Draco was, in fact, not having a good time. And he could hardly blame his friends for picking up on that. But even if they noticed his foul mood, he explicitly did not want to talk about how not good of a time he was having. This seemed an absolutely outlandish request to one: Pansy Parkinson.
"Dracooooo" She whined, tugging on his arm for what seemed like the millionth time. "Why aren't you going to play quidditch this year? I always loved cheering for you…"
Draco would have been impressed at her ability to make anything and everything about herself if he was not incredibly tired and also incredibly annoyed. "I'm just going to be busy. It's hardly a priority, is it?"
Theo seemed slightly offended by this comment, having plans to replace Draco as Slytherin seeker himself. "You're taking the same classes as me, mate. What's got you so busy?"
"Well, I plan to get much better grades than you, Theo, so you have to understand…" He sneered at his friend with just a bit of teasing in his tone. Theo snorted but dropped the topic, turning his attention to Blaise who was digging into his small hoard of chocolate frogs.
It was the first time he had seen his friends since two weeks after the semester ended and the conversation had clicked back into place with an almost unnatural seamless quality. Draco had watched his entire world crumble around him in the last few months, but as he watched Pansy paw at the other boys playfully, it felt as if this was one thing that had stayed the exact same. He'd assumed the rest of them had been distant due to their own personal crisis but maybe it had just been him after all. Maybe he should be relieved that his friends had been spared the torment, but the grating jealousy was hard to ignore. He adjusted his sleeves and tried to laugh at one of Theo's jokes.
Blaise handed him a chocolate frog from his seat opposite to Draco. "It is a shame though." Draco took the frog and ripped open the packaging, discarding the card of Dumbledore with a wince. "You were a great seeker. Only one who could give Potter a run for his money."
Draco tried not to react to the name. "Yeah, well, I've got better things to do than worry about Potter." A lie. He had spent a large chunk of his Summer obsessing over the Gryffindor seeker but he would sooner drop dead than bring up his shady correspondence habits. Besides, that was in the past now. No longer relevant in his opinion.
"I don't know how we're supposed to beat him without you on the team. I hear they're even making him captain." Blaise continued, ignoring Draco's thousand yard stare. Draco hadn't known that. He vaguely wondered if Harry had known that, with how little information he was given recently. He shoved his curiosity away, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves once again.
It had become a neurotic habit of his since the night he'd burned the letters. Checking and double checking that his forearm was concealed, even when not surrounded by his closest friends, was the closest thing he'd ever had to an anxious tick. Which wasn't incredibly helpful when he felt anxious. All. The. time.
They were still talking about quidditch, he realized with a sigh, mentally rejoining the conversation. He listened to Theo enthuse about the training regime he'd been doing over the Summer and how ready he was to blow Gryffindor out of the water. He listened to Pansy talk about parties she'd attended with her parents and classes she wanted to take. And all Draco could think about was how little any of it mattered. I'm going to burn Hogwarts to the ground. He wanted to say. There will never be another quidditch cup if I have my way. Stop me if it's so important to you. STOP ME.
"Draco?" Theo's voice cut through the air and Draco blinked, looking around the small cabin. All three of them were staring at him now and he realized with a flush of embarrassment that he'd been digging his nails into his left hand. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
"You sure? You've been looking out of it since King's Cross." Blaise added.
Draco shook his head. The semester hadn't even started and he was losing it. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep much last night."
"Is it your dad?" Pansy was the one who earned a vicious glare for the question.
"No. Just drop it."
"I know what it is." Blaise laughed. "You've gotten a girlfriend, eh Malfoy?" He looked pleased with his assertion and Theo and Pansy were more than happy to jump on it.
"Wait really?" Pansy said, looking upset.
Theo grinned, giving an approving "Ayy, that's my guy."
"No!" Draco barked, his fingers tugging frantically at his sleeve. "God-" He stood up and opened the door. "I'm gonna go buy a coffee." His friends started to protest but the door was shut before he could hear what they had to say. He was exhausted.
They had chosen a cabin towards the front of the train, meaning he had to pass the majority of the rest of the passenger cars to find the trolley. He had picked that cabin to avoid this exact thing but he supposed it was better than hearing his friends guess about the identity of someone who didn't exist.
He had thought so at least. Passing through the excited first years giggling was enough to want to send him running. You shouldn't have come here! He wanted to shout, but instead just pulled his sleeve down over his left hand, picking at the now fraying edges and walking faster. With every glance his fellow students shot him, he could feel their eyes boring holes through his sleeve. He kept looking down to make sure it was indeed still covered. They know. They can tell what you are. Draco was breathing too fast to be normal and when he finally spotted the trolley, he dipped into the train bathroom instead.
A single stall, he locked himself in and slumped against the door, holding his shoulders and willing the panic to die down. He had become more used to these episodes in the last few weeks, but he had hoped they would be more manageable than this. Just the sight of strangers looking at him was enough to send him into fight or flight. How was he supposed to kill Dumbledore like this?
