacing like that, you're going to ruin the floorboard."
The young man broke away from thoughts of first-year and returned to the present.
"Sorry, Father." It was strange to open his mouth and hear a strange, deeper sound emerge from it. It's been weeks since his voice had matured and he still wasn't used to the change.
One of the many strange changes this summer had brought.
Father nodded and returned to the Daily Prophet. Mother, on the other hand, smiled that strange, almost-knowing smile, like she knew something that affected him but didn't want to tell him. Least not yet.
"Draco, dear," she said. "Harry will be here soon. You're acting as if he's been gone for a year instead of the summer."
A summer too long, far too long. It might as well have been a year. It certainly dragged like it.
Harry had been invited by Lupin to spend the summer with him, in Moscow of all places. Ordinarily, Draco wouldn't mind, despite his feelings for the man, since the two were close. But this visit was different. It wasn't just a weekly visit. It was for most of the summer. Despite the lack-luster location, Harry wanted to go. Father wasn't crazy about the idea nor was Severus. Draco most certainly wasn't. Mother, though, to his shock and annoyance thought it would be fine.
Harry had invited him along, saying Lupin wouldn't mind housing one more person, but he declined. Actually, Mother declined for him, knowing his dislike for extreme cold weather, adding that a summer apart might be good for them.
Draco didn't think so at the time, and the opinion didn't change weeks later. From the moment Harry disappeared into the floo, things have off. Fuzzy. Odd. That was the perfect word actually to describe how he has been feeling since his best friend left: odd. Like his world was tilted. Like something was missing, something small enough not to attract too much attention but important enough for his well-being to be affected by its absence.
Draco wasn't surprised. Even though they've been owling each other and talking through fire-call, it still wasn't enough. He missed his best friend.
Draco bit his lip and looked at the fireplace. Still no Harry.
Where is he? He should be here by now. Harry said so himself that was he returning the day after his birthday. Draco was getting anxious. He knew it. His parents knew it,too, judging by his father's scowl that deepened with his pacing and his mother smiling. Even the simple-minded house-elves knew it.
"Draco."
"I'm sorry, Father." He wasn't sure if he would ever get used to his new voice.
Then again it was hard getting used to the rest of the changes his body went through over the summer. His voice deepened, an odd change but one he preferred to the slight crack he nursed a few days after his birthday. His body stretched out, growing a few inches taller. He was now close to his father's shoulder. And his features sharpened, losing some of the baby-fat chubbiness, though he was a bit peeved with how pointy his chin looked or how big his forehead was. But he was spared the acne, thanks to brilliant genes, so he couldn't really complain.
"The next time one of the boys is called away, remind me to insist the other one accompanies him," Father said to Mother. "For Merlin's sake, Draco, I will spell your feet to the floor if you continue pacing!"
Draco forced himself to remain still. The smile on mother's face widened.
Seeing that smile reminded Draco of another change that happened over the summer. The strange lessons Mother had put him through, ones which consisted heavily of creature research-specifically Veela-and history. Family history. He learned from his mother's side, he carried Veela blood in him. Though according to her, time would tell if he possessed the gene.
What are the odds?
Before he could ask his mother again, whether or not the gene was dormant, the floo roared. Question forgotten, a huge grin spread across Draco's face as a he ran over to the fireplace. Just in time, too, as a familiar figure covered in multiple layers popped in, stumbling a bit.
"Draco!" Harry grinned.
"Harry!" He pulled the boy into a tight hug, feeling the world was set back in balance as arms wrapped around him. The scent of cinnamon and tart swarmed his senses. He laid his head on his friend's shoulder and sighed happily.
"I missed you."
Music to Draco's ears. He was happy he wasn't the only one suffering from the separation. "You wouldn't have to if you came back early." Like weeks early.
Rolling those bright-emerald greens, Harry reminded him, "You know I did invite you to come with. Despite what you think, Remus does have plenty of room."
Draco scoffed. "You know how sensitive my skin is. It's too much of a risk."
