It will be ironic to die this way: no magic, no ritual, simple and unmistakably muggle.
Something was going on, and Harry was steadfastly determined not to notice. It wasn't his job anymore, and he refused—absolutely refused— to get involved this time. He'd killed Voldemort, saved the wizarding world, and died for Merlin's sake. Whatever was making McGonogall frown like that certainly had nothing to do with him, and he wouldn't ask. He hadn't seen that expression on her face since she'd sent children to fight for their school, but whatever the issue was, surely an adult could handle it. It was his first day back at Hogwarts, and this year he would be a normal student whether they liked it or not.
Just one year. Could he just have one normal year?
He frowned at his slice of treacle tart, a piece cut far too large for his current appetite, and waited as the new first years were sorted into their houses. There were fewer than usual, only six joining Gryffindor and even fewer for the other houses. It wasn't necessarily surprising considering the deaths—any parents in their right mind would homeschool after so many hadn't come home last Summer—but it was a bit disappointing, and Harry decided that must be the reason McGonnogal's brow was drawn into a tight line, her posture stiff and unyielding.
"Weird to be back, isn't it?" Ron whispered, pushing his spoon through a bowl of untouched chocolate pudding.
"It's more strange how little anything has changed," Hermione added, glancing along the rows of tables, the students chattering happily in their new uniforms as if corpses hadn't been displayed in the spaces they now occupied. Harry tried not to count the empty seats where he knew people should be; there were too many, and he couldn't let the guilt cripple him again.
"Do you think coming back was a mistake?" Harry asked, unprompted.
Hermione gave him the same sympathetic smile he had come to hate in the past few months. "Of course not, Harry. It'll be good for us." Her voice trailed off as she cast another glance over the Great Hall, the glimmer in her eye dimming just a bit. "Finishing our education is important if we want a normal future."
He nodded. It was the same thing she'd said a dozen times to convince him to come back in the first place. Somehow, it had been more convincing when he was secluded in the dark hallways of Grimmauld, far away from the ghosts of students he let die.
"McGonnogal looks just as excited to be here as we are if it's any consolation," Ron noted with a snort.
"Probably just disappointed with the low turnout," Harry said, more so to keep his own mind from wandering back to the unwelcome worries. His eyes drifted to the Slytherin table—starkly empty aside for a few 8th years and newly sorted first years. That wasn't much of a surprise either. Apparently, it had been a massive scandal when parents found out their Slytherin children were locked in a dungeon rather than evacuated for the battle. He was more surprised that the house still existed at all than the students themselves had been transferred elsewhere.
There was only one concerning absence, and that was only because Harry had been at his trial and remembered all too well the terms of his probation. And yet, Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.
It's none of your business, Harry. He told himself, turning his eyes back to the flaky crust of his favorite dessert. He took a bite, swallowing resolutely as it turned to ash in his mouth.
With this same attitude, he ignored the very strange, last-minute changes to room assignments in the newly constructed 8th-year dormitory. Ron's name was scribbled out and replaced with a blank white space on the neatly organized sheet of paper telling the 8th years where they would be staying for the next ten months. It was the only change to assignments, but that was probably normal, wasn't it? McGonnogal just realized they would never get anything done if they lived together, and Blaise Zabini was a far more sensible option as Ron's roommate. It wasn't strange at all when he really thought about it.
He tried to remain optimistic, grateful to be the only person to have a room with himself. Harry liked privacy, and it would be better than sharing with someone like Terry Boot or Zacharius Smith. Things could be worse, he told himself as he stared at the empty bed across the small room.
It wasn't until the summons from the Headmistress' office arrived at his door that he knew whatever was happening would disrupt his perfectly normal year, as much as he tried to pretend it wouldn't. Nothing could go wrong and leave him out of it, it seemed.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked from across the familiar desk. Macgonogall sighed and pressed her hands together as if that would help her find the right words. It was unusual to see her like this, and it was far too late to have a conversation at all if you asked Harry.
