Chaos erupted. Several screams shattering the would-be peace as a viscous green smoke poured over the desks and covered the floor. A Gryffindor that Draco couldn't remember the name of nearly ate shit, tripping over a chair in a weak attempt to escape. Slughorn was quick to respond but not before Draco turned to catch a glimpse of Longbottom's cauldron melting through the table, landing as a steaming pile of goo on the floor.
The students stumbled out of the classroom, holding their robes over their mouths to keep from breathing in the toxic fumes. It was at least a break from the monotony of Slughorn's astounding ability to ramble, Draco thought as he slumped against the wall where the class had gathered. He honestly wasn't sure how it was possible to mess up veritaserum that badly and half-heartedly wondered if Slughorn would let him read their post mortem report.
Theo, Blaise and Pansy were quick to join him, sitting in a circle and ignoring the rest of the class as the hallway became infested with Gryffindors.
"Well, at least it wasn't me this time." Theo laughed, alluding to an infamous fire breathing potion he had tried -and failed- to brew in fourth year. Blaise patted his shoulder consolingly.
"I just wish he'd chosen a better day to screw up." Pansy exchanged a pointed look with Theo. "We were supposed to finish today…" She explained. "We'll have to stay late if we can't go back in for a while."
Draco hummed in acknowledgment. The project was due in two days and the entire class had slowly grown more and more tense with each class period closing in on the deadline. Everyone except for Harry and Draco of course. They'd successfully completed their potion the first time around and had spent the last few classes rewriting all of their notes on the final piece of parchment. Harry had turned out to be surprisingly competent when given a task and the two week long partnership had worked out well for both of them.
Draco was still anxious for it to be over though. Being around Harry was like having all of the air slowly sucked out of the room. He was always too close or too far and he liked to ask questions that Draco didn't know how to answer. Draco just wanted to vanish into the background, save his mother and disappear, but everytime those green eyes looked at him, he felt vulnerable and exposed. Like Harry could see him in ways that no one else seemed to be able to.
Draco glanced up to where he was standing with his golden trio and winced as they made eye contact. Harry waved and gave him a crooked smile. Draco smiled back, shrugging his shoulders as if to say What can you do with a Neville in your class? Before turning back to his friends and tugging at his sleeve. At some point in the last week, they'd fallen into these moments that felt similar to friendship and Draco wasn't sure what to do with it. Some distance would definitely be good.
After about twenty minutes of chatting in the hallway, Slughorn emerged from the classroom and beckoned them inside to resume their work. There was no sign of the melted cauldron or the gaping hole in the desk and the smell of burning tar had been replaced with freshly cut grass. Draco had to give the professor props for how thorough a cleaning job he'd done. Severus had always left something behind almost as a reminder of the failure or just made the students clean it themselves which never ended well for any party involved.
Draco took his seat, watching Neville slink behind his partner in utter misery. It was a situation he would have ruthlessly mocked not even a year ago. But all he could think of now was Maybe Neville will burn Hogwarts down before I even get the chance. And that didn't seem like an especially funny thing to say out loud.
Harry interrupted the stare, practically falling into his seat beside him. His hair was tousled and framed his face quite nicely. The pale lighting scar stood out in contrast with his tan skin, splitting his eyebrow. He had an effortless sort of beauty, and the more time Draco spent around the boy the more he realized that Harry never had to try to be handsome, he just was. Infuriatingly so. Luckily, he seemed oblivious to that fact and Draco had no intentions of informing him anytime soon.
"I must say, you Gryffindors don't know how to half ass anything. Even failing." It was the closest to a snide remark he could manage and Harry seemed to take it as a compliment, a bright grin spilling over his face.
"Hell yeah. That's actually our house motto I'm pretty sure."
Draco couldn't help but return the smile, "I always thought it was 'dumbasses in red.'"
Harry shrugged as if seriously considering. "Yeah, that works too." They laughed and for just a brief moment, Draco forgot about everything. His forearm was blank, there was no cupboard waiting for him upstairs and all he had to worry about were his grades and the boy in front of him. His soul felt light and he looked at Harry with every bit of adoration he felt.
A single instance of peace.
The moment couldn't last forever though and before Draco could add to the joke, the weight of his situation came crashing back onto his shoulders. The room seemed to lose some of its color and the smile he kept plastered on his face no longer felt real. The adoration was still there, but it hurt now, stabbing into his chest reminding him of how little anything he did mattered. He was a death eater and Harry was good and Draco already had enough lost causes to worry about.
He swallowed, shoving the building panic down. It was getting harder to do these days but with a deep breath, he settled into the shell of himself that had become so familiar.
"Everything okay?" Draco shouldn't have been surprised; Harry never failed to catch him on his embarrassing little fits. He wished the boy would let him pretend.
"Just imagining what potions will be like without your persistent pestering next week." The insult was as hollow as they usually were, unable to hold any venom against the infamous git. Draco scrubbed his face, hoping to avoid his eyes.
"If you're really gonna miss me that much, I don't mind if you keep sitting here."
Draco chuckled and pushed the parchment back towards Harry. "Can you do the conclusion or should I?"
Harry shrugged and took the paper. The mishmash of both of their handwriting was strange to look at, reminiscent of the spelled parchment they had shared. For the first week, Draco had written at a slant, worried that Harry might recognize his handwriting for his penpal. But Harry seemed oblivious to the similarities so he slowly had returned to his normal writing habits. All fancy handwriting must look exactly the same to someone who wrote like they were having a stroke.
Draco rested his head sideways against the table, relaxing against the cool stone to the sight of the chosen one in front of him. Harry had a tendency to mumble while he wrote, tapping his quill at the edge of the ink pot before scribbling a sentence or two and pausing to think. In the six years Draco had known him, Harry had never struck him as an intellectual type but recently Draco had started to notice a look he got in his eyes when he was considering something. Harry was smart, clever even, and while yes, he was too impulsive and kind of a dumbass, he was surprisingly introspective. Draco thought it was an odd thing for him to miss; It was so obvious after all.
