Chapter 4
Harry spent the rest of the train journey with his head buried in Arithmancy for Intermediate Studies, a heavy tome which he could barely make head nor tale of. When Malfoy's friends eventually reappeared in the compartment, he almost lost it for a moment when his hands began to shake. Would it really matter if he spent the rest of the journey locked in the toilet?
But no, he had to make this work. So he stayed, and it hadn't gone as badly as it could have.
Pansy Parkinson was unnerving him by sleeping with her head in his lap, but he wasn't confident of being able to get rid of her and he knew if he told her to leave in the wrong way he might cause suspicion, so he let her be. She was Malfoy's girlfriend, surely he had to let her do things like that? He needed to question Malfoy on their relationship. Was he a virgin? He looked at Pansy's pug face and wasn't sure if he should feel accomplished or disgusted.
Zabini and Nott had tried to engage him in conversation twice about his earlier conversation with 'Potter', but he'd coldly told him he wanted to read in peace, and they'd let him be. He turned another page in his book and made himself read, and wondered how Draco was faring.
Once the toilet door was shut and locked, Draco didn't bother holding it in. Pushing the toilet seat down with trembling hands, he collapsed onto it, his entire body beginning to shake violently. When the tears came, it was with painful, choked sobs, and he leant his head against the cool hand basin, directly in from of him in the cramped space.
This was it. He'd seen his home and his parents for the last time as Draco today. His heart had been hammering on his ribs like a sledgehammer all morning, but he'd had to keep his mask on to make sure everything was happening as it should. Because if he or Potter messed up, he had nowhere - nowhere - to go. Potter certainly wasn't going to keep a cool, calm head, which meant he had to.
He'd spent the rest of his summer locked in his room, slowly coming to terms with the idea that this wasn't some kind of hideous joke. He'd drunk all Narcissa's fancy wines - at least until Dippy started hiding them. Then he'd just cried.
His father had never been kind to him, but Draco had always imagined that deep down, he was loved. Lucius may have obliviated himself, but if he had ever felt love and affection towards his real son, it had long since faded, or perhaps a part of Lucius subconsciously recognised Draco as an imposter.
He was having a harder time letting go of his mother than he'd anticipated. She really had loved him as a person, in a distant, flighty sort of way and it made his heart ache to think she'd be sending someone else expensive sweets in the morning owl post from now on.
He knew that this was the last time he could cry like this. He had to be someone else now. He had to, because if he didn't, he had nowhere to go. So he might as well make the most of it.
When Draco finally emerged from the toilet with clear eyes and head held high, he was thankful that Harry Potter suited the colour red, because he was sure that his crimson tie wouldn't suit his old complexion. He felt sick with anxiety, letting himself into Granger and Weasley's compartment. Harry had the easy part to play. Draco could carry of aloofness and hostility like no one's business, but now he had to be friendly and caring. He wasn't sure he could cope if someone tried to hug him.
Potter's friends heads swung round as he opened the door, their eyes demanding and full of questions. He dug his nails into his palms.
"Hi." he said awkwardly, opting to sit next to Weasley in case Granger suspected something right away.
"Decided to talk to us, have you?" Weasley - but he must remember to call him 'Ron' now - said snottily. Draco hesitated, catching himself before he said something snarky in return. What would Potter say?
"Sorry." he said meekly
"What were you talking to Malfoy about?" Granger probed, and Draco said his rehearsed line.
"We decided to make a truce. "
"What?" Ron said, gaping
"I don't want to be friends with him or anything," Draco said evenly "just I didn't want to fight anymore, and he agreed as long as I tutor him in Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Ron just gaped at him again.
"Typical Slytherin," Hermione said darkly
"But - " Ron interrupted "what's happened? I can't believe you just wanted to make a truce - didn't you just batter him to within an inch of his life?"
"Exactly Harry, what on earth got into you?" Hermione said sternly, and Draco wanted to slap her condescending face.
"I don't know what got into me," Draco tried "he was just smirking at me."
Hermione looked disgusted "Don't you feel sorry at all?"
"Obviously," Draco said scornfully "or I wouldn't have made up with him."
"Hey there's no need to be like that!" Ron said hotly, and Draco winced. He was already lapsing back to his own personality.
"Sorry. Just it's been stressful. I was trying to be the bigger person and just point out that we're enemies for no good reason, and - well you know what he's like." Draco shrugged "But at least I know I've made the effort, and we'll just have to see how the tutoring sessions go."
"I suppose at least he admitted you're better at Defence than him." Ron said, though he still looked ruffled.
"That's very mature of you, Harry." Hermione said, ignoring Ron "I suppose at least you're trying to make up for your wrongs."
