Chapter Summary: Harry struggles with his condition, but finds some solace in the people around him.

AN: Hello! Thanks again to everyone who has read and commented! I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter and happy middle of the week.

After the Rain Falls
Chapter 4: Nip It in the Bud

Halloween arrived in what felt like the blink of an eye, and with it, The Hogwarts Ghost Celebration. It was an event meant to honour the ghosts of Hogwarts, and the role they played in the final battle, which was often overlooked. They could not fight, in a physical way of course, but they could travel quickly, shout warnings, and share valuable information. And they had, in droves.

The entire Great Hall had been redecorated in preparation, and much like for the Yule Ball, the celebration was grand in scale. There were guests from the Ministry, as well as many notable wizards and witches from across the globe who had fought or aided in the war.

For the students present, it was essentially an excuse for a party.

Harry felt largely uncomfortable. He had let a few of the girls in Gryffindor style him for the night after much insistence, highlighting the long loose curls in his hair and fitting him in a server outfit he personally felt was far too snug. He stood behind one of the food tables nervously, doing his absolute best to avoid the searching gazes of high ranking officials he'd much rather not have to engage in conversation with. It was why he had volunteered to be a server instead attending himself in the first place.

He glanced around the large room uneasily, taking in the various couples making out in hidden corners. It was late enough that just about everyone in attendance who could, had consumed enough firewhisky to become slightly tipsy, just enough to start making some rather questionable decisions.

"Ugh, disgusting, isn't it," Ginny complained as she slid in behind the service table beside him. She scraped the remnants of a platter into the garbage and then crossed her arms, staring over at the many couples making dopey eyes at one another. Ron and Hermione were dancing, if you could call it that, and blowing kisses at each other over their shoulders as they did. Ginny gagged slightly, and then turned towards Harry, reaching out to grab a lock of his hair. She twisted it between her fingers, then placed it elsewhere among his curls and stood back to give him a look. Harry shifted uneasily beneath her scrutiny. It took her a minute, but eventually she straightened his shirt and plucked a bit of baby's breath off the table display before tucking it into the glasses frame behind his ear. Harry felt his face redden in embarrassment.

"There, perfect," she said, gesturing wildly as though he was a sparkling star. Harry gave her an unimpressed look. "You look good, Harry," she insisted.

"I look a fool."

"No, you don't." She huffed and fell back against the wall behind them. "Ron's the one who looks a fool, in that ruffled taupe cloak. I tried to warn him," she ranted. "The colour of parchment," she mimicked in a faux deep voice. "Hermione will love it!"

She turned to him then and mimed retching all over the floor in front of her. Harry laughed lightly, pausing only as a group of Hufflepuffs approached the table for drinks. He scooped out several, handing them each off individually. Ernie Macmillan took his glass from him last, pausing to look Harry up and down before grinning at him oddly. Harry forced an awkward smile on his face and was glad when he finally stepped away.

He looked down and fiddled with his sleeve uncomfortably, then wrapped his arms around his waist. He really did look silly. Far too thin and knobbly for something so form fitting. He felt Ginny's eyes on him the entire time, watching carefully. She pulled him back to rest against the wall beside her, putting her arm around his shoulder before whispering in his ear. "You just need some confidence. All the boys would be all over you if you hadn't trapped yourself behind this table for the night."

Harry flushed and snorted, gaze flittering around nervously. "Impossible," he muttered. No one even knew. And it wasn't like he was about to tell anyone. At least not apart from his closest friends. He looked down and gently worried his lower lip. He was glad none of them had judged him for his preferences, though apparently such a thing was much more widely accepted among magic folk. Even then he could see Seamus and Dean flirting with each other fairly obviously at another end of the hall.

Ginny sighed, and moved away slightly, picking up a chocolate broomstick and munching on it loudly. "Ernie was eyeing you like a snack, Harry."

"He was not."

"Was so," she claimed. Then she jutted her chin out and nudged it to the side. "Look, he can't take his eyes off you, all the way across the damn room."

Harry caught his gaze briefly, and looked away in a hurry, shaking his head. "I'm not interested in him," he muttered. Ginny leaned back against the table then, eyeing him for a moment as she chewed on some kind of jellied doughnut.

After a moment she smirked, and then said, "Hm. Suppose not. You prefer someone a bit taller, a bit sharper around the edges, a bit…lighter blond, perhaps."

Harry frowned, glancing at her suspiciously. "I don't know what-," and then he winced as his head chose that moment to throb, and he reached up to press his fingers against his skull just over his brows.

