CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
[Fire And The Flood]
HARRY
Settling back into Hogwarts was harder than Harry had initially thought. The last week before term felt as if it was an entire lifetime set in a different universe. Almost as if he was living two lives and now having to balance them out. That is if Draco would stop ignoring him other than when he was spelling the curse still. Even then he would do it as quickly as possible with little to no words.
There was the Dursley's too. He had felt like he was running on pure air for the first couple minutes leaving Dumbledor's office. Unstoppable as if nothing could do him harm anymore if he had managed to go against his uncle. He cried tears of joy even. Of course, that hadn't lasted long. Fifteen years of neglect and punishments easily caught up and left him having a panic attack in his dorm later that night. Ron had freaked out and Harry had to stop him from calling Mcgonagall thinking it had something to do with Voldemort. It hurt lying to his best friend but there was just something he just wouldn't understand.
He stared at Draco from the other side of the Great Hall. Unsurprisingly he yet had found the right time to inform Draco of the news. The git was entirely too frustrating sometimes for his own good. He was perfectly fine on the train! Something had to have happened and that worried Harry enough to almost diminish his anger.
"Malfoy's gone lost his mind, you think?"
Harry's eyes divert back to Ron sitting in front of him with a piece of toast halfway in his mouth.
"What?"
"He hasn't tried anything so far and it's been a week. You think he's up to something?"
Hermione scoffed to the side of him. "Ron you're sixteen. Grow up. He's probably just stressed- We're in our Newt level classes now and you know the work is harder. Professor Slughorn is already giving us a test on the regeneration abilities of starfish on Monday and it's only been four days!"
"Yeah right," Ron says, rolling his eyes. "He's probably just busy trying to kiss You-Know-Who's behind and doing what his daddy tells him to do."
"Ronald!"
"Don't try and deny it! You know just as well as I do as soon as he graduates he'll be joining his father like the little suck-up he is. Why are you defending him anyways, 'Mione? He called you a mudblood!"
Hermione huffs. "When we were twelve. People can change. And besides, you can't just go around accusing people of being death eaters!"
"We saw his dad at the ministry last year! When have you ever known Malfoy to be different?"
Harry shoves a bite of sausage into his mouth trying not to intervene and say something he'll regret. Draco wasn't a death eater. The image of him withering on the floor under his father flashed in his head and sent a shiver up his spine. He had openly defied his father and spat at his feet. That was...brave. It was a conscious choice he had made despite knowing the repercussions. He cared too. And he loved. Grieved. His reaction to Bramble's death had taught him that. Most of all though he was human. Draco was different. So so so different than anyone could ever have imagined him to be and it was frustrating, to say the least, to see them making him out like some faceless monster.
But he couldn't do anything, could he? He had made a deal even if he was defending them to be inconspicuous. He sighed and tightened his grip on his fork. When did he become the world's leading expert on Draco Malfoy?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blonde whisper something to Zabini then stand up and head towards the exit. His face was drawn subtle enough most wouldn't be able to guess what he was feeling. Harry was no exception; he'd just been looking for something and now he had found it.
"I need to use the restroom real quick." Harry suddenly blurts cutting his two bickering best friends off. "I'll see you in herbology."
He couldn't follow Draco outright without looking suspicious. Harry shoves the essay he's been working on in his bag and gives the other a couple seconds headstart. He needed to know what had crawled up the Slytherin's arse to cause him to ignore Harry.
The corridor directly outside of the hall was empty besides a couple of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs fluttering about so it made it easy to catch up. Draco was taller than him though. His strides were painfully deliberate enough for Harry to know he didn't want to talk. Harry didn't care; one minute the boy was smiling and the next he was flashing cold smirks. That wasn't fair.
"Draco! Draco, wait." He reaches out and grabs his boney wrist. Draco jerks back as if he's been burned and turns around to glare at the Gryffindor.