"I think I'm done. Would you read it for me?" Harry's eyes sparkled as he pushed the parchment across the table. Draco waited to respond, allowing himself just a moment more to look into those damned green eyes.
"I'll try to, at least." He managed a weak scowl at the messy handwriting and took the parchment, skimming over the last few paragraphs. "Seems fine." He nodded absently.
"Then we're done?" Harry didn't seem overly enthused by the idea.
"Yup."
"We made a pretty good team, didn't we?" Harry said hopefully.
Draco smiled, returning his head to its place on the table. "Yeah, I suppose we did, Potter." And he found that he wasn't lying. Silently, he watched Harry turn to his friends, who had been especially cordial to Draco during their brief partnership and listened as they began a lively conversation about quidditch. Draco let his eyes drift closed, happy to finally be free to fade into oblivion, away from the watchful gaze of the boy savior.
"Come play quidditch with us." The class was filtering out when Harry spoke to him again. Draco had spent the rest of the class period helping Pansy and Theo with their paper and was ready to leave them to it. Along with the several other groups of students looking to be settling in for a long evening of brewing, determined to finish their project on time. He paused, a textbook halfway shoved into his bag.
"Huh?"
"Tomorrow after dinner. A couple of us are going to play some quidditch. We need another seeker." Harry's eyes were inexplicably wide, almost pleading.
"Why would y-"
"It'll be fun." Harry rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "Besides, I'll go easy on you."
Draco scoffed. "As if I'd need you to go easy on me."
"So you'll come?"
"I didn't say that."
"But you will?"
Draco wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up in this situation but he got the feeling Harry wouldn't leave him alone until he gave in, so he compromised. "Maybe. I'll think about it." And just as Draco had expected, this seemed to be enough for Harry, who grinned like it was the first time he was seeing the sun.
And Draco did think about it. He couldn't stop thinking about it as he tried to sleep that night and was still thinking about it when he gave up and made his way to the room of requirement in the early hours of the morning. God, he missed quidditch. And playing against Harry was tempting. Draco had never actually beaten him to the snitch, but the challenge was exhilarating. The other house seekers were no comparison and always ended up being rather boring opponents in the end.
But he knew better than to say yes.
He barely had enough time to work on the cabinet as it was and spending more time around Harry could only end poorly. Draco might slip and admit his allegiances, or even worse, he might kiss him. It was too great a risk either way. Better to put the whole matter to bed and focus on what really mattered.
It wasn't hard to forget about it entirely once he was sitting in front of the cabinet. The weeks spent secluded here had started to feel more like a reprieve than a prison cell as it had been the first few days. It was the only place he felt safe to roll up his sleeves and focus on the work, assured that he was truly alone and no one would see or judge him for the ugly tattoo. He could finally think clearly, the dark stained wood lulling him into a tentative sense of security. The version of himself that worried constantly about Harry and everything else waited patiently at the door while he fell into his routine.
He started each day by measuring the magical strength, noting any differences. He would then spend exactly ten minutes planning for the session, figuring out what would be the best use of his limited time. He would sort his books back into their stacks and then he would sit in front of it and get to work.
He hadn't made much progress with the actual magic of the cabinet but he had theories on what was going wrong. Magic could be fickle and Draco suspected that the bond would resist his attempts at repair until the cabinet was in a worthy enough state to tempt the magic to stay. So he'd set himself instead to fixing the physical cabinet before moving onto the connection. The mold had been the first thing to go and after that Draco had replaced the missing hinge, allowing both doors to open without issue. He'd spent the last week attempting to heal the gashes left in the wood but thus far had seen no results. He suspected them to be claw marks and the usual carpentry spells had no effect. The creature who had left them must have been magical in origin to leave behind such lasting scars. Draco knew he could fix them though. He just needed time.
Surrounded by a pile of textbooks and littered carpentry tools, time seemed to be the only thing he lacked, however. Identifying the creature had become his main goal for the day. If he knew what had caused the gashes, he could use specific spells to mend the wounds. General magic wasn't going to work. But the list of creatures of size and capability to leave marks like this was far longer than he'd expected and narrowing it down was proving impossible. He'd grown desperate enough to pull out Hagrid's bastard of a textbook, stroking the spine to avoid getting mauled.
But still, no luck.
He was pacing when he realized the sun had begun to rise. He'd been there for hours and was still not even a step closer to solving his problem. The tell tale chime of a clock a few aisles down told him if he wanted breakfast, he'd need to head down soon. But he wasn't hungry and the gashes were still there, mocking him with the exposed splinters. So for the last hour before his Charms class, he took to trying any specific spell he could find, maybe he would just happen upon it by random chance if he attempted enough things.
It didn't seem likely and the desperation was grating. He was tired; Exhausted even and he rubbed his eyes, remembering the 20 inch essay that he needed to turn in on Monday. He hadn't so much as started it and thinking about attending school today only grated on his nerves.
But his tardiness had gotten him two detentions already and he didn't have time to spend another evening dusting shelves with Professor Flitwick. So he grabbed his bag and pushed himself off the ground. He left the textbooks open on the floor, resolute to return to where he had left off during lunch. He took a moment to stretch, gratified by the soft pop of his spine as it realigned itself. He shook his head, fixing his hair, and gave a quick snap of his fingers by his left ear. He'd grown more used to the deafness on that side, but it still felt odd, like he was slightly off balance and he couldn't help but prod at it occasionally, like a bruise, checking to see if the problem was still there.
With his sleeves pulled back down and the anxiety placed firmly back on his shoulders, Draco made quick work of his solitary walk to the Charms classroom. The halls were buzzing with students running late to their classes and Draco did his best not to look any of them in the eyes. He ignored the protests of his stomach as he jogged the last few steps to join the few remaining students trickling in to find their seats. The classroom was nearly full but he had no trouble finding his friends, Pansy, Theo and Blaise tucked into the back corner, chattering happily. The conversation stalled as Draco unceremoniously kicked Theo's legs off his chair.
"Hey! I was just saving it for you!" Theo protested, dramatically rubbing his shin. "If you got here on time, I wouldn't have to."
