Chapter Four: Strange First Night
Harry scanned over his potions essay, frustrated with the amount of homework Snape had assigned them, and showed it to Hermione.
"I still don't get this part," he said pointing to a paragraph in Hermione's own essay.
"Harry, what's not to get? All you have to do is add the powdered pig ears into the mix after you've added the tsetse fly wings, but before you've put in the doxy hair," she said for the fifth time.
"So the doxy hair comes before the ears- right?" asked Harry scratching his head.
"No the hair comes after," she said becoming frustrated with Harry.
Ron suddenly sat up and rubbed his eyes. (He had been dosing off.) He looked at his wristwatch, a present from his dad last birthday, and threw down his quill and parchment.
"I think we ought to go to dessert, after we've had dinner, but before we finish our homework," he said standing and stretching. "C'mon guys I'm starved."
Hermione shot him an exasperated look. "And you wonder why your marks aren't good?" she said, putting her things into her bag.
"My marks aren't bad," Ron said fairly. "I am a prefect, and you have to have good marks to be one. That's why Fred and George never became prefects." Hermione let out a snort.
"Oh please," she said, "Fred and George never became prefects because they blew up a bathroom at least once a month." Ron shrugged.
The trio had been in the Head's quarters all day. After lying on Harry's bed and talking for half an hour, Hermione had suggested they get to their homework. Harry and Ron had agreed reluctantly and they all had moved down onto Harry's couch.
It was now 7:00 and Malfoy still hadn't shown up. Lucky for them too, because things were going so smoothly- besides the occasional, and ever present, Hermione-Ron squabble.
Harry, now that he thought of it, was hungry too and his stomach gave a grumble. He also put his homework and quill back into his bag and then threw it onto his new desk.
"I'll help you with the rest of your work tomorrow, Harry," Hermione told him as she joined him and Ron as they moved toward the door.
Harry nodded and reached for the doorknob, but as his fingers closed around it, it turned and he was face to face with Malfoy.
Both boys were momentarily surprised but then Malfoy regained his composure and pushed Harry out of his way. Harry's gaze followed him, an urgent part of him wanting to go up behind Malfoy and kick him hard in the shins, but at the last second he decided against it. Instead he watched Malfoy until he was up his staircase and out of sight.
"Arsehole," Ron muttered under his breath, as they moved out into the corridor, making their way down to the Great Hall.
Dinner was a well-deserved break from the hustle and bustle of the day and Harry took his time eating the delicious food. He knew what would be waiting for him back in his room. Hopefully he would be able to get to bed without a hitch, but being that Malfoy was his roommate, he seriously doubted it.
"Do you think you'll last, Harry?" Ron asked him suddenly, coming off a conversation with Dean.
"What are you talking about?" said Harry confusedly.
"Do you think you'll last?" Ron repeated. "You know, with Malfoy and all."
Harry looked at Ron disdainfully. Ron was his best mate but that didn't stop him from sometimes saying the most random, stupid, things in the world.
"Last in what way?" Harry asked looking over to the Slytherin table to see if Malfoy was there. He wasn't though and neither was Zabini. They were both most likely up in the room, which meant that Harry might have to deal with both Zabini and Malfoy. It wasn't a prospect Harry was looking forward to.
"Do you think you'll be able to pull off another one of those passive resistance things you pulled off when Malfoy pushed you? I know that if it'd been me, I would've pounced on him."
Harry shrugged. In truth, he also wondered what kind of willpower inside of him had kept him from doing what he so dearly wanted to do: crush Malfoy into a million tiny pieces and then feed them to Hedwig.
Hermione tutted from across the table. She was looking at Ron crossly and Harry could sense an infamous argument about to happen.
"Of course Harry has more self control then you do! Who pulls you away from Malfoy every five seconds? You start things all the time, Ron," she said putting a forkful of mashed potatoes in her mouth.
"Harry fought with him so much last year that I lost count, Hermione!" Ron said hotly in retaliation.
"That was because Malfoy was using the most horrible, personal, hurtful things as insults!"
"Oh and the things he said to me were about bunnies and marshmallows were they?"
Harry stood up and blew heavily out of his mouth. He had had enough, which usually didn't happen much.
"See you guys tomorrow," he said leaving the table, but Ron and Hermione didn't even acknowledge him as he strode off out the Hall.