Ginny pushed away from the table, stepping closer to him as she peered at him in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah…just…it's just a headache."

Harry dragged his fingers down over his eyes and sighed. The crowd was getting bigger, and the music louder. He dropped his arms to his sides as he watched the dancing grow more energetic. The pain in his head was a dull throb, but it would likely only get worse as the evening went on.

"Why don't you make an escape," Ginny suggested, and then she shooed him off with a wave of her hand. "Go on, I'll cover for you."

Harry sent her a grateful look, then mouthed 'thank you' as he slipped out from behind the table and made his way outside the Great Hall. He took a deep breath as the heavy doors shut behind him, feeling instant relief as the sounds from inside muted to a soft thrum. He walked out into the nearby courtyard quickly, intent on visiting one of the many secret rooms within the castle for some time alone. It was a particular secret he'd fallen upon by accident himself, not even marked on his map. He was confident that no one else knew of it.

He scurried through the Viaduct Bridge, nodding at the occasional passer-by, before making his way to the Serpentine Corridor that led up to the Divination Tower. Once he reached the fourth floor platform Harry rushed behind an archway, into a tiny corridor on the edge of the staircase, only to freeze when he saw Draco propped up gracefully on a ledge against the wall. They made eye contact, and Draco's eyebrows rose slightly as he studied Harry's frame.

"Oh, sorry," Harry muttered, glancing slightly towards the section of nondescript stones to his right. So close and yet so far. He lowered his head and let out a breath without meaning to before moving to leave.

"Want one?"

Draco's signature timbre caught him off guard, and Harry paused, turning to look at him curiously. Draco's hand was held out, some kind of sweet held within it, and Harry faltered in his steps, twisting to look at him in surprise. Draco eyed him impatiently, and eventually Harry inched closer, taking the item from him curiously. It looked like a bat, with a dark chocolate coating that was already starting to melt against his fingertips.

There was a time that Harry would never have accepted something like this from Draco, suspecting it poisoned, let alone considered consuming it. But as he watched Draco take another from the bag in his hand and bite the wing off, Harry did the same. It melted in his mouth, and a bold and rich flavour washed over his tongue.

"It's good," he commented, staring down at the flavoured goo that filled the treat.

"Black Cherry Bats. They're one of my favourites. These and Glacial Snowflakes," Draco commented. Harry felt his shoulders relax, and he took another small bite, this time savouring the taste a bit more. He realized belatedly that his headache had disappeared and Harry paused before letting out a soft laugh.

"Did you put something in it?" He asked.

Draco scowled and spat, "No Potter, they're not poisoned. I'm eating them too, are you daft?"

"I didn't mean that," Harry hurriedly explained. He realized belatedly that his question had sounded quite accusatory. "I meant like…healing magic, or something."

Draco stared at him and then scrunched up his face. "No, why?"

Harry ducked his head, fighting against the flush rising up his neck. "Never mind." He hurriedly shoved the rest of the chocolate into his mouth, licking the residue off his fingers carefully. When he glanced back up Draco was watching him fixedly. Harry took a moment to really regard him too, noting the very well-tailored dark shirt and pants, and his expensive cloak draped over the ledge at his side. He looked sharp.

"Why aren't you at the party? You look dressed for it," Harry asked. Draco shifted atop the stone, licking his lips before he put both his feet down on the ground and leaned forwards. He looked at Harry from head to toe, then his gaze settled on the small server pin at Harry's chest, and he reached out to flick it up, tickling at Harry's skin beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Why aren't you?"

Harry shifted uneasily, looking down towards his feet. He meant to answer, but instead only sighed, before meeting Draco's gaze with little more than a shrug. Draco's eyes shifted slightly, and he glanced to where the baby's breath was still sitting above Harry's ear. Harry had forgotten it was there, and nearly moved to pull it out, but the damage was done so he stood there motionlessly instead. He expected Draco to mock him, but he didn't say anything at all, just glanced back at his face before offering Harry another Black Cherry Bat. This time when Harry took it he sat down beside him.

The first Quidditch match of the year rolled around at the start of November. Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw. Harry wished he could say he was excited to watch. But instead, the thought of the season starting up combined with the knowledge that he was no longer on Gryffindor's team just hurt him far more than he cared to admit. He pretended to be overwhelmed with his studies the morning of the game, but in the end, slunk away to watch from beneath the newly renovated stands.

