Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter it belongs to J.K. Rowling and I do not profit off this story.
Warnings: SLASH M/M (don't like don't read), Post DH, and slight AU.
AN: Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors etc. This story does not currently have a beta. Thanks for reading and all of the reviews, favs, and alerts. For news on updates check my profile, I usually update a day or so after I post a chapter with the date it was posted. It also will say why I haven't updated if it has been a few weeks, etc. Thanks, again.
Love is Blind
Chapter Five: Back to School
Draco didn't know what to say, he was expecting Potter to throw him out and curse him into oblivion. Not readily agree with him. "S-so you'll do it?" He asked, anxiously.
"Yeah, it's what I just said, isn't?" Harry replied, offhandedly. "The worse that could happen is I die, so I really have nothing to lose."
Draco stared at the boy he used to loathe with every fiber of his being, only to feel pity. What happened to the boy who fought with everything he had? What had happened to the Boy Who Lived? "Potter, you need help." The blonde spoke before he could catch himself. "You're not well."
"Way to state the obvious." Harry said while pointing to his eyes.
Draco shook his head, as he had once told Weasley, mental issues weren't his area, but it was clear that Harry had suicidal tendencies. Isolating himself and not caring about his own well being were alarming signs that he couldn't ignore.
"I mean more than my help, Potter. How often do you get visitors?"
"Every few days or so, it's hard to keep track and sometimes they forget."
"What do you mean?" Draco asked. Getting details out of Potter was like popping boils. Harry gave a lazy shrug of his shoulders.
"Ron gets busy with the shop and George…" Harry paused. "Well, he doesn't really like it here, too many memories, so he often goes to the bar for an afternoon drink and then sometimes pops by afterwards."
"What about Granger and the Weaslette? Surely they don't just leave you cooped up in this for days on end."
"Mione does do her best to stop by or at least fire-call, but she is busy at the Ministry. And Ginny, well she's travels a lot for Quidditch."
Harry flinched at the sound of Draco's chair scratching across the floor, not expecting the blonde to stand up. Draco almost apologised for startling the Gryffindor, but instead said, "How can you say that with such ease? Stop bleeding defending them! I thought your lot was all about friendship?"
Harry's face remained neutral from Draco's outburst. "This isn't Hogwarts, Malfoy we've all grown up and can't be there for each other constantly. It's not like Ron's bed is right beside mine anymore and Hermione and Ginny aren't downstairs anymore. I would never ask them to sacrifice more than they already have for me."
Draco let out an aggravated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose to stifle the growing ache in his head. "I'm coming over once a day." He announced, suddenly. "You'd better be thankful too. Weasley wouldn't be able to afford the bill if I wasn't doing this for free."
"I said I'd pay you." Harry scowled.
"I don't want your money, Potter. I owe you enough as it is. Expect me around lunch time, I will owl or fire-call if there is a conflict."
"What if I don't want you here every day?" Harry asked, snidely.
"Too bad." Draco replied, briskly. "This way I can keep a better eye on your health and fix your ailment sooner. See you tomorrow, Potter."
Before Harry could mutter a, 'goodbye' Draco was gone.
…
Draco mentally berated himself. Why in Merlin's name had he offered to visit Potter daily? There went his lunch hour. Currently, Draco was going to a place filled with bittersweet memories. He was going back to Hogwarts. The blonde needed some fresh ingredients for a potion and he couldn't think of a better place than Hogwarts' greenhouses.
Walking through the corridors gave him a sense of nostalgia; he could vividly remember walking down these halls as if he owned the place. Yet, memories from the battle crept up. Visions of fire flooded him and he couldn't help but feel a bit light headed as an invisible heat spread through his body. Draco took a deep breath, placing his hand against the nearest stone wall for balance. The coldness of the stone offered little relief, but it helped him focus on the present. The Dark Lord was no more. He graduated from Hogwarts and worked as a Healer. He was soon to marry his fiancé, Astoria. Those thoughts kept repeating in his mind until the burning subsided.
"Malfoy?" a voice asked, quietly.
Draco took a deep breath, straightening his robes to find them damp from cold sweat. Turning to face the voice, his mask faltered for a fraction of a second. "Longbottom?"
Neville cautiously nodded his head. Surprised by Draco's sudden presence and somewhat disheveled appearance. "Are you alright? You, um, look like you're going to be sick."
