I do not own anything here, nor am I making a profit from this. It is purely to pass my time, and hopefully, interest other people. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me.
I'm sorry for the break between updating, this chapter was supposed to be up ages ago, but I actually got kicked out of home :( Fun, I know. hahaha, well, I've literally had internet again for an entire two hours, so this was the first thing I did. Please enjoy it :)
Thank you everyone for the great reviews! I don't have the time to write them out today, I'm borrowing a laptop as it is, but THANK YOU! You all make my day!
Chapter Six - A New Hobby
Harry watched as Malfoy slowly entered the hall, wishing to gods unknown that he would be normal and sneer at Harry, crack a joke at his expense, any of the above. But no. Malfoy had to be the annoying twat he always was and always would be, didn't he?
Instead of snarling at him, or better yet pretend he didn't exist and last night didn't happen, he stared.
Just stared.
All through breakfast.
As if he didn't have anything better to do than make Harry as uncomfortable as possible. He didn't touch his food, didn't talk to his friends. He just stared. Calmly. Across the hall. No smile, no snarl, no raised eyebrow. Blank face, he watched Harry.
And Harry, who could never eat after the treatment the night before or else risk emptying his entire stomach across the breakfast table, could do nothing but stare back. Ron hadn't come down to breakfast at all, and though Hermione had, she had sniffed and nodded but not yet said a word. The on again off again friendship was really pissing Harry off, but he could do nothing but wait for them to start acting normal again. And until then, he had an unamused blonde git that wouldn't stop looking at him.
Why didn't he just hold up a neon sign?
Harry sighed, moving his food around aimlessly. He really should have thought through last night better. Who the hell would allow their enemy and rival to sit through and watch that, a moment of clear weakness? And, now, he knew that Harry couldn't use magic at all. He knew his Achilles' heel.
Harry was fucked.
However, there was no staged whispering as he had entered that morning. And no one seemed to look at him twice. So what the hell? Why was Malfoy biding his time before he told? Because being a Slytherin and a Malfoy left no disguise that he would tell someone, and that it was only a matter of time before he did. But seriously, why wait?
Harry glanced up again, rolling his eyes at Malfoy heatedly. What the hell was he thinking? He grabbed a piece of parchment from his bag, scribbling on it furiously.
"What are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously, but Harry just shifted it slightly, making sure she couldn't read his scrawl.
"Nothing."
Find yourself a new hobby.
Harry folded his note, then paused. How the hell was he supposed to get it to the git if he couldn't magic it over there? There was no owl this time, and he doubted his mates would lend theirs. Glancing at Hermione's slightly furrowed face again, he turned back to Malfoy, lifting up the note with his eyebrows high.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione hissed again. She sounded so…disappointed. Why?
Thankfully Malfoy was bright, though Harry would never admit it to his face, for the note snatched from his fist, flinging across the room and landing in the blonde's waiting hand. Harry ignored all the whispers now as Malfoy read the note, smirking before popping it into his pocket. Did he have to do that to all the notes? It worked, however, as he turned his face away and instead began muttering to Parkinson. Finally.
"…Can you speak to me, Harry?"
Oh, he had completely forgotten about Hermione.
Wishing he didn't have to, Harry turned back to his bushy haired friend, groaning already at her expression. "Another joke, was it Harry?"
"And if it was?" He replied dryly, sinking to lay his head on his arms. He hadn't slept well last night, he never did on Tuesday's anymore. If he was to be entirely honest, most nights through the week. But, honesty wasn't really Harry's policy right now.
"…Harry…just…"
Harry winced as something whacked into his face, none too gently. What the hell? A paper plane lay on his plate, obviously directed right to his eye. Across the hall the Slytherins chuckled to themselves. Honestly, why were they fine with the two boys communicating, and yet the loyal house of Gryffindor wasn't?
Hermione was overlooked as he read the note.
I'm perfectly content with my current hobby. You, however, need to stop gawking at me.
That insufferable little twat! Harry snorted as he shoved the note away, shaking his head and glaring at the Slytherin. A few of them were chuckling to themselves, seeing Harry obviously flustered by the note. Even if they didn't know what it was about, they were siding with Malfoy. Maybe the hat had gotten it wrong all along…the house of green seemed more steadfast from where he was sitting. Day by day it was proven.
Harry snatched up another piece of paper, scribbling down another remark. However, it was snatched away before he was done, a now blatantly amused Malfoy again catching it.
