Hey guys! No, I'm not dead - I've been travelling again. 9 countries in 1 year - A pretty good effort :)
I'll update quicker next time, I swear. Almost done now.
Thanks for all your support and messages - you guys really have no idea how much it motivates me to write :)
On with the show :)
43 – Ups and Downs
Hermione rubbed at her eyes, as if the small action had the power to erase the exhaustion from her mind. She had been awake for the past twenty hours, and it was slowly taking its toll on her. She was reading the same sentence and it didn't make sense. She knew the words, and she understood their respective meanings; she read them, and couldn't comprehend what the book was trying to say. It was about time to call it a night.
She sighed quietly, turning to see how her unorthodox study partners were going.
Malfoy wore a scowl tonight, which didn't waver for a second. She had been keeping tabs on it; it only deepened.
He had been quite amiable through their research. Yes, there was the occasional snapping and rolling of the eyes, but apart from that he had been rather well-mannered. Distant, and with no intentions of being friendly. She couldn't hold that against him; years of rivalry and hatred didn't diminish with a few nods and forced gestures. It wasn't as if she had extended an olive branch herself.
Now, however, she realised he had been practically warm. If Malfoy had been uninterested in working with her, he was positively offended at working with Neville.
He glared the entire night, muttering under his breath and jabbing quite ferociously at the ink every time he needed to apply some to his quill. Hermione also had her suspicions that there was quite a few kicking under the table, given both of them jumped or flinched at odd intervals.
Neville wasn't exactly helping the situation; he didn't study as fastidiously as they did. His books were splattered over his part of the table in a disorganised mess, and he couldn't keep still. His fingers were tapping, or he was humming to himself, or twirling his quill in his hands. Hermione had discovered these studying quirks years ago, and so it didn't really matter to her. She could block it out; it certainly infuriated Malfoy, however. He had snapped his quill a few minutes ago and seemed ready to do so again. And by the way Neville sneaked glances at the Slytherin and smirked to himself, he knew he was being irritating.
Movement caught her eye; Malfoy's own hand was itching towards his wand.
"Shall we call it a night?" Hermione interjected before they could jinx one another…who was she kidding? Before Malfoy could send Neville to the hospital wing. "I don't know about you two, but I can barely keep my eyes open."
"Yeah, the words stopped making sense at least an hour ago." Neville agreed, stretching on his chair. He seemed completely at ease, despite Malfoy's scowl deepening once again.
"Why did you invite the muggle?" Malfoy snarled, snapping his books shut. He collected his papers roughly, hands clenched into fists. Wow. She hadn't seen him this angry when she cornered him about Harry's condition. "He's fucking useless. I had prepared myself for your inadequate boyfriend, and instead this turns up. I actually would have preferred Weasley."
"I'm right here." Neville pointed out unhelpfully, throwing an exasperated stare at Hermione.
She ignored the slight against her boyfriend, packing up her own books. "He's here because he knows about Harry's condition, cares about Harry, and three minds are better than two."
"I doubt that." Malfoy muttered, stifling a yawn and shoving the last of his papers together.
He looked tired.
Hermione probably hadn't noticed because they usually spent the majority of their research sessions ignoring the others existence. But now that she had noticed, it was impossible to ignore. He had the makings of bags under his eyes. His eyes were red, and even as she studied his appearance he tried to suppress yet another yawn.
Should she say anything? No, they weren't friends. They were acquaintances at best. They shared a common interest; that was it.
Neville spoke instead. "How was last night?" What?
Malfoy didn't reply immediately, and Hermione didn't think he would. It had made his distaste for Neville known the moment he had crossed to their table. But the more they waited for an answer, the more apparent he was hesitating instead of disregarding. It was almost as if he was struggling to find the words; maybe he was determining which insult to throw into the world?
Therefore, Hermione was shocked when the answer was almost civil. "It was as horrifying as always." He replied quietly, flickering his eyes to the Gryffindor. "You bloody halfwit." Almost civil.
"What was-?"
"You're going to help me in the morning." Malfoy spoke over the top of her, cutting her question short. She noticed he didn't ask for help but demanded it. "More specifically, you're going to help Harry."
Usually she would have ignored the demand altogether, but Malfoy's cheeks were turning pink. Whatever this demand was, it was certainly embarrassing the hell out of him. She couldn't wait to tell Ron. "What do you want to ask us?"
It was quite amusing to see Malfoy sigh to himself. He was regretting this decision already. Whatever it was, was going to be-
"A food-fight will be started tomorrow morning, during breakfast." Alright, not in the furthest vicinity to what Hermione was thinking. "You're going to convince Gryffindor to participate, even if only for a moment."
"A food-fight?" Neville replied blankly, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes." Malfoy was now impersonating Snape with the way he seemed to speak without moving his mouth or features. "Did I stutter?"
Hermione thought Neville was treading a thin line when he laughed, considering Malfoy's eyes had turned positively icy. "Out of all the ridiculous things you say-"
"It's to be a peaceful occasion," Malfoy continued, staring directly at Hermione and ignoring Neville altogether. "You'll control your band of obtuse misfits so they won't even consider throwing a jinx instead of porridge. Is that understood?"
There was no humour in his eyes, or twitching of his lips to indicate a joke. There was no amusement present in any of his features. If this idea had been proposed by a Gryffindor…no, if it had been proposed by any other student, there would be grinning accompanying the notion. Guilty glances, quick whispers. They wouldn't be able to control their excitement.
Draco Malfoy's face was closed off, irritation the only emotion flickering in his icy eyes. It was almost laughable that this fun idea had come from someone as rigid and rude as Malfoy.
"…Why?" She wasn't asking why she should restrain the other Gryffindors; they were quick to snatch at their wands for any inferred injustice. Everyone was now.
Malfoy stared at her for a bit, obviously considering whether he was going to answer. In the end he turned away, doubtlessly finding her unworthy. He picked up his belongings and headed to the door, a farewell never crossing his mind, never mind his lips.
It was hard not to roll her eyes and sigh loudly; it would prove it annoyed her, and she didn't want to give him the pleasure-
"Because last night was as horrifying as it always is." He muttered quietly, slamming the door behind him. What was that? Last night? They never studied on a Tuesday; it was the only reprise they gave themselves. One night off, to do other work or calm down a bit.
Hermione glanced at Neville, but his laughter had cut off. He sighed to himself, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to admit it," He muttered, "I mean, he's a total dick. He's a controlling egotistical ferret that wouldn't blink at cursing every single one of us. He might even enjoy it. What am I thinking? He would enjoy that-"
"And your point would be?" Hermione asked to prod him back from the tangent he had wandered onto. They could all get lost in daydreams of insulting Malfoy.
Neville grinned sheepishly, gathering the books Hermione had lent him. "It's getting hard to hate him, isn't it?"
Hermione just nodded, disagreeing with every word. She couldn't see it; he was very easy to dislike. He was rude all the time, snapping and commanding as if he thought it his right.
It wasn't until the next morning, as she was pulling the porridge Ron had 'accidently' misplaced in her hair, that she saw. The Gryffindors hadn't needed any persuasion to keep their wands at bay; they were more than willing to hurl fruit and hash browns at the green table. It was hectic; friends were smearing food on one another's faces, others were diving over the tables for a semblance of protection. But everyone was smiling; they giggled, throwing unapologetic glances to the professors table. And the Professors did nothing to stop them; they continued eating as it there wasn't utter chaos unravelling before them.
