"Excellent work at the trial today," Malfoy drawled. "Great job."
"I was only a character witness," Harry reminded him. "Plus, I never even met the man."
Malfoy picked at the stitching of the ancient tartan chair he was slumped into and gnawed irritably at his lower lip. "Yes, well, that didn't stop you helping to send Crabbe's father away for the rest of his life."
Harry stared at McGonagall's desk in front of them. She was supposed to be giving them their make-up assignments to cover the work they'd be missing during the trials, but she was running unbelievably late.
"If they'd just checked his arm for a Dark Mark we wouldn't even have had to be there," Harry pointed out moodily.
"Yes, why didn't they think of that? We should send an owl right away! That'll blow these cases right open!" Draco laughed disdainfully, that familiar sneer curling his mouth in that familiar way. "Oh, wait. They disappeared when Voldemort died. You left them with no proof."
"Well, my apologies," Harry snapped. "What was I thinking?"
"And you with the reporters! 'Oh, I wouldn't call myself a saviour. Oh, no I'm just glad to be returning to a normal life.' What a load of bollocks." He pulled a long string from the patch he was destroying and flung it petulantly away.
"I was telling the truth, Malfoy," Harry shouted over Draco's derisive snort. "Some of us find that comes to us naturally!"
"Shut up, Potter. I've heard enough of your sanctimonious voice today."
"Boys!" McGonagall shouted, sweeping suddenly into her office. "Shut up the both of you, please. I do not have time for your quibbling. Someone has jinxed half of the Hufflepuff Third Years and they will not stop dancing in the Entrance Hall."
She collapsed into her chair and sighed. "It should be under control momentarily. Why are you here? Oh, yes, your assignments."
She handed each of them a small stack of parchment. "Go down to the Greenhouses and there you will find Dittany seeds. Plant them and make notes. Once they've grown, you will have completed your Herbology assignments. After that, you will need to distill them into Essence of Dittany. That will cover Potions. Your other assignments will be sorted out shortly."
The boys stared at her blankly. "Off you go!" she ordered, dismissing them with a wave. "Potter, I will see you later this evening at Hagrid's."
They walked silently through the corridors, the soft sounds of Malfoy biting at his own lip forming a secondary rhythm to their footfalls. Harry wondered if he'd always had this habit, or if it was something new born out of the stress of the trials. In either case, it had to be painful. Deciding it was a strange thing to ask someone about, Harry kept his mouth shut. They were through the Greenhouse entrance before either of them said a word.
"When they asked you about how Crabbe died, you didn't tell them I was with him," Malfoy said quietly. "When he summoned the Fiendfyre, I mean." He glanced at the shadows of his massive guards shuffling around the other side of the closed doors and continued to nibble unhappily away.
"Well, they didn't ask, did they? They just wanted to know if he had knowledge of dark magic. He did. That was it."
Harry could feel a thin sheen of sweat already breaking out on his forehead in the humidity and he wiped at it with a sleeve. He noted with some irritation that Malfoy's face appeared to be perfectly dry, although his cheeks had turned a nearly pleasant shade of pink.
Malfoy moved past to a long, empty table near the windows. Two large planters were set up next to each other with small pouches of seeds in front of each of them. Pouring some into one hand, he spoke without looking up. "Regardless. Thank you."
"Pardon?"
"You heard me. It's appreciated."
Harry picked up his own seeds and began poking them down into the soil. "I wasn't protecting you; they didn't ask. You're not always on the forefront of my thoughts." He was aware of how historically untrue that statement actually was, but there was no need to admit to it.
Malfoy huffed, wiping his hands on the cleanest rag available to them. "So sorry. How presumptuous of me."
"Sod off. We're adults now, act like one!" Harry bellowed, shoving him childishly away.
Malfoy shoved back, forcing Harry elbows deep into a large muddy trough of mushrooms. Springing to his feet, Harry lunged at him, grabbing fistfuls of pristine Slytherin robes with his grubby hands and pushing with all of his weight. He felt fists wadding up the fabric around his own chest, and knuckles dug painfully into his flesh as they struggled against one another. The sound of his own heart pounding sent shivers down his back and he pushed harder. He felt alert and completely alive, and he focused on the exhilarating pain of the fingers twisting into his ribs as he fought on.
"What the fuck?" Malfoy shouted at him. "Let go!"
