Chapter 2: Talkin' a hundred miles an hour
Notes:
Hi, thanks for continuing to read on.
Warnings for this chapter: (More in depth at the end)
- Mention of Blood
Think that is all for this chapter actually, let me know if you think anything else needs to be added.
Also, (spoiler) Harry smokes. Because I smoke and I wanted him to as well. I'm English so terms like 'fag' will be used because that's just what we call cigarettes. I also have fact checked prices of things for 1998 and as someone who smokes in 2023, it's a pisstake.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The spirit in the great hall was mystical. Chattering and laughter could be heard all throughout. It was great. The fireplaces on either side of the room cast gentle warmth across the tables, adding to that smell of home. The food was unreal. Mrs Weasley was an amazing chef, but nothing beat Hogwarts. Not that he'd ever tell anyone that.
He looked over the array before him. Everything needed for a roast sat next to other little plates. You had options. Chicken, turkey, beef, pork, and a nut loaf that he never saw actually get touched. Harry could pretend it was like this every year, that everything was fine.
But it wasn't.
The eyes burning into the side of his head was proof of that. Desperately trying not to look. It was a small table as very few students had returned. In fact it was only Gryffindor and Slytherin who came back, those other students not returning for a variety of reasons. So with Harry sitting on the left of the middle of the table, opposite Hermione, it positioned him closest to the Slytherins. Ron sat beside his girlfriend, with Neville flanking Harry.
Around three feet down the table sat Blaise, closest to Harry. Opposite him sat Parkinson, much to Hermione's disapproval. Harry knew that next to Blaise sat Theo Nott but that didn't matter, the man shrouded in the corner mattered.
Almost backed against the wall sat Malfoy, and whilst Harry did his best to not look at the boy, he didn't return the favour. Every time Harry's eyes scanned the room, there he was looking at him through those blonde lashes. But there wasn't anger in his eyes like Harry had expected, he just wasn't sure what it was. As his friends around him spoke and tucked into the food he realised he could just about hear the other group's conversation.
"Are you going to ignore us for the whole week?" Parkinson whispered. She was politely cutting into her food, with the pure blood etiquette training. But the occasional stabbing of her fork made it clear she wasn't happy with whatever they were talking about. Harry stared down at his own plate to make sure he wasn't caught snooping.
"Leave the man be, pans," Blaise muttered back, hand in front of his mouth as he finished his bite.
"You'll talk when you want to, right Draco?" Theo finished, shaking his head slightly at Blaise's lack of decorum. The blonde nodded his head in response but didn't look up, instead kept his eyes locked onto Harry across the table. Harry dared a look over and met those eyes again, causing Malfoy to drop his gaze again. Harry watched him return to pushing his food around his plate, pretending to eat. And instead choosing to only drink his glass of water.
He's just nervous. He's only just left prison, probably not excited to be back at school is all. The looks mean nothing. Nothing .
But they can't mean nothing, it always means something with Malfoy.
"-Harry," Ron said, flicking a small bit of bread over to his friend, "You'd be down for it, wouldn't you?" Harry's eyes scanned his friends, Hermione shaking her head, Dean and Seamus smirking at him, Ron beaming and Neville remaining quiet but with a small smile. They'd gotten used to him listening to their conversations so often didn't need to give context, why would they think this be different? Because Malfoy's back.
Hermione shaking her head means it's a bad idea. But she'd be worse if someone would get hurt. Fuck it.
"Sure," He said plainly, trying to not let on that he had no idea what was going on. Ron's smile spread and suddenly all the boys were excited. Hermione tried to hide the smile on her face by taking a mouthful of cake.
"Then it's decided," Dean said, looking at Seamus to finish,
"Party in the common room."
Fuck .
Of course it would be a party, they'd wanted to do one at the end of 7th year, had been talking about it since 2nd year. They didn't get it and clearly didn't want to wait until the end of the year. However, their current discussion on it was cut short by McGonagall walking behind them.
"Students, as there are so few of you this year, we have decided to create a separate common room for you," Malfoy eyes lifted up to meet Harry's, almost asking if Harry knew they would be sharing. He did. It had actually been his idea. For safety, perhaps it was best that people didn't return to their houses. She had agreed but he didn't quite mean everyone in one place. "I will lead you there now and we can go over a few ground rules on the way. Please follow me."