Between laughing and removing a part of an egg from Ron's ear, she happened to glance across the hall.
Malfoy hardly had a speck on him; only something wet dribbling from his shoulder. Harry was covered; the Slytherins hadn't wasted the opportunity, apparently. He even had a piece of toast stuck to his front. He was grinning, saying something that made the Slytherins surrounding him bark out laughter. He glanced at Malfoy, and the grin grew impossibly wide.
The Slytherin pulled off the toast, huffing as Harry just took a bite from it, laughing.
Harry smeared some porridge onto Malfoy's cheek, turning a bright shade of red as Malfoy smirked and grabbed his hand, licking the oatmeal off his finger rather sensually.
Their eyes didn't leave one another.
Oh.
.
.
.
a food fight in the Great Hall
.
.
.
Harry curled the blanket around tighter, his hand splaying out across the sheets. He paused as his fingertips caressed cool sheets. Empty sheets. Opening his eyes only confirmed his weary thoughts; he was alone.
He didn't sigh, or punch the unused pillow with frustration. Those reactions had no purpose, and resulted in tiredness. He didn't have the energy to waste on useless emotions. He rolled over instead, hand reaching for the opened map. It only look a glance in the darkness to confirm his thoughts.
So Harry let it drop to the floor, rolling onto his back. He stared at the ceiling for a long while, as he was used to doing lately. He was always tired, but he didn't seem able to sleep. There were many nights spent gazing around the room so he could scrutinize mundane objects. Every miniscule detail on Draco's trunk had already been memorized. He had crossed to the large glass wall the other night, and stared out into the darkness of the lake. He was certain something had watched him back. Tonight would be no different; ceiling it was. He would stare at the insignificant details of the stone, and pretend it didn't matter he was wasting his-
Harry blinked, and threw the blankets off the bed. He pulled back the curtain, and searched blindly for some socks. His hand bumped against his Weasley jumper, so he shrugged that on too. He left the map on the floor, and ignored the questioning mumble from Blaise. He didn't think he had been that loud, but he had accidently woken the others.
He exited the room, and they didn't follow. It was almost two.
Harry strolled through the dungeon, no haste in his step. There was no anger controlling his movements, no fear. He was on a mission, but without the usual fire that hurried him along. What was he missing? Passion? Either way, the calmness of his mind was a brief respite.
The dungeons weren't as complicated as he had previously thought, or maybe he had just experienced an extravagant amount of practise. He was slightly impressed that he didn't lose his way once, despite it being dark with the torches dimmed. It had only taken him a few months, but he had figured out the route from the dungeon.
It left him a bit chuffed.
He left the last corridor, and climbed the stairs to the first floor. He didn't jump as the Bloody Baron drifted through the wall, and ignored his questions about the time. He pushed open the large library door, and walked through the shelves to the back of the room.
He didn't need the map to walk up to their table. Hermione's spell was doing to job alright; he couldn't see them, or hear them. He doubted they were talking, however. Hermione and Neville had probably dropped their jaws in shock; neither expected to be confronted this way. Draco probably didn't move; he would have cocked his head, or raised an eyebrow at Harry's unexpected arrival. They needn't have worried.
Harry turned to the left of the table, staring at the empty chairs. He assumed that's where Draco would be; he always sat to the left in class, and when they studied together. He slept on the left side on the bed as well.
"It's time for bed." Harry made sure to speak clearly, but quietly. He didn't want to look like the needy or controlling partner. He certainly wasn't angry. He just wanted to make his point. "It's late, and the sheets are cold." He didn't feel stupid talking to an empty table; he knew they were there. And he would linger until Draco showed himself.
He didn't have to wait long; the words had barely left his lips when Draco magically appeared, a few steps from the table, a mere pace from where Harry was watching. "We mustn't have that." He drawled, amusement in his tone.
Harry gestured with his arm, huffing as Draco's smirk stretched across his face. He thought this was funny. "Let's go. Leave it." He added as Draco took a step back towards the table, probably to collect his things. Harry was quite satisfied when Draco hesitated, his eyebrows raising into his hairline. "I'm sure they'll bring it tomorrow."
"Alright." His tone didn't betray his thoughts. He must have understood, however, as he approached without a backwards glance at the table. And when he reached Harry, he curled his arm around his waist, pulling him close. He didn't seem perturbed there were silent Gryffindors watching a few yards away.
Harry started towards the door, content that Draco was following. He couldn't resist the call over his shoulder. "Good to see you, Hermione, Neville." Draco's amusement had corporal form.
"Can I ask what brought this on? You've been watching us for a fortnight."
Harry glanced at Draco, shrugging. His tone was swamped in drowsiness; if he was weary, why didn't he just go to bed? Simple solution. "If I'm wasting my time, I at least want some company."
"Tch, Potty," He tutted, trying to stifle a yawn. "You haven't wasted a single second."
Harry was undecided on that.
.
.
.
"Stop tossing." Draco mumbled to Harry's left, head buried under his pillow. He had practically leapt at the bed as soon as they crossed the room, and hadn't moved since. Harry didn't think he was tossing, but then any movement would seem extravagant in comparison to the corpse besides him.
"I can't sleep." Harry admitted, staring into the darkness of the curtain. He knew Draco was waiting for him to divulge why he was shifting. There was silence in the room, but the question hovered in the air between them. It was strange that they could communicate without speaking.
"Nightmares?" Came the soft response. His words were simple, and therefore calming. There was no judgement in his tone.
"They've stopped, for the most part. And any I do get don't even fall in the ballpark of scary."
"Cross it off the list, then." Draco yawned, pulling the blankets tighter around himself. He had boasted about a lack of tiredness the walk back through the dungeon, but as soon as his head hit the pillow he was yawning.
Harry made a noncommittal sound for a response; he didn't want to cross it off the list. That only left six items. Five, because he was hesitant in removing another point. He didn't want his list to be completed so soon.
"You're exhausted. You can hear it in your voice."
"I know that; try telling my brain. It thinks sleeping is a waste of time."
Harry blinked as Draco rolled over, shuffling closer until they were brushed up against one another. He leant over so his lips brushed against Harry's forehead, just to the left of his scar.
"Let Harry sleep," He murmured, whispering into Harry's hairline. "He's exhausted."
"You're such a git." Harry shoved Draco off him, rolling his eyes at the tired smirk the other wore. He shrugged, unperturbed at Harry's insult.
"I did as you asked."
"I was obviously using figurative language."
"That's a very big word for you." Draco mumbled, flopping back onto his pillow. Harry watched as he yawned loudly, unable to keep his eyes open. "I'm actually very impressed." It was amazing how Draco could be on the verge of sleep and yet still manage to summon his little quips. "What's your brain buzzing about?"
Harry shrugged in the darkness, not caring that the action would have been missed. "Anything and everything. Nothing important."
"Such as?"
"I dunno. Such as…uh, Theo and Pansy. They should both man up and just date each other."
"That's ridiculous-" Draco didn't get to finish snorting when Harry spoke over him.