"Hey Pansy. Blaise." Draco ignored him, doing his best to smile cheerfully. The group exchanged meaningful looks between each other but no one spoke. Draco, catching the concerned glances, decided he really didn't want to have to explain himself right now, so he turned to Theo who was always the easiest to distract.
"How has quidditch practice been going?" A well aimed hit, as Theo predictably grinned and launched into his diatribe about formations and flying sprints. He almost pulled off a Ronsky feint the other day, he was pleased to share, and Draco nodded along, genuinely happy to hear his friends were doing well. It was good to remind himself that there were still good things happening around him. Even if he couldn't be involved.
The class eventually started and they turned their attention to Flitwick. Draco wasn't oblivious though and caught the wary looks Theo and Pansy exchanged over him. He knew he didn't look great. His lack of sleep and skipped meals was wearing on his body and his robes hung a bit looser than they had at the start of term. They were probably right to be concerned, but Draco didn't have a good excuse to give them and found it altogether easier to avoid the conversation in the first place. He couldn't hold it against them though. He would be worried too.
Another essay was assigned and Draco's shoulders sagged. He'd have to spend his entire Sunday in the library just to finish the Herbology essay as it was. This one would just be more time spent in the library instead of where he needed to be. More time wasted.
He tried his best to engage with his friends in between classes as they walked from classroom to classroom. It was getting more difficult though. His eyes started to itch and during the third period, he noticed that his hands were trembling. He needed to eat something, or sleep. He wasn't sure.
By the time they were free to go to lunch, Draco decided that returning to the room of requirement was a lost cause. He was going to pass out if he didn't eat something and the stall in his research had him feeling a bit hopeless at the moment. So he followed Pansy to the Great Hall and picked at his food silently. He was starving but with how little he'd been eating recently, he felt sick just looking at the rich food in front of him. He chewed on a roll, hoping to settle his stomach and resolved not to miss dinner tonight.
It was at this point that he noticed Harry watching him from across the hall. The boy was grinning, miming something with his arms. Draco was too confused to react at first, unsure of what had possessed him to act like more of an idiot than usual. Until he realized he had forgotten about his 'maybe' that he'd given Harry yesterday. Quidditch. Oh yeah.
The sweeping motions he was doing with his hands was supposed to be flying, he supposed. Draco shook his head with an embarrassed grimace and motioned for him to stop. Thankfully, Harry let his hands drop to the table and grinned again, his glasses sitting lopsided on his nose. Draco covered his mouth to repress the laugh that was fighting its way out of him. Eventually he coughed and shooed Potter's attention back to his friends, who were watching both of them with an odd expression. The Weasel looked especially disgusted by the display and Draco hardly suppressed the urge to shout at him that the feeling was mutual.
If Pansy noticed, she didn't say anything. Too busy chatting happily with Millicent about God knows what. Draco sighed, determined to not encourage Potter with his attention any longer and slumped against the table. He had about thirty minutes until the end of lunch and a nap seemed like an excellent idea. Burying his face in his arms, he closed his eyes and focused on the rhythmic chaos of the dining hall around him, letting it lull him to sleep.
The rest of the afternoon passed with agonizing slowness. The nap at lunch had done little but make Draco even more aware of how exhausted he was and the classes were long lectures about subjects he didn't particularly care about. He almost fell asleep in Transfiguration, only to be awoken rudely by Theo elbowing him in the ribs. MacGonogall was scowling over him but didn't seem to think punishment necessary as she continued her class without another glance. Maybe even she could tell he was barely hanging on.
By the end of the day, Draco was frazzled and his head was swimming. He couldn't pretend anymore and collapsed into his bed without a word to his friends the second they reached their shared dorm.
"Hey, you alright?" Theo asked, undoing his tie.
Draco stifled a groan into his mattress. "Yeah, 'm good. Wake me for dinner, would you?" From the silence, Draco could practically see the concerned look he was sharing with Blaise but again, Draco did not want to have this conversation with them.
When Draco eventually came back to consciousness, the dorm was empty and the windows were dark. It took him a moment to come back to himself, remembering where he was. He hadn't even taken off his robes before falling asleep, he noted with a frown at the new wrinkles. He took off his outer layer and tossed it in the hamper along with his green tie. He unbuttoned his color and ran his hands through his somewhat greasy hair, checking his face in the mirror. He really did look terrible.
Not even a year ago, that would have bothered him. He always was such a vain boy. Now he was honestly kind of relieved by it. At least that meant everything happening to him was real; The stress was real. If it didn't affect him, Draco might have started to think he really was losing his mind. He wondered if he would ever go back to caring about his appearance once everything was over. It scared him to think that this apathy was just a new part of him, an irreconcilable adaptation. He hoped if he made it out of this alive, that one day he would learn to care about trivial things again, that would mean things were okay after all.
Draco made it to the Dining Hall just in time to see the doors close. He swore, earning himself a glare from a passing prefect. He stood there, unsure of what to do next. He didn't actually have much of an appetite but he knew the problem would only get worse if he continued to starve himself. The nausea would just make eating harder the longer he went without. Goddammit.
He was more frustrated with himself than anything. He should have set an alarm. Or he should have made himself fall asleep last night. He should have more control than this. He was a Malfoy and he was supposed to have more control than this. But he didn't have control over anything. Not himself, not his classes, he couldn't even figure out what animal made the gashes. He was fucking useless and the whole world might as well know. How was he supposed to do anything right if he couldn't even manage to feed himself? He swore again and started walking.
He wouldn't admit to himself where he was going though. He lied that he would just take the long route to the seventh floor and get back to work. He just needed a moment to clear his head. But as he got closer, his mind turned instead to rationalizing. He definitely wasn't going to join the game but maybe he would get to see Harry, just for a moment, and maybe that would make this shit day just a bit better.
He told himself it was a punishment, as he walked through the emptying corridors towards the staircase. He was such an utter failure, he might as well torture himself with the sight of Potter. He'd let his empty stomach clench at the sight of him and then pick apart every reason why Draco would never be enough. It was what he deserved, after all.