Thinking the name sent a new wave of panic through him and he was breathing into his arms for what seemed like hours by the time the familiar numbness settled back into place over him. He stood up and smoothed his robes, trying not to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of his existence.
Looking back over at the trolley, he glanced at a head of red hair and immediately walked in the opposite direction, back towards the cabin. Where there was a Weasley, Potter wouldn't be far behind, and that was not a reunion he wanted to have today. He'd hoped the past two weeks of non contact would make it easier to think about him, but it seemed the opposite was true. Harry wasn't someone you just forgot and while Draco was eternally grateful for his own cowardice in not exposing his identity, he still felt a crushing pain everytime he thought about their shared Summer. Cutting contact had been the right thing to do but a part of Draco still wanted him and missed him desperately. It was a part of his soul that Draco was in the process of tying down and beating until it gave in to his facade of treachery. At the very least, Draco wouldn't have to face the utter and dismal embarrassment of dumping the chosen one. And more importantly, he wouldn't have to explain himself to those green eyes. Coward.
Thankfully, no one mentioned the absence of a latte when he re-entered the cabin and neither did they bring up the theoretical girlfriend that they had been so giddy to discuss before. The rest of the trip passed in relative peace for Draco, as he sat in the corner letting his friends chat happily without him. Draco wished he could pull out one of his numerous spellbooks to review but the questions they might pull were too exhausting of a prospect to even consider. So instead he let his eyes glaze over and he thought of nothing.
When the train lurched to a stop, Draco made no effort to move, not eager to be the first onto the carriages because that meant being first into the great hall and that meant staring at Dumbledore for thirty minutes while waiting for the rest of the school to catch up. So he sat and said goodbye to his friends, making a weak excuse as to why he would join them later. He watched through the cabin window as the hoards of passengers made their way off the train, unsure of what he was expecting. He could only assume he was watching for Harry to go by, but that seemed ludicrous as he most definitely did not want to see him. But he was still a bit disappointed when the people thinned and still no mop of shaggy black hair. Oh well. Draco sighed, finally grabbing his bag and Lucius' cane from the rack. He must have blended in with the rest of the Gryffindors.
But the eyes that caught him as he went to leave the cabin made him instantly regret his decision to stay back. He would have taken hours with Dumbledore over this.
"Draco-" Harry said, surprised.
Draco couldn't move as he stared at those damned green eyes. "Harry." He eventually mumbled back. He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He doesn't know. But no matter how hard he repeated the mantra in his head, Draco could feel that stare pierce his soul, extracting every lie he had ever told.
"You okay?" Harry's brows had furrowed in what might have been concern or contempt. Both seemed equally plausible to Draco.
"Fuck off. I'm fine." Draco spat back. He had practiced the way he used to speak to him in preparation for this inevitable encounter but the vehemence seemed overacted, even to his own ears.
Harry held up his hands in surrender, eyes wide… and beautifully bright. "Just surprised you called me Harry, is all." His lips quirked into a smile. "What happened to 'Potter!'?" His impression of Draco was surprisingly accurate but Draco didn't laugh, mortified at his own slip up. He hadn't even cleared one word without making a mistake.
"Whatever." Draco hissed, but the preplanned malice was draining fast from his voice. He was so damn tired.
He turned on his heel and stalked towards the exit, dismayed when he heard Harry's footsteps following close behind. He couldn't be too surprised though, as there was only one way off. Once he had cleared the train and the footsteps seemed to stay in line with his way when he allowed himself to panic and walk faster towards the carriages. Draco tugged anxiously at his sleeve as he took his place on the far side of the crowd of students, hoping to distance himself from the others. To his horror, it seemed Harry had had the same idea, standing only a few feet away from him now.
"Where's your pet Weasel, Potter?" Draco said, trying not to stare too long. Harry had cut his hair since he had seen him at Diagon and it suited him though still a little messy around his scar. He looked better than he had, more rested. Draco would have smiled if Harry wasn't blatantly staring at him, seeming to not have the same conniptions about manners that Draco did.
"Already went in." He replied blankly.
"Why didn't you go with them?" Draco was trying his best not to sound beaten but Harry's stare was making him incredibly uncomfortable as the minutes passed.
Harry shrugged, acting as if that was an answer. "Why didn't you go in with the rest of the Slytherins?"
Draco shrugged, hoping to give Harry a piece of his own vague medicine. The grin that broke out on Harry's face was not a promising sign for how this revenge plan had gone.
"What's wrong with you?" Draco hissed, turning away. He hoped that would be the end of it. The oh-so-special-chosen-one had other plans it seemed.
"Did you have a good Summer?"
Draco was going to pull the carriage himself if they didn't get him away from this blasted boy soon. "Yeah, I guess it was fine." He didn't bother to ask about Harry's Summer because he already knew and didn't want to encourage him.
"Anything interesting happen?"