"You watch them! They're worse than Ron and Hermione when they were dodging one another, and that's saying something. I mean, Pansy will turn to every single Slytherin for help before she glances at Theo; she's obviously avoiding him. And if you take a step back and watch Theo, it's obvious he only has eyes for her. She only has to crook her finger and he's leaping to her aid. Seriously, watch them at breakfast tomorrow."
"Mm-hmm."
"And I'm thinking of that godawful quidditch match the other day; how the hell did Ravenclaw lose by three hundred points? They've got the better seeker, and the better keeper. There is no way Hufflepuff should have won, even if one of Ravenclaw's usual chaser was down. It was embarrassing to watch."
"Mm-hmm."
"I got another letter from Dudley; he wants to meet up again, and see how I am. I don't know if I want to do it though." He was rather grateful that their backs were pressed against one another; it meant Draco wouldn't be privy to Harry's expressions, and therefore wouldn't be able to read his mind with his omnipotent stares. "I think my appearance has changed somewhat."
No mumble from Draco.
Harry waited for a few moments for the Slytherin to make his little comment, but nothing was forthwith. He frowned to himself, listening to the deep breaths of the body besides his.
"Draco, are you still awake?" Harry didn't know whether to be comforted or disappointed when Draco's only response was to mumble incoherently. None of the sounds resembled English. He assumed he was on the cusp of sleep. "I'm going to keep talking." No reply.
"I think you should shave your hair off, and dye your eyebrows hot pink." Nothing.
"I want you. Right here, right now." Not even a twitch.
Hmm.
Harry sighed loudly. Would it be awfully strange if he continued to talk about nothing? It was oddly calming to just speak, even if Draco hadn't been paying attention.
"I want to tell you about so much." Harry found himself saying quietly, staring into the darkness of the room. "I want to tell you about Sirius; he was my godfather, and he was going to rescue me from the Dursley's. But your aunt killed him, so how am I supposed to bring him up?" Nothing.
Harry sighed, pressing his back against Draco's for the warmth. He shut his eyes to try to sleep. "If you were that tired, why didn't you just come to bed? You're such a git. Only god knows why I love you."
Harry's eyes flung open as Draco shuffled behind him. Oh, damn that arse to hell and back! He was supposed to be asleep!
He needn't have worried; Draco rolled over, and curled an arm around Harry's stomach, his nose pressing into the back of Harry's neck. The only noise that came out of his mouth was a mumble. He was sleeping.
Harry wasn't far behind.
.
.
.
"You're such a bloody git!"
"Why Harry," Draco was unperturbed as they entered their Defence classroom. In fact, he wore that bloody infuriating smirk he had woken with; it hadn't left his face all day. "That's what you love about me."
Harry growled, slamming his bag onto the desk and dragging out the homework. The other Slytherins sat in their respective seats in silence; they didn't know why Draco was prodding Harry, but for once they were keeping out of it. "So you say." He snapped in frustration, shoving the bag to the floor and glaring out the window.
"Mm-hmm." The lack of words in his reply was just as maddening; you could hear the smugness radiating from his thick blonde head.
"You're nothing more than a ferret."
"Doesn't matter," Merlin, he was in a good mood. Usually a mention of the rodent would damped his temperament. "You still love me."
They were getting quite a few glances from the rest of the class while they waited for the professor to arrive; it wasn't as if the twat was keeping his voice down. And it had been like this all bloody day; everywhere he could throw that infernal word, he did. Slughorn had asked the class for the key ingredient in their new potion, and what do you think the complete idiot had answered? He was infuriating!
"Shout it out to the world!" Harry scoffed, "Bellow it from the rooftops! I'm sure there's some muggle halfway up the mountain that hasn't heard yet."
"Don't challenge him!" Blaise whined, slumping his head on his desk. Hmm, he did have a point-
"HARRY POTTER-"
"SHUT UP you wanker!" Harry managed to drag the idiot's head back inside the room, twisting his ankle around the gits. They both toppled to the floor with a chair, which Harry shoved aside to sit on Draco's stomach and pin him there. He flattened his palm across his mouth, frowning to himself about the smirk he felt under his hand. Draco's shoulders shook with laughter.
He bent over so their noses were almost touching. "Enough." He growled, "If I have to hear that fucking word one more time, I'm going to remove your tongue. How terrifying do you think the big bad ex-death eater will be when he can only say 'wuv'?"
His eyebrows didn't even raise with surprise; he continued to laugh. He wasn't distressed; both hands were free, and yet they stayed by his side. He could have shoved Harry off anytime he wanted.
"If I remove your hand, are you going to behave?"
Draco only blinked.
Giving him another warning stare, Harry slowly removed his hand. He was only too aware that the rest of the class were standing and craning their heads to get a better view.
"You're such a badass, Harry." Draco drawled, amusement trickling into his tone. It sounded like he was struggling not to laugh again. "Tackling and trying to have your way with me in class. You really must lov-" Harry snapped his hand back to his mouth, groaning loudly.
"What do I have to do to get you to stop?" He was well aware that it sounded like he was whining. "You were supposed to be asleep, you traitor!"
Draco blinked.
"Tell me what I have to do to get you to stop."
Draco blinked.
Harry sighed loudly, inching his hand over despite Blaise beseeching him not to.
"Say it again."
Harry stared, feeling his own face turn red. He had been embarrassed all day, but that was child's play compared to this! The slight discomfort was a speck besides this mortification. "What?"
"Say it again." Draco was grinning now. "I don't need such an extravagant display as shouting from the windows. I'm sure a whisper will do."
"I don't…what…no!" Harry shoved himself off of the blonde, scrambling to his feet. He was insane. Draco Malfoy was fucking insane! He didn't seriously expect Harry to just blurt it out on command, did he? This was excruciatingly embarrassing!
Draco followed him up, bat-crazy grin still on his face. The rest of the class jumped when they spotted him; a smiling Malfoy was unprecedented. "Say it. Say it. Say it." Draco crooned, cocking his head to the side. He looked like a bird cornering its prey.
"Never!"
"I bet I can get you to say it before the day's out."
"And pigs will fly!"
Draco's eyes glanced beyond Harry for a split second before snapping back to green. "Challenge accepted."
"You can't accept your own bloody challenge!"
"The giant squid is sunbaking." Harry placed his irritation on pause to glance out the window, confirming Draco's statement. It was infuriating that his lips were now twitching with a smile, when a moment ago he wanted to punch the smug git in the face. "Want to go poke it?"
Harry ignored the bewildered glances of his classmates. "Of course."
Draco's grin hadn't shifted for a second. "Last one there has to skinny-"
Harry didn't wait for him to finish; a sentence like that couldn't end happily for him. So, with reflexes he thought had abandoned him, he leapt over the desk and sprinted to the door, dodging around students as he went. A chuckle behind him was the only indication Draco was following; hopefully he would lose him on the moving staircases, though. He wasn't losing this race.
His sides stung and his breath came in short puffs, but Harry kept running. He leapt down the stairs three at a time, and shouted at first years to leap from his way. He didn't dare look back, because he could hear Draco's feet thudding just behind him. He was quite happy classes were starting soon, because most of the corridors were empty.
Hagrid happened to be entering the school just as Harry entered the hall. "Hold it!" He shouted, laughing at Hagrid's blank face. He stared at the gap, judging the space. He could fit through that, and he didn't think Draco would want to skive around Hagrid.