"Draco!" And then there it was, Harry's voice calling him over. Draco saw him next, dressed in his red quidditch gear as he jogged through the outdoor courtyard to meet him. Draco couldn't help but melt for the smile that greeted him and he forgot every excuse that he'd made as to why this was a bad idea. Harry looked so happy to see him and Draco tried to think of a single thing he wouldn't give to keep making Harry smile like that.
"Um, hey." Draco breathed, as Harry stopped in front of him.
"I'm glad you came-"
"Erm, yeah. Me too." Draco suddenly felt very awkward. He hadn't brought his quidditch gear or even his broom. He hadn't expected to join them at all and dressed in slacks and an unbuttoned dress shirt, he wasn't exactly flight ready. "I kind of… forgot. Until just now." He motioned to his attire. "I didn't bring my broom."
Harry didn't look bothered, his smile unwavering in the face of Draco's unpreparedness. "Nah, don't worry about it. You can borrow some of the team's gear. C'mon!" Draco didn't have time to react as Harry grabbed his elbow and started pulling him towards the locker rooms, as if Draco might try to make a break for it if allowed to walk on his own. He wondered if Harry was just as surprised as he was that he ended up here. Draco didn't much mind it though.
"You weren't at dinner, so I was worried you wouldn't show." Harry admitted, unable to keep his relief to himself.
"What, and miss out on-" Draco imitated the flailing arm motions that Harry had performed at lunch, earning him a soft jab to the shoulder.
"Watch it, Draco." Harry laughed.
"Oh, I can assure you that the entire student body was watching, Potter." Another playful jab. "Who else is playing with us?"
"Ron, Ginny, Seamus, Dean, I think Neville's gonna try playing Keeper."
Draco stopped, Harry's hand slipping off his arm. "Am I the only one not Gryffindor?" Harry shrugged. "Goddammit, Potter. Do they even know I'm coming?" He wasn't sure flying with him was going to be worth the utter embarrassment of crashing a Gryffindor quidditch practice. He wasn't sure why he hadn't considered this before. Most of Harry's friends were Gryffindors, meaning that playing with Harry and his friends meant playing with a bunch of people that really didn't like him.
"Of course I told them." He wouldn't make eye contact though and Draco waited. "..and… most of them were okay with it."
Draco groaned, swiveling back towards the castle.
"Hey, wait!" Harry blocked his path, using his arms as a barricade to keep Draco from escaping any further. "I really need the practice against someone who's good. I told them that and they're all totally chill. You won't even be playing against them, really. You'll be playing against me!" Harry's brain seemed to be working overtime, and Draco had to give him credit for trying. Draco could practically see the steam coming from his ears
"Fine." He groaned again, unable to deny this stupid boy whatever he wanted. "But only because I'm the best seeker at this damn school and you so obviously need the practice."
Harry grinned, hesitantly dropping his arms. "Exactly."
Harry dragged him the rest of the way to the locker room and shoved a spare uniform at him. "Go change, everyone else should be showing up in a bit."
"They're not already here?"
Harry chewed his lip. "I'm afraid you'll call me a twat again if I say I told you to be here earlier than everyone else." He ducked out of the doorway, just in time to dodge the kneepad Draco hurled at him.
Five minutes later, Draco was dressed in a Gryffindor uniform and feeling utterly foolish for not just going to get his own kit. Normally, he wouldn't be caught dead in Gryffindor colors but the thought of facing a gaggle of them in a dress shirt and knee pads… Maybe it would be easier to blend in. Maybe it would be easier to bury myself alive before Harry ccomes back. Draco scowled, refusing to look at himself in the mirror.
To his credit, Harry was trying his best to contain his laughter as Draco emerged. "If you say one word-" Draco growled, snatching the second broom that Harry was holding out to him.
"Not a word." Harry vowed, crossing his heart, but with the way his face was reddening from his attempts at composure, Draco suspected that there would be many words.
It only took a few minutes for the other Gryffindors to start appearing, happily greeting Harry before turning a perplexed look on Draco. Each time, Harry gave the same half baked excuse of needing to practice against the best and 'Draco was nice enough to help out!' It was becoming increasingly evident that Harry had not told them he would be here and his own mortification grew as more and more of them showed up.
"Hey Malfoy," Hermione was the first to actually speak to him though and Draco startled.
"Erm, Granger."
She stared at him for a moment, eyes wary as she appraised the gryffindor uniform. Draco couldn't remember the last time they had spoken and he had a suspicion the interaction had been less than pleasant. Perhaps he should apologize? No, that would just be strange. But the silence was awkward and Draco may have been willing to abandon his ego in hopes to fill the void.
Luckily, Hermione took pity on him before it came to that. "Thanks for helping Harry." She finally said. Her expression wasn't exactly friendly, but she seemed sincere, though what she had to be sincere about was lost on him. "I… really appreciate it."
"No problem, I guess." She nodded and walked away, finding a space on the bleachers to watch the game. Draco blinked, unsure of what exactly had just happened.
Once everyone had gathered on the pitch, Harry divided the teams and released the balls. Both he and Draco watched the snitch disappear into the clouds before glancing back at each other. Draco had been teamed up with Ginny, Neville and Dean and the dirty looks were not subtle from them. Harry was right though. They would basically be playing an entirely different game. All Draco had to worry about was catching the snitch and beating Harry. Easy enough.
Kicking off in unison, the air was soon filled with Gryffindors. Draco rose far above them, watching lazily as the quaffle went into play. He'd forgotten how much colder it was in the sky, and Draco took a long inhale, letting his shoulders relax. It was tempting to ditch the game and just go flying over the forest; He'd missed this.
Harry was beside him before he had the chance to act though, grabbing Draco's broom handle and anchoring them together.
"Cheating already, Potter?"
"Nah." But he didn't elaborate, keeping his hold firm to stay floating side by side. Draco didn't protest. He was happy to wait a moment to start playing in earnest; The breeze was pleasant enough against his skin and there was worse company than Harry Potter.