The pitch looked beautiful, even grander than before. Harry wanted more than anything to fly within it. He watched as the teams lined up for opening remarks, listened as the crowd roared in excitement. He caught sight of Draco standing tall in the midst of Slytherin's line-up, looking confident and eager to play. The Quidditch uniform fit him like he'd drafted the pattern himself, and Harry watched him lift off in the air enviously.

Ravenclaw's seeker was decent, but no match for Draco, and though the rest of Ravenclaw's team played well, the game ended quickly with Slytherin in the lead by 130 points once Draco caught the snitch. He held it up between his fingers with a satisfied smirk, then lowered his broomstick to the ground and dismounted gracefully as the whistle was called.

The moment some of the students ran into the pitch to celebrate the win really sent everything crashing home, and Harry clenched his fingers against the wooden frame of the stands before pushing away and hurrying back towards the castle.

He absolutely needed to play. Gryffindor was in the next match, and he couldn't bear the thought of not being a part of it. He couldn't imagine hiding himself away beneath the stands again, watching as someone else flew in place of him. Surely he could convince McGonagall to make an exception, just for an hour, even. He had to try.

Harry was halfway to McGonagall's office when another seizure hit, catching him completely off guard. The halls were mercifully empty so soon after the match, and thankfully no one was around to see as he collapsed in a fit of jerking movements atop the stone. When he settled, it was propped up against the side of a suit of armour, the cold metal scraping against his back through his cloak. He choked on a laugh, reminded once again that playing was impossible for him. He slumped forwards and closed his eyes, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

"Harry?" The voice startled him, and Harry opened his eyes slowly, peering up at where Neville stood nearby. Then Neville hurried to his side, bending down in front of him. "Are you okay?"

"Mm, yeah."

There were some tremors still running through his arms, and he felt a bit wobbly and sore, but apart from that, it wasn't the worst he'd felt in recent days. He swallowed and breathed in through his nose, wishing he hadn't been found. But as he glanced up at Neville's concerned expression, he couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed.

"Did you…have-," Neville trailed off, gaze flitting about awkwardly as he struggled to continue. He may not have seen one of Harry's seizures in action yet, but everyone still knew they happened. And it was only a matter of time before he did.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Harry muttered quietly. Neville fell back slightly, but sat on his haunches and watched him with careful eyes. He'd changed so much since they first met back in first year. Had grown too. Finally found that confidence he'd always lacked. He was a good friend, always had been really.

Neville took a breath and opened his mouth to talk and Harry was worried he might pry further, but instead he asked, "Want to help me put up portraits in the sixth-floor corridor?" Harry blinked at him and then Neville ducked his head and rubbed at his hair sheepishly. "No one else volunteered," he said quietly. Harry considered the offer for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders and yanked himself up with a grunt.

"Sure. Why not."

He spent the rest of his afternoon listening to the Plumstead twins arguing about the placement of their frames on the wall. The two brothers, both painted in some of the gaudiest robes that Harry had ever seen, bickered incessantly, each trying to inch their way up to a slightly higher position on the wall. They couldn't seem to agree which of the two was the eldest, and thought that ought to be reflected in the display of their portraits. Once they were finally convinced of being placed at exactly the same height, their bickering moved on to alignment, as they complained of feeling tilted and on one occasion, nearly upside down in their frames.

Even Neville grew frustrated, pausing to let his head hang wearily between his shoulders. And Harry understood why no one had been excited for this particular job. Harry laughed and leaned wearily against the wall, and then Neville laughed along with him, while the twins ranted and chastised them for slacking off on the job.

It proved a good distraction, and Harry was grateful for Neville's quiet company despite the raucous chatter among the portraits.

It was after a particularly aggressive seizure that Harry found himself walking through the halls beneath his invisibility cloak towards the dungeons in the middle of the night. He simply couldn't do this anymore. There were bruises lining his arms and legs, from falling to the ground and hitting his surroundings. He'd vomited more times than he cared to admit as of late, and was starting to grow tired of spending his evenings leaning over the toilet in the common room's loo. His hands were shaking, incessantly. And he was exhausted, not having slept a wink for nearly an entire week straight. He needed it to end. Just a bit of a relief. Just a day. That's all he was asking for. A single day of peace.

Their potion was far from ready, but Draco and he had made their first test batches, based off their limited research of what ingredients might go well together and provide the results they were looking for. The work was surprisingly easy when his partner wasn't actively trying to sabotage him throughout it. Harry actually felt like he'd learned a thing or two as well. Which is why he knew what he was about to do was incredibly reckless.