Harry moved forward again, suddenly desperate to breach the space between them. He needed this fight more than he needed to justify it, and he just needed to get a little bit closer. Inches away, Harry watched Malfoy's rosy cheeks turn a deep red until their hot breath mixed with the humid air thoroughly enough to fog up his glasses. He balled his fists more tightly in the fabric he was ruining and propelled himself blindly forward. Malfoy grunted as his back hit the wall and Harry braced himself for a punch to the abdomen. The scent of mint and oak and sweat filled his nostrils, and he wondered if that was Malfoy's soap, or if he just smelled like that all the time. He was struck by bewildering and irrational embarrassment. Was the sweat part actually coming from his own robes?
"Get off me!" Malfoy grunted, thrusting his knee into Harry's stomach and sending him flying back once again.
Instinctively Harry reached for his wand, pointing it as directly at the blurry face before him as possible while his vision slowly cleared. Malfoy calmly brushed his silvery hair back into place and clamped his hands on his hips. He was the picture of composure as he came back into focus.
"Go on, then," Harry urged. "Defend yourself!"
Malfoy stood perfectly still. A look of unease flickered across his face for half a second before a blank expression slid almost imperceptibly back into place.
"Potter, I'm facing trial," he said flatly.
"Yeah, and?" Harry realized he was still yelling.
"Well, obviously they're not going to let me roam about the castle armed with a wand. Don't you think they might have been concerned about me potentially cursing witnesses? This was a condition of my return to Hogwarts."
"No, I did not think of that," Harry was surprised to admit, still at quite a higher volume than was probably necessary.
Malfoy began wiping mud off of his chest and flicking it onto the floor. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't broadcast this fact."
"Yeah. Yeah, no problem." Harry's wand suddenly felt obscene in his hand and he hastily stowed it back in his pocket. He realized he'd been acting deranged, and stifled the urge to apologize. Glancing quickly at the silhouettes of the clearly disinterested guards waiting for them outside, he was relieved to see that they hadn't moved. He attempted to affect a convincing posture of relaxation and steadied his breathing.
Malfoy's pale eyes danced with amusement. "You've got a lot of rage in you, haven't you, Potter?"
"Sorry," was his lame reply.
"No, it's good. Now, let's get out of here and pretend this never happened."
Hagrid's welcome party was already well under way by the time Harry made it down to his cabin. Tables were strewn across the grass around the front door, and dozens of students and teachers milled about, enjoying what was likely one of the last warm evenings of the year.
Harry had forgotten this was even happening, but it was clear that he was the only one. He scanned the huge crowd around him for Ginny, feeling very much like he needed to see her immediately. He had the strangest sense that he'd been doing something she wouldn't approve of.
"Harry!" a familiar voice boomed through the commotion. "Yeh made it!"
Hagrid bounded over with his arms wide open and wrapped them around him in a crushing hug.
"This'll be our last year together, yeh know," Hagrid told him, taking a step back. "I can' believe you're all grown up."
Harry nodded uncomfortably. It seemed like his friend was already well into his cups.
"Yer a grown man," Hagrid added, his voice breaking. He dabbed at an eye with a sleeve. "I'm jus' so proud of you."
"Thanks," Harry replied feebly. As much as he was fond of Hagrid sober, a drunk Hagrid could be exhaustingly nostalgic.
"Listen ter me makin' a fuss," he continued, waving his hand in front of his mouth as if he'd burped. "You'll be lookin' fer Ginny. She's inside helpin' herself to some food. Go try some, I made it all myself!"
Harry nodded as if he would at least consider eating anything Hagrid had cooked and made his way into the cabin. Ginny was alone inside, sniffing nervously at the huge variety of mysterious dishes that, as of yet, remained completely untouched.
"No one's eaten anything," she complained once she'd noticed him. "If I don't take something, he'll know."
Harry felt relieved to be alone with her. It had occurred to him recently that he hadn't been paying a great deal of attention to her over the past few weeks, and he was certain this was the source of the bizarre guilt he was feeling. He rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned in for a kiss automatically and then rested her head on his shoulder.
She smells like flowers, he thought to himself for the thousandth time. She always smells like flowers. Harry was dimly aware of the fact that he was not especially fond of this smell.
"Harry?" she asked, leaning away. "When was the last time you washed your robes?"
"I, er, think that's you," he told her, disengaging from the hug.
She laughed. "It most certainly is not." Drawing a line along his jaw with a warm finger, she smiled. "Let's go out and get some fresh air."
Harry let her lead him by the hand back out into crowd. He noted a small amount of mud on her back where his hands had been a moment before, but chose not to mention it.
Music was spilling out from somewhere unseen, and couples were dancing here and there. Laughter and happy chatter surrounded him as he was pulled to the edge of the crowd. Ginny sunk cross-legged onto a blanket and motioned for Harry for sit next to her.