"I'm fine, Longbottom." Draco snapped, upset that Neville had seen him in a moment of weakness. "What are you doing here?"
"I-I work here. I'm the Herbology professor."
Avada Kedavra me now, Draco thought. He should have known Longbottom would be working with bloody plants. "What a coincidence, I'm here to talk to the Herbology professor." He said with false enthusiasm.
Neville eyed the blonde oddly. "R-really? What do you need?"
"Some ingredients. You see, my focus is healing potions and some of them require the freshest ingredients.
"So you're like a Healer?" Neville asked in disbelief. Draco wanted to roll his eyes, but merely gave a smile.
"So you can help me? I have a patient that really needs these potions or else…" The blonde trailed off dramatically, his eyes flickering towards the floor.
"Yes, of course you can have them."Neville said, quickly. "Just owl me anytime you need supplies."
"Thank you." Draco replied, wanting to swallow his tongue in the process. He never dreamed he would be thanking Neville Longbottom. Neville dumbly nodded and began rambling on and on about the plants he was growing and how great it was that Draco was helping people.
…
Draco gave a sigh of relief as he walked by himself down the hall. He swore Longbottom was going to talk his ear off. He was about to leave the castle, when an idea came to mind. His feet had led him to the entrance of the Headmistress' office and he cursed himself for not asking Longbottom the password. He hadn't gone to see Snape's portrait in what was now hanging in McGonagall's office. He had never had the chance to confront his former professor about the war and there were many things that had gone unsaid.
"Lemon Drop?" Draco guessed, not surprised when nothing happened.
"Good try Mr. Malfoy, but that was Albus' favorite candy not mine." said a stern voice. The blonde whirled around and found himself face to face with the head of Gryffindor.
"Professor." Draco spoke slowly, his mind calculating how exactly to charm his way out of this awkward situation.
"Sugar Mice." The older woman said before Draco could say anything else. Sure enough, the office entrance revealed itself. "Please, owl next time you plan to visit, Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes, Headmistress." Draco answered, in awe of her ability to know what he was thinking. Just like Dumbledore, he thought. He ascended the stairs and found himself surrounded by the portraits of all the previous Headmasters. He could hear the dull murmurs of a few portraits, asking who he was and why he was here. One voice, a familiar deep and cynical one called his name. Draco unknowingly winced, not used to anyone talking to him like that since his school days. "Professor."
"I'm no longer your professor, Malfoy. So why have you come back?"
He looked up at Snape's portrait, the man's black eyes glaring down on him as he waited for a response.
"I haven't got all day, Mr. Malfoy!" Snape barked.
"Sorry, sir." Draco responded automatically, feeling as if he were sixteen again. "I came to apologise."
"Which, you just did. Good day-"
"No, not for that. For those times I didn't listen to you. I should've have listened. I-"
"I do not like being interrupted, Mr. Malfoy. What's done is done and there is nothing you can do about it. So stop dwelling upon it. It does not due to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
Draco let the words sink in. Snape wasn't cursing him; he was comforting him in his own strange way. A small smile formed on his lips, a small weight lifting from his shoulders. "I'm sorry I didn't come by sooner, sir."
"Stop bloody apologising. I don't think I've heard this many apologies since Longbottom came in here and spilt his tea at a meeting."
The blonde couldn't help but laugh at Snape's tirade. Typical Longbottom, he thought.
"How are you, Draco?" Snape asked, noticing the blonde's tired demeanor. "Is everything alright at home?"
"I don't live with my parents anymore; I'm all grown up now."
"Somehow, I doubt that." Snape chided, still seeing a young man before him.
"Believe what you will, but I'm a Potion Master for St. Mungo's that specialises in healing."
Snape's brow arched. Whether it was because Snape was surprised or impressed, Draco couldn't tell.
"Didn't follow in your father's footsteps?"
Draco shook his head. "I've made enough wrong choices."
"You will go far." Snape simply stated. "Do feel free to come by for tea sometime. We can discuss potions."
"Thank you, sir." Draco replied in earnest. As he turned to leave he heard Snape call his name once more. Their eyes meet once more and the blonde swore Snape's dark eyes could see through him and all his secrets.
"Do remember that no man leaves a war without scars."
The blonde nodded slowly in agreement, unsure of what prompted his former professor to say such a thing.
"I'll keep that in mind, sir. Goodbye."