"What do you want, Potter?" The words leave his mouth with traces of venom despite the vacancy of such on his face. Harry falters, surprised. Draco's real emotions only showed through his voice, so what had done to warrant such hatred?
He looked worse than when he saw him last. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was more disheveled than usual despite the gel. His uniform was a mess as well. The tie was loosely hung off his unstraightened color and his robes, which had never been seen before on a Slytherin, were wrinkled.
"Are you alright?"
"I don't- what?"
"I asked if you're alright."
"...oh." He says lamely like a deflated balloon. He could tell the other was expecting a fight.
"Are you?"
"It doesn't concern you."
"Uh, I'm pretty sure it does. I told you I didn't want to stop talking to you once we went back to Hogwarts and instead you took the liberty of doing the opposite. You aren't getting away that easy, prat. Why won't you talk to me? Did something happen?"
Draco stares at him as if he couldn't believe Harry was asking such a question. Harry stares back despite the ice starting to line his stomach again. The early morning light from the windows above caused his eyes to form a light dew, scattering nascent rays, illuminating everything but what he was actually thinking. It was nerve-racking.
Draco breaks it to stare down the hallway behind Harry's shoulder to make sure they were alone. "I'm fine. I'm just tired."
"That doesn't explain why you're ignoring me."
"When am I supposed to talk to you?" Draco responds, narrowing his eyes. "You're always with your damned Gryfindor friends. It's hard enough trying to avoid them all when pulling you into random classrooms to fixed your stupid fucking curse-"
"You don't even look me int the eye alone speak to me then."
"Then go to the nurse."
"No!"
"Stop being selfish!" He nearly growls. "If not for me, for your friends. Fixing you is bloody exhausting. I'm the one who's going to have the blood on my hands if you don't come to your senses!"
Harry clenched his teeth then took a deep breath through his nose. He had asked so he had no right to get mad. A part of him knew Draco had a point; had it been the other way around he could be riddled with anxiety. Still, Draco didn't seem to understand how much panic it would cause if it got out. He had caused so much chaos already.
"Look, I'm sorry, but no one can know. Please. You don't understand."
Draco shakes his head and pokes a finger into Harry's shoulder. "I think I do. It's you who doesn't. Do you even know what kind of situation you're putting me in?"
"We're both in unfortunate circumstances."
"No, you're not. You can fix everything easily, you're just being a coward."
Harry grabs his wand from inside his robe causing the other to take a step back.
"I don't want to fight Malfoy... Just teach me the spells then. I'll get someone else to do them. Just don't tell Madam Pomfrey."
Draco glares. "You know that's not going to work. You need to get cured. You can't hide it forever. You'll die."
"I know and I won't. I've been researching it… I'll find something. I'm sure of it."
The Slytherin didn't look very convinced. "Fine. I'll give you the spells only because they're running me dry on my energy. But if you don't go to the hospital wing by next week they'll be given an anonymous tip."
"That's no fair!"
"That absolutely is fair. It's a dark curse, we have no idea what it's capable of." He opens the top of the messenger style bag and brings out a worn grey book. "I've already dog-eared the pages you need. Don't destroy it. It's my only copy."
Harry reaches out to grab it but Draco's robe sleeve slips down slightly. He almost drops the fragile book in shock.
"Who the hell did that?" Harry asks but Draco was already shoving his hands in his pockets.
His forearm was covered in dark red blisters, all roughly swollen to the size of a sickle. They looked excruciatingly painful and it made Harry's stomach feel uneasy.
"Slytherin's don't take kindly to traitors."
DRACO
"Erumpents don't attack unless provoked, but the results are usually pretty bad when ya do. T'ere quite gentle creatures 'onestly. The horn can pierce 'yer skin and metal, and the horn contains a deadly fluid that caused whatever was injected 'ith it to 'xplode. There were rare occasions when the injected object or being did not 'xplode-"
Draco ignored his professor in exchange for trying to ward off in the sweltering heat from the sun. All the cooling charms he'd tried to cast all had been pitiful due to his exhaustion. Any hopes that this class would have been better due to the lack of practicality of it had been quickly diminished. He would do anything to just be in astronomy instead of at the moment. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with Harry's pestering stares.