"Harry? What's goin' on?"
Harry leapt through the gap, smiling at the sound of it closing behind him. Ha! Hagrid wasn't about to let Draco chase him through the halls. He was going to win.
He didn't let up on his sprint, however. And it was lucky he didn't; he chanced a glance at the door, watching a now determined blonde shove it open and continue his chase. He must have been going easy on Harry before, because now he was rapidly gaining.
Harry snapped his head back to the front. He was almost there!
Ten more metres! Five! Two!
Harry's foot sank into the muddy bank. One more step and-!
A large force…Harry wasn't stupid enough to believe it was anything other than Draco, tackled him, sending them both into the murky water.
They sank, a tangle of limbs and robes. Harry's mouth filled with water, and he had to snatch at his glasses to avoid them being swept away by the sudden onslaught of water. He kicked to the surface, unable to breathe even when he got there. He was stuck in a weird mixture of coughing and laughing.
He struggled back to the bank, collapsing into the mud to pant. Draco followed, quickly discarding his robe, shoes, socks, and tie.
"Still…going to…strip?" Harry asked between pants. Good god, why was he so exhausted? A run like that usually wouldn't even leave him out of breath.
"You had a head start." Draco huffed, but he was still smiling. "And if the door hadn't shut on me, you would be parading your tanned arse out here."
Harry forced himself to sit up and shrug his robe off. The longer they waited for him to catch his breath, the increased likelihood that the giant squid would return to the depths of the lake. It wasn't that warm today, but the sun was out. The squid wouldn't stay on the surface forever. His tie quickly followed, and he still panted as he removed his waterlogged shoes and socks.
He glanced at Draco. Damn it. Harry sighed to himself before unwillingly unbuttoning his shirt. It was hard to feel good about oneself when they had Draco, pale but normal, standing with all the confidence in the world radiating from every pore. He knew he had lost weight and Draco didn't seem to mind, but he also tried to show as little skin as possible when Draco was around. Jumpers and trousers all year round; he had always been skinny, but not like this.
While Draco emitted confidence, Harry radiated sickness.
His pants joined the pile so he was sitting in his boxers, and feeling quite small.
"Do you think our classmates are watching?" Draco asked, stepping into the water with a little grimace. The sun may be out, but the water was anything but warm.
"Without a doubt." Harry breathed, inching forwards towards the water. He already had mud up his legs and boxers, but he didn't uncross his hands. He would rather hide away his sickly body.
"Hmm, it's a bit of a distance away." Draco waded back towards Harry, reaching over to grab his arms and drag him into the water. "You'll be alright to reach it?"
"Of course I will." Harry didn't mention that he was actually a bit doubtful. "Getting back is another thing."
"Getting back is the easy bit; it'll throw us." Harry scoffed, following him deeper into the water. The squid was more than a hundred metres away; it was a pretty far swim. At least he wasn't going to have clothes dragging him down; if he drowned, it would be due to his own incompetence.
"And you're not bringing your wand?"
"It's a squid; what can it possibly do to us?"
Harry wasn't so sure; Fred and George had been told off for poking it years ago. And everyone knew Hagrid's repertoire for 'safe' magical creatures.
Harry stepped and fell underwater. The lake was plummeting deeper than he expected; he glanced back at the bank, after he had coughed up the murky water, frustrated at the lack of a distance between them. He had thought he would be walking a lot further than this.
"You don't look too happy." Draco remarked, swimming effortlessly besides him. "Your list is almost finished now. Isn't that cause for celebration?"
"I just don't like swimming that much." Harry conceded, panting at the effort to swim and talk. At this rate he wouldn't make it to the squid. "Didn't get a lot of practise growing up."
"But you swam during the triwizard tournament."
"Gillyweed." Harry spat out a bit of water, "Gives you gills, and flippers."
"Hmm." Draco floated on his back, still easily keeping up with Harry's efforts. "I didn't really pay much attention to you during the tournament; I had my money on Krum winning."
"Not Cedric?" Draco glanced at him, face rather still.
"From what I know about Hufflepuffs…no."
"You don't give nearly enough credit to that house." Harry snorted, turning back to the squid...He paused, blinking. "Hey, is it moving?" His voice held just the right amount of fear, he thought. Considering his heart had just stopped beating, and his insides had just turned cold.
As he watched the squid drifted just under the surface, creating a small wave in the direction it was heading. Towards them.
Draco turned back towards the squid, frowning slightly at the wave. He didn't seem too perturbed, but his voice was cold. "I…don't like this. Get back to the shore."
Harry didn't need to be told twice; he struggled back the way they came, chest panting and limbs thrashing in the water. Draco started back too, pausing as he got just past Harry. He saw the glance, and knew what it was about. He tried to go faster.
"Christ, today Harry!"
"I'm trying!" Harry snapped back, glancing over his shoulder; mistake. The wave was almost upon them. Shit. Shit! "What do squid eat?!" Probably not the best question, from Draco's exasperated glare. Fish, right? Or were they herbivores? "Just…go! I'll be right behind you!"
"I'm not about to fucking leave-!" Draco was pulled under the water; there was barely a bubble from where he had just been.
"No! Give him back!" Harry bellowed, thrashing in the water for the hand of the missing blonde. Something large and slimy whacked against his back, shoving him aside in the water. He felt a tentacle begin to wrap around his leg, another his arm. He searched around frantically, but couldn't see any blonde in the foamy water.
The squid didn't look quite as big when it was far away; Harry could barely move without hitting one of its appendages. He tried to rip his leg free, but the tentacle only tightened its grip.
It felt as if his entire lower half was being crushed; he certainly couldn't breathe. Water filled his mouth as he was dragged beneath the surface, closer to the body of the ferocious giant.
It let go.
Harry flailed to the surface, kicking himself away from the beast. A tentacle suddenly thrashed around the creature, bursting out of the water. Harry watched hopelessly as Draco was flung away from the squid, soaring across the water before landing near the bank. What was the height someone could safely jump into water? How high were diving boards?
He swam as quickly as he could, not questioning why it let him go. Every second felt like a minute. He refused to glance behind, because he didn't want to see how close the thing was. He knew it could grab him again if it wanted; he was easy pickings.
Harry almost sobbed relief as he scrambled onto the bank, ignoring his clothes to sprint along the lake. Where was Draco? Where was he? There were a few panicky-
There!
Harry ran into the water, snatching up whatever limbs he could reach and dragged him towards the bank.
"Argh! Let go!" Draco snapped, snarling until Harry had pulled him into the mud and grass and a fair few metres from the water. "You're killing me, let go!"
"Are you alright?" Pretty stupid question, "Are you hurt?"
"Yes to both." Draco snarled, reaching to hold his right arm. "And I think it's safe to assume the giant squid eats people."
Harry fell to his knees besides Draco; his hands were shaking, and he didn't think his legs would hold him up anymore. Christ, he had almost lost him. There had been a heart stopping moment when Harry had thought the blonde was dead.
"Hey," Draco's voice had turned stern. "Look at me." Harry didn't want to; he could feel the fear and exhaustion sliding away, which had left his eyes filled with tears. He didn't let them drop, but he still didn't want Draco to see. "Look at me." Harry unwillingly opened his eyes. "I'm alive. You're alive. There's nothing to worry about."