They stood and followed her, a fair few students had already trickled out of the hall. The four returning Slytherins kept to the back of the group, letting the Gryffindors take the attention from the headmistress.
The rules, as it turns out, were more a lack of them. They no longer had a curfew, could attend Hogsmeade whenever they chose, the uniform was more relaxed, and, to the joy of the boys, now they were 18, drinking was permitted within reason. Of course each lack of rule had guidance. No curfew but don't be an idiot. Go to Hogsmeade but the Hogwarts gates do still get locked and staff won't be happy being woken up to let you in. Relaxed uniform but not jeans and a hoodie. And yes, you can drink, but if a single younger student is caught with it then everyone gets punished and it will be banned. You also weren't allowed to tell other students about the alcohol, or go to lessons drunk. All in all, the students seemed happy with these rules, being treated like adults.
They entered the common room, with a swift password of 'Sicklepuff'. And wow was all Harry could think. It looked like a mixture of the house's common rooms. The soft red sofas with the green silk pillows, the large basking windows of the tower, coupled with the grand fireplace Harry thought resembled the Slytherin one. There were a few desks at the back, surrounded by bookcases. It was an odd mixture of greens and reds but it worked. There was a staircase on the left and right.
Only one door at the top of each.
"Now, boys you will take the staircase on the left, girls staircase on the right. Yes you are all mixed up, and I will not be hearing any complaints." She did a curt nod and waited for students to move towards the stairs, "Classes will begin on Monday, you will get your timetables that morning. For now, get some sleep, and I will be seeing you all tomorrow. Goodnight." She got a few good nights back and made her exit. Giving Harry a small smile on the way out. The Slytherins filtered up the stairs rather quickly, saying a goodnight across the room and closing doors.
"She's the only other girl to return," Hermione stated, staring up at where Parkinson had disappeared only moments before. "It's just us."
"You'll be okay, she won't hurt you or anything." Neville replied, not realising that Hermione was still tense. She wandered over to the other side of the room, waved and ducked into the room.
"We outnumber them," began Seamus, "If they try anything I mean."
"They won't, because we won't." Harry muttered as he started towards the stairs. It's just a room. As he opened the door, with Ron just behind him, he looked over the room.
Each boy had a slightly-larger-than-single bed, small bedside table, a wardrobe and desk. Four beds along one wall, and four along the other. Their trunks were at the bottom of their beds, clearly assigned. All the bed curtains matched their original houses, a deep green and red sprayed across the room.
And then it hit Harry, we outnumber them. Which meant one person was on the same side as all the Slytherins. The Red curtains at the end of the room next to three green were the main give away, the second in was Malfoy. Whilst the other two Slytherin Boys had started to unpack or get ready for bed, Malfoy stood at the end of his, staring at the bed next to him. At the trunk at the bottom. They filed into the room and made their way to their beds, making Harry realise. McGonagall would only put one of them next to Malfoy. 'Build some Bridges, Harry' she had said, months ago now.
He walked over to the bed and looked down at the 'H.P' on the trunk. Yep . His bed was next to Malfoy. He turned his head to the blonde but he was already crouched down getting some things from his trunk. As he stood, his eyes rose to Harry's. And they froze, everyone else busied themselves to keep out of the other house's way. It was also 10.30pm and they were quite ready for bed now. Malfoy had turned and walked towards the bathroom to change, the others already climbing into bed.
Harry had grabbed a pair of light grey joggers and white top, walking around the edge of his bed and changing. He became very glad his bed was in the corner, opposite Ron's. A quick cleaning charm over himself and he was getting ready for sleep. He wasn't quite tired yet so decided to unpack a few things. Mainly just things he'd need in the morning. He wandered back to the end of his bed, grabbing a charms book Hermione had given him and standing back. It was around ten minutes before he heard the room fall silent, a quick glance and all the bed curtains were closed.
Then blonde hair caught the moonlight shining through the window. Everyone else was going to sleep, leaving just Malfoy and Harry standing by their beds, eyes locked onto each other. Malfoy was wearing a pair of green plaid bottoms and light grey top. Short sleeves. Harry's eyes drifted down and stopped on the other boy's arm.
Short sleeved.
Malfoy held his breath, clearly he was waiting for people to get in their beds before coming back out of the toilet. He ran his right hand over the mark, covering it slightly. Their eyes locked again, Malfoy gave a slight nod. So small that anyone could have missed it. But Harry didn't, he never did.