It's creepy
That's all he managed to write before it was taken away. It's creepy. He was going to go on a rant, and maybe throw in a few delicately chosen swears, but no. He only managed a pathetic, 'it's creepy'. Roars of laughter erupted from the end of the hall, Harry rolling his eyes and struggling to control his rapidly growing grin.
Malfoy grabbed the note back from a laughing Nott, rolling his eyes as if irritated, but his smirk said otherwise. He tucked that note away as well, his other hand already replying.
"Harry!"
Harry caught the next plane, this one not trying to gauge out his eye. He unfolded it hastily.
That's why you love me.
He barely had time to laugh at the bloody winky face Malfoy had drawn at the end of the sentence before the paper was ripped from his hand furiously.
"Give it back!" Harry lunged for the note but missed as Hermione leapt from the bench, standing just out of reach as her eyes skimmed it. It only took a heartbeat before her face dropped coldly. Without a word she tossed the note back to him, not even facing him, and spun around to storm from the hall.
Harry snatched back the note, shoving it into his pocket. His mood had disintegrated in that one second. Fantastic. The first time he had felt purely happy, and it had been taken away from him. Again.
Sighing, he warily stood, noticing how most of his classmates were avoiding his eyes again. Because they were angry with him, a reoccurring theme lately…or because of the red haired fiery demon from hell that was storming up to him. Wand in hand.
Harry turned and hurried to the doors, hoping to avoid this particular fight for a while yet. Apparently not, as she she-demon grabbed his arm and spun him around, dark eyes glistening with unshed, furious tears. "What the hell are you doing?" She demanded, flinging a disgusted look at Harry before gesturing to the Slytherins. All of whom, Harry was sure, was watching his new spectacle with interest.
"Can we not do this here?"
"You've been avoiding me like the plague." Ginny hissed, tossing her hair behind her shoulder furiously, "And, apparently, for a pack of Slytherins!"
"I've been avoiding you-" Harry began, but she didn't let him get in another word.
"Because you've turned into this…this coward! Where has the real Harry gone? Huh?" She demanded, jabbing him with a finger. "Where is the Harry that would have actually turned up to my brother's funeral? Where is the Harry that wouldn't give the snakes a light of day? Where is the Harry that loved me?!"
Harry swallowed tightly, staring at the livid girl and not knowing what he could possibly say. Where was that Harry? He was dead. He was in the hospital, having treatment the day of George's funeral. He was unconscious, not knowing what day it was or whether he was hanging upside down or right side up…the only thing that resisted was pain, and when he had awoken to find out he had missed the funeral, he couldn't show his face without telling them why. So Harry had stayed away. The Harry that ignored the Slytherins was gone the moment he had realised that they were as innocent as every other student in the school. He had realised they were kids, just like him. And the Harry that had loved Ginny…he had left the moment he had said goodbye to her before he went into hospital. You couldn't love someone if you were going to die months later. You just couldn't.
So Harry remained silent, letting Ginny scowl, her temper mounting at each passing second.
"Harry!" Her voice demanded an answer.
Harry opened his mouth, his chest sinking as he decided to finally speak, when he was over spoken again. Not by Ginny.
"The art of subtleness evades you again, Potter."
Harry warily turned to the blonde git, noticing his amusement was gone even though his smirk stayed glued to his unnaturally pale face. "How many fights in the public eye is this now? Let's see…There was the one after potions, first day back…"
"Malfoy, not now-" Harry began guardedly, but he wasn't even glanced at as Malfoy continued his little rant.
"You had another little tiff in the hall, which led to you trying to push some poor moron down a flight of stairs." Malfoy smirked, counting off on his fingers. "There was the quidditch scuffle, we can't forget that, now can we? The bellowing at midnight…and, of course, the mini-debacle here, which, might I add, is going to evolve beautifully as soon as I-"
"Shove off, Malfoy!" Ginny snapped, spinning around to jab her wand threatening at him. "This has nothing to do with you, so get your greasy head out of your own arse, and fuck off!"
Harry groaned inwardly, wishing he were anywhere but here. However, Malfoy just smirked again, raising his eyebrows. He turned to Harry, a hint of the amusement flickering back to life inside his impossibly grey eyes. "Come with me, Potter."
A simple sentence, no snide or sarcasm involved at all. And yet, Harry was cringing before it was finished. Ginny spun back around, locking her glare with Harry instead, warning him not to take a step. Malfoy just waited, his trademark smirk in place. They were playing a dangerous game of tug-a-war, and Harry was not the least bit impressed. He had to make a choice…Merlin, but he really didn't want to.
No one moved.