"What?" Draco had turned to give him an incredulous look but Harry smiled, waiting for an answer. I've been tortured, tattooed, and planned the downfall of the greatest wizard alive. Oh and also, I've been your penpal for the last three months, so that's cool. "Not really, pretty boring actually. What mythical creature did you defeat on your holiday then?" He asked as if it was a no brainer that Harry's only hobby was defeating dark Lords. Surely that was something Malfoy would have said last year, right?
"Really? Nothing at all?" Harry asked, ignoring Draco's sarcastic question.
"...Yeah." Draco gave him a bewildered look and turned away. Why was he here? Why was he pushing this? Draco couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it.
"You're a lot nicer than you used to be." Harry observed.
Draco stiffened as if Harry had called him a slur. "Is that supposed to be a compliment? God, that scar must go down to your brain after all."
Harry wasn't smiling anymore as he watched Draco carefully. The blond boy tried not to fidget under his gaze but the tattoo on his forearm felt unbearably itchy and he had to double check that it wasn't burning a hole through the cotton of his sweater. It had never done that before but Draco couldn't help but imagine the tattoo surprising him one day with hidden pyrotechnic abilities.
Soon enough, Draco was at the front of the line and being ushered onto a horseless carriage along with two Hufflepuff second years. He silently thanked Merlin that his father was in Azkaban so he would never hear of this. His moment was shattered however when the familiar black haired do-gooder took the seat next to him.
"Are you following me?" Draco asked, trying to strike the balance of venom and aristocracy. He'd need to practice this more if he'd be seeing Harry ever again. But he supposed avoiding him for the rest of the year would be more ideal.
Harry shrugged again, still not smiling.
"If I've done something to offend you, just say it already." Draco exhaled, running an exasperated hand through his hair. He wished he could translate his words for Potter to What the bloody hell do you want?
"I think we both know what you did." Harry said.
Draco froze, pulling his left arm imperceptibly closer to himself. Maybe he wasn't crazy. Maybe Harry could see what he was. Death eater.
"Potter, you continue to baffle me with your impertinence." He tried to mimic the way Severus spoke, casting up another mask, another shield but his hands shook as he spoke. Harry just looked at him, eyes processing.
"What are you doing, Draco?" He finally asked, his voice quiet. But the carriage had arrived and before Harry could look at him a moment longer, Draco was out of his seat and walking as quickly as he could towards the gates. He didn't turn around at the security checkpoint, as Flitwick cast a few enchantments over him and his belongings. His father's cane took a moment to pass inspection but it was no real danger. The danger was already inside the castle, afterall. As soon as he was free to go, Draco began walking again. He thought he could hear hurried steps trying to catch up with him, but even then he refused to turn around.
It was only when he sat between Theo and Pansy at the green laden Slytherin table that he finally let himself breathe. There was no way Harry could follow him here. He was amongst his peers, his friends. He glanced at the door and saw Harry watching him yet again and for a brief moment, Draco thought Harry might actually have the audacity to sit in front of him. Harry turned towards Gryffindor though, and that was that.
Draco exhaled and leaned towards Theo, resting his head against his friend's firm shoulder.
Theo chuckled, "Why do you look like you ran here?"
"Bloody Gryffindors…" and that seemed to be enough of an answer for Theo, who laughed and patted Draco's hair affectionately. Theo had always been Draco's favorite. In all honesty, he'd had a crush on him in third year. But one kiss between them had proven two things: that Draco was indeed bisexual and that Theo was, in fact, straight. They never talked about what happened between them that year but Draco felt like he understood Theo better than the rest of his friends because of it. A shared secret tying them together.
"Anyone know why Potter is staring at us?" Blaise asked the group. Pansy scoffed and Draco opened his eyes, immediately finding Harry across the hall, watching him. Not the calm, calculating expression he'd had before. Harry was scowling and Draco couldn't help but scratch at his tattoo under the table. God, could he actually know? How did he find out? Draco hadn't even started his mission, how could Harry Potter of all people already know he was a death eater? Did surviving the Dark Lord just give you some inherent super power to weed out his followers? That would be par for the course in the luck he'd been having lately.
Draco closed his eyes again. Maybe it would be for the best if Harry knew. He could tell Dumbledore and all of this could be over. Draco would be sent to Azkaban and his mother would be killed but at least those first years would get to finish their classes. At least Theo would get to compete for his first quidditch cup because of course he would make the team. He was incredible at quidditch. Draco let a rare genuine smile break over his face as he imagined Hogwarts standing strong without him. Come on, Potter. Stop me.
Draco was no longer surprised that he couldn't sleep. It was such a regular occurrence at the manor that the fact his insomnia had followed him to school seemed fitting. He would pass out eventually, he just needed to run himself into the ground until his brain had no choice but to shut down. Simple really. So he sat in his four poster, curtains spelled shut with pink fire lights floating above him. While not the most functional lighting, they brightened the space just enough to read and frankly, Draco thought they were beautiful. They had recently replaced his number one spot for favorite magical thing. Mostly because Draco couldn't bring himself to fold anything since burning Harry's swan, but that was neither here nor there. It was important to have things that brought him joy. Even if it was sleep deprived joy.