"How did it go today?" she shouted.
"What?" Harry shouted back. They seemed to be sitting close to the spot the music was emanating from.
"At the trial. How did things go?"
"Oh! Fine. Fine. Justice was served, I guess."
From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted three figures moving through the darkness just beyond the light of Hagrid's party. Two large ones were moving quickly behind a lanky one that did not appear to want to be going wherever it was they were headed. He or she looked back often only to be prodded on by the others. They were closing in on the Forbidden Forest.
Ginny shouted something else at him.
"What?"
She repeated herself, but Harry couldn't make out the words. He squinted at the shapes in the distance.
"What are you staring at?" Ginny yelled into his ear.
"Over there! Do you see those people?" Harry's pulse was picking up the same way it had when he'd first seen the bruises on Malfoy's face. There was possibly something going on here, something to investigate, and he was intrigued.
"I'm going to go check it out," Harry explained at the top of his lungs. "You stay here."
He did not miss the frown on Ginny's face as he threw himself up off the blanket. If this turned out to be nothing, he would go back to apologize to her right away. But, his gut told him something was about to happen. He needed it to. He needed to feel that rush of adrenaline again, that life or death kind of excitement. The scuffle in the Greenhouses had helped, but it hadn't been nearly enough to sate him. He picked up his pace and ran toward the forest line.
Reaching the trees, he stayed in the swiftly growing shadows and listened for footfalls. With the music far behind him he could just make it out. They were there, and nearby. He could hear two heavy sets of feet nearly drowning out the lighter one and low, gruff voices.
He slipped into the forest, tightly grasping his wand. He climbed a small hill, careful not to make too much noise as leaves and twigs crunched lightly with each of his steps. His breath was coming quickly and his head swam with anticipation.
"You can just stop right there, now," a hoarse voice instructed. "Be a good lad."
Harry ducked behind a large tree as soon as they came into view. Two huge wizards stood just a few yards away from his hiding spot. He could see the back of a completely bald head glowing in what was left of the evening light, as well as the tangled and greasy mess of wiry hair on the other, shorter one.
"Just tell us what we need to know and we can all go back inside," the bald one enunciated slowly.
Harry recognized them as two of the Ministry guards. They were standing close to one another, each with their wand hands extended toward the third figure that still remained out of sight. He wondered who they were questioning, and why. Had someone infiltrated the school again? That seemed impossible. But, tonight would have been a perfect night for it with the celebration going on so close by.
"We don't speak," said a familiar voice. The sound of it set Harry's heart to pounding. He couldn't be mixed up in all of this again, could he? He'd just spent seven years learning just how bad things could be when you take the wrong side.
The shorter one made a tisking sound. "Locked up with him? For months on end? And you two don't so much as say a word to one another? I don't believe you."
"I don't think I believe him, either, come to think of it," the bald one agreed.
"Listen," Malfoy urged. "I have not spoken a word to my father since the Dark Lord was defeated. I have nothing to say to him."
The men looked at one another, their grins just barely visible in the dying light. "Don't make us do this the hard way, son," threatened the bald one.
Malfoy was either taking a long time choosing his words, or he was refusing to answer. Silence seeped from the small clearing they stood in and Harry's ears were filled with the sound of his own ragged breath.
"Have it your way then," the shorter one shrugged. "CRUCIO!"
"CRUCIO!" the taller one echoed a second later.
In an instant the air filled with electric light and the sound of Malfoy's agonized screaming. Harry was on his feet and running before he realized it, his wand held out in front of him as if it was dragging him toward the guards.
"STUPEFY!" Harry shouted, and the taller guard was thrown off his feet into a heap near Malfoy's twisting body.
The shorter one turned and quickly fired a hex in Harry's direction, missing him by several feet, and then began to run. "IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry screamed, hitting the wizard squarely between the shoulders. "STUPEFY!" he added, hitting the man again as he fell to his knees.
Harry collapsed to the ground next to Malfoy and for a moment felt blind panic set in. He was convulsing and grinding his teeth violently. His breath was coming in hard, rough bursts and anguished grunts, but the screaming had stopped.
"Malfoy," Harry whispered, placing a hand lightly on a muddy patch of robe. "I need you to stand up, do you understand? I need to get you out of here."
There was no indication that he'd been heard. "Get ready."
Throwing a stiff arm over one shoulder, Harry heaved them both up to their feet. He could feel muscles moving rhythmically in the forearm he held as Malfoy clenched and unclenched his fist, and began dragging his shuddering body from the clearing as fast as he could make him move.