Harry wished dearly that Ron would ask Hermione out like Harry knew he wanted to. Then perhaps he could enjoy some silence every once in awhile.
He walked down the complicated path up to his dorm alone, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. It was times like these, when he was alone that he would begin to think about things that he tried to keep his mind away from. The wound that had been caused by Sirius's death had definitely healed considerably since fifth year, but it would never completely heal up, and then there was the prophecy that ensured Harry that he would have to become a murderer or be murdered himself. He tried not to think of these things, he really did, but he couldn't help it. They haunted his dreams and made him fear for his own life and the lives of those he loved.
The previous year Harry had tried to distance himself from his friends to try and keep them safe, but that had proved next to impossible. Both Ron and Hermione, and Ron's entire family for that matter, had claimed that they would be with Harry even if they had to chain themselves to him, and so Harry had given up and had gone to the next extreme: he stayed as close as possible to his friends, somehow feeling that if Voldemort were to swoop down on them he would be there to sacrifice himself.
By the time he had reached his room Harry was completely wrapped up in his own thoughts and not at all in the mood to be faced with Malfoy. He opened the door with a slight frown upon his face. When he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him he saw that Malfoy was sitting on the Slytherin couch with Zabini by his side. The two of them looked up as Harry entered.
"Oh shit," Harry said quietly under his breath.
"What was that Potter?" Malfoy asked, giving Zabini 'his' smirk.
Harry rolled his eyes and began to make his way across the room, wanting nothing more then to collapse into bed, however it seemed as though Malfoy had other things in mind.
He got up off the couch and sauntered over to block Harry's way up the stairs. He was obviously showing off in front of Zabini. Harry was already tense enough from his previous thoughts and even tenser when it came to Malfoy; clearly remembering being pushed up against the wall earlier that day and then pushed a few times throughout.
"Get out of my way," Harry said slowly and dangerously, assuring that Ferret caught every word.
Malfoy simply smiled wider and said, "And if I don't?"
Harry was really getting pissed off. "Then I'll just throw you out of my way," he said in the same slow tone.
Malfoy actually had the audacity to laugh in Harry's face, who practically fumed before him. So with no other options left to his anger riddled mind, Harry grabbed Malfoy by the front of his robes and threw him out of his way just like he said he would. Malfoy landed in a heap on the floor and Zabini jumped to his feet.
Harry, feeling triumphant, made it up three steps before two pale hands grabbed him from behind and forcefully pulled him back down the stairs.
Okay, Harry thought to himself as he regained his composure, If that's how he wants it then I'm happy to oblige, and then quite suddenly Harry and Malfoy were a tangled mass of limbs flailing about on the ground.
Zabini rushed over and stood a few feet away from the fight, apparently not knowing whether to join in with his friend or keep his distance in order to spare himself a black eye.
It was so satisfying to relieve stress in the form of a few well aimed punches, so very, very satisfying.
Harry had Malfoy around the neck and was trying to get him in a headlock. Malfoy was kneeing Harry in the stomach, attempting to throw him off and cause as much pain as he could in the process. Both boys were putting up a fair fight, each being about the same height and weight, completely forgetting their wands in the total bliss of pounding on each other.
Harry was completely oblivious to everything around him except for Malfoy who was still thrashing beneath him. He could vaguely hear Zabini shouting, "Oh shit! Oh fuck!" and then another voice, panic-stricken, shouting, "PULL THEM APART, PULL THEM APART!"
A minute later two arms were grabbing at the waist of Harry's robes and once they got a firm grip, threw him off of Malfoy. Scrambling to prepare for the next attack, Harry spun around, finally noticing that Ron and Hermione were in the room too.
Ron was staring down at him as he lay on the floor, a look of exertion on his freckled face. It must've been him who had thrown Harry.
"Bloody hell, Harry!" he exclaimed.
Harry sat up and wiped the blood from his face. More trickled out from his cut lip. He looked over at Malfoy who didn't look much better than himself. He was glaring at Harry and was sporting a bleeding nose and rather disheveled hair.
"Harry, what were you thinking?" Hermione demanded. Harry looked at her. She was pink in the face and looked quite frantic. "You both need to get up to the hospital wing, you're bleeding!"