Ginny was his friend, one he had considered marrying after the war…and yet, he had no claim on her now. He couldn't allow himself to get caught up in romance and making her happy, knowing full well that in a few months, she would be miserable again. Malfoy, however, was a different story. He knew the truth, and could very well hold it over Harry…as he was doing now. If Harry didn't step over to him, the entire hall would know within seconds. Harry was a complete and utter idiot for letting Malfoy come last night! Who the bloody hell would do that? Did he not think? Was it already affecting his brain?
"It shouldn't be that difficult, Harry!" Ginny snarled viciously, her face dropping into shock as Harry finally stepped. Next to Malfoy.
"Sorry, Gin…I'll…explain one day…" He couldn't even give her a proper excuse.
With the weight of every bloody eye in the hall on them, Harry and Malfoy left the hall, willingly, side by side.
.
.
.
Harry only waited for the doors to swing shut behind them before rounding on the still smirking twit. "What the bloody hell was that? Do you like destroying me life?" He all but shouted, growling as Malfoy answered smugly.
"Well, yes, it does have its charms." He rolled his eyes at Harry though, as if slightly irritated. "I would have thought you would be thanking me, rolling in gratitude and all that."
"Gratitude?" Harry spluttered out, following Malfoy towards the staircase unwillingly. "For what? You just made me pick between you and my best friend's sister!"
"I was getting you out of an undesirable situation."
"If I had needed your help, I would have asked for it!" Harry snapped, "I'm not that pathetic that I need you to step in and defend me!"
"You're getting there." Malfoy retorted smugly, "It was an insufferable spectacle. I was saving you face." Harry jerked to a stop, blinking at the suddenly confused Malfoy. "You coming, Potter?"
"…Why are you being…nice to me?" He asked, frowning angrily, "You hate me. I hate you. There should be nothing to change that. I mean, talking? Exchanging jokes? Notes? What the hell are you doing?"It wasn't even half true. Harry hadn't hated Malfoy in weeks, but he didn't need to know that.
The Slytherin remained quiet for a moment, judging and considering an answer. It wasn't until Harry shuffled uncomfortably, though, the he replied dryly. "Do I need a reason to be nice, Potter? Can't I just be trying that inter-house unity shit?"
"If this is about last night," Harry said quietly, glancing around to indeed ensure they were alone. "Then drop it now. I don't need your pity, I don't want it. I just want you to be normal."
"It's not about last night-" Malfoy cut in, scowling as Harry immediately cut him off in turn. He couldn't expect Harry to just sit and take this shit, could he? Hadn't he been paying attention the past six years?
"Then get over yourself! I don't recall asking for you company, I definitely don't recall asking you to be pathetically nice to me, and I don't recall asking you to follow me around like I'm some sad little charity project! You're acting as if I were dying-!"
"You have Succ-"
"You don't know what you're talking about!"
Malfoy glared frustrated at Harry, before continuing. "You have the flu," He stated loudly and sarcastically, pushing all the bloody wrong buttons on Harry, "You, of all people, should know the-"
"I don't care about any of that shit!" Harry snapped, "And neither should you! Yesterday is history, Malfoy!"
"No, that's what Pensives are for." He snapped back, hands twitching as if he wanted to grab his wand. Oh, just try it!
"I'm not explaining this to you!" Harry exclaimed, shoving past Malfoy and storming down the stairs, towards the entrance. "You're Malfoy!"
"And yet, the only one that knows of your…condition." Harry spun around again, clenching his fists furiously.
"Not by choice."
"Really? I distinctly recall Pomfrey demanding I leave, and yet, you interfered. Out of preference, wasn't it?"
Harry growled again, storming into the yard and crossing to his favourite tree near the lake. "Seriously Malfoy, find a new hobby. A new outlet. Just leave me alone."
"Maybe it's you that needs to find a new outlet." Malfoy replied easily, finally stopping his stalking and cocking his head to one side. "Moping around about how unfair life is and snapping at everyone that invades your bubble is very attractive."
Harry spun around again, about to bellow at the slimy git about the unfairness of life, but he was already gone. The unbearable little twat! How dare he try to lecture Harry? He had just ensured yet another fight with his friends, and the git had the audacity to tell Harry to grow up? Did he realise how hypercritical he was?
Harry tossed down his books and slid against the tree, muttering to himself. What new outlet? What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't use magic, and he had turned down the offer to play on the quidditch team. His friends weren't talking to him, and, oh yeah, he had this fucking disease that was trying to kill him. What fucking outlet?
He hadn't lived his life yet. That's why he was so angry. He hadn't had a chance to fucking LIVE yet!
…
So, do that.