They were nearly out of the forest when a pained voice whispered, "Stop." Harry ignored it.
"Stop!" Malfoy moaned and flung himself forward onto his hands and knees, retching and swaying.
Harry could hear soft groans coming from him again and again as waves of agony washed over him. He recalled the intense urge to injure him, the one that he'd given into so recently, and felt the same sick feeling of obscenity and shame take hold as it did then.
Harry crouched down next to him. "You ready?"
Malfoy shook his head slowly and began to keen over to one side. He crumpled heavily to the ground, his eyes bright with pain. Beads of sweat drew pale and ragged lines through the smears of dirt on his cheeks.
"Don't touch me," he whispered.
"We have to go," Harry told him, feeling unforgivably cruel. Stooping, he wrapped the same twitching arm back around his shoulders and heaved them both up to their feet again. Malfoy seemed to be losing consciousness quickly now, and Harry had to brace the entirety of the dead weight against his own body to keep them moving.
Beyond the trees, all was quiet. The music had stopped and shadows moved quickly beyond the light of the cabin. Harry spotted a huge figure looming close by and several smaller ones flitting about behind it.
"Hagrid!" Harry called out. "Over here!"
Malfoy let out a weak and painful sounding moan.
Harry ignored him. He tightened his grip and forced his legs to carry them faster.
"That you, Harry?" came the call back. Drawing nearer, Harry could make out McGonagall and Ginny trailing closely behind him.
"In the forest! They attacked him, they cruciated him, both of them did," he shouted to anyone listening. Hagrid nodded and bounded, somewhat off-kilter, into the trees. McGonagall followed a few paces behind him.
Ginny looked deeply concerned as she jogged toward Harry. "Is that who you saw?" she asked, throwing Malfoy's other arm over her tiny shoulders. She was too small to really lend any support, but Harry appreciated the gesture. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were…" she trailed off. They dragged the limp body between them to the castle together in silence.
In the Hospital Wing, Malfoy was given something to keep him asleep as the lingering effects of the double cursing wore off. His brow was tightly creased and his face streamed with sweat, even as he lay unconscious. Poultices had been applied to deep bruises around his collarbones that Harry chose not to explain.
Harry sat alone next to his bed long after Ginny had left. He couldn't seem to bring himself to leave until he was certain that those guards had been collected from the forest.
It wasn't long, though, before McGonagall swept in and took a seat across from him. They spoke in hushed tones over the sleeping patient between them.
"I've contacted the Minister," she told him quietly. "It seems as though they have no record of the two guards who attacked Mr. Malfoy in the forest. It may be that they were hired to impersonate Ministry guards to keep tabs on him. Can you tell me what information they were trying to gather?"
As Harry spoke his eyes remained fixed on Malfoy's still grinding jaw. "They were asking him about his father. I didn't hear what they wanted to know about him, but Draco told them he wasn't on speaking terms with him. They didn't believe him. That's when they both cursed him."
McGonagall shook her head as if she'd been expecting this. "They were wanting to know something about his father's testimony, no doubt. I should have suspected."
She stood suddenly and straightened her robes as she stood to leave. "Thank you, Potter."
"What's going to happen now?" Harry asked the back of her head as she moved toward the door.
"Mr. Malfoy will be moved into safer accommodations in the morning, on his own." She made no mention of his wand. "You should get to bed, Harry."
He nodded. "I will, thank you."
The click of her heels faded swiftly as she left them. Alone in the silent wing, Harry could hear that Malfoy's breathing had slowed and deepened. He had stopped sweating, and his jaw had fallen slack. His mouth opened slightly as he slept, and he was snoring softly.
Harry knew he should leave. It was late and there was no danger, but he felt compelled to stay for a moment longer. He ran through the brawl in the Greenhouse over and over again in his mind. What had come over him? Why had he felt such a bizarre need to shove Malfoy, to fight him, to hurt him? What would he have done if those knuckles hadn't dug into his ribs and kept him at bay? He was shocked at how intense his desire had been to just get closer to him. It was best not to think about it, he decided. He dismissed a far away memory of a broken nose on the floor of the Hogwarts Express. That feeling of disgrace was creeping back in.
He filled the glass on the table next to the bed with water and picked a leaf out of Malfoy's damp hair.
Resigning himself to the fact that he couldn't stay there all night, he lifted Malfoy's arm to straighten the covers. As he placed it back down again, cold fingers wrapped around his hand and squeezed. Harry froze, not sure what to do.
He squeezed back.