"I'm surprised your friends are being so cordial to me." Draco said wistfully, watching with interest as Ginny intercepted the quaffle and raced for the hoops. "I haven't exactly ingratiated myself with them in the past." It was a sad thought, thinking of the years Draco had spent deepening the chasm between himself and Harry. Even without the mark on his arm, they were so distant.
"Yeah, well they're good friends. And they trust me to be a pretty okay judge of character." He said it was a soft smile, not bothering to hide the adoration he had for his people.
"And I suppose you've 'judged' my character?" Draco couldn't help but scoff a little. "Do I dare even ask?"
Harry looked at him oddly. "You're a good person, Draco. You know that, right?"
Draco hoped the cold wind was enough to excuse the blush that was creeping up his neck. He wasn't sure how to reply to that because of course Harry thought that: Harry didn't know Draco. Harry didn't know what he'd done-What he was doing. Yet. He'd find out eventually, of course. Draco's heart sank a little at the thought.
"I suppose even you can be fooled occasionally." Draco responded after a pause that lasted just a little too long.
Harry just smiled softly, letting his hand fall from Draco's broom. "I'm fully capable of choosing my friends, you know. And I think I'd quite like it if you considered me one as well."
The air stilled as the two boys slowly drifted away from each other. Draco had a sneaking suspicion that they'd had this conversation before. But before he could place it, Harry was zooming towards the ground. Draco followed, unsure of what Harry was seeing but if he got too far ahead, Draco would have no hope of catching up.
They raced. Harry pulled to the left in a weak attempt to throw Draco off. He was out of practice but the instincts never quite faded and he managed to follow without too much difficulty.
Eventually, Harry pulled to a stop by the hoops giving Neville a cheeky grin. Maybe he was imagining things, but Neville seemed to lose some of his color as he looked at Draco approaching the pair.
"Did you actually see the snitch or are you just being a prat?" Draco asked Harry, hoping to keep Neville upright on his broom by not directly acknowledging him.
"Just keeping you on your toes." Harry grinned, winking.
Draco rolled his eyes, once again hoping his flush wasn't as visible as it felt. But then a little flash of gold caught his eye and he moved before his brain had registered the new information. The snitch was hovering just above the empty stands, right where the Hufflepuffs would have been sitting if this were a real game.
He could tell Harry was following him but Draco had gotten a reasonable head start and dove after the snitch as it darted towards the ground. Gritting his teeth, he reached a hand out. Just a bit further.
The snitch shot upwards, dodging out of his grasp and before he could twist his body to follow, Harry barreled into his side.
"What the fuck, Potter!?" Draco scouled, kicking Harry's broom away from him. He scanned the sky but the snitch was gone. "Dammit, I almost had it."
Harry shrugged apologetically but his smile said he was anything but. "Whoops."
Draco's lip curled. "That's how it's going to be, huh?"
"Seems like it."
They flew upward again, circling each other as their eyes scoured the pitch from above. They hadn't been keeping score but Draco suspected Ginny was by far the superior player of the group. She made the rest of the Gryffindors, even those who were also on the team, look like amateurs with the control she had on her broom. If she wasn't part of the Weasel clan, Draco would have admitted that he was impressed.
The next time the snitch appeared, Draco was determined to win. It was hovering just above Dean Thomas' head. He fainted left and shot down, leaving Harry trailing behind him. He willed his broom to go faster as the snitch began to jerk and dodge along the field. It was all he could do to avoid the other players in his dash.
"Draco!" Harry's voice was panicked and it was enough to make Draco look up from his singular focus just in time to see a bludger hurtling towards him from his left. I didn't hear it. He thought absently as it struck him.
And then he was in freefall. It didn't last long enough for him to panic but the familiar sensation of the floor falling out from underneath him was oddly comforting. He knew it was Harry's magic that caught him. He wasn't sure how, but the warm hum of energy and the subtle scent of vanilla just felt familiar as his body was gently deposited on the ground.
He knew objectively that he'd been hurt but the grass was soft and the sky was blue and Harry's eyes were so damn green. Harry was leaning over him, Draco supposed, gazing up at the handsome face. Maybe he'll finally kiss me. Draco laughed at this thought, a broad grin sticking to his face. Harry looked relieved and Draco came back to his body enough to sit up and face him.
"Draco, are you alright?" Harry seemed to be scanning the Slytherin for mortal wounds and Draco chuckled again.
"I think so." He held out his wrist, a large red welt forming from the bludgers strike. "Got me pretty good, though." Draco bobbed his head, turning his hand over to examine the damage. It wasn't broken but it would leave a nasty enough bruise.
Harry had turned away and was motioning towards the other players, who had started to fly closer to investigate the pair on the ground. "He's fine! Keep playing!" He shouted and the Gryffindors dispersed back into their game.
Draco was slightly offended at that. "I could be dying of a concussion and you would just…keep playing?"
"You just said you were fine." Harry countered.
"That's beside the point."
Harry laughed and plopped himself next to Draco in the grass. "So dramatic. Let me see."
"No." It was his left wrist. The welt was only a few inches away from his more conspicuous mark.
Harry didn't seem to hear him and took Draco's hand anyway, pulling it towards him. "Oh, don't be such a Hufflepuff."
Panic lanced through him and he wasn't sure he was breathing as Harry examined his wrist. But Harry made no attempt to move Draco's sleeve up, wholly ensconced in the injury. The gentle way he handled him, soft touches brushing over knuckles, made Draco's heart flutter. Harry was so tender, like he was handling the most valuable piece of glass. It was excruciating.
"Doesn't look too bad at least."
"Thank you, Harry, for your expert opinion." Holding any amount of sarcasm seemed just about impossible at the moment but Draco would be damned if he didn't try anyway. Harry was grinning. "What?"
"You called me Harry again." His voice was soft, fingers brushing equally soft circles into the palm of Draco's hand.
"So I did." He hadn't meant to. But he'd been calling him Harry for months in his head. It was hard to revert back to his old habits, especially when he was being so sweet. He knew he should take back his hand, but he didn't. Maybe he would think about why later. "I'm sorry you had to save me again."