"No!" Malfoy shouted suddenly, standing up. "We'll be killed if the teachers find out we were fighting! Don't you dare go to the hospital wing, Potter!"
Hermione glared at him. "But you're bleeding-" she began, but Harry cut her off. As much as he wanted to go to the hospital wing just because Malfoy had said not to, he knew that the blond was right. The staff couldn't find out, especially now that Harry and Malfoy were Head Boys, Harry didn't want to disappoint Dumbledore on the first night of the job.
"No, we can't go to the hospital wing, we will get killed, besides it's only a cut lip- I can deal." Ron then leant a hand to pull Harry to his feet.
"As can I," Malfoy said indignantly.
"Oh shut up, Ferret," Ron said as he helped Harry brush off his robes.
Malfoy let out an incensed sound, taking a step toward Ron, but Hermione stepped in-between them.
"I will not stand here and watch another fight!" she said angrily. "You two," she pointed at Harry and Malfoy, "are Head Boy! You're a prefect," she rounded on Ron, "And we're all seventh years and so you should all know better!"
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Shut up, Mudblood," he spat and this time Harry lunged towards him.
"NO!" Hermione shouted. "Stop, stop, stop! Harry, he's not worth it so just stop!"
Harry's brows knitted together in frustration. "How the hell did you two end up in here anyway?" he asked Ron and Hermione, folding his arms in front of him.
"We looked up from dinner and you weren't there, mate," said Ron. "You didn't even tell us you were going anywhere."
"Yes I did, I said goodbye to both of you but you didn't notice because…" Harry turned to Hermione, "you were fighting."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "We were arguing not fighting, and besides are you saying that you'd have preferred it if Ron and I hadn't broken you up so that you could get hurt enough that you had to go to the hospital wing?"
Harry pursed his lips and said nothing, knowing that she was right.
"That's what I thought," she said calmly but with a smug undertone. "Now," she continued in a business like voice, "Ron and I came up here to tell you goodnight, but now I'm not so sure if we should leave you two alone."
"You have to leave," came Malfoy's stuck-up response. "You aren't allowed to stay here and you certainly won't be staying here."
Ron and Hermione gave him narrowed-eye looks but Harry merely frowned. Malfoy was right, no matter how much Harry wished his friends could stay.
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione and led them over toward the Gryffindor entrance, throwing Malfoy a dirty look over his shoulder. Malfoy seemed pleased that Harry was escorting his friends in the direction of their exit after what he had just said.
"I'll be fine," Harry said quietly once the three friends had reached the door, "You guys can just head up to bed- it's getting near curfew and I don't want Malfoy giving you guys detention, because he will.
"But Harry, I don't want you two to start anything again," Hermione said worriedly.
"You sound like my mum, Hermione," Ron cut in, throwing Harry a small grin. "I know you can handle it, mate and I don't want detention, so Hermione, let's go."
Harry gave him a grateful look and Ron grabbed Hermione by the arm to pull her to the door.
"Let's just wait until Blaise leaves," she whispered furiously and Ron rolled his eyes but ceased his pulling.
Harry shook his head at Hermione and leaned against the wall, wondering when he had stopped being seventeen and started being five.
They ended up not having to wait long for Zabini to leave. Only two minutes of small talk had happened before the black-haired boy was nearly beside them and leaving out the Slytherin entrance. He threw Harry, Ron, and Hermione a scathing look as he left, but he didn't say anything. Malfoy was still standing over where he had been, looking quite the fool with dried blood on his face.
"Okay Hermione, can we go now?" asked Ron exasperatedly.
"Yes I suppose so… Harry are you sure you-"
"Yes Hermione I'm sure. Your concern is appreciated but I really am tired."
Ron grabbed her by her arm again. "Night, Harry," he called over her head.
"Yes goodnight, Harry and go straight up to bed!" Hermione said before the door was shut behind her and a pressing silence filled the room.
Harry turned to find Malfoy still standing in the same spot with a loathsome look on his face.
"What?" he asked irritably. Harry ignored him and moved across the room to climb the stairs and go to bed.
Merlin, what a year it was going to be.
Once upstairs, he threw off his shoes and socks and pulled off his clothes. He didn't feel like finding pajamas as the stress of the day finally hit him full force. He just wanted to get underneath the undoubtedly comfortable bed coverings and sleep.