"Oh, that's right. I forgot how delicate you are." Harry poked him in the stomach, his eyes practically laughing.
A flutter rippled through Draco's stomach, warming his lower region, caused either by the icy-cold touch of Harry's finger or the spark that went off the in the boy's green eyes. For a moment, Draco stood still, confused by the unexpected warmth and flutter. Then he blinked and the moment was gone, taking the foreign feeling and confusion away with it.
Shaking his head, Draco mock-glared and punched Harry lightly in the arm. "Git."
A throat-clearing interrupted their playful bantering, turning their attention to the back. Mother rose from her seat and opened her arms. Harry broke away from Draco's hold to entangle himself in hers.
Draco tried not to notice how cold, how off he suddenly felt with the separation.
"Aunt Cissa."
"Oh Harry," Mother pulled him back and held his face in her hand, smiling at her godson. Her smiled turned knowingly, almost playful, as she brushed back messy locks of hair. "How have you been, dear?"
"Good."
Father put down the paper and came forward to greet his charge. "Harry, I trust things in Moscow were well."
"Yes, sir," Harry nodded, his voice noticeably and remarkably deeper. "It was a little cold, but still good."
A little cold? The boy was dressed from head to toe in layers. Including a hat.
"That's good. I'm glad-" Father paused, his face souring. "What is that smell?"
It wasn't until Father had pointed it out that Draco noticed there was musk in the air. And not the good kind. It was the type of musk that brought him to that oaf Hagrid's hut. And the musk was coming from Harry.
"Oh," he said a bit bemused. "I was helping Remus straighten out the barn before I left."
"A barn?" Draco asked, incredulous. That's where Harry spent his summer?
"Yes, Draco. A barn." Harry turned to him. "Farm houses tend to have those."
Draco shuddered.
Obviously Father wasn't as charmed either. "Just when I think Lupin can't outdo himself. Why don't you go get settled in, Harry? Wash up."
Harry headed to their room. Draco followed closely behind him.
While Harry unpacked his bags, Draco reached into his nightstand and pulled out a small package wrapped in red that contained Harry's birthday present. He supposed he could have sent it via-owl but he wanted to see the look on Harry's face when he opened it.
He's going to love it, Draco smiled.
Turning around, Draco was about to call his name. Then paused, taking in what he was seeing. Harry had shed his sweater layers, peeling them off one by one and dropping them onto the floor or bed. He was down to his last sweater, revealing a red-shirt underneath. As he struggled with the last sweater, his shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing a line of skin. Draco's eyes were immediately drawn to it.
Downstairs, he didn't really pay much attention to the boy's appearance, caught in the welcoming him back. Now, up close and alone, Draco saw he wasn't the only one who went through changes over the summer.
Harry's voice deepened. Though Draco was still the taller of the two, he had grown himself, expanding up to a few inches. His features sharpened, losing most of the baby-face, even though there was still a hint of innocence that remained there.
And his eyes. Draco wasn't sure if it was possible, but he wondered if puberty could also affect eyes. Harry's eyes seemed more magnetic. More green, more unique, but definitely more magnetic as they turned to him. It was the only explanation Draco could think of to explain the unexpected bout of warmth that churned his stomach as those magnetic eyes focused on him.
"Draco?"
He blinked, breaking free of his thoughts. He blinked again when he realized he was staring.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He cleared his throat, then remembered his agenda. The box was still in his hand. "Happy birthday."
He expected a smile. If it hadn't appeared or been anything else, he would have been insulted. A smiled burst across the boy's face as he unwrapped his gift and took off the cover. But he didn't expect for that smile to be followed by laughter.
"What's so funny?" he demanded.
"Great minds think alike." At the confused expression on Draco's face, Harry unzipped his suitcase and tossed him a small package.
Figuring that it was his birthday gift, Draco eagerly tore through the wrappings and unveiled the surprise. His jaw dropped as he looked at the gift, then to Harry whose smile broadened, and at the present.