"Why were we so stupid? We just jumped into a lake with a giant fucking squid!"
"We've also duelled in a hospital, and fought the Womping Willow. It's us." Draco drawled, slumping over so he was lying in the mud. "Tell me you touched it. Halle-fucking-lujah." He added at Harry's quick nod.
"I hate to say it," And he really did, "but hospital wing?"
"Yes." Draco groaned, but an exasperated laugh managed to escape before he could catch it. "The bloody thing bit me. I most definitely want to go to the hospital wing."
"It bit you?" Harry shoved himself forwards again, wincing at the pain in his legs. Now that the adrenaline was fading the pain returned, and he was not a fan. Christ, it felt like his legs had been repeatedly hit with a bat. And, after a glance, looked like it too. "I didn't even know they have mouths."
"Oh, it does." Draco scoffed, "Didn't really like it when I bit it back, though."
"You bit it back?"
"What was I supposed to do?" His tone was defensive, and loud. "The fucker had quite a big grip around my body; I could barely move! I was acting on instinct!"
"Alright! I'll get our stuff." Harry stumbled to his feet, grimacing. His feet were shaking with each step, but nothing seemed to be broken. Gritting his teeth, he began the trek back to their clothes. It took a fair bit of fumbling and searching, but he also found his glasses. He didn't even want to get a look at his legs; they were bruised enough while blurred. The clear picture wasn't going to be pretty.
He wobbled back to Draco, gaping when he got closer.
"That good, huh?" Draco drawled, raising a hand so Harry could help him to his feet.
Bad would have been an understatement. Large bruises were already sprouting up across his entire body, and bloody dripped down his right arm. Said arm was a mass of lumped and shapes; it hurt to look at.
Harry had to force his eyes away before he could help Draco stand. It was only then he noticed the gaping hole in his shoulder; bite was an underestimation. He was missing a chuck from his shoulder down to his middle back. His back was just a mass of blood.
"Holy shit-!"
"I don't want to know." It was only the fact he seemed to be talking through his teeth that Harry snapped his jaw shut. "Just…" He didn't need to finish the sentence.
Harry grabbed hold of his left arm, supporting him as they made their way back to the castle. Clothes didn't matter right now; Draco's skin was cold and clammy to touch, and he was breathing pretty heavily. He needed the hospital wing.
"It's just a large scratch." Harry felt like he had to speak after they hobbled in silence through the grounds. His own legs were screaming out in pain, but how could he even think about himself when Draco was gripping his hand tight enough to break bones? "It'll probably get infected if we don't go. It's not too deep."
"You're shit at lying." Draco's voice was unsteady.
"Do you reckon the class was watching?" Harry asked instead of replying to him. They both shuddered as they climbed the steps into the castle; it was excruciating. "It really was a triumphant fail."
"Fail?" Draco stared at the stairs with a look akin to dread. "We got what we wanted."
"I seriously didn't think it would be that vicious." Harry added, grabbing hold of the handrail for added support. If his own legs were about to collapse, Draco's would be unfeeling by now. "I was imagining something a lot more affectionate."
"Of course you would." Draco shuddered again, pausing on the step. Harry glanced at him, but he had his eyes scrunched closed. His adrenaline was probably wearing off by now too, or his shock. Harry was surprised he could walk.
"We can't stop."
"I just need a minute." He snarled back, hand tightening against Harry's. A quick glimpse showed his fingers were turning purple.
"We're not stopping." He felt like the worst person in existence, but he took a step, forcing Draco to follow. They had a trail of blood following them; they weren't stopping until Pomfrey had shoved Draco into a bed. "If we wait for a bit, you're not going to want to continue."
"I don't think you appreciate my condition." Draco growled, "I need to stop."
"Come on." Harry took another step, grimacing at the whine that left Draco's lips. "We're almost there."
"Argh! Stop!"
Harry tightened his grip, and continued up the stairs. Thank god the hospital wing was on the first floor; he would have wept if they needed to climb another staircase. By the time they had reached the top, Draco was snarling ever insult he could muster at Harry; he didn't mind. It was a distraction from his shattered arm and disfigured back.
A small Ravenclaw girl poked their head out of a nearby doorway, probably inquiring about the foul language being yelled down the corridor. Her mouth gaped when she saw them; probably because of their injuries, but more than likely about their lack of clothing. Besides the blood was a trail of clothing; Harry had lost two shoes and a shirt that he knew about.
"You! Stop!" Harry yelled, surprised when she bit her lip and hesitantly came into the corridor. He had expected her to turn and run. "Tell Madam Pomfrey he's been bitten by the giant squid!"
He thought he saw her eyebrows raise in disbelief, and a hint of a smirk on her face, but she turned and ran towards the hospital wing. Thank god. At least she would be ready for them, or come out to meet them. He didn't think he would make it the next two hallways.
"-fucking half-blood muggle reject." Draco was grimacing, but kept pace with Harry's wobbles. "You're a bad fiancé."
"I love you too." Harry sighed, scowling as another shoe fell from his grip and clattered to the ground. He couldn't waste the time collecting it; god help them if Madam Pomfrey didn't give them robes. Draco's hand tensed.
"I can't believe you." He grumbled, "You're saying it now? Bloody half-brained Gryffindor discard-"
Harry spluttered, forcing them around a corner and into another hallway. "Sorry, Princess-"
"Why aren't I surprised?" Madam Pomfrey rounded the corner, wand out and shaking her head. The Ravenclaw hurried past them, making a rather pointed glance again at their bodies. "It's always you two. Attacked by a hippogriff, dementor, a bludger, the Womping Willow, each other, and now the giant squid?" It was an impressive list. "Oh Merlin…"
Harry willingly let Madam Pomfrey take over supporting Draco, slumping against the wall. She threw him a glance, but he shook his head. "I'm fine, just a bit bruised."
"We'll see about that." She huffed, starting down the corridor. "Come on, follow me." It was rather surprising to hear her gentle tone trying to soothe Draco. They had knocked heads more than once this year.
Harry swayed behind them, sinking into a chair as soon as he wobbled into the hospital wing. That was it; he wasn't getting up.
Madam Pomfrey was fussing over Draco; she had him sit on a stool, and thrust potions into his face quicker than he could drink them. Though he grimaced at the taste, and definite pain, he drank them up gratefully. "You're lucky it just grazed you; even the smaller squids can break bones with a bite."
Harry blinked at that, but inside he was struggling to not be sick. Grazed? Grazed? He was missing a chunk from his shoulder and back! The enormity of what they had just done sank in; they were bloody lucky neither of them were dead.
Harry watched as Draco winced again, but he was already looking better. They had been in the hospital wing for only a few minutes, and already his arm was mended, the blood was cleared, and she was working on healing the bite. He was still covered in bruises, but one of the potions would probably deal with those.
"…Excuse me." Harry jumped at the small voice, turning in his chair. It was the Ravenclaw, who was holding three shoes, a shirt, a Slytherin tie and a pair of socks. She dumped them with the discarded clothes, smiling at Harry.
"You didn't have to do that." Harry said, quickly continuing as the smile dropped. "I mean, thank you. I'm grateful."
The smile returned. "No problem." But she didn't leave. It took a snap from Pomfrey and a threat of cleaning bedpans that had her scurrying back to the door.