Harry returned the nod, giving a small smile as well, before turning to his bed. He drew the curtains with his wand before reaching out and putting his glasses and wand on the bedside table. He hadn't seen the mark since the boy's trial. It was so dark against his skin, burned in the light. Harry closed his eyes to sleep, but all he could see was that mark. Scarred in his eyes. Malfoy had nodded to him, that was a start at least. Him and Blaise seemed civil. Nott and Parkinson were a closed book but neither were rude to him so he could live with that.
It was going to be okay.
The dark green of the hall flitted across Harry's eyes. Dark doors lining the walls between him and that voice. That hissing radiating from all around him. He was running.
Running down endless corridors and past the same doors over and over again. He could hear the hissing getting closer. He turned to look over his shoulder but saw nothing there. The snake wasn't gaining on him. He was gaining on the snake.
Losing breath, he pulled a door open and let it slam behind him. More hallways. More doors. More green. More noise. He kept running. And running. And running. Until he couldn't anymore. He bent over with his hands on his knees. The snake was getting away from him but he couldn't keep it up.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inh-
"Potter!"
He turned his head to the side, looking at the door that voice came from. He remembered that scream. That desperation. He pulled on the handle but it wouldn't budge. The hissing got louder. So loud it was in his head. In his bones. It wasn't saying anything. Couldn't he speak to snakes? He banged on the door, kicking the base of it and pulling the handle with everything in him.
The hissing stopped.
Harry took a step back and looked at the floor. Water began to flow from under the door. Not water. That's not water. It's too dark, too smooth, too strong. He could smell it. That's not water. It reached his shoes and Harry stopped breathing altogether. That's not water. That's… oh god.
He felt the tug on his back, around the top of his spine. Pulling him away. He snapped his eyes open and sat up. Just a dream. Harry reached behind his curtain and grabbed his glasses and wand. Sliding them on his face, he cast a quick tempus. 01:26 AM .
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
He dropped himself back and let his eyes drift close again. He wasn't allowed to use dreamless sleep much any more. Hermione had sworn him off it as he used it every night for a month after the battle. So instead, he was getting a few hours of sleep and the urge to get some bad habits. He had smoked a cigarette he found in Sirius' bedroom. It was tucked beneath a loose floorboard, along with some letter he didn't bring himself to read. There were seven left in the packet, and they all tasted awful. Most likely being there for 20 odd years.
He felt rough after the first one. A small pain blooming behind his eyes and his chest hurt. He coughed long enough for the cigarette to go out. He relit it and tried again. It didn't get any better. He only got about 5 breaths out of it before giving up. He vowed to not try again.
Two nights later, he had another. This time taking it till completion. It still tasted awful, and dry, and his chest hurt because he still coughed. But he got it. He understood why people would smoke. Going outside and taking, basically, a few deep breaths. It was calming. And then the nausea hit him. That sick feeling sticking to the back of his throat. That headache from before blooming again, but slower. There was no way people would smoke if they felt like this every time. He definitely wasn't trying again.
He managed three days that time. Another nightmare and he grabbed the pack from his bedside table without thinking. It was Hermione's screams playing on his mind as he finished that one. He felt slightly less sick, there was no headache behind his eyes this time. He stared up at the sky as he dropped the butt onto the floor. It was getting easier.
The next night, Harry couldn't close his eyes without seeing Ron, laying there with his arm bleeding, barely breathing. He was stood on the back steps of the house before he realised, lighting the cigarette up with some matches. He took his time with that one, blowing each breath out slowly. He imagined it as it reached his lungs, filling them and pulling out all the thoughts he didn't want. He didn't vow not to smoke anymore once he had finished, but he did vow to get a lighter at some point.
He had three left. He had three more nightmares he could deal with. Sirius hadn't left a lighter in the floorboards. Harry's first thought was to go and buy one. Something cheap, he didn't want to attempt magic so close to his face while his brain was scattered everywhere.
At the beginning of July, he slipped out of the house first thing and wandered down the road. He knew there was a muggle shop not too far from there. He spotted the purple sign reading 'Premier' in yellow lettering as he approached. He hadn't bothered with a jacket that morning, the sun beaming down on him. He stopped short on the other side of the road. It was the beginning of July. He was only 17. And lacked any muggle ID anyway. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged, worst case he didn't get anything.
He strolled to the counter and pulled out his wallet, he glanced behind the man in front of him. He was placing little yellow stickers on a few items. How much did cigarettes cost?