But he was also incredibly desperate.

They needed to test their potion variations eventually anyway. And though they were technically supposed to be waiting for a few more days before doing so, and of course, not on humans as of yet, he figured, why not try it anyway? He was the perfect lab rat. After all, his affliction was exactly what they were trying to prevent.

Harry hurried down the hallway leading to the potions room, unlocking the door and peaking inside before slipping in. The portrait frames were thankfully empty, and Harry figured Snape had retired for the evening, to his more permanent portrait featured in the Headmaster's Office. Still, he walked through the room slowly, pulling his hood down and finally draping the invisibility cloak over the work bench before making his way to the storage room quietly.

It took him some time to find their samples, but once he did he set them up at their workstation and pulled out his notebook to verify the ingredients in each. Number nine was the one they both felt had the best chance of success, and he twisted the vial in the wooden rack nervously. He paused for a moment, second guessing what he was about to do. Even if he took the potion now, there was no way he would know for sure it worked, or even for how long. His seizures were far too unpredictable. But…if it could potentially get him through even a single day without one, it would be worth it. He pulled it from the rack and toyed with the seal.

"What are you doing?"

Harry started, nearly dropping the vial from his fingers as he whipped his head around towards the door. Draco stood there, arm resting against the frame as he leaned into it slightly, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"N-nothing," Harry stuttered, and he turned back around, dropping his hands quickly in front of his body.

"Doesn't look like nothing," Draco muttered. He sauntered into the room languidly, eventually coming to a stop in the aisle.

"You shouldn't be wandering the halls at this hour," Harry accused, and Draco raised an eyebrow at him judgementally in return.

"Ah right, only the great Harry Potter is provided the privilege of sneaking out of his dorms after hours."

"Shut up," Harry blurted. He looked down at his fingers, fiddled with the glass vial between them, mind racing as he tried to figure out how to take it now that Draco had spotted him. It was probably impossible to do so unnoticed. When Draco inched closer, Harry tensed and pulled free the seal as carefully as he could.

"Is that part of our project?" Draco asked, and then he glanced towards the rack, likely noticing the missing vial, and his gaze hardened as he quickened his steps. "If you contaminate our samples Potter-,"

Harry chose that moment to raise the vial to his mouth, hoping to drink the contents in a single swift movement. But Draco shouted and lunged at him with wide eyes.

"Potter!"

He swatted the vial out of Harry's hand, and it crashed atop the table, the contents seeping atop the wood and beginning to smoke. It fizzled as it sank into the desk, and Harry wavered as he watched the wood begin to dissolve beneath the liquid, leaving behind nothing more than a discoloured and rotted out slimy texture.

"Are you stupid?" Draco hissed, reaching out to grab him by his collar. "Our formula isn't even remotely close to being acceptable for human trials." Harry stared at him with wide eyes and Draco sneered and threw him back away from the table, knocking his stool off to the side. "Complete and utter dumbass." He pushed Harry further away, inspecting the damage from a distance before he moved the rest of their samples safely off to the side. "We're still in the early testing stages. We don't even know what ingredients are reacting poorly to each other. That's why we have a stabilizing period to begin with," Draco ranted, and then he turned to look at Harry and gestured at the table. "We would have walked into class next week to find this one far too volatile to consider, and you almost put this shit in your body. I bet you didn't even use a toxicity detection spell!"

Harry stood stunned for a moment, staring at the decayed remains of the work table, and then muttered under his breath, "It was our best prospect."

Draco must have heard him, because he shook his head and crossed his arms. "Yeah, well now it's not." He sighed and stepped closer, lifting up Harry's arms and checking to make sure nothing had splattered on his clothes. Once satisfied, he dropped them and stared down at him intensely. "Why are you rushing it? Even you are smarter than this."

A quick glance back at the table left Harry reeling. He…he hadn't been thinking clearly. He'd nearly made a terrible mistake. His eyes burned but he closed them tightly and willed himself not to cry before sitting down with a heavy sigh. He lowered his head, staring at his lap listlessly. "I'm just tired."

It was true. He was more than tired. And as Draco stared at him, he knew he looked it too. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he was ragged around the edges, his already slim form thinning even more.

"Potter, give it some time," Draco said, tone significantly softer than before. "We've barely scratched the surface. We'll get it right, but you can't expect overnight results."

At that Harry squeezed his eyes shut and slapped his hands against his knees in frustration. "It's been over two months!"

"Two months is nothing!" Draco shouted at him. Harry breathed in quickly, looking up at him in surprise. "It can take years to develop something like this."