"That one's the biggest gossip I've seen in years." She muttered, gesturing to a bed. "Hop."
Draco stared at her for a moment, undoubtedly imagining the many insults he could generate in response, but eventually stood and wobbled to a bed. He was out of harm's way. Thank god.
"Your turn." She turned her eyes on Harry, staring at him for a bit before approaching. He couldn't help the reflex to cross his arms over his skinny chest.
"I'm only bruised."
"We'll see." She pointed her wand, blinking when Harry yelped and threw himself from the chair.
"No magic!" It was downright painful to watch her expression. "I can't have spells cast on me anymore. It's…"
"His magic is too volatile." Draco spoke up from the bed; no matter how pissed he may be at Harry, he wasn't about to let his magic blow up. "It reacts to external stimuli."
Pomfrey had a strange expression on her face, but she put the wand away. Instead she reached out to help Harry back to his feet. "What about potions?"
"They're still working." Harry mumbled, taking her hand. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment; he really wanted to get changed and hide.
"Take these, then." She handed him two potions, and pointed to the bed next to Draco's. "You can stay here until lunch. I'm sure Headmistress McGonagall will be joining us soon."
Of course she would; Harry was under no assumption that their exploit had gone unnoticed.
He climbed into the bed, wondering how many house-points he was losing for Gryffindor this time. It actually made him laugh.
.
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25.Touch the Giant Squid
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Kelly groaned loudly to show her utter lack of appreciation for the limited choices available on her television. While she treasured muggle sitcoms as much as the next witch with a working TV, there was a limit. And she wasn't finding it rather funny as she screened the documents Malfoy and Pals had sent for that week.
She read about disease, and listened to puns. It was rather distasteful to giggle while reading about an experiment that had left the poor wizard screaming until his throat bled, and then effectively drowned him. She clicked the remote.
Muggle news left her depressed. This one was a repeat. Wow, this woman had no qualms about strutting around naked. Kelly paused for a moment, watching the unclothed blonde parade about. Oh, she was going swimming. Well, that made it understandable. She clicked the next button again, and again.
There was nothing to distract her from the gloom that suffocated the parchment before her. The work was obviously divided; half was an elegant script that listed questions and thoughts about strengthening the control of magic. The other half couldn't have been more different; Malfoy was adamant on ridding Potter of his magic completely. His suggestions were varied, and had no boundaries; it ranged from using unicorn blood, to somehow utilizing a Dementor.
The Dementor was a rather clever idea; it was able to locate the soul, and remove it. As magic came from the soul, it should only be a small leap to remove the magic and leave the soul. And after she made that phenomenal discovery, she should fly to the moon and claim it for witches and wizards everywhere. Kick down the American flag and replace it with a jolly roger. Hell, while she was at it, why didn't she declare world peace? Win the lottery? Cure all disease across the globe?
Kelly groaned again, throwing her head back onto the cushions behind her. Why was she going above and beyond for this patient? Little Mildred had passed away that afternoon. Mildred, only three, was as comfortable as possible. She had her favourite dolls around her, and her mother clasping her hand tightly and kissing her forehead. She didn't feel a thing when it was finally time for her to go. But where was the unrelenting research on Mildred's sickness? The refusal to give up? The many, many hours pouring over medical books?
Kelly ran a hand through her untidy hair. She wasn't allowed to do this to herself; Mildred's disease was being studied by many hospitals. Her disease wasn't being ignored; there was no stigma surrounding it.
Potter's sickness was disregarded, at every possible turn. Nobody even tried to treat it.
She flopped her head back, and stared dully at Malfoy's research. It was useless; every stupid sentence. She scanned the parchment, eyes narrowing at the bottom. Every week there was the same daft word. It was usually underlined, or circled. This time he had circled it to the extent of ripping a hole in the parchment.
Evanesco.
He thought a simple vanishing spell would be able to do the trick. A spell that every fifth year student would be able to perform; as if something that modest could possibly remove magic.
She snarled at the word; he was insistent, and it was pissing her off. You couldn't see magic; how could you vanish something you couldn't see? And why couldn't he wrap his thick head around it? The best they were going to get would be if Potter could retain control of his magic, if for a time. A couple more months.
Her eyes glanced back at the word. Damn that Malfoy brat.
Sighing, she tossed the papers aside and snatched up her wand. She had to wait until she regained feeling in her foot before crossing to her kitchen, and grabbing a glass of water. She filled it, conjured a lid, and tipped the glass to the side. A pocket of air drifted into view.
"Evanesco…shit!" The glass vanished, splashing her with water. Snarling, she grabbed a new glass, filling it quickly. "Evanesco!" This time the water vanished. "Evanesco!" Water. "Evanesco!" Glass.
Kelly snarled to herself, throwing the glass angrily in the sink. This wasn't working.
She flung open the fridge instead, grabbing a can of lemonade and filling a new, un-smashed glass. Calm. Focus on the spell. She dipped her wand into the glass, kneeling so she was eye level with her chosen bubble. The tip of the wand was millimetres from the perfect little pocket of carbon dioxide; it was the closest thing. She stared at it, willing her magic to work. "Evanesco."
The bubble popped.
"Screw this," Kelly sighed, tossing her wand to the bench. She went back to her couch, flopping down and reaching for the remote. She took a sip of her lemonade, watching as the bubbles floated to the surface. She had tried, and failed. Malfoy couldn't expect more than that.
She found a sitcom she had seen several times before, and knew half the lines to the episode. It would do. So she mouthed lines, refused to laugh at the jokes, and let her mind wander.
Her eyes drifting back to the lemonade, staring at the bubbles. They floated to the top of the glass, and escaped as they reached the air. They didn't pop.
Slowly, she found herself sitting up again.
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Ron had given up the impossible homework a while ago; he flipped aimlessly through the book instead, keeping up appearances for Hermione. He made sure to jot random notes down, none of which made sense, or were needed. Neville, Dean and Seamus joined them today, as well as Luna and Ernie Macmillan.
McGonagall had set an impossible essay, and everyone pushed it to the side to do later. It was now due tomorrow, and no one had made much headway. It was a bit of a shock that even Hermione and Ernie had left it to the last night. So, they were making a collective effort. Luna came for emotional support.
In fact, most eighth years were in the library. A fight had already broken out by two different study groups that wanted the same book. Ron couldn't be bothered; he only had his introduction down, and it was 'Troll' worthy. He had just repeated the essay question as many different ways as possible.
The stress was substantial; younger year groups diverted their paths as soon as they entered the library. They kept their eyes down, and powerwalked through the tables.
Laughter roared from across the room, dragging Ron's stare. The Slytherins were the only ones here that didn't seem completely harassed; it was annoying everyone else, too. Their constant laughter seemed mocking.
They were crowded around a desk; not a single bloody book in sight. They had parchment out, of course, under the pretence they were studying so Prince couldn't chuck them out. She had already approached them twice about their rowdiness, but she didn't ask them to leave. The Slytherins could get away with murder recently, especially since Harry had joined their little group. The Professors seemed to overlook any rule breaking; yesterday they had swum out to the giant squid, and hadn't received so much as a detention.