Patronizing bitch.
Draco decided to introduce a new subject "I was thinking of getting him to tutor me in Potions." He was good at Potions, and he needed some excuse for Potter's skills suddenly improving, as well as getting Potter to do a good imitation of his own brewing skills. Also, he was going to have tutor Potter in Arithmancy, seeing as he had missed an entire year of classes. It was Draco's favourite class, and now he was going to have to take on Divination instead…maybe he organise something McGonagall to change classes.
"It's a good idea, Harry" Hermione said hesitantly "That way he might not feel resentful that you're tutoring him and not the other way around. But I could tutor you, you know." she looked a little hurt, and Draco wanted to roll his eyes, but restrained himself.
"It's like you said, I thought it would help us get along a bit better if the tutoring was a two-way thing." He wished Potter read books for pleasure more often, maybe Granger would can it if he started reading, but it was too out of character for Harry.
"So you're ditching us for Malfoy." Ron said, a churlish look back on his face as if it had never left.
"Oh Ron!" Hermione sighed
How badly Draco wanted to reply in the affirmative.
"No Ron," he said tightly "I'm just trying to build bridges. Look, I'm tired. I think I'll take a nap."
They were looking suspicious already, but Draco was stressed out and liable to snap so, not feeling tired in the slightest, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the Hogwarts Express.
Lightening flashed across the sky as Harry, along with his Slytherin followers, trundled in their carriage past the winged boars at the gates to the Hogwarts grounds. He didn't stop Pansy from huddling into him, but he wished he could speak to Draco immediately about how to handle her.
Walking into the entrance hall, he cast his eye around for Draco and his friends, but almost immediately he was distracted by a loud pop and a splash, and he jumped at the same time as a small flood of water exploded around his feet.
"I'm warning you, Peeves!" McGonagall called from up ahead, and he cold see her shaking a fist at the disappearing poltergeist.
"Ugh, water balloons!" Pansy said disgustedly
"At least he got Weasley good." Blaise said sagely, nodding up ahead, and Harry's heart jumped as he saw a red haired figure disappear into the great hall.
Draco endured Longbottom with the patience of a saint. It was better than enduring Weasel, but listening to the boy prattle on about his boring summer holidays was one of the most tedious speeches he'd ever endured. He didn't think he'd ever felt so relieved for the sorting to begin, and he watched with rather more interest than usual as the various first years walked from the sorting stool to their respective new houses. By the time the last chubby faced kid had toddled off to Hufflepuff though, his stomach was starting to rumble, and he didn't need Dumbledore's urging to go ahead and tuck in.
As usual, Draco picked at the main course, but when the pudding appeared, he heaped his plate high with Chocolate Gateau.
"Sweet tooth?" Hermione asked, eyeing his bowl with a wince, and Draco remembered someone saying her parents were teeth-healers in the muggle world. He merely shrugged, wondering why muggles had so many teeth-related accidents that they needed specialized healers.
…000...
"So!" Dumbledore said, as the tables cleared, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione had been halfway through a furious rant on house elves. Apparently she had no idea that they existed, and somehow considered their position morally questionable. He had hesitated before deciding to play dumb. She'd find out soon enough what happens when you try to give a house elf wages and sick leave.
"Now that we are fed and watered," the headmaster said as Hermione harrumphed "I must once more ask for your attention as I give out a few notices. Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yo's, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thiry-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anyone would like to check it."
Draco merely raised an eyebrow at the sarcastic tone to the headmaster's voice. Apparently even the headmaster wasn't above mocking the squib. He could just imagine the teachers sniggering at each other as Filch and his cat were terrorized by children's toys, unable to stop them from attacking without magic.
"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" Draco said angrily as the table around him erupted. Apparently he was sitting in the midst of the quidditch team. He looked over at the Slytherin table and found himself sharing an outraged expression with Potter.
Just typical. Potter would probably have won the cup for Slytherin this year in my name. Father would have been so proud. Or at least smug.
"This is due," Dumbledore continued as the uproar died down "to an event that will be starting in October,"
Oh.
Draco remembered now. Father had said something at the beginning of the summer. The Triwizard Tournament was supposed to be reinstated, but Draco had forgotten it in all his other problems. He frowned, thinking hard. He couldn't think how, but he was certain that he'd overheard father discussing it with the same men who had been at the manor some time ago who'd seemed overly interested in ending Harry Potter's life.
My life. I'll have to be very careful this year.
"- I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"
Draco waited impatiently along with the rest of the school for a sudden roll of thunder to abate so that the headmaster could continue his announcement, but at that moment the great doors at the end of the hall swung open to admit what had to be the most unattractively hideous man Draco had ever seen, including some of his father's more unsavoury acquaintances.