It was a simple sterling silver bracelet that was flashy but not over the top to be considered girly. It was beautiful but that wasn't the reason why his jaw dropped. It was the fact it was the exact same present he had gotten Harry, right down to the same engraving printed inside.
You'll be in my heart
Always yours, always mine.
Speechless, he looked up at Harry, who had taken his bracelet off from the box. A flood of emotions hit him, happiness taking lead and overshadowing the others. He felt his eyes stinging but no tears came. A good thing, too. The last thing he wanted was tears to ruin the moment.
He bit his lip and looked at his best friend. "You're mine?"
"Always," Harry smiled. "And you're mine?"
"Always."
He helped fasten the bracelet onto Harry's wrist. Harry had done the same with his, his eyes shining extra bright.
Both times pangs of sparks that burnt like fire shot through him, sending heated flutters down his stomach, as bare skin made contact with bare skin in the process of bracelet fastening.
Both times Draco ignored them, pushing them aside, focusing on the moment and Harry's smile. Though the smile seemed to have worsened the situation, increasing the warmth and speed of the strange flutters.
Diagon Alley had always been one of Draco's favorite spots in London. It consisted of great shops such as the bookshop, clothing stores, and of course the Quidditch shop where they displayed a new line of brooms; he may have dropped hints to his father on how much he'd appreciate the upgrade. There was also the ice-cream shop they usually shopped at after the shopping was done.
When their Hogwarts letter came in, containing a school list that was longer than the previous one, Father had taken them straight to Diagon Alley to do some shopping. They started out at Madame Malkin's, where they got fitted for more robes and cloaks. Just like last year, Draco got stabbed by her needles. Just like last year, he sneered at the seamstress to watch herself, Harry apologized for him and thanked her for her work, and Madame reserved a smile for Harry and a scowl for Draco.
"Well," Madame had said after she packed their robes. "I see you're still charming," She glared at the blonde, then her eyes moved over to Harry, her look softening. "Perhaps, this year you can rub off some of your manners onto your brother."
Draco sneered at her and pulled Harry out of the shop.
After Madame Malkin's, they stopped at the Apothecary for more potion supplies. Unfortunately. His eyes stung, tears streaming down his face, from the heavy fumes, and he was sure his nose was under a nostril-coma. But he did manage to find a few interesting supplies he planned to use on some of his classmates.
Weasley and Granger being two of them.
"Boys, why don't you go ahead to Flourish and Blotts? I need to make a quick stop somewhere."
The boys knew better than to question Lucius even though they were curious about where he had to go, and if it had to do with the small chest tucked under his arm.
The bookstore was already crowded with people. Mainly mothers, daughters, preteens, and reporters all here to see the "great" Gilderoy Lockhart for his book-signing.
"Unbelievable." Draco huffed as they elbowed their way inside. Countless dark glares were aimed at them and they ignored every one.
"Look, it could be worse."
Draco rolled his eyes. Harry may be Slytherin, but he still had Gryffindor tendencies.
"Harry!"
At the sound of the familiar voice, Harry's smile broadened. Draco's scowl deepened.
Granger, who had grown a bit, though her hair was still a bushy bird's nest, waved at them. Well, more so at Harry. Weasley was by her side, grinning like the idiot he was.
"Good to see you, mate."
Speaking of worse.
Thanks to the pair's big mouths, Lockhart caught sight of Harry and had his groupies pull the boy away from his friends over to him. He slung his arm around Harry like they were old friends, gaining admirance from the fans, more pictures from the press, and one particularly dark glare from a young Malfoy.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography-which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-" The crowd applauded again.
"He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving a little shake Harry that made his glasses slip a bit. His hold on the boy was extra tight, which increased the heat of Draco's glares. "that he would be shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have the great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
Him? Draco stared, stunned. From a stuttering, pathetic, crazed follower to a deranged peacock as their teacher. If he had any doubt that the old goat was losing it, this piece of news swept it away.