He hadn't been able to get Harry's strange behavior out of his head since the feast. Harry had barely looked away from him the entire time, even when his precious Dumbledore was speaking. Draco tried his best to ignore the gaze but by the time they were dismissed for bed, Draco's hands were shaking from stress and he'd bolted for the common room. He didn't bother explaining it to his friends and they didn't ask. Locked in his bed was the only place he felt like those green eyes couldn't see him, the only place that was safe.
He couldn't understand it. Harry's stare indicated that he knew something but even now, as the clock ticked passed three in the morning no one came for him. Surely, if Harry knew for certain Draco was a death eater, he'd have already gone to Dumbledore with the information. There was something he was missing. It occurred to him that maybe Harry had figured out Draco was behind the letters but the fact that Weasley hadn't immediately spread the gossip around the school to humiliate him made that impossible. There was no reason for Harry to keep that to himself. Draco had ghosted him. Draco had stomped on any feelings that Harry might have had for him with no remorse and no kindness. Harry would hate him more than he already did if he ever found out. There was no reason to keep his secrets and Draco had been so careful not to expose himself. The more he considered it, the more sure he was that he had made a clean cut and left no way for Harry to figure it out. It was far more likely that Harry suspected him of something devious but didn't have enough to prove it.
It wouldn't do any good to dwell on it, he told himself. Either Harry knew or he didn't. Trying to predict the erratic way that boy's brain functioned was a task far larger than fixing a cabinet.
The brief elation he had felt at the thought of being caught was gone and in its place was a painful guilt. He had thought it would be okay to let his mother die, even for just a second. Whether or not Draco ended up a rotted corpse was of no consequence anymore, but letting his mother be tortured and killed by a mad man? He simply couldn't let that happen. He would succeed, he would kill Dumbledore and he would keep Potter out of it.
That was what he had meant afterall when he'd burned those letters. They were on different sides and apparently Harry knew something and Draco couldn't let him find out anything else. He couldn't afford to, and if it came down to it, Draco decided he would choose his mother over Harry. As much as the thought pained him.
But having made his decisions didn't stop him from remembering those bright green eyes. The way Harry had smiled at him. It was nights like this that he wished he had kept just a few of their letters. Not so Draco could talk to him again, no, that was out of the question. But he wished he could read their old conversations. Draco missed him more than he would ever admit to in the daylight.
He woke before dawn, unsure of when exactly he'd fallen asleep but awake now, it was unlikely he'd get back to sleep soon. So he removed the spells and got dressed quickly, making his way past his sleeping classmates and out of the dorm. He took his books for the day with him so he wouldn't have to return before class. There was something that he needed to check.
The room of requirement opened to him before he had left the stairwell, seeming to sense his rushed footsteps. The magic was remarkably less helpful once he was inside, however. Draco was facing what seemed like mountains of garbage, random objects piled on top of each other with no rhyme or reason to organization. Pathways were cut into the hoard and Draco tentatively started on the left side of the room. His only saving grace would be that he knew exactly what he was looking for. It would be identical to the one in Knockturn alley. He'd know it when he saw it.
And he saw it exactly forty-seven minutes later, wedged in between a rotting couch and a large, standing mirror. Making sure to keep an eye on the time, Draco started to cull the lighter clutter from around it. He didn't bother to be gentle with the mess, using his wand to shove the objects away until the cabinet stood alone before him. He'd hoped it would be in exactly the same shape as its sister but apparently this cabinet had gone through a much more difficult life. Large gashes cut into doors and a hinge was missing entirely on the left side. The paint was peeling and the wood was damp, and had hints of what Draco suspected to be mold. He opened it and grimaced. It was just as bad on the inside as the outside, if not worse. Draco would have to do a lot of work to just restore it to being a proper cabinet, regardless of its magical integrity.
He cast a few preliminary spells, ones that Aunt Bella had shown him, and waited several painstaking moments. The magic glowed a faint yellow.
"Fuck yeah." Draco breathed, relief flooding through him. "FUCK YEAH!" He shouted into the empty room, fists raised in the air. The cabinet had a very faint magical signature, which wasn't great. No, the cabinet was most definitely busted pretty badly. But any signature at all meant that it could be fixed. Draco Malfoy wasn't going to go down that easily.
The only good thing that had come with this year was Severus finally being given his well deserved position as professor of Defense against the Dark Arts. Draco had been flabbergasted for years that Snape wasn't already teaching it. Maybe no one else could see it, as Snape trapsed across the classroom, giving his monologue about the importance of defense, but Draco could tell he was thrilled. Draco smiled, happy to see his grumpy old professor happy.