"Wouldn't miss it."
"I suppose it is rather good fodder for that savior complex of yours. I didn't even hear the damn thing coming." Draco sighed, leaning imperceptibly closer to him.
"Is it because of your ear?" Harry flinched as he said it, turning Draco's hand over once again to stare at the red area. Draco supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Harry had noticed given how little it seemed Draco could hide from him.
"Well, that is usually how one might hear something."
"No, I mean-"
"I know what you mean." Draco sighed again, bumping his shoulder against him. "Yeah. I was kind of hoping it would fix itself with time, but… no luck."
Harry stared. "So you really are deaf?" his fingers flexed against Draco's. "Because of me?"
Draco laughed. "Oh, sod off. Not everything is about you, Potter." Draco laced their fingers together absentmindedly, giving Harry a brief squeeze before relinquishing control of the touch. "I am deaf in my left ear because I am an enormous git and refused to go to Madame Pomphrey when I should have. Absolutely no other reason."
Harry was watching their hands now, frowning deeply. "When you talk like that, you remind me of someone I used to know."
Draco thought it a slightly strange way to change the topic, but he wouldn't complain. Anything to stop Harry from spiraling into his own guilt. "A rather exceptional fellow, I presume."
Harry chuckled, massaging the spaces between Draco's knuckles. "I think you would definitely call him that." Draco waited, unsure of what exactly Harry wanted him to say. "I-I miss him."
Harry met Draco's eyes with a longing that would have made him crumple to the ground. A look so desperate for something that Draco didn't know how to give him.
Oh.
And it suddenly became very obvious to Draco that Harry knew who he was. Harry knew about the letters and he knew that Draco was the one to write them. Draco swallowed and tried to keep from panicking. If he didn't react, he wouldn't have to acknowledge it; They wouldn't have to have this conversation.
"Well." Draco tore his gaze away, giving Harry another reassuring squeeze. "I hope you find him, Potter." Harry hummed in acknowledgement, his shoulder slumping ever so slightly. The touch was starting to burn, so close to something that Draco wanted so badly and yet could never have. A tortured glimpse of what might have been.
"I've been thinking about something." If not for the clear change in Harry's tone, Draco would have actually run away. But it seemed that Harry was willing to have mercy and move on.
"Don't hurt yourself." And yes, it was low hanging fruit but Draco needed some way to regain control of the situation as Harry's calloused touch seemed to consume him.
Harry snickered a bit and Draco smiled. "Would you call me Harry? I mean instead of 'Potter.'" Met with Malfoy's silence, he continued. "I just mean… well. I guess I like it- when you call me by my first name." Harry resolutely refused to meet Draco's gaze. "Cus it means we're friends, yaknow? And I like it-I-I like that we're friends."
The blush on Harry's tan skin was not one that could be blamed on the chilly weather and Draco let himself smile, admiring the way it deepened his complexion. Harry really was beautiful and it hurt to have to say it, but there was no way around the truth of the situation. Draco gently withdrew his hand from Harry's and straightened his back.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Potter." He tried to speak as gently as Harry had touched him, ignoring the way Harry's eyes fell helplessly to his now empty hands. Draco waited a moment, leaving room for Harry to protest but nothing came. Eventually, Draco stood up, brushing off his uniform and gathering his broom from where it had fallen. "I appreciate you saving me, but I really should be getting back to work."
Draco liked to believe that he wasn't afraid of many things. He was afraid of Voldemort and losing his family and sometimes spiders if they were big enough. He now suspected that he was also afraid of Harry Potter. Not because of who he was or what he meant, but the conversation that was increasingly seeming inevitable.
Draco was afraid of hurting Harry and afraid of letting slip more than he intended. But most of all, Draco was afraid that his resolve would crumble under his emerald green gaze. So he was true to what he now believed of himself and acted the coward, avoiding Harry at every possible intersection.
Which turned out to be a rather simple task. In the classes they shared, Draco went out of his way to surround himself with his fellow Slytherins, avoiding the sharp stares that he knew Harry was casting his way. In the halls, Draco had a particular talent for disappearing and he sat on the other side of the dining table in order to keep his back turned to him. He no longer studied at his solitary table in the library and opted to work in the Slytherin common room instead. He left no openings for Harry to weasel through and was finally left alone. And it was easier that way, Draco told himself, for both of them.
Between the cabinet, school and avoiding Harry, Draco was too busy to worry about much else and the weeks passed quietly. In October, Draco discovered that the gashes in the cabinet were left by an Oni and was finally able to restore the cabinet to its former glory. The magical restoration was a much more arduous task but the progress made Draco hopeful.
It was only as November rolled around that Draco began to consider how he would deal with Dumbledore. It was also in November that Snape began harassing him to ask for help. Draco didn't have much of himself left but he'd never given up his pride and so he refused. Partially to satisfy his own ego and partially in fear for his mother's safety if Voldemort ever found out Draco was too weak to complete it alone. But Snape wasn't entirely unhelpful because Draco now possessed vials of undetectable poison and books on the dark arts of deadly curses. He didn't have a plan yet, but just having them made him feel slightly more steady on his course of murder. He would rather not have to duel the old man afterall, mostly because he was certain he'd lose.
School work was another matter altogether and Draco found himself barely getting by with his grades. It was humiliating but he tried not to dwell on it. Grades would hardly matter after Voldemort took over. It should have been a comforting thought but Draco tried his best not to think about it.
Draco was running late again and he all but sprinted towards the charms classroom. The halls only had a few stragglers left and Draco could have cried in relief when he arrived to see Flitwick's podium empty. The professor seemed to be running late to class as well. He would not be going to detention today and that was enough to put a smile on his face as he approached his gaggle of friends.
"The perfect prince finally deigns to grace us with his presence." Theo mocked lightheartedly.
Pansy grinned but he could tell it wasn't fully sincere. "Where have you been?"
"You missed breakfast. Again." Blaise added in his standard motherly tone that he took when he was worried.