Harry blinked at the thought, having no idea where it had come from. Wasn't that what he was doing? Living like he usually did at Hogwarts? But no, this year was completely different. Everyone was angry and hurt still from the war. Everyone had short fuses. And he just spent his time as a hallow mimic of his usual self.
Harry slowly reached over and grabbed his quill and some parchment. A new outlet, huh?
He dipped the quill in some ink, hesitated once more before scribbling a heading across the page.
The List
Maybe Malfoy wasn't as incredibly stupid as Harry had always made him out to be…this could be fun. Harry shook his head as he smiled slightly, unaware that he was even doing it. He was actually excited about this…it would be his and his alone, no one would know about it. He was going to live a little; do all the things he had desperately wanted to, but was denied whilst growing up, both with the Dursleys and with the war.
And there was so much he wanted to do!
But…he wouldn't be allowed to put them all down, he thought sullenly, thinking of Ginny. He didn't know how long his fucking thing would allow him to still function. So, it had to only be things he could actually achieve…and within the Hogwarts grounds. That limited his choices dramatically.
Harry sighed again, thinking. What did he want to do before…with his life?
He glanced at the paper, tossing it aside and got a new one. He wasn't allowed to fall in love, it would be unfair. But…there were certain things that he hadn't done yet. He had never really gone further than kissing Ginny, and the prospect of dying a virgin made him quite pathetic, even in his head. Okay, that was number one.
It was steadily easier after that. He thought about how his friends were angry at him, and jotted a few down. He thought about everything he had been denied as a child, and the list grew. Ideas flew to mind that would make him laugh or smile, like he wanted to again.
It occurred to him that he was smiling a lot more when he was talking or fighting with Malfoy, and whilst that unnerved him…it couldn't be a bad thing, right? So, Harry wrote down a point about the Slytherin Prince.
Eventually, his list grew…and then he couldn't think of any more. So, instead of wasting the last half hour of his study period, Harry re-wrote the list, grabbing his first parchment and jotting them down in importance order.
He stared at the finished product, incredulous that a soft smile was stretching across his face again. He was such a sad person.
Well, he had found his new hobby. Let's see if Malfoy found his.
.
.
.
Harry walked into Potions, hesitating as every gaze flickered to him. Oh, they were not happy. Even some of the Slytherins, namely Goyle, looked furious that Harry had decided to come to class today, as if they were all expecting him to hide away again. Well, he couldn't do that, now could he? After all, according to number 2 on his list, he wasn't allowed to regret anything. Not anymore.
Something that was definitely easier said than done, Harry decided anxiously as guilt decided to cling to his stomach. Definitely easier said than done. It looked as if Hermione was physically restraining Ron from bounding to his feet, and even Seamus and Dean looked a bit peeved. Well, Dean looked as livid as Ron, with Seamus nodding and hurrying to placate him. It seems that Ginny had already spoken to them. Great.
Harry silently crossed to his desk, ignoring the usual snarls that drifted from Goyle and quickly got his books out. Malfoy spun swivelled in his chair for a moment, coolly regarding Harry, or perhaps waiting for his thanks or apology before swinging back to Zabini, muttering to him. Oh, fantastic. Harry was making friends with everyone today.
And as annoying as it was, Harry felt a buzz of irritation flicker as Malfoy ignored him for the next few minutes. He was the sole person that was still talking to Harry, and now he had decided the cold shoulder was the best option?
"Oi, Malfoy," Harry waited with little patience as the blonde turned to him, his smug eyebrows raised as usual, cold eyes glinting. But before he could speak, Slughorn burst into the room, smiling brightly.
"Well, how is everyone going with the homework? Friday is the cut-off, you know."
Harry sunk back in his seat, trying not to glare at the excited teacher as he laughed at the Gryffindor efforts to find out what Daisyroot was. If only they had had a thought to ask Harry…
"No, no, no! You're all looking in the wrong places!" He chortled, turning to the other side of the room. "How is this side fairing? And better than the Gryffindors? Ten points to all who already found it!" Mutters of complaints whispered across the room as the Gryffindors complained, but Slughorn pretended not to hear. That, or he was plain deaf.
"We all have it." Zabini sighed, shoving a piece of paper to their teacher so he could read it rather than saying it allowed for the class to hear. "It was…quite simple, really. Mundane even." He couldn't resist a sneer at the red side of the room, chuckling to himself as their sudden death glares were directed to him.
"Oh, I must try harder next time!" Slughorn chuckled, turning expectantly to Harry. "What of you, my boy? Have you found the answer yet?"