"What can I get you?" He had an accent, something Harry couldn't place.
"Pack of B and H blue please, mate." Harry tried. He did his best to not look worried about being served. He memorised the brand that Sirius smoked, no idea if the blue was the brand or if it actually meant something. The man took a sip from his redbull and nodded, sliding the little door behind him open and grabbing a packet. He scanned it and placed it in front of Harry. "Lighter too, if you could." The man, probably mid 40's, Harry thought, moved his hand over to a stack of lighters next to him. They stood in a yellow holder, different patterns and colours on all of them. At the top read the word 'Clippers'.
"Any colour?"
"Black." Sirius would have had a black lighter, right?
"3.38, son."
So, it began. He got away with being underaged. He'd gotten a lighter he thought Sirius would like. Got to see how the fags, as the man serving had said the next time he went in, were meant to taste. He got used to the taste. He stopped feeling sick from it. He only ever smoked one a night, but it helped. He brought two packets to Hogwarts with him. But told himself, he wasn't going to smoke them. They were there for if it got bad.
And he was fine.
The next morning, Harry awoke to chatting. Ron and Seamus were discussing something, but it was Blaise's laugh that caused him to stir. Harry placed his glasses on his face and sat up on the edge of his bed. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked at the scene before him. Ron was sitting on the floor at the base of Dean's bed, Neville leaning against the post behind him. Dean himself was sat on the end of Seamus' bed, with Seamus laying on his stomach next to him. And then a slight glance opposite them showed Blaise and Nott sat on their own beds.
"Drinks?" Seamus asked. Harry noticed the parchment he had in front of him that he was scribbling things down on.
"Depends how well you Gryffindors can drink," joked Nott, "Because if you only get butterbeers then I'll lose my mind." He stretched his arms over his head.
"Ha ha, no," Dean mocked, "We'll get vodka, gin, maybe some actual beers as well, but we'll do a mix of it all?" They continued on with their conversation but Harry just grabbed some clothes and headed towards the toilet. He ran a hand through his hair before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Ignoring that this party may have been a good idea purely down to bringing the whole common room together. As he went to open the door however, it swung open.
Grey meets green. The conversation behind him continued, oblivious to the two boys standing in the doorway.
"Morning, Malfoy." Harry said, looking at the blonde's damp hair. Malfoy nodded and briskly walked back to his own bed. Harry let out a sigh and was about to step into the bathroom before a hand grabbed his bicep.
"Potter," Blaise muttered. Seamus and Theo were laughing at Ron who requested some Fanta, "Don't take it personally." He nodded his head towards Malfoy, who was straightening up his bed. He moved slowly, like it took a lot of effort to make any kind of movement.
"Has he actually said anything since…?" He didn't need to finish his sentence, he didn't want to. That would mean caring, worrying . Shaking his head, Blaise continued.
"No. He stayed at mine the day before yesterday, Theo was over too, didn't speak a word to us. He gets into these moods but doesn't normally last more than a day."
"So he does this a lot?" Stop asking questions.
"Not all the time," Blaise took a pause, heaving a sigh and turning back to Harry, "I know I'm probably not in the place to ask favours, but if you can help…" They both turned to look at Malfoy at the same time, "I know he'd appreciate it." No. I want a normal year. I don't want to focus on Malfoy for longer than I need to.
"I'll uh, see what I can do." He says, nodding to Blaise and ducking into the bathroom. How the hell was he going to help? If anything, Malfoy would keep the silence going longer just to piss Harry off. Maybe he could annoy the boy into talking.
Helping would mean that he was worried. Which he wasn't. Of course, he wasn't. He was worried. But it wasn't because it was Malfoy. No, he just worried about everyone. He helped his friends, he could extend the care to the Slytherin. Harry had helped him already. But clearly not enough. And there it was.
That guilt.
He slipped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. The warm water hit his skin and calmed him instantly. Now he's helping Blaise. He wanted to help Malfoy and if his friends are directly asking for it then surely he really needs it.
Hopefully, he can make a start with the party tonight. Maybe get the boy to speak to someone, even if it was complaining about Harry.
Notes:
Warnings for this chapter:
- Mentions of Blood. Harry has a nightmare where blood pours from underneath the door, it's not said but described. It is also then described how he starts smoking and blood his mentioned on Ron, not in detail.
Thanks for reading :)
Next Chapter: 19/04/2023