"Draco," Draco's father drew his attention. He was staring at the fire crackling in the fireplace, but looked up to see his father's withering face and stony eyes. "I expect you to succeed in this task the Dark Lord has graciously bestowed upon you. You cannot fail."
"I will not fail, father." Lucius nodded and, looking away, waved his hand, signaling Draco was dismissed.
Draco hardly remembered how he ended up at the train station staring at the Hogwarts Express. A cold hand touched his cheek, and forced his head to turn to his mother's face, the lines of worry and age cutting through the hardness.
"Draco," she whispered. "Please be safe. I don't doubt you, but—"
"Mother, it's alright. I can do this." His voice shook, and her eyes filled with tears. Her bottom lip trembled as she stroked his cheekbone.
"I know you can." She gave him a watery smile. A tear escaped, and Draco raised his hand to brush it away. As she stretched up onto her toes, she pulled Draco's face towards her. He felt her lips touch his temple, just the tiniest flutter, before she whispered in his ear.
"I love you, Dragon." Draco's breath hitched, and he felt tears pricking the backs of his eyes. She hadn't called him that since he was a tiny thing before he tried to make himself his father's image.
"I love you, mummy." Draco whispered, and turned away before his mother's freefalling tears did him in.
How sentimental.
"Mr. Malfoy!"
Draco's head snapped up with an audible crack. Professor Flitwick was standing beside his desk with a concerned look on his face. Draco's eyes flashed around the classroom. People were staring at him, but that was nothing new. Some people were staring with confusion; some were sneaking giggles behind their hands.
"Mr. Malfoy," Flitwick's quiet voice caught Draco's attention again. His face was soft and sympathetic. "Perhaps you should go to the infirmary." Draco shook his head.
"No, I-I'm fine." His voice shook and cracked. Someone snorted behind him, but he stayed facing forward.
"Draco, I insist," Flitwick whispered and leaned forward. "You were lost in your head. I was calling your name for almost a minute before you snapped out of it. I should think some Dreamless Sleep would do you good. You look exhausted," Flitwick straightened and looked around the classroom. "Would someone please escort Mr. Malfoy to the infirmary?"
"I'll do it," a familiar voice behind him said. A few people gasped, and Draco did as well when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Draco looked up at Potter's face. His lips were curved into a gentle smile, his green eyes soft and kind and full of…that mystery emotion. Draco broke his gaze and shook himself, then began to pack away his things.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now, as I was saying, in order to do this charm, you must flick your wrist twice to the right…"
"Harry must be under the Imperius; there's no way he would help that slime ball without being cursed," someone whispered somewhere to the left of him. Draco heard Potter suck in a breath, and saw him turn out of the corner of his eye. He looked at Potter full on as he stood, only to pause at what he saw.
Potter was glaring at the back of the speaker's head. He was terrifying. His eyes were dark and guarded, his mouth pinched in a glower. Draco recognized the face. It was the one Potter wore whenever Draco had provoked him. It was always the last thing Draco saw before Potter's fist connected with his jaw.
Potter took a step forward towards the speaker. Draco grabbed onto his arm before he even knew what he was doing. Potter whipped around, the horrifying expression softening slightly.
"He's not worth it," Draco said softly. Potter's face melted to a small smile, his eyes lightening to the rich emerald green they usually were. Draco nodded and released Potter's arm, instantly missing the warmth on his cold fingers.
They made their way to the door to the classroom, ignoring those who were not paying attention to Flitwick. They were almost out when the voice spoke again.
"No, he's probably under a love potion. The pointy fag couldn't get any without it."
Draco felt Potter turn around again, his fingers tightening in Potter's robes as he started towards the boy who spoke out.
"Twenty points from Hufflepuff, Mr. Smith, and you will be joining me for a detention tonight straight after dinner," Flitwick's voice rang out through the classroom. Draco took advantage of the pause in Potter's step to pull him out the door.
The pair walked in silence until they got to the stairs at the end of the hall. Draco immediately went for the stairs heading up, having no intention of going to the infirmary.
"Where are you going?" Potter's confused voice made him pause and turn around to look at him.
"I don't need to go to the infirmary," Draco's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately, no doubt from the months of no use abruptly ending.
"Are you sure?" Potter asked, concern flooding his face and tone. Draco nodded. "You really don't look well."
"I don't want to go to there," Draco said with a stubborn tilt in his head. Potter seemed as if he were about to argue, so Draco turned to slowly make his way up the stairs. He paused once more when he heard footsteps following him.
"Well, then I'm coming with you."
Author's Note: Okay, I know it's been a while, and I know this chapter is short, but I've been distracted lately. I'm sorry.
If you don't like it, tough titty. Reviews are, as always, welcome. Thank you, beautifuls!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the only thing I own pertaining to the world of Harry Potter is a pair of Slytherin socks, and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans that I have not had the courage to pack into yet.