As much as Harry wanted to smirk at them and show Slughorn his answer, and get the praise that had been denied him these past weeks, he couldn't. He, technically, hadn't found the answer…and they would think Malfoy had given it to him, despite what he would say. It was true, but regardless, Harry felt he had bloody earned the answer! He had risked his limbs to get it!
"…Not yet, sir… I think I'm close, but not yet." Slughorn sighed, turning back to right on the board as the Gryffindors smirked at one another. They were all so smug.
"Well, what are you all waiting for? Get to, get to! I want a perfect euphoria by the time class ends!"
Harry was able to blot out his thoughts as he worked on the potion, taking care to follow the instructions and not rile up the already glowering Goyle.
"Really, Potty, you're truly an imbecile, aren't you?" Harry sighed again, slowly turning to face an incredulous blonde and a smirking Zabini, both watching him curiously. "Did you not understand my incredible subtle hint yesterday?"
Harry, feeling his face heat up as all the Slytherins started chortling at him, leaned closer to the amused blonde, raising his own eyebrows. "It's sugar water, as I've been graciously informed. Not even allowed to be called real alcohol. The same guy who made it made several strongsleeping solutions; he fancied being in an unconscious stupor. So no, Malfoy, not incredibly imbecilic."
"Why didn't you just tell Slughorn, then?" Harry blinked in shock as Zabini spoke to him, seeming genuinely curious. He nodded towards the Gryffindors. "Knock that smugness off their ugly faces?"
"Because, I didn't want to get them points." Harry muttered, turning red as Malfoy snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Real mature, aren't you?"
"You just rolled your eyes at me; you don't get to call me immature."
Malfoy just smirked though, amusement finally seeping back into his eyes. "What did you want?" Oh.
Harry had to physically restrain himself from rolling his own eyes now, and from the smirk that covered Malfoy's face, the bastard knew it. "…nothing. Just wondering if you found yourself a new outlet yet."
Malfoy glanced at the approaching Slughorn, slowly letting his eyes drift back to Harry, considering him. Eventually, though, he replied, as if he didn't mind the fact everyone could see him blatantly not completing the potion. In fact, he seemed to thrive on the attention. Of course he would, immature brat that he was.
"…Don't think I will." That was what he had waited to say? Three words and that's it? He bloody well thrived on the dramatics.
Goyle grumbled under his breath as they worked on the potion, his small eyes never leaving Harry's face. He didn't even check measurements, just continued to scowl at the brunette. The boy seemed to have a personal vendetta against Harry, which was blatantly obvious as he cut closer and closer to Harry's hand, no pretence on being inconspicuous. Even more so when Harry had to literally pick up his stool and shuffle a few paces away from him to not be stabbed by the stocky boy.
Harry didn't know where the friendliness had appeared from, with the Blonde Git From Hell, but it was very unnerving at how easy it was to talk to him…fairly easy, considering that they had loathed each other's guts for the past seven years. But then, thought Harry a bit pathetically, he might just pity a dead man walking. He had reacted oddly last night, after all.
It was too confusing.
Harry was just going to focus on completing his list, and not the changing personalities of Malfoy. No matter how lonely it would get, being ignored by the entire school faculty. Why had he even brought up the 'hobby' again anyway? He had decided to follow that path alone, hadn't he? Literally twenty minutes ago too.
Harry sighed again, the action quickly becoming his signature move. It all was too hard. He was just relieved he now had an 'outlet'. Forget about the oddness with Malfoy, or whatever weird game he was playing, just remember the list. Malfoy wasn't important.
"Shit!"
Harry jerked off his stool in surprise as suddenly an explosion shattered the room, potion splattering everywhere. He jerked backwards quickly, avoiding the volatile mess that was quickly destroying the classroom. The class erupted with screaming, the Gryffindors chuckling while the Slytherins and Harry bolted backwards.
"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!"
"Mr Malfoy, that type of language…oh, my boy, oh!"
Harry, and the rest clothed in green scurried backwards, slowly inching around the sickly potion on the floor and eyeing the eerie green gas that unexpectedly hung in the air above their cauldrons. Slughorn was tapping, clearly in distress and not sure what he should do, so they hurried over to him instead…and froze.
Malfoy and Zabini were both sprawled on the floor, their potion splattered across the both of them. Their hands covered their faces, knuckles white with rage or pain. Harry felt sick, just glimpsing at the two of them; the potion was sizzling their skin, burning through them if it could. Malfoy made to move his hand from his cheek before snarling with pain, quickly replacing it…not quick enough, for Harry to catch a glob of something splatter onto the stone floor. With another glance, he had to leave the room, needing fresh air…that had better not have been their skin that had melted, it had just better not have been.