He wasn't the only one stunned. Harry was also caught off guard by the news. His mouth nearly dropped but he quickly caught it, just in time.
Lockhart sent Harry off with an armful of his entire collection of his work. Harry looked relieved to be free of the man.
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" Draco smirked. "Famous Harry Potter can't even go into a book-shop without making the front page."
Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco caught sight of the small smile hanging by the corner of his lips. He knew his best friend recognized the playful banter in the taunt.
The same couldn't be said for the little girl who jumped to Harry's defense, glaring at him.
"Leave him alone!"
What the hell…it didn't take long to figure out whom the girl belonged to or what she was, taking in the bright red hair and freckles.
A Weasley. Nope, even worse. A weaslette.
"Well, would you look at that?" Draco drawled, turning back to Harry. "You got yourself a girlfriend, Potter."
He couldn't explain the odd twinge that shot through him as he said that last comment, but the mortification on the girl's face almost made up for it. Her face became as bright as her hair.
"Ginny!"
Weasel decided to join in on the fun, racing over to them. He pulled his sister against him, glaring daggers at Draco. Granger wasn't too far behind, glaring at him as well.
"I knew I smelt something foul." Weasley scowled.
"Oh, so you're finally realizing you're long overdue for a bath, Weasley?"
"Ron, Draco," Harry warned. "Enough."
He smirked. Weasley growled at him.
"Now, now, now, Draco. Play nice. Although you're not exactly far from the truth."
Father stood behind them, his hands on Draco and Harry's shoulders, his face fixed in a sneer as he took in their guests.
A man with carrot-red hair walked up behind Weasel, placing his hand on the boy and girl's shoulders. "Lucius."
"Arthur."
So this was the idiot Father talked? And not just any idiot but the head of the Weasley clan.
"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Father said. "All those raids…I hope they are paying you overtime?"
He reached into the girl's cauldron and pulled out a very battered, old copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. He shook his head as he took in the book's poor condition. "Obviously not. What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't pay you enough for it?"
The head Weasel flushed darker than his son or daughter.
Harry glanced back and forth between the two, looking like he was unsure if he should step in. Draco made the decision for him, holding him back and shaking his head when his friend turned to him.
But…Harry's eyes said.
Draco shook his head. You remember what Father said? Act accordingly, his eyes told him. You don't want us to get a negative reaction, do you?
Harry looked into his eyes and then away, thinking on it. He then finally nodded, stepping back.
Draco had to hide his pleased smile, though it proved to be difficult especially as he watched how the elder Weasley was shaking in anger.
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy." he said.
Like father, like son; both horrible with comebacks.
"Clearly," Father said. His pale eyes strayed to Granger's parents who were watching the scene with nervous looks on their faces, as if they expected a fight to break out. "The company you keep, Weasley." He shook his head again. "And I thought your family could sink no lower. Come along, boys. We're going."
He dropped the tattered book back in the girl's cauldron, not seeing the tongue the weaselette stuck out at his retreating back.
"See you at school, guys." Harry told them.
Weasley nodded. Granger gave a soft smile, waving.
"Bye Harry."
"Always a displeasure, ferret."
"Ron!"
Growling, Draco couldn't get his best friend out of the store fast enough, practically dragging him out. He threw a glare at the pair, along with one to the Weaselette who continued to watch Harry.
If the scene at the bookstore was any indication on how the upcoming school year would be, then Draco wasn't sure if he was ready to see summer end just yet.
No joke. I wasn't sure if whether or not I should have added the father fight. It would be have something, but I didn't want to add too much. Plus, I can't see Lucius lowering himself to a public brawl. Still, even if there was no fight, I hope there was enough action and Drarry moments to satisfy you guys. I hoped you liked it. I can't believe how much love this story has gotten so far. I feel so loved :) Please continue on with the love. I love hearing from you guys so please review. I love hearing what you have to say. And in this one I want to know if I did ok enough addressing the fact Draco is really staring to notice his best friend. So tell me what you think