Ron watched Zabini talk animatedly, waving his arms around in grand gestures. Parkinson was laughing that ear-splitting shriek of hers, whacking the table with each screech. Even Malfoy was smiling, which was odd enough for him. Harry though…Harry was in stitches. He was grinning wider than Ron had seem him all year, holding his sides as if he had a stitch. It looked like he was about to topple from his chair.
Ron couldn't help but smile ruefully. How could anyone begrudge him his new friendship if it had him smiling like that?
He watched as Zabini stopped his enthusiastic story, gesturing instead to the table. The others all nodded, but reached for...
Bastards! They were playing a drinking game, right in the middle of the library! While everyone else struggled through homework!
Ron couldn't help but scowl as they passed around a bottle, taking a swig from it. Zabini was keeping an eye on Prince.
Typical Slytherins; having fun while everyone else suffered.
He watched as they finished their drinks, and placed the bottle back on the table, where it vanished. What? Oh, of course. They were using the Invisibility Cloak. They laughed again, and this time it sounded like they were heckling everyone.
Ron would be lying if he wasn't a bit jealous.
He continued watching them; it was better than doing his homework. This time Parkinson was talking, cocking her head to the side as if she was thinking. It looked like she was decided which one of them to torture; they all looked worried. The only one that wasn't staring at her with horror was…Zabini, who was staring straight back at Ron.
Ron shuffled uneasily; he hadn't expected to be caught, but it wasn't as if he was doing anything untoward. They were the loudest thing in the library; they were bound to catch some attention.
It was like staring at a wolf; you weren't supposed to show fear, right? He had heard rumours that you were supposed to stare right back. It was hard, considering Zabini didn't blink.
Eventually he smirked, turning back to the table. His eyes lingered for a moment after he had turned his head, however. It was like a bloody warning.
And Ron could breathe again. He turned back to his parchment quickly, writing gibberish. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he was under no delusion that everyone at that table was now staring at him. He flipped a few pages, pretending to be absorbed with his book, but the feeling didn't weaken.
"Hey, Luna," He said, frowning at the book. "Can you do me a favour?"
"Of course." She replied dreamily; she was next to him, and the only one that had a direct view of the Slytherins. "I'll happily get rid of those wrackspurts for you."
"Uh…another time. Are the Slytherins staring at me? No, don't all look!" He sighed, slumping down so his head was leaning on the table. Every single person at his table had turned to stare at the Slytherins. Merlin! Didn't they know how to be inconspicuous!?
"They're either staring at you, or they're admiring my new earrings." Luna replied happily, "Now they're waving."
Ron groaned, turning his head. What did it matter? And they were indeed waving; all four of them. Harry included.
He groaned again.
"Why're they waving at you, Ron?" Seamus asked, confused.
"I don't know."
"It's probably because you were staring at them first." Luna tried to help, turning back to her parchment. Her work thus far was a picture of some…creatures. They certainly weren't magical creatures, but he doubted they were muggle creatures either. They were horrible; half human, half spider…thing. He worried for Luna sometimes, he really did.
Hermione had also lost interest and was writing notes again. Maybe he should just do his work.
He glanced at the table again, frowning. They were still waving.
"You're being incredibly rude, Weasley." Malfoy called out, smirking. What did they expect him to do? Wave…back?
Ron sighed, raising his hand in a short little flap. Malfoy smirked, pointing to where the bottle was on the table. He assumed he was commanding the others to drink. It was passed around the table…
Four.
Where the hell had Zabini gone?
Just as he had the thought, something brushed against the back of his head. There was a moment of stillness, then an audible, loud…sniff.
Ron jerked to his feet, spinning around. "Bugger off, Zabini!" He snapped, glowering as he heard the invisible boy snicker to himself.
The Slytherin table roared with laughter again, though this time at least Harry wasn't quite as enthusiastic. He watched as Zabini pulled off the Invisibility Cloak with a flourish, grin across his tanned face.
Right.
Right.
"Let it go, Ron." Hermione tried, but it was too late. He was already storming over to the table, scowling as they smirked widely at his arrival. It was all just a big game to them.
"Oi, you lot!" He tried, but Malfoy cut him off.
"Nice of you to join us, Weasley. Pull up a chair."
"There are other people trying to…what?"
"Well, you've been longingly watching us for a while," Malfoy drawled, leaning back in his chair arrogantly. "So we thought we'd throw you a bone. Join us." It was clearly a challenge, or a threat. And Ron really didn't want to find out which one.
Harry looked apprehensive besides Malfoy. "You don't have to-" He tried, but he was cut off too.
"None of us have any issue with another player." A glance at the others showed their canary eating smirks all around. "Do we, Harry?"
Harry was struggling with himself; he had a pained look on his face. Ron didn't know whether it was because he didn't want him there, or because he was trying to give him an out. He was just as flummoxed by the situation as Harry was; he had stormed over to shout at them. The last thing he expected was to be invited to join their game.
"No." Harry eventually ground out, sighing. "But you lot-!"
"We're being nice, Harry." Malfoy's smirk held nothing nice about it. He kicked out a chair, cocking his head to the side. "Join us, Weasley."
Ron stood there, stumped. This obviously didn't bode well for him; they were probably going to make him regret this. Harry was staring at him as if trying to tell him to run.
But he didn't want to study.
And it was a chance to spend some time with Harry. He could put up with the Slytherins if it meant he got to have a bit of fun with his mate again.
"…What game are-?"
"And he's in!" Zabini shouted, grabbing his arm and jerking him towards the chair. Ron stumbled, and almost fell to the ground. It was a miracle he made it to the chair.
He didn't miss how Harry had his head in his hands, though. He was shaking his head, grumbling to himself.
It was also hard to notice that the alcohol was suddenly in full view; they had a couple of bottles across the table; one was already empty. They must have used a charm as a perception filter.
"It's your turn." Nott said with his quiet voice; he was the only one without a large grin on his face.
Harry sat up, glancing at Ron quickly before turning away. "Pansy." The Slytherin blinked in surprise, turning to face Harry. She obviously hadn't expected him to speak to her. "You can admit which house your crush belongs to," Ron frowned. This game...Truth or Dare? "Or you can kiss…uh, whoever, let's make it Blaise."
Parkinson's eyes flashed angrily, but she still answered. Her voice was ice. "Slytherin."
"Eew, you like one of the-?" Zabini exclaimed, holding up his hands in defence as she snapped her head towards him.
"You know the rules!" She snapped, snatching up her drink quickly and taking a sip. Ron sat there quietly; Harry and Malfoy were glancing at one another knowingly. It was like some little message was being communicated here. "Weasley." Oh shit. "You can dance around the table, stripping as you go, until you're starkers." Oh shit. "Or you can go kiss…uh, whoever," She taunted at Harry, eyes narrowed. "Let's make it Longbottom."
Ron sat there in shock. "…I…what?"
"Up you pop." She sneered. "Time's ticking."
Ron glanced around, eyes landing on the grimacing Harry. "I thought it was truth or dare?"
"Uh, no." He answered a little awkwardly. He slid one of the bottles over to him; it was only a reflex that he caught it. "Liquid luck?" He offered instead, turning red as Malfoy snickered besides him.
"Are you playing, or are you going to fuck off?" Parkinson added, slouching down in her chair. Ron got the feeling she was a little peeved.
Well. Was he a Gryffindor, or not?
Ron sighed, downing a drink, and got to his feet. He spun around, practically running back to his previous table. He might as well get it over with quickly.