"He's ill." She said again and paused. "More so of mental afflictions, but recent events have added physical to the list as well."
"He's lost it then?" Harry wasn't following, but Draco Malfoy going crazy wasn't the most unbelievable thing he'd ever heard. Harry could argue he had never been sane to begin with.
"He-" Macgonal furrowed her brows back into the unnerving expression from the Great Hall and leveled her stare at Harry. "He attempted to take his own life." Harry didn't react, unsure of how he even would. "Last week. He nearly succeeded, but thankfully- well, it's of no matter." She waved a weary hand as if to clear the air. "He's been treated at St. Mungo's and will be well enough to join the rest of the eighth years tomorrow."
Harry wasn't sure where to look as he processed the information. "Why are you telling me this, professor?"
"Well." She paused again. "I've spoken to the healers and his mother, and the… likelihood of another attempt is concerning." She cleared her throat before continuing. "If left unattended, we fear he may be a danger to himself."
She seemed to be done speaking, but that couldn't be right because she had yet to answer his question. Dread pooled in his stomach, and he prompted. "And you want me to…?"
She sighed. "I know you and he have never gotten along." Harry snorted. "But we need certain safeguards, and I feel that you would be the best choice. The professors can only watch him so much, and I would ask that you room with Mr. Malfoy and keep a close eye on him should he try anything detrimental to his wellbeing."
"You want me to babysit… Malfoy?" His regret in returning to school was slowly climbing up his throat.
"I wouldn't call it that, but yes."
"Why do I have to do it, though? Why not one of his Slytherin friends?" Harry knew better than to ask why he couldn't stay home with his family. The terms of his release were clear: It was Hogwarts or Azkaban. Harry doubted that the Winzangamot cared enough for the mental state of a paroled Death Eater to make exceptions.
"Mr. Malfoy has a certain amount of… influence over his housemates. I fear he'll be able to manipulate them, and that is something that I'm confident you won't fall for."
"Why not someone else? There are plenty of Gryffindors who could-"
Maggonogal raised her brow skeptically. "Mr. Potter, do you seriously think Neville Longbottom would fare well against Malfoy's temper? Would you wish that upon him? Dean? Seamus? Hermione? Pray tell me who you would recommend for the job? I'm happy to consider other options if you have them."
Harry swallowed and looked away.
"Besides, he's also not the most popular these days, and I think being around you might keep ill-wishers away from him." Her tone softened as she spoke, the thick Scottish accent receding to its normal levels.
"Ill-wishers?" Harry asked, having nothing better to say.
"He's been attacked on the street twice since the trial. While I do have hope that Hogwarts students might know better, I am not naive enough to think that his return here will be easily accepted by all." Something clicked from across the classroom, a high, tinny sound that reminded Harry distinctly of his meetings with Dumbledore in this very same office.
The onslaught of morbid nostalgia wasn't enough to distract him from the reality of the situation. Harry hadn't known about the attacks. He hadn't known about much of anything, frankly. He might have had his head planted underground for how much he'd been conscious of the world outside Grimmauld for the last few months. He only found out Ginny wasn't returning to school on the train ride here.
"I chose you because you're strong enough to restrain him, should it come to that. You're clever, and I trust you won't let personal grudges interfere with your best judgment. I'm choosing you because I trust you, Harry. And you're the best one for the task."
He scrunched his eyes shut, her arguments hitting him like small rocks to the skull. He didn't want to do this.
"Harry," She continued with a somber tone. "Draco is a student of Hogwarts, and as such, I have a duty to ensure his safety, but I'm afraid I can't do that without help. I know this school has already asked far too much of you, but I'm afraid we have very few options."
"Goddammit. He's such a prick, though." It wasn't a real protest. More of a reluctant complaint for what he was about to do. Macgonigal smiled gently, and Harry buried his fingers in his messy hair. "Fine."