Just as he had kicked all of his clothes to the side of his bed the door that led into Malfoy's room sprung open.
Harry's eyes widened and he stood bolt upright. Malfoy stared him down for a second before his eyes went wide with shock.
"Oh," he said, seeming caught off guard. "I didn't know this led into your room." He took a small step back but remained in the doorway.
Harry didn't really mind Malfoy seeing him in his boxers; they were close to, if not the same thing as swim trunks. It was the fact that Malfoy had startled him that made him angry and that he really wanted nothing to do with him at the moment.
"Well, get out!" Harry yelled looking furious.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes and made a rude hand gesture, but indeed pulled the door shut.
No sooner had Harry got himself together and settled again, when quite suddenly a tremendous uproar sounded from the opposite room. Harry jumped again as Malfoy stormed in, clearly angry about something.
"POTTER!" he shouted, sounding just like the Potions Master. "THERE IS NO LOCK ON THIS DOOR!"
Harry raised his eyebrows. Why on earth was Malfoy yelling at him?
"Well spotted." Harry said moving to sit on his bed. As he climbed atop it he continued, "No wonder you're the Slytherin Seeker."
Malfoy was fuming. Harry thought steam might come flying out his ears any second.
"How does that imbecile of a man expect me to sleep feeling safe, with bloody fucking Harry Potter right next to me, able to get into my room at any hour of the night?"
Harry shrugged and held down a snort.
"Perhaps he did it on purpose so that you couldn't sleep?" He laughed enjoying his control over Malfoy's rage. The blond crossed his arms and looked at Harry sitting in bed as if he were a bug he wished to step on which, Harry reminded himself, was probably true.
"I don't know why you're so cool with it," he said, his sulky looking face now splitting into an evil grin. "How do you know that I won't come into your room in the middle of the night?"
"Because if you do then you'll be extremely sorry that you did," Harry said angrily.
Malfoy let out a small derisive laugh and took a step towards Harry and Harry wondered if he should prepare for another attack. He wasn't at all afraid of Malfoy, but being faced with a fully clothed person, which would mean a better armored person, was making him a bit nervous. He pulled up his covers but stayed sitting up.
Malfoy took a few more steps towards Harry but halfway to his bed he seemed to change his mind.
"Have it your way then, Potter," he said, shooting Harry one last angry look before heading back to his own room, and slammed the door shut behind him.
Harry immediately jumped up, dragged his trunk over to the door, and cast a spell on it to make it as heavy as a boulder.
Feeling a considerable amount better, Harry returned to his bed. He burrowed down under his duvet, and finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
Harry woke up drenched in cold sweat, a popular scene for him. He sat up and took heavy unsteady breaths. Not another nightmare, he thought to himself. It took him a moment to calm completely down.
He tried to remember what the dream had been about. There had been blood, had it been him that was injured? He couldn't remember. There had been something that he was supposed to find, or save, or at least something along those lines- but what had it been? He couldn't remember anything.
Harry pondered his dream for a moment longer, but when nothing came to mind he sighed, exasperated, knowing from previous experience that he would never be able to remember. He leaned back into his pillows and attempted to try and fall back to sleep but failed miserably.
Groaning and getting to his feet, he pulled on his bath robe and descended the stairs deciding that he wanted some pumpkin juice.
Draco was wide-awake, lying in bed listening to Potter toss and turn in his own bed. He could hear him shout something every once in a while, and then Potter would give an all mighty jump and rock the headboard, which would bump against the wall.
At first he had been annoyed that the noise had awoken him but now he was very interested. It was common knowledge that Scarhead suffered from horrible nightmares sometimes, but Draco had never actually known the rumors to be true.
He wondered what was going on inside of Potter's head at this second. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.
He listened intently to see if he could catch the gist of what Potter was dreaming about. Something about The Dark Lord perhaps? Death Eaters? He didn't know, but he wouldn't have minded finding out.
Quite suddenly the noises stopped. It was apparent that Potter had just woken up. Draco remained deathly still trying to see if he could hear Potter possibly say anything out loud to himself, but all he heard was the headboard bang the wall again, and the distant closing of a door. Potter had left his room then. Draco leaned back into his pillows and sighed.
He really was in for quite a year.
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