Compared to Umbridge from the year before, it wasn't hard to capture the attention of the sixth years and even Draco, exhausted as he was, found himself spellbound by his speech. Almost. Had the class not been doubling with the Gryffindors, Draco would have been entirely enraptured with his head-of-house. It was impossible to ignore the golden trio sitting on the opposite side of the class though. Weasel was slipping notes to Harry, Granger giving them stern looks in between note taking. Draco mentally made a bet that no fewer than 30 house points would be taken away before the class ended.
"As your instructure failed so dismally in teaching you… practical application last year, we will be starting with dueling in hopes to… catch you up to curriculum standards." Snape's eyes landed on Harry and Wesley and his lip curled in a sneer but he continued. "I'll be assigning you into pairs and you will duel until you have won a best of five. Two points to the house of each winner." The classroom murmured in excitement. Blaise nudged him with his elbow and grinned as if expecting a bloodbath in favor of Slytherin. Draco smiled back but couldn't muster much excitement at the prospect of physical exertion. He wasn't sure exactly how much sleep he'd gotten last night but it hadn't been enough.
The class collectively stood and magically rearranged the desks to make room in the center. The group was naturally divided by houses on either side of the space and Draco noticed the excitement of the Gryffindors was much more prominent than he'd expected. And then he remembered: They had all trained for dueling in the DA last year while the Slytherins had been working for Umbridge instead. His heart sank a little for his house's prospects but he didn't have the heart to remind Blaise, who was practically bouncing on his heels to hex anything red. Draco just hoped no one would watch him lose too badly.
Snape started to call names, pairing one from each house and ushering them away. Blaise was paired with Longbottom and Theo gave a disgruntled sigh as his name was called alongside Granger.
"Harry Potter; Draco Malfoy." Snape read off with a small amount of amusement. Draco took back every nice thing he'd ever said about the man as he looked up in horror. Snape was trying to get Draco killed for Merlin's sake.
Harry was the one to move, coming to stand by Draco as Snape continued to call out pairs. Draco fidgeted, casting quick glances at him. For a surprising change of pace, Harry wasn't already looking at him, instead mouthing something to a disgruntled Weasleby who was just paired with Pansy. Draco smirked, she may not be as booksmart as the others but Pansy Parkinson was an excellent duelist. He'd been on the receiving end of enough jinxes to know that without a doubt.
"Snape really likes watching us fight, eh? This is like second year all over again." Harry remarked quietly, eyes still watching Ron and Pansy. His voice wasn't the same friendly tone from yesterday. He almost sounded annoyed to be there.
"He thinks I have a shot at beating you."
"What and you don't?" Harry turned his head in surprise.
Draco didn't look at him, frowning. "Clearly not."
"What makes you think that?"
Draco didn't bother informing him of his insufficient practice or his constant state of exhaustion, opting to shrug and watch Snape as the last few names were called.
"I want clean, fair fights. Stun or disarm only. I have no intentions of visiting Poppy in the infirmary today." Snape drawled, taking his place at the head of the classroom. Draco was going to have a word with him about this later. But the thought was cleared from his head as Severus waved his wand and the room expanded to triple the size it had been before. The students gasped and Draco took a step back, bumping into Harry's chest. They both jumped and seemed to collectively decide to stand farther apart and not mention it.
With the classroom expanded there was more than enough room for each pair to take up a large space for themselves, no doubt to keep stray spells from catching one unaware. Draco glanced at Blaise with Longbottom, chuckling to see that they had taken the farthest corner of the class. Probably for the best. He followed Harry silently as they found a large corner of their own.
There it was again, Draco noticed, finally looking back at Harry's face. He looked irate. A piece of Draco's heart that he hadn't known was still intact cracked a little. Was it that bad to be partnered with him? He remembered the glare from dinner the night before and sighed internally. It was nothing Draco hadn't already known. Whether Harry knew about his allegiances or not, Draco had permanently carved himself into the villain role in their little dynamic. Harry's disdain was not news.
"Cmon, Draco. You know what a fair fight is, right?" Harry taunted, no humor in his voice.
"Sure you don't need your friends for this, Potter?" Draco spat back, raising his wand in preparation. It was easy to be cruel to Harry when he was so blatantly aggressive like this. Draco hadn't known what to do with the smiles and the contemplative looks from yesterday. This. This was familiar.
"Begin." Snape's voice called over the classroom.
"Stupefy!"
"Expelliarmus!" They called their spells out in unison before dodging back. Draco followed it up with a locking charm that Harry deflected before casting yet another Expelliarmus. Draco rolled to the side and caught Harry in the ankle with a binding hex, only to release it a second later with a satisfying thud of Harry hitting the floor with the full force of his own momentum.
"Agh! What the hell, Draco? Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, pushing himself back up.