The next second the door flew open again, Zabini, Malfoy and Parkinson all sprinting off towards the Hospital Wing no doubt, both boys barely comprehensible as they snarled and whimpered all at once. Merlin, and Harry had been having a good day.
He gulped in fresh breaths, trying to forget the visual of Malfoy's face melting off, before the door slammed open again, his classmates quickly filling the hall. Slughorn followed them, for once looking quite angry, almost as nervous as the night Harry had asked for the memory of horcruxes.
"Get out! All of you! This…abomination will not be repeated, understand? In my class? Mine? Get out! I don't want to see your faces!"
Well, it seemed he wasn't about the fact two students were injured, merely that it had sabotaged his class. Truly a Slytherin after all.
The Gryffindors quickly dispersed, almost as if they had apparated, all quite keen to get away from the crime scene. Which, however, left an awkward Harry standing next to Nott and Goyle.
Goyle simply grunted, turning and disappearing without a backwards glance, leaving the two quite uncomfortable in the corridor. Nott was watching Harry with a level stare, whilst Harry shifted around and tried, and failed, to give one back. If he spun around now and walked off it would just be awkward, and that glare made it so he didn't even think of moving yet. Eventually, Nott spoke though, clearly curious. Like all the Slytherins lately, apparently.
"It wasn't you, was it?" He asked, then spoke before Harry could get a word out. "No, I don't think you would tell me, even if it wasn't. If you could reconcile with the Gryffindors, it would benefit everyone, I think. You're not a Slytherin, just leave us all alone." And with that, he was gone again. Leaving Harry to stand perplexed in the corridor. What the hell?
That was just strange. Malfoy messing up a potion was even stranger. Someone, some pathetic child from Harry's house had put something dangerous into the cauldron, and when Harry found out who, they would wish to never have even thought of messing with the Slytherins.
Neville, Dean, Seamus, Hermione, Ron or Parvati.
Which one? All friends, all good people…all wishing they had bloody saved him a seat that first day in class.
.
.
.
Malfoy was an arrogant twat, a hypochondriac that tried to pull out illnesses for as long as bloody possible. Madam Pomfrey had regrown all the bones in Harry's arm once before, repairing a little skin would be nothing for her. The reason he didn't come to double Transfiguration, and even dinner, was because of his stubbornness for creating drama from a mosquito bite; a slight sting to be forgotten within minutes, which was simply not the Malfoy way. He would draw it out painfully, and let everyone hear his tantrum. That was what Harry told himself, at least.
He was not worried for the blonde git, oh hell no. He wasn't worried in the slightest.
Which was why, for reasons completely and utterly unknown to him, Harry was standing outside the hospital wing, debating whether or not to go in. He really shouldn't, it was midnight after all…and they didn't even like each other! A couple notes and a smile every now and again did not suddenly make them friends. No, Harry was here for his daily potions, and that was it.
His hand reached up to push the door open…and hesitated. They weren't going to be awake, were they? Malfoy knowing about Harry's predicament was bad enough, but if Zabini discovered it too it would be hours, if that, for the entire school to know. Secrets weren't kept long in this school.
Before Harry had a chance to pull the handle down, however, the door was jerked open, a huffy nurse blinking surprised that he stood there.
"What are you doing staring at the door? Come in, come in!"
Harry was bustled into the room quickly, shoved mercilessly onto a bed as she started thrusting potions at him to swallow. He barely had time to glance around the room for either Slytherin before she was forcing his head back, trying to drown him by force-feeding.
"Alright, alright! I'm doing it!" The nurse didn't look relieved, instead glared at him until she was certain every drop had made its way into his mouth. Even then she looked as if she didn't believe he had drunk the potions, because he didn't grimace at the taste. It took a few minutes of repeating 'I'm used to the taste' for Pomfrey to finally sniff and leave, telling him to wait for them to settle for a little bit before returning.
After that spectacle, Harry hoped to past wizards known and unknown that both boys were asleep.
"She doesn't trust you, does she?" The ancestor wizards loathed him as much as the Universe did.
"Apparently not." Harry replied dryly, glancing at the door the witch had disappeared through before edging off his bed, making his way slowly to the occupied ones. Zabini, at least, was asleep, covered in his blankets and slowly mumbling through his dreams. Malfoy sat up though; eyes alert and not even the slightest bit drowsy. His face, thank Merlin, was healed. Pale, a bit raw, but not dripping off in clumps anymore.