He was a good couple meters away from the other Slytherin's though he could still hear their conversation. Something about Longbottom and his fiasco in transfiguration yesterday morning. Despite his housemates' recent rejection of him, they still refused to let themselves seem weak from the outside and decided that all hexes and glares were reserved for dungeons only.
Draco could hardly find a break. Between researching the stupid curse, his increasing drain of magic from the healing spells, dealing with the Slytherin's, his father's lack of appearance, and his N.E.W.T classes he virtually had no time to himself. He wanted to kick Harry's stupid face in. Half the time he couldn't get any of it done anyways worrying about him as well! Even after the confrontation in the hallway, he refused to seek help. They had no idea what that curse was! He could drop dead any second and it would all be Draco's fault.
There's a sharp elbow jab into his side. "Draco, what do you think?"
Pansy was the only Slytherin, besides occasionally Blasie, who was still talking to him. That didn't mean he wanted her though. They'd been friends since third year when Draco was still on his ego trip. It was obvious the only reason she was staying around now was that she thought all the rumors were just Draco planning something big. And she wanted to be the first person on board. That or she really was trying to comfort him, but even Abbot wasn't that stupid.
Draco rubbed his eyes and looked towards her. Her usual chin-length black hair was pulled back with an intricate silver headband and her anti-run makeup usually made her the golden apple of the boys around school. They had dated briefly in their fourth year, another thing done to please his parents, before she had confessed her interest laid somewhere else. That being a particular Rosalind Nettles that was in her fifth year. He was the only one who knew her secret. Draco had hoped the fact that she would be killed by the Dark Lord if he ever found out would have been enough to scare away from joining her parents but apparently, that was just another thing he was wrong about. The pureblood fantasies drilled into her were just too powerful.
"What?"
"Hexing that know-it-all mudblood's teeth back? Say, I don't think her current ones fit her very well. If she wants her hair to resemble a chipmunk's backside she might as well finish the look."
"Pansy-"
"Besides, it's been a while since any of those nasty Gryffindor's got a taste of their own medicine."
Draco shook his head looking down at his near blank parchment for taking notes. There was no point fighting with someone who wasn't going to listen. His father was a prime example of that. He was starting to wish Blasie had taken magical creatures with him instead of arithmancy. He'd take the brooding silence over her gossip any day.
"They haven't done anything."
"It's not about that. It's always about being one step ahead."
He internally groaned and laid his head on his knees. There was no escape.
"What is with you Draco? You haven't been the same since term started." She looks around nervously before continuing. "Is it about the Dark Lord? Did your parents tell you something?"
The quill in his hand snaps.
The first thing he notices is the pain. On instinct, he dropped the splintered ends and reached out to grab his wrist with his other hand only to forget about the hexed blisters and yelps again.
He looks down at it. It looked just bad as it hurt. The bottom half of the shaft was still lodged in between his thumb and index finger. He couldn't see how deep it was with the mix of ink and blood trailing down from it.
"Fuck," He whispers under his breath. Everyone in the class was looking at him now with stupid wide eyes. His naturally sought out Harry's in the crowd who looked ready to jump out his chair.
"'Alfoy, off to the hospital wing! Parkinson go with him. Both of yer' are 'xcused." Professor Hagrid announces, no doubt remembering the accident from two years ago. He stands protectively in front of the magical creature.
"I don't need anyone to go with me. I can go alone. I'm not four." Draco hisses. Nonetheless, he starts shoving his paper and remains of the never-inking-ink quill inside his bag with his free hands. Pansy tries to help but he sends her a glare telling her to back off.
Draco's shirt sleeve was starting to get stained in several places as he started back up to the castle. He tries to cast a scourgify but the imaginary bristles only further deepen the wound.
Great, he thinks. My last clean dress shirt.