"Learn a different spell, nimwit- Petrificus totalus!" Draco blocked the next few shots as Harry slowly recovered his balance. "Stupefy!" He called, catching Harry square in the chest, sending him down. Draco breathed hard, looking at the crumpled form of the boy-who-lived. He should feel pride at his victory but he wanted to fall to the floor with him more than anything else.
"Enervate." Snape cast on Harry as he walked past. "Potter, I don't expect much from you but at least try to put up a fight for poor Mr. Malfoy."
Harry, who was sitting up now, glared at Draco as if he had been the one to mock him. Draco held out a hand to help him up and his expression seemed to soften. But it was gone by the time he was on his feet, brushing dust off his trousers.
"I really expected you to know more than one spell, Potter." As Draco said it, he felt remarkably similar to someone poking a wild bear. Harry grit his teeth together and looked at him.
"That was a cheap shot and you know it."
"Yeah but it gets the job done. More than you can say for your disarming charm. Noble as it is."
"Shut up and fight me again."
And so they fought, Draco surprising even himself with how evenly matched they were. He dodged and deflected the disarming charms with relative ease. It wasn't until Harry dropped his signature spell and shot a stupefy that Draco was caught off guard.
"He's learning!" Draco gasped mockingly, staggering a bit from surprise.
Harry scowled and shot another "Incarcarus!"
"Well now you're just showing off." Draco spat, rushing forward. Harry staggered, clearly having expected more side dodging. "Locomotor mortis! Expelliarmus!" Draco shouted in quick order. Harry fell, his knees locked and Draco snatched his wand out of the air.
Harry glared as Draco released the charm and handed his wand back. "See? I can use it too." It probably wasn't in his best interest to goad Harry Potter in a fight but it felt justified. If Harry got to torture Draco with his presence, Draco got to take cheap shots and tease. Otherwise, being forced to stand so close to him was cruel.
"Enjoying yourself?" Harry growled, returning to his starting place.
"Not really." Draco answered honestly. His arms felt too heavy and his head was starting to ache. But he'd surprised himself thus far, if he could just pull it off one more time, he'd be done with the whole affair.
Draco shot first in the next match but was met with a rapid fire casting that he wasn't entirely sure what to do with. His spell shield didn't last long and he was forced to dive away as it broke under the stress. Harry didn't relent, sending hexes flying as quickly as he could say the words. Draco flung a nearby desk towards him and dodged yet another stupify. Harry blasted the desk apart, wand still pointed at draco.
"God, you're such a coward, Draco! Stop running and FACE ME!"
"I AM facing you!" Draco shielded again, but his hands were shaking.
"Then why are you still lying!" As Harry snarled the remark, Draco's forearm burned.
"Stupefy!" Draco shouted, feeling his body slowing down. He didn't have enough energy to keep this up. He moved out of the way of an expelliarmus only to be caught off guard by the same binding spell he had used earlier hitting his calf. He fell back against the wall and two more binding spells seemed to zip tie his arms in place.
"You really don't have anything to say to me?" Harry asked as he approached, pointing his wand at Draco's forehead.
"What the fuck do you expect me to say?" Draco seethed back, pulling desperately at the bonds over his wrists. "Seems like you already have something in mind." He was acutely aware of his sleeve riding up his arm, and with both hands restrained there was nothing he could do. Harry could reach out and expose him as a traitor. Nothing was stopping him. So it came as a surprise when Harry never so much as glanced at his arm. His gaze trained intently on Draco's face.
"What are you waiting for, Potter? Would you prefer an audience?" Harry's face blanched at that and he lowered his wand and released the bindings. Draco slumped forward and his hand flew to his cuff, making sure it hadn't slipped too far.
"Two to one." Was the only thing Harry said as they took their places again.
Draco considered forfeiting the last two matches as he struggled to catch his breath. The tattoo burned on his skin and he felt every minute of sleep he'd neglected in his limbs. Harry watched him intently as he slowly raised his wand.
But when Harry cast, Draco's instincts took over and they started again. They didn't speak this time, focusing intently on their technique. Harry was getting visibly frustrated as Draco deflected yet another spell. Though, deflecting was pretty much all he could do at this point.
"Fight me!" Harry finally shouted sending another curse flying. Draco's mind whirled with exhaustion as he parried. The pain in his tattoo was quickly becoming unbearable and he couldn't quite tell if it was the magic in the air or if his vision was blurring. Draco was not doing well.
So when Harry yelled confringo, a common blasting charm, Draco could hardly be blamed for mistaking it for another curse, one that had been used on him by the Dark Lord in his own home. His mind shut down. Panic seized him, and without his wits there was no shield for the spell to break so it collided directly with Draco's shoulder. The explosion was instant and loud and he collided with the back wall before he could even realize his error.
The world spun and his ear was ringing so loudly that the world around him might as well have been silent. He couldn't breath, clutching desperately at his chest. Where was he? Everything hurt, especially his shoulder. Voldemort had to be torturing him. A figure passed in front of his eyes and Draco panicked again, scrambling back against the wall and hiding his head in his arms. He tried to control his breathing but the ringing was too loud to focus.