"I was just catching up on some homework. I'm fine though." Draco shrugged, grateful for his friends but also very aware that he was a terrible liar around them. He had actually been testing a new charm on the cabinet all night and had lost track of the time.
"Oh, so you've started that Herbology essay? Mind if I take a look? I don't really know what she's looking for with it." Theo was smiling as he said it but Draco's shoulders slumped.
"No… It was for a different class."
"Bullshit." Theo's smile fell away, and the group turned, focused solely on Draco's shrinking form. Theo kicked his shoe under the desk. "What's going on, Draco?"
"Just something for my father." Draco stared at Theo imploringly, begging him to understand. He couldn't talk about it, couldn't share specifics. That would put them all at risk, but the Knott family had just as many death eater ties as the Malfoys and if anyone was going to get it, he would. Theo held their eye contact, searching for something before giving him a curt nod. Pansy seemed to understand too, dread covering her calm expression. Blaise appeared frustrated to be the only one out of the loop but didn't say anything. He would likely harass the others later for information.
"Okay." Theo said, resolution molded into his stiff posture. "How can we help?"
"I don't know. I don't think you can." He didn't want them in on this. He didn't want them to be caught in the shit show with him. He'd known each of them since they were toddlers and the thought of Voldemort turning his attention to any of them made him want to vomit.
"Bullshit." Pansy echoed softly, her eyes dark. Theo nodded in assent.
"Slytherins stick together." Blaise muttered.
Theo's face broke into his broadest grin, adding. "Hiss hiss amirite?" Draco chuckled, the ancient house tradition had always been a bit silly to him. He doubted the Gryffindors made lion sounds at each other to signify house loyalty. And the idea of Ravenclaws squawking at each other was downright sacrilege. Hell, he didn't even know what sound a badger made. But the meaning was clear. They were with him regardless of the danger and Draco couldn't help but feel a bit relieved.
"Yeah, hiss hiss." And he gave them a real, genuine smile, forever grateful for his little band of snakes. And it wouldn't take long for him to think of a way for his snakes to assist him.
Draco arrived at Slughorn's Christmas party dressed in pressed green robes on the arm of an impeccably tailored Theo. It hadn't taken much convincing for Draco to be invited as his plus one. After their group intervention, Theo practically jumped at the opportunity to be of use. And Draco was grateful. Theo really was incredible and it brought him no small amount of pleasure to know that Slughorn thought so as well.
The plan was simple enough. He'd overheard Slughorn discussing his Christmas present for Dumbledore in class. What better way could there possibly be to send the headmaster a dose of poison? But getting access to his personal chambers was a lot harder than he'd anticipated. And so here he was: dressed for a party with his handsome best friend, about to attempt murder.
The party was being held on the eighth floor in an enlarged space where Slughorn held his weekly Slug Club dinners. His personal chambers were connected but you wouldn't be able to tell with the drapes that had been hung over the walls, blocking off the doorways. The space was much larger than Draco had anticipated, and it seemed likely that Slughorn had used a similar spell as Snape to provide adequate room for his guests to move around. The space had been filled with lights and festive decor, a soft christmas song emanating from the center.
The decorations were garish in Draco's opinion. His mother had hosted yearly balls for the holidays and they were always gorgeous with a subtle ethereal quality. Whereas, Slughorn had as much nuance with his decor as a muggle grocery store. The tree in the corner of the room was slightly too large and the tip bent where it collided with the ceiling. The red and green lights flashed out of time with the music and looking at it too long gave Draco a headache. Tinsel dangled haphazardly from the ceiling and there were no less than ten sprigs of overlarge mistletoe hanging here and there.
Draco took two glasses of sparkling cider from a passing house elf and handed one to Theo. He dared not roam too far from his friend as more guests arrived. He would need to snoop but it would do no good to start before the party had really begun. He needed people distracted when he slipped away.
It wasn't until he saw Granger's fuzzy brown hair that he began to worry. He hadn't considered whether or not Harry would be attending this party. It made sense that he would; Slughorn practically worshiped the ground he walked on. Draco really just hadn't thought about it. Fuck.
"How ya doing, buddy?" Theo nudged him with his elbow, taking a sip from his glass. "You look like you're gonna puke."
"Not yet, but the night is still young." Draco chuckled, leaning against him. "Thanks again for bringing me."
"Of course. Anything for the mini Malfoy."
The familiar gratitude bubbled up once again and he smiled fondly. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. Even if Draco did succeed with his mission and had to live the rest of his life under Voldemort, he'd have his friends. And a world with Theo and Pansy and Blaise couldn't be a complete failure.
For a moment, he convinced himself that it would be enough, until the untamed jet black hair appeared in the doorway and Draco knew he was wrong. Harry was wearing a crimson red shirt, a long black cloak framing his broad shoulders. He looked as though he'd attempted to comb his hair back but just through the sheer untidy nature of it, it had resumed its state of disarray. He smiled as he greeted Slughorn, Luna Lovegood coming to stand by his side.
Draco hadn't spoken to Harry since the conversation on the grass. Not for a lack of effort on Harry's part but Draco was very good at running it seemed. Turning away before Harry spotted him, Draco pulled Theo farther into the party. They turned the topic of conversation to quidditch and Draco let Theo gush about the team without interrupting much. He just needed to wait a little longer before he could start snooping. He needed to blend in.
The party swelled around them, more and more guests arriving. Draco found it an interesting pastime to guess which guests were part of the Slug Club and which were merely add-ons. Draco was bred for these situations and felt confident in his ability to identify people at ease. Besides, it was a nice boost to his ego to have Theo confirm his suspicions.
He pointedly ignored Harry's attempts to catch his eye and found himself instead inching closer to the curtain that hid the exit towards Slughorn's personal chambers. He just needed to get in and get out. The vial stashed in his sleeve was burning a hole and he needed it gone.
"Draco. Theodore." Harry rudely cut in, interrupting Theo's regalement of a match he had seen over the Summer.
