July 1, 1995
"Paris Breast," Draco says in a bored drawl as he twirls his wand.
He just reached the front of the line of La Baguette Magique, the premier bakery in Ruelle Enchantée. The alley proved far superior to Diagon in its offering of shops and higher fashions than the swill of the Three Broom Sticks and rags of Madame Malkins.
Without missing a beat, the waiter's mischievous smile widens at Draco's choice.
"A Paris Breast for Monsieur Malfoy. Excellent choice," he replies, his French accent dripping with amusement.
Draco can't help but feel a prickle of annoyance at the implied mockery in the waiter's tone. How dare this insignificant peasant question his taste?
"I assure you, I know exactly what I want," Draco retorts sharply, meeting the waiter's gaze with a glint of challenge in his silver eyes.
The man simply raises an eyebrow, unfazed by Draco's haughty demeanour.
"Well, I thought someone of your... caliber might prefer something a bit more of a….mouthful," the waiter teases cryptically, his hazel eyes twinkling with hidden knowledge.
Intrigued despite himself, Draco leans in slightly, his curiosity piqued by the waiter's words.
It can't be what he thinks it is. No one would be that crass, that obvious and in the middle of a bakery.
"And what, would you suggest instead?" he asks with an air of calculated nonchalance.
"A baguette with salami and mayonnaise," the messy-haired waiter says with a wink.
Draco raises his eyebrows at the overt form of flirting the waiter employs.
"Is that so," Draco says in a considering tone.
"I prefer to live on the edge," the waiter says with a wry smile.
It is then that Draco notices that his pupils are ringed with bright green, creating a startling contrast with the waiter's dark hair. He leans forward across the counter, his fingertips brushing the waiters.
"I see," Draco says with a predatory smirk, "It would appear you have convinced me,"
The waiter makes the sandwich quickly and hands it to Draco with a flirty smile.
"If monsieur would like a recommendation for his picnic, I would suggest in Le Jardin des Merveilles Magiques, under the big oak tree. It is best at 3 p.m., the crowds disperse around then,"
"I'll keep that in mind," Draco says with a smile, tipping the waiter an outrageous amount for a sandwich.
Draco blinks bleary against the fading light in the meadow, his new favourite place to escape everything. These strange visions have been terrifying, but he at least remembers experiencing all the ones that happened before this one. He remembers going to the bakery, but that's where his real memory diverges. He recalls the waiter being forgettable, barely sparing him a glance and he never went to that park afterwards. He went to a gallery to view Pureblood artwork and then back to their villa to have a pleasant meal with his mother.
So where did that strange boy come from and what did his sudden appearance mean?
Harry wakes up to bright flashing lights, blinding him outside his window. As he squints against the intrusive glare, he realizes that his house is surrounded by a throng of reporters, their cameras clicking away furiously. The sound of their questions filters through the glass, muffled yet insistent.
"Harry, can you confirm that Draco Malfoy saved your life in the accident?"
"Mr. Potter, do you have any comments on Draco's heroism?"
"Is it true that you owe your life to Draco Malfoy?"
The onslaught of voices is enough to make Harry's head spin. He feels a surge of anger building up within him, threatening to spill over. How dare they intrude on his privacy like this? How dare they reduce the ordeal he went through to a spectacle for their headlines?
Feeling overwhelmed and suffocated by the unwanted attention, Harry takes a step back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The loud voices outside seep through the walls of his relatives' house, shattering his peace.
And then, amidst the sea of reporters, Harry spots Collin, holding up a poster that reads "Prom with me, Harry?"
The audacity of it all pushes Harry over the edge. He storms downstairs, passing his Uncle Vernon who is counting a fat stack of bills in his grubby hand. Harry scowls but ignores him, knowing yelling will only make things worse for him. He isn't surprised anyway. The settlement deal between them and Sirius over his custody only said that they couldn't call the reporters on Harry, not charge them to stay on private property once they already caught sent of a trail. He stomps across the lawn in fury shoving his way through the horde, until he gets to Collin growling,
"What are you doing here?"
Collin looks at his angry expression in surprise.
"I want to help you control the narrative about the crash, so I thought I would help you change it with the happy news of being your Christmas Ball date. Everyone loves a romance story," he says looking so desperate and hopeful it makes Harry's skin crawl with disgust.