"Please, don't, not again please-" He managed to gasp.
"Draco!" Harry's voice was distant but at least it wasn't angry anymore. Draco couldn't breathe.
And then he remembered. He was in Hogwarts. He had been dueling Harry. He took deep breaths, grounding himself in his body by individually flexing each of the fingers clutching his hair. His shoulder hurt but that wasn't because of the cruciatus curse, he'd been burned by the spell. His breathing was slowly coming under control and Draco dared to open his eyes.
Severus was kneeling next to him with a worried look, Harry stood farther back, green eyes wider than Draco had ever seen them.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?" he asked, a hand gently touching his back. Draco, still too occupied with trying to breathe, jerked his head in affirmation. Pursing his lips, the professor wheeled on Harry. "What did I say about only casting to stun or disarm? You stupid, ignorant boy!" Harry stuttered, backing away. "What exactly were you thinking, using a blasting charm in my class? Were you trying to hurt him or are you really that foolish?"
"I was trying t-" Harry started, eyes falling back on Draco.
"Your ill conceived plan has forfeited you the match and you'll also lose 30 points from Gryffindor for your sheer idiocy!" Severus snapped, silencing any excuses.
Draco was fading back into his numb shell, left only to deal with the pain in his shoulder and the ringing in his left ear. Won that bet. He thought to himself bitterly. And for his prize, he was going to go lie down.
"Professor?" Draco asked over the ringing. Snape turned from Potter, concerned. "May I be excused, please?" Snape nodded, instructing him to go straight to Madame Pomphrey. Draco promised he would, collecting his books from the floor and walking past a silent room of peers watching him intensely. There was no doubt that they had all seen his little breakdown. Draco tugged at his sleeve.
He didn't go in the direction of the infirmary when he left the class though. There was too much risk that he'd be asked to take off his shirt. He just wanted to lie down anyway. His bed would do.
"Draco!" Harry called after him. Draco didn't -couldn't- hear it as he approached the stairwell to the dungeons.
"Draco!" a hand grabbed his arm and he jumped, instinctively yanking it back with a gasp. Harry gaped at him for a moment before remembering why he had followed Draco into an empty hallway in the first place.
"Draco, I'm so sorry-I didn't mean to- I was just trying to break your shield-"
"It's fine." Draco said, ignoring the desperation in Harry's voice.
"Can I help? I can take you to Pomphrey-"
"Potter. Stop. It's fine." The earnesty in those eyes hurt worse than the shoulder wound. Draco couldn't handle another second of this. Cruel.
"Let me make it up to you-"
"No."
"Why not? I'm trying to be nice. The least you could do is let me-" The annoyance had returned to Harry's voice and it snapped something in Draco.
"Because I don't need your help." Draco hissed, eyes now staring back at Harry with every bit of rage he could muster. "And I'm well aware that you hate me so stop pretending to care and leave. me. alone." Harry didn't have a chance to respond before Draco ran down the dungeon stairs where he would remain secluded in his bed for the rest of the day.
Draco spent the next week trying his best to lay low. His outburst in class had made its way around school and the stares that followed him in the halls were no longer his imagination. He would usually be mortified for everyone to know he'd had a panic attack but it seemed the popular rumor going around was that Harry had tried to kill him. Much more interesting gossip, he supposed. The Slytherins were the only ones to be ecstatic about the incident. Blaise and Draco were the only two to win their matches but with Harry's point deduction for an illegal spell, the Slytherins had come out on top anyway. It was a hollow victory but Draco didn't say anything. He just wished they'd stop clapping him on the shoulder to congratulate his obvious scheme.
Without the help of the school nurse, Draco had done a dismally poor job treating his injuries from the fight. He'd borrowed a first aid spell book from the library but with no training in this kind of magic the burn on his shoulder was persistent and Draco had to reduce himself to muggle methods: conjuring bandages and casting cooling charms every few hours. He'd considered going to Pomphrey just to ask for some pain relief but then he'd have to explain why and then he was faced with the same initial problem of not being able to take his shirt off. He was confident it would heal with time though and as the fifth day passed he might even have thought it felt a bit better.
His ear was another matter altogether. The ringing had persisted for a day or two but now Draco couldn't hear anything from his left side. He'd found potential spells to fix busted eardrums but the idea of pointing a wand at his head and experimenting with strange magic for the first time was not a very promising option. So he let it be, and tried his best to sit on the left side of the classroom to catch as much of the conversations as he could.
He spent most of his free time in the room of requirement, often skipping meals to finish particularly difficult spells before he had to run off to another class. By the end of the first week, the professors had gotten used to Draco sneaking in late and sitting in the back corner. Regardless of his effort though, he hadn't made much progress. The best results he'd gotten so far was successfully removing the mold that was destroying the cabinet's integrity.