The man limped up to the teacher's table with the aid of a walking stick and a wooden leg, and Draco watched in fascination with the rest of the school as he clunked his way along to a seat. His face seemed to have pieces missing, and what was there was so heavily scarred and pitted he wasn't sure whether the word 'face' could really be applied to it. Most disturbing of all was the man's glass eye, which was electric blue in colour and seemed to whiz around and around like a spinning top as it took in the entire hall, moving independently of the other eye.
Before sitting down, the man shook hands with Dumbledore, and with a sinking feeling, Draco deduced that this monstrosity was what was going to pass for a Defence teacher this year.
Dumbledore must be desperate.
"That's Mad-Eye Moody!" Ron whispered in awe, and Draco turned to him.
"You know him?" It really said it all when the man was known as 'mad'.
"He's an auror." Ron whispered "My dad-"
The headmaster cut Ron off as he introduced their teacher, but Draco turned back around, mind whizzing like clockwork. Someone was out to kill Harry Potter - him - and there was an auror at the school.
Dumbledore knew. He had to know Potter was in peril.
He watched the headmaster speculatively. Would he be told he was in danger? He didn't know how much the headmaster interacted with Harry, it was possible he would be called to speak to him within the next few days. He'd have to go over their previous meetings with Harry so he didn't mis-step.
"As I was saying," Dumbledore said pleasantly, ignoring the fact that the students were still avidly focussed on Auror Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" one of the stupid Weasel twins said loudly in an oafish outburst that Draco would have usually attributed to the likes of Crabbe or Goyle, but the school laughed because Weasley was a Gryffindor and therefore such outburst were generally good-naturedly endured.
Draco shook his head before he got too irritated, only to see the headmaster was now being dissuaded from telling an inappropriate joke by McGonagall.
Dumbledore then launched into a rather long discourse on the history of the tournament while Draco entertained himself by glaring at Harry playfully, who looked at him in surprise, then hesitantly glared back, clearly unsure whether Draco was serious or not.
He rolled his eyes and looked away. Potter was such a plank sometimes.
"Death toll!?" Hermione whispered in alarm, and Draco tuned back into the speech hurriedly.
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, none of which have been very successful."
Oh good, we're test subjects, Draco thought wryly
"…The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Hallowe'en. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
Draco could have predicted the sudden pricking of ears amongst the Weasley clan, but once again one of the Weasley gits made an excited comment which only exacerbated the obviousness of his family's lack of money, and Draco eyed the boy's patched second hand robes with distaste.
Dumbledore ended the speech with the welcome (at least to Draco) announcement that only students who were of age could compete.
"Thank goodness I'm not likely to end up being chewed to pieces by a chimera." he said, forgetting who he was speaking to, and Ron gaped on astonishment.
"Are you joking?! Eternal glory…a thousand galleons! Imagine what you could do with that money!"
Oh for goodness' sakes…eternal glory for a school competition, is he insane? And what would the poor tosser do with a thousand galleons…he couldn't even buy his mother a decent house with that. I suppose to a Weasley that's a large sum of money though…
A sudden thought struck Draco. His inheritance!
"Come on - are you alright Harry?" ever-alert Hermione was at his elbow in an instant, and Draco realised everyone was leaving the hall.
Was he still rich? He couldn't be, Potter practically wore rags. But his broom was worth a fortune, and the Nimbus 2000 he'd had before his Firebolt had been expensive too…
Draco didn't want to think about what it might mean if he was poor. Maybe he could persuade Potter to halve his inheritance with him…he'd have to strike a bargain later.
He followed the boisterous, noisy crowd up to a tower, where they were confronted with an overweight woman in an unflattering shade of pink who demanded the password. Draco was taken aback, and immediately missed the silent stretch of wall in the dungeons. The password was inane and ridiculous sounding, but he committed it to memory anyway.
He winced as he followed Ron though a garish common room and up some stairs to what he soon realised was a dormitory.
He thought he was going to be sick.
They shared bedrooms?!
He sourly imagined Potter relaxing in the luxury of his private room with en-suite bathroom as he headed for the bed with Potter's trunk at the end of it.
Drawing the curtains around himself, he fell back with a thump and reminded himself that he couldn't cry.
It didn't make a difference. Within moments his cheeks were wet, and he was biting his lip furiously to make himself keep silent. He could shake, and the tears could fall, but he would not allow a single sound to escape him.
He was exhausted, and eventually he could no longer think straight, so with a long, shuddering sight, he fell asleep to the sound of Ron muttering about eternal glory.
Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters, they belong to JK Rowling. I am not making any profit from this fic, it's purely for fun.