Harry's mouth twists to the side and he forces himself to smile,
"Thank you, for the offer Collin, but I'm going to Seattle that weekend, so I won't be able to attend at all,"
Harry doesn't stick around to watch Collin's face fall as a hundred cameras capture his expression from every angle. He pushes to the street where his bike waits on the curb. Before he reaches it, a strong arm pulls him into an embrace and Harry looks up in surprise to see Ginny and Albus a little way off. Albus glares at the reporters, giving them a stern talking about how the Order of the Phoenix valued students' privacy and protects them against privacy invasion against acts like this. He inserted that public schools should look to them as an example. Ginny looks mournful and distressed as she lets him go.
"Ginny, Albus, what are you doing here?
"We came as soon as we heard! Are you okay?" Ginny asks in a desperate voice.
Harry feels a small part of him melt with relief. They had come to save him. Another part of him feels sick with guilt that he needed rescuing in the first place.
"Harry!" Albus exclaims pulling Harry down into a warm hug his long black beard tickling his skin.
"How that school of yours failed to provide you with the most basic protections against the press is disgraceful,"
Like sharks sensing blood in the water, the reporters jump on Albus's statement, their hungry eyes turning to Harry.
"Harry, do you have any comments on the latest decision Dolores made regarding the nutrition standards of school lunches?" A lady with bottle blonde hair and glue on eyelashes asks thrusting a microphone into his face.
Harry opens his mouth to say no, feeling awkward and put on the spot, but Albus huffs with irritated ignition, "Of course he does, the boy is nothing but skin and bones from the lack of standards in those meals."
Albus settles a grandfatherly hand on Harry's back and gives him a slight shove forward. Harry clenches his teeth against his nerves as lights blind his eyes.
"Umm…" Harry says before he forces himself to begin speaking.
Harry looks around the cafeteria at his friends' doubtful faces. Fred had been giving him increasingly worrisome looks all day as if he thought Harry's rejection of Collin meant that he needed to try his hand at asking him out before someone else did. Harry was almost glad for the distraction of his friends' disbelief.
"I'm telling you, it was Draco Cullen who pushed me out of the way! Collin's van was going to crush me." Harry says.
"Harry, man, we were all there," Ron says through a mouthful of food. "I didn't see anyone push you. The van just...stopped somehow."
Hermione nods in agreement. "It was very strange how it seemed to almost...bounce off an invisible force field or something."
"That's because it all happened so fast!" Harry insists. "One second I was staring at the van, the next thing I was on the ground several feet away. And Draco Cullen was right there holding me."
Harry blushes as he remembers the cool heat of Draco's skin and the soft murmur of his voice when he makes sure Harry is okay. Fred seems to notice and raises an eyebrow,
"You really think Draco would do something that selfless for you? Didn't you say he barely tolerates you in class?"
Harry frowns as he thinks about it.
"When he's not trying to ask him out!" Ron crows and Harry glares at him.
"He never tried to ask me out," Harry says as he sees a hint of jealousy on Fred's face.
"What do you think that little game with the apples was? He was yanking your pigtails in hopes you would take the bait." Ron says with a knowing smile.
"He must have noticed that Harry was hungry. Harry did say that Draco took him out for dinner after the hospital," Hermione says in annoyance.
"He took you out to dinner?" Fred says jumping on the one detail Harry hoped to avoid mentioning for this exact reason.
"I just don't remember seeing anyone else near you except the people who ran over to help," Neville says sceptically with a furrowed brow, bringing the conversation back into focus.
"But he was there! Right next to me! He's the one who shoved me out of harm's way!"
Harry is starting to feel exasperated that no one believes him.
Hermione looks hesitant as she answers, "He must have only been a few cars down from you to get to you so much faster than everyone else and have time to climb over those cars. It's a good thing to because you looked so out of it when I finally got to you, Harry."
Slumping his shoulders, he pushes back his frustration, Hermione is a least getting the main point of his entire speech.
"I'm telling you, he's the real hero here," Harry says.
The others exchange uncertain looks. Hermione pats Harry's arm sympathetically.
"Look, we're not saying we don't believe you. Maybe you did see someone in that split second. But are you sure you didn't just...imagine it in the panic of the moment?"
Harry opens his mouth to protest but stops short as his eyes land on Draco Cullen entering the cafeteria with his adopted siblings. For a brief moment, their eyes meet and Harry swears Draco gives him a ghost of a wink.
Harry slides into his seat for Chemistry, still feeling shaken by the barrage of people who wanted him to assure them that he was okay. Cedric immediately turns to him eagerly,
"Harry! Thank God you're alright! Collin looked like a wreck when I visited him, I was worried you would look so much worse."
Harry grimaces at the mention of Collin, his blood boiling at the audacity of his display earlier.
"Yeah, it was really lucky how it just...stopped before crashing into you," Cedric says, looking perplexed.