Harry must have sighed relief, for Malfoy's eyebrows raised, face expressionless. "Worried? I'm touched."
"Not about you," Harry shook his head, hurrying on as Malfoy's eyes glinted dangerously. "I mean, not like that, I was worried, not for you, but, you know, for your face-"
"Oh. My face is my only redeeming quality?" Okay, the blonde was definitely angry, his tone in harsh snips. The usual bright grey had hardened into slicing silver daggers.
"No! I mean, I was worried for your face, that Pomfrey wouldn't put it right, and you'd be scarred-"
"I'm only good to talk to when I have a pretty face, is that it? Leave, Potter."
"No! I mean, it's just…" Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think of a way to get his point across. When nothing came to mind, however, and the blonde just continued to glare at him frostily, he gave up. Sighing heavily, Harry shook his head, blatantly not making eye contact. "Yeah, I was worried."
"You really should stop talking when you're ahead; have you ever been told that?" Though the tone was sarcastic, it was also dramatically less harsh than a few moments ago.
"Yeah, at least twice a day. I start babbling, and –"
"Apparently."
Harry bit his lip to try to stop the grin break out again, wondering when he had started feeling comfortable to talk to Draco Malfoy of all people. "Yeah, so…she fixed your face?"
"As eloquent as ever." Malfoy smirked, rolling his eyes, but he nodded just the same. "You were lucky she was able to fix it; I had no nose for a moment there."
The image of Draco…Malfoy without a nose wasn't a pleasant one. It made Harry wince just to think of it, so he hastily changed the topic. "What do you mean, I'm lucky?"
"I mean now I don't have to hunt down every Gryffindork that catches my eye and mutilate them until their faces matched mine." The amusement was gone from Malfoy's face a second after it appeared. Emotions hidden by that mask of his, Harry was certain he wasn't joking. His classmates were lucky that it wasn't permanent, because he had no doubts that Malfoy wouldn't have stopped with their noses if his couldn't be retrieved.
"I still can't believe they did it." Harry knew that they were angry, there was no doubt about that, but to go this far? He stepped closer to the bed, ignoring Draco's, Malfoy's, raised eyebrows as he sat on the edge. "Inkpots and jinxes are one thing, this is another."
"No Slytherin has ever mentioned inkpots, Potty." Harry turned red as Malfoy smirked, evident curiosity crossing his face. Not wanting to answer the obvious question about to be asked, Harry pressed on quickly.
"Did you see who did it?"
Malfoy smirked, not oblivious for a second to what Harry and tried and failed to do. "I'll humour you." He replied dryly, watching as Harry turned darker red in the gloomy room before continuing, his tone haughty. "Just as I've told Pomfrey, and McGonagall, I did not see the assailant. I was going to ask you who it was." He didn't ask, but he was clearly waiting for the answer impatiently. He would have to wait a little longer.
"I don't know who it was," Harry said slowly, shaking his head, "Do any of them hold a grudge against you? I mean," He hastily covered as Malfoy scoffed, incredulous, "do any of them hate you other than being the complete prick you always are?"
"I can think of a few things." Malfoy said airily, "Most of last year, to be perfectly honest."
"You were hardly there last year. You were at the manor."
"I was at school, for a few months."
"I didn't see you."
Harry wanted to go to the nearest wall and slam his head against it. That, or chop off his tongue. No one except Ron and Hermione knew of the connection between him and Voldemort, and that was how it was going to stay!
Shit, now Malfoy looked more curious than ever. Fantastic. "I mean, I didn't hear of you."
"Swing and a miss."
"Forget it."
"Not likely." Harry stood abruptly, swallowing and glancing towards the door. He couldn't have made his needed escape more clear, but Malfoy looked unperturbed. "Find out who it was." He asked, not even trying to put on an air of innocence. "I need to repay the favour."
"I'm not helping you massacre my friends."
"Oh, but they're not your friends, not anymore." Harry didn't glance at Malfoy as he left, but his words echoed through his head. They had remained his friends for the past seven years; they wouldn't abandon him now, not when he needed them most. Not until he needed them to.
"Night, Potter."
.
.
.
Harry blinked against the sunlight, his eyes gritty and sore. He hadn't slept last night, making that now two days relatively sleepless. He was going make a new record one of these days, and stay awake for the entire week. He wondered how many pepper-up potions you would need to take in order to accomplish that.
Movement to his left had him sigh and drag himself up from where he was sitting, watching quietly as Neville clambered down the stairs and froze, swallowing as Harry's cold eyes followed him.
"Morning, Neville." Harry said quietly, effectively freezing him to the spot. Though he had lost his baby fat from the war, and was usually confident and praiseworthy now, he stilled when Harry spoke. Slowly nodding, the tall boy hesitated again before coming over to Harry, sinking into the next chair and glancing at him worriedly.
"You don't look so good, Harry." He eventually said quietly, taking in Harry's rumpled uniform and possibly bloodshot eyes. "Are you sleeping alright?"
"Fine, mate, fine." Harry made an effort to not look so angry, instead steadied himself. If he was going to do this, and only Merlin knew why he felt like he had to, he had to do it right. He couldn't smile at his friend though, as though physically unable to. He had taken control after Harry had left, they all trusted him now. Did he know how quickly they would turn on him? "Uh…how were your holidays?" It was the first time in weeks since he had asked, and felt guilt biting at the insides of his stomach for simply not caring.
Neville had jumped with surprise, a disbelieving look passing across his face before he delved into the reconstructing of Hogwarts and the crucial redevelopment he had played with the greenhouses. It was Harry's turn to blink in surprise; he didn't know that Neville had helped to rebuild Hogwarts, he didn't know that they had taken volunteers to do so. When he commented on it, Neville looked disappointed again, slightly wary.
"We all did; Dean and Seamus and all of us. Even Ron and Hermione. Mostly we cleaned to halls, took away the rubble and salvaged what we could. I worked with Professor Sprout with the Greenhouses, but the others worked wonders trying to rebuild it in time for September. But, I don't think you stopped me to talk about that."
Harry swallowed tightly, not even knowing about it. All of them had worked together to rebuild his home, their home…without him. He hadn't known, and so hadn't helped. Some hero he was, to murder, and leave the mess for others to clean up. "I…I would have come…" He managed to mumble, but Neville was already shaking his head.
"We couldn't get in contact with you, none of us…we tried, but we just didn't know where you were. You have no idea how…" It looked like a struggle to cut himself off, but Neville did, finally. He bit back the obvious retorts he wanted to spit out, evidently just as angry as the rest of them. Harry had waited for him to come down because he had figured he would have been the most willing, but apparently not. "What did you want me for, Harry?" Not unfriendly, but not friendly either. The biting sensation wriggled through Harry's gut again, taunting him.
"Fine." If Neville was going to be blunt, so was Harry. "Who ruined Malfoy's potion?"
If Neville was wary before, now pure suspicion controlled his features. "Why?"
Why? Why? Harry was wondering that himself. "Because it was dangerous," He spat instead, frowning at his mate. "And because it could have seriously hurt him!" Whoa, where had that come from? Harry didn't give two tosses whether or not Malfoy was hurt.
Neville controlled his face, only the edges of anger getting out. "You can't try to get back at them, Harry-"
"He was minding his own business." Harry snapped back.
"Be quiet, Harry." Neville warned, standing up as if just to tower over the brunette. Harry launched to his feet too, noticing how Neville clutched his wand. His own lay disregarded, and Harry smirked as he saw that flicker over his friend's face. Let him make of it as he willed. "You weren't there last year. You have no idea how awful it was. They're all angry, I get that. You should too; just let them heal."
Fury trickled along Harry's being, screaming at him to punch his friend, to wail on him and scream. Instead, Harry had to make to with barely restraining his voice into a murderous snarl. "Don't…talk to me about healing…" Shit, he could feel his eyes stinging up again, being weak! "Just…don't."
And suddenly, Harry felt taller than the nervous Neville, despite their obvious height difference. Harry was deadly serious, his face straining for control…his eyes must have glittered fury.
"They melted his face, Neville." He managed to say this without snarling, watching as the hard face appropriately turned into horror. Okay, so it wasn't Neville. "Skin was dripping off. That's not healing. Tell me who it was."
"I can't." Even Neville looked angry now, a bit frustrated. "I didn't see who it was." But then, he had been a student of the Carrows. He knew how to lie.
"…Fine. If that's how you want to play it." Harry shook his head with disbelief, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading to the door.
"We miss you in the common room, Harry." Neville spoke quietly, "We don't get to see or talk to you anymore."
"That's not my fault." Harry turned around, tired eyes trying and probably failing to glare at Neville. "And I'll be damned if I apologize now."
"Harry…we're your friends." He replied simply, trying to apply caution as if he knew Harry would explode with his next words. "Not…not Malfoy."
"Bravery? Chivalry? Heroics?" Harry shook his head tiredly, finally showing his exhaustion to his once friend. "Gryffindor sickens me."
Harry left the room without looking back.