Years. Harry didn't have years. If it went on that long, he might never fly again. His jaw tightened and his vision blurred as his eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Oh for crying out loud, stop looking so damn pitiful," Draco snarled. He took a deep breath and walked way for a moment before turning back around. "Look, sometimes failure can be a good thing."

"That's rich coming from you."

Draco glared at him, and then he stepped right up to Harry before bending down low to look him in the eyes. "It's a hard earned lesson," he spat. The words hung heavy in the air for some time. A gentle reminder that Draco was well aware of the mistakes he had made and what had resulted from them. He eyed Harry carefully, and then stood back up, running his fingers through his hair with a sigh. "Now we know what not to do, and that is valuable information."

He turned then pulling his wand out of the folds of his cloak before walking back towards the mess of their work table. "Help me clean-up and rebrew another. If we fail our first quarter presentation because of you I'm burning you at a stake," Draco drawled. "And take a sample, of whatever…that is it left behind. Ugh, we have to fix the table too. Snape will have a fit."

Harry blinked at him drowsily, but finally pushed himself up and got to work. It took them some time to brew another sample, but they worked together seamlessly, Draco chopping their ingredients into precise measurements while he told Harry what order to add them in. At some point along the way, Draco tugged Harry's notebook across the table, scratching down a few notes about what had happened as well as the additions they made to their newest and final sample.

When they finished, Harry slotted away the final vial, and twisted it into place carefully. He glanced at Draco then looked away, tapping his fingers unconsciously atop the table. "They're getting more frequent, and more aggressive," he mentioned. Then added as an afterthought, "The seizures."

Draco paused in his writing, and turned to look at him as he bottled his ink. "How many have you had since the start of the year?" he asked. Harry didn't answer. He just stared ahead, rubbing at his wrist a bit roughly. Draco frowned and yanked one of his hands closer, studying the visible tremors before sliding his sleeve up enough to see bruising. His expression shifted oddly and Harry pulled his hand away from him quickly. "Potter, how many?" He asked again, and Harry withered beneath his serious gaze.

"I'm not sure. Thirty, forty, maybe more," Harry muttered. Truth be told, he was lucky to get through a day without one, and on one particularly fine day there had been three.

Draco sat back, crossing his arms and putting a hand to his chin in thought. "Can you tell, before they happen? Are there advance symptoms?" Harry just shook his head. Draco kept watching him, deep in thought, before narrowing his eyes and standing up. "We'll figure it out. But not tonight," Draco said calmly.

It felt like a promise, and Harry stared after him as Draco picked up one rack of vials to make his way to the storage room. Harry hurried to grab the other, walking just behind him, and he handed it off to Draco to slot back on the proper shelf. Before Harry had a chance to escape, Draco yanked two Dreamless Sleep Potions off one of the upper shelves, tucking one away in his robes before passing the other to Harry. "Take this and get some actual sleep for once. The exhaustion's probably not helping you any," he said.

"Stealing? From the potion's master? Really, Malfoy?" Harry teased and he was surprised when Draco smirked at him, leaning against the shelves as he looked down at Harry mischievously.

"Like you've never done it."

Harry ducked his head and gripped the vial tightly in his palm. His silence was an admission.

As the two of them walked back through the Dungeon Hall, Draco paused as he made to split off towards the Slytherin Common Room. "Take the Stone Bridge staircase if you want to avoid getting caught. Slytherin's prefects are on duty tonight at the Main Dungeon Entrance," Draco advised. He looked away for a moment, before shoving his hands into his pockets.

Harry fiddled with his cloak where it rest over his arm, fingers tightening in the fabric as he considered Draco's advice. "Not going to turn me in?"

"I'm not a prefect anymore," Draco commented. "All that would do is land us both in detention." And then he paused, tilting his head to the side in consideration. "Another lesson once learned." He stared at Harry, and then turned, making his way off with a single wave.

His words brought back memories, from simpler times, when Harry had little else to worry about apart from first year school assignments and the occasional troll. Harry smiled slightly as he watched him stroll away, feeling significantly lighter than he had earlier in the night. He was tired, and he was sore, but the tension in his body had lessened, and his mind felt at ease. Harry heeded Draco's words, following the staircase up to the Stone Bridge, his invisibility cloak left forgotten where it was draped over his arm.

AN: Thanks for reading! Apologies if I've missed things while editing, it's quite late and I have a tendency to skip lines while proofreading if I'm tired .