"Call me Theo." They shook hands and Draco found himself quite pleased that even Harry was not immune to Theo's contagious grin. "I haven't seen you at many of these things."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I've been a bit busy this semester. He sure does know how to throw a party though, huh?"
"Like you wouldn't believe. You should have seen the fiasco that was soup night at the Slug Club."
Harry laughed and Draco found his attention drifting. Harry's glasses were just the tiniest bit crooked on his nose and it was increasingly difficult not to reach out and adjust them for him. Harry was so goddamn gorgeous.
"You alright there?" Harry asked.
Draco blinked and nodded. "Yeah, sorry." He'd been staring.
"I'm surprised you're not a regular member, Draco. Slughorn usually loves his Slytherins."
Draco wasn't sure how to explain that he probably would have been invited to participate if not for a recent incident with his father and the ministry that had cast the Malfoy name into disrepute. It seemed like a lot of baggage to bring up all at once for polite conversation. Theo, thankfully, was much better at this.
"Nah, Draco's not the kind he collects. Too much sass to have a pleasant evening with." Harry laughed at that and Draco couldn't help but smile at the sound.
"Oh shove off. Both of you."
"See? That's exactly what I mean." Theo shook his head in mock disappointment.
"Well. This has been lovely. But we wouldn't want to hog the Chosen one's attention all night." Draco rolled his eyes and pulled Theo's arm in a direction that was away. But Harry didn't seem willing to let that happen, following right beside them.
"No, no. I'm happy to give you all of it." He paused and locked eyes with Draco, expression dead serious. "My attention, that is."
"Well, I won't complain." Theo laughed, unaware of the understanding passing between the two boys next to him. Harry wasn't going to let him run anymore it seemed. They weren't going to pretend to be unaware. Draco's hand twitched and he matched the intensity of Harry's stare.
"Theo, why don't you tell Potter about your training? He is the best seeker at Hogwarts." Draco winked, more out of habit than anything else. "I'm sure he could give you some tips." Harry smirked, still watching Draco with a slight wariness. "I'm going to go see if I can find the restroom."
Theo understood the queue and launched into a long explanation of what they'd been working on. Draco shrugged apologetically at Harry and slipped away.
It wasn't hard to get into Slughorn's office, slipping behind one of the many tapestry curtains and muttering an unlocking charm. It was almost too easy. But Draco supposed he was a potions man, maybe warding charms weren't his expertise.
Finding the wine was a much harder endeavor. He rummaged through the cupboard and moved things aside on bookshelves until he found a fine bottle of wine stashed in his bottom drawer, a delicate green ribbon fastened around its neck.
Draco tried not to think very much about what he was doing as he magically uncorked the bottle and poured the poison into it. He tried not to imagine Dumbledore writhing on the ground dying while he recapped the bottle and vanished any trace of his tampering. He tried not to think of Harry finding out it was Draco who'd done it as he closed the drawer and stepped back.
Draco felt his heartbeat quickening and the familiar sensation of losing his breath overtook him. Fully aware of his rising panic, Draco stumbled to the small glass doors on the other side of Slughorn's desk and let himself out. He choked on the cold night air as he attempted and failed to clear his mind.
Draco was as good as a murderer now. He was evil and vile and Harry would know it. You're a good person, Draco. Harry had told him that, and Draco had proved him wrong. He'd proved everyone wrong. Everyone who had ever believed that he could be more than the Malfoy name. They were wrong because he was a murderer now.
Draco's hands were still shaking when Harry found him, standing alone against the railing of Slughorn's balcony. It was cold and Draco's dress robes weren't enough to blunt the edge, but the view was worth it. Draco could almost make out the monster in the lake moving around. He'd seen it before from the Slytherin common room but it was different from above: more majestic.
"Hey." Harry whispered the greeting as if afraid to shatter the stillness of the moment. Draco didn't answer and Harry joined him against the railing, standing just close enough to brush shoulders.
A long moment passed before Harry spoke again. "Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?"
"Only once that mattered." Draco's words were too quiet but he was sure Harry heard them. They stood in silence after that, enjoying the quiet sounds of the lake from below. Eventually, the looming inevitability became too much for Draco. "So you know?"
"Yeah."
"How long?"
"Start of term."
Draco nodded at that, things clicking into place in his memory. "I suppose that makes sense. How did you figure it out?"
Harry hunched his shoulders, not looking at him. "Long story. It probably doesn't matter."
"I suppose not."
"I- I've missed you."
Draco swallowed, his voice scratchy. "I know." He paused and said with more softness than he knew he was capable of. "I've missed you too."
Harry smiled at him but then furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "You've been avoiding me."
"Harry-"
"What happened? Did I do something wrong?" Draco could tell he was talking about the letters and not necessarily the past months of silence, but that didn't make it any easier to answer.
"No. You're perfect." Draco breathed the words without much thought, as if they were the most natural thing to fall from his mouth. "There's just- There's things you don't understand."
"Well, help me understand."
"I- I wish I could." Harry's fingers curled around Draco's, intertwining seamlessly. Draco stared at the connection and felt tears start to build behind his eyes. "There's a lot of things I wish for, Harry. A lot of things that I can't have."
"You can have me."
Draco chewed on his lip, blinking rapidly and shook his head. Harry's grip tightened around his.
"Tell me what's wrong. Please." His voice was pleading, his eyes desperate. "I'd help you if you'd just tell me."
"I can't." His voice cracked as he spoke and he pulled his hands away to cover his face. "Harry- I'm sorry-"
"Don't do this to me, Draco. Please." He reached to reclaim the pale boy's hand but stopped when Draco pulled back. Harry's eyes fell, any hope left seeming to drain out of him. "Please. I-I'm in love with you."
Draco took a heaving breath, rubbing his palms against his eyes to stop the rapidly approaching flood of tears. "Don't say that."
"Why?"
"You of all people shouldn't love someone like me." And there wasn't much else to say. Draco refused to cry. He simply refused to. And he didn't. It wasn't until he was alone in his four poster bed that he allowed himself to think of Harry, the boy who might have loved him, and he let the tears fall.