Behind him, he heard incredulous laughter.
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Harry grinned as the table snickered, eyes on Ron. He seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the fact the Slytherins were definitely picking on him. They had made him tear up what little homework he had actually finished for the day, including McGonagall's essay. They made him put his clothing on backwards, and admit who in Gryffindor he didn't actually get along with. At the moment he was giving Blaise a piggy back around the library, in lieu of telling them the details of losing his virginity. They were not playing nice.
But it was wonderful to have the heat taken off of him, for once. And Draco didn't really have an interest in teasing Ron; it was as if he was trying to get on Harry's good side by refraining himself. Because they all knew that Draco had a plethora of ideas connected to the redhead, and he would not be as friendly as the others were at the moment.
"Get off me." Ron grumbled, shrugging his back as he made it back to the table. "And if you make one more comment, I'll shove my foot up your arse."
"Not my fault you have no horse related humour." Blaise smirked, slumping back down in his chair.
"You know," Harry spoke up, cocking his head to the side as if amazed. "There are four other people at the table. Four other people that are missing out on drinking because you're directing all your questions at Ron. Share the love, Blaise. Bond a bit."
Ron gave him a grateful stare, but Blaise just laughed. "I don't care; I already have my next turn ready. Hope you like singing, Weasley."
"Alright, fine." Harry was already laughing; he couldn't help it. "My turn, Blaise." He glanced at the map again, which he had opened in his lap. This was brilliant. "I gave you a chance."
"Amaze me." Blaise challenged. He had no shame; he was up for anything.
"I'll give it a go." Harry snickered, "You can either retell the marvellous account of Cousin Boris for the entire library, loudly, with gestures and actions," His grin had already dropped. "Or you can hug the next person that enters the library."
"Pfft." Blaise got to his feet, shrugging. "You disappoint me, Potty."
Harry just smiled broadly; he couldn't help but laugh, but he stared right at Blaise's face. He wanted to see it change.
He felt Draco lean against him, staring at the map. "Oh, dear me." He chuckled, "I've raised you into a proper little Slytherin, haven't I?"
Blaise's grin faltered for a moment, but he snapped his head at the door as it opened.
They all blinked.
And roared with laughter.
"Oh, you can rot in hell." Blaise snarled, staring in horror as Slughorn crossed the room. "The deepest, darkest pits of the abyss are reserved for people like you!"
Harry laughed, glancing at Ron. His best friend was chuckling to himself, but his eyes shone with vindictive glee. After the embarrassment Blaise had inflicted on him, he wanted to see the Slytherin suffer. And what a brilliant payback.
Ron met his glance, and his smile stretched a bit. They still had each other's backs.
Ron's grin froze, however. He stared at Harry, his face dropping and a frown appearing on his face.
What had caused that look?
Harry frowned, glancing down at himself. Nothing was out of place; not a thread on his jumper, or a bone in his hand. He didn't even have a bruise on display. He glanced behind himself; maybe something had happened out of his sight? Blaise was trying to wrap his arms around a struggling Professor, and the rest of the cohort looked on with laughter, but there was nothing odd happening.
He turned back to the front in time to catch Ron returning his gaze from Draco.
"What?" Harry didn't have the time for worrying anymore. He didn't feel his magic reacting adversely, so he doubted it was that. He had checked himself over and there were no bones popping out or shattering or limbs detaching. "What're you looking at?"
"I…thought I saw something." His voice was hesitant enough to be true. "Must have just been a trick of the light, though."
Harry blinked at him, glancing at the others. Draco's face was as impassive as ever, but Pansy's and Theo's expressions seemed…just a little off. Forced.
"Seriously, what is it?"
Averted eyes all around.
Harry turned to Draco, raising his eyebrows.
Draco stared back, blinking slowly. It was as if he was searching for the right words, and that terrified Harry more than any words could. He could feel the fear sinking in again, engulfing him and clinging to his skin. What could be so bad to make them-?
"Stop panicking." Draco spoke quietly, catching his eyes with his own. "It was just a bruise popping up."
Just a bruise?
"Where? Argh!" Harry had searched his face with his hands, wincing as pain erupted over his entire cheek. He cringed, then again as the movement only intensified the pain. It spread right to his forehead on his left side. What the hell?!
Harry could feel himself panicking as every movement stung. Why hadn't it hurt a moment ago, when he raised his eyebrows?
"Stop pulling faces." Draco's commanded, "It's obviously hurting when you do."
"No shit Sherlock." Harry muttered, reaching to feel his face again. His fingers didn't make it, because his eyes had just landed on Ron.
Ron.
He had just seen a bruise appear on Harry's face. Without cause.
Harry slapped a hand over the left of his face, trying to hide the majority of the bruise. "Uh, don't worry about this. It's just…" Think. Think. "You see…" Think!
"Pomfrey warned this might happen." Draco leaned towards Harry, tutting as he went. He pulled Harry's hand away from his face, wincing slightly. "The squid really did a number on you, didn't it?"
Oh, thank god for Draco.
"I told you guys not to touch it." Nott added, shaking his head. "It brushed up against me once and I had bruises popping up for weeks."
Ron frowned, glancing at them all. "How does that work?" His tone was disbelief.
"You're the one that loved Care of Magical Creatures so much." Pansy sneered, taking another sip of the alcohol. "You tell us."
Harry swallowed nervously; it was hard to seem blasé when every instinct in his body was telling him to leave the room. Out of sight, out of mind. Draco had finally released his hand, so he swiftly covered his face again. It stung, but it was better than parading it about.
"You can tell it was a tentacle." Nott added.
Harry watched Ron glance at them all, still frowning. Though they had good intentions by diverting the attention or minimizing the reaction, it couldn't have been more suspicious. Ron didn't believe their lie for a second.
He should leave before questions popped out.
His fear won out.
Harry shoved himself to his feet, forcing a smile on his face. "I might go get rid of this, then." He tried to seem blasé, but didn't manage it. Not in a long shot. "Can't let the squid have the satisfaction of beating me."
Ron was still frowning at him.
He saw his eyes trail down the length of his body, taking him in.
He was seeing.
So Harry turned, and walked as quickly as he could to the exit without breaking into a run. Even so, he felt like he was fleeing.
.
.
.
Harry had barely made it down two corridors before Draco caught up, snatching at his arm and pulling him to a stop. "Calm yourself." He muttered, dragging the brunette into an alcove. "You can't keep running off whenever something goes wrong."
"Did you see his face?" Harry moaned, still trying to hide his face. "He knows. He fucking knows."
"Calm down." Draco commanded, "It's just a bruise." He reached up to pull the hand away from his face, stilling the need to wince himself. Half of Harry's face had turned black; it creeped from his forehead, around his eye and down to his jaw. It was pretty horrendous. "An insignificant bruise."
Harry's face was scrunched up in pain or panic; it was probably a mixture of both.
"We'll go to the hospital wing," He continued quietly, "Grab a potion, and get rid of it. And then we'll deny its existence for years to come. I'll erase his memory if you want me to." He was being absolutely honest, too. And from Harry's frown, he didn't doubt it for a second.
They walked silently across to the hospital wing.
Draco had seen the realisation flick on behind Weasley's eyes. Oh, he knew.
.
.
.