It had made it easy enough to avoid Harry though and for that he was grateful. They shared two classes together, defense and potions and Draco was very proud of his self control in only spending half the class periods staring at the back of the chosen one's head. Harry hadn't cornered him again like he had done the first day and Draco actively went the other direction if he saw Harry in the hallway. So they didn't speak to each other but Draco hadn't been hauled to Dumbledore yet so he supposed whatever suspicions Harry had were no longer an issue. One less problem to deal with in Draco's infinite pool of worries.
Draco didn't bother rushing to class the next Thursday afternoon. He was running late again for potions but Slughorn hadn't seemed to mind the last time and Draco found himself struggling to care about anything besides the cabinet these days. He walked slowly back towards the dungeons and tried his best to keep his shoulder from moving, hoping not to have to redo his bandages again. The class was chatty when he entered and he slinked along the wall to the back of the class, taking his usual seat. Pansy waved to him from the row in front and Theo gave him a nod. Draco smiled back at them.
"Mr. Malfoy, seeing as you've come in ten minutes late, you've missed the first part of instruction." Slughorn had ambled up to him, hands behind his back. "I'm afraid you'll need to find a partner for our next project." Draco's heart sank as he looked around the room and noticed that everyone was paired up with a cauldron per two students. Damn it. Pansy and Theo gave him apologetic shrugs and Blaise pointed at his partner, another Slytherin that Draco didn't know well. He really should have been on time.
"Can I join a group? It looks like everyone's already partnered up." Draco offered hopefully.
Slughorn cast a glance over the room and smiled. "No, no, it seems Mr. Potter doesn't have a partner yet. Go join him. Excellent student, yes-" Draco stopped listening as Slughorn started to recite the many virtues of his favorite pupil. Draco thought he might puke as he gathered his things and started the longest walk of his life to the empty seat next to those damned green eyes. Maybe if he did puke, Slughorn would let him skip class. Draco considered it but was not confident in his ability to do so on command.
He took his seat and adjusted his sleeve, wincing slightly at the movement. Harry looked at him with a sheepish smile. "Well… This is quite awkward I suppose."
"Doesn't have to be if you stop talking." Draco sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. What had he done to deserve this? He hadn't even destroyed Hogwarts yet, surely this couldn't be some cruel divine punishment already.
"Does your head hurt?"
"No, I'm just preparing for it to."
Harry smiled at that, "You're funny."
Draco finally looked at him, frowning. "I'm getting really sick of these mood swings, Potter. Pick a lane, why don't you." He had meant for it to come out with some venom but his words just ended up sounding exhausted.
Harry seemed embarrassed. "I know. I'm sorry."
Draco hadn't expected that. So he didn't say anything.
Slughorn spent the rest of class describing the project that they would spend the next three weeks working on. Each group would be assigned a different potion to brew and would have to present their work to Slughorn along with a write up of their process and pitfalls. The potions Slughorn had chosen were above the difficulty level of the class but he expected that any failure would be thoroughly researched and explained. If your brew wasn't successful, Slughorn wanted a precise explanation of what had gone wrong. Draco thought it sounded straightforward enough at least.
Class ended with Slughorn handing out parchments to each group with a description of their assignment and the grading scale. Harry took theirs from the professor and Draco was struck with the image of him reading it. Had that been how he looked when he'd read Draco's letters? Ethereal and-
Harry was staring at him, holding out the page for him to take. Draco coughed and accepted it, reading: Draught of peace. Not a terrible option. Draco had been prescribed it before so at least he knew what it was meant to look like.
"You know it?" Harry asked, leaning closer to read the recipe alongside him. Draco clenched his jaw at the proximity and held the paper closer to the middle.
"I've just seen it finished."
"Brilliant! Should be easy enough then." Harry smiled.
Draco returned his optimism with an odd look as he finished reading the brewing instructions. It was a week-long process, which meant that they would have about two shots to do it right. It hardly looked easy and Draco wondered how Harry had gotten into a NEWT level potions class with those kinds of misconceptions.
"It looks like we can get started next time and work out a schedule to check on it." Draco breathed, stretching his neck as he considered their options. He was good at potions, this wouldn't be too bad.
"Sounds good." Harry was still smiling. Goddamit stop that.
"I'll grab some books from the library and do some research before we get started. Hopefully we can do it in one go."
"Oh, I can help with that." Harry offered, eyes watching Draco expectantly.
Draco had to stop himself from nervously shredding another cuff under the table. "No, it's okay. I don't mind doing it myself."
Harry didn't seem satisfied with that answer but left it as Slughorn started his last pieces of advice for the class. The bell rang and Draco made quick work of gathering his things, duplicating the assignment and leaving the original for Harry to take.
"Hey," Harry started before he could make his escape. Draco turned but didn't reply. "I really am sorry. For the other day. Even before I…" he looked unbearably awkward as he trailed off.
"It's fine." Draco gave him a curt nod and left. Done with classes for the day, he headed straight for the seventh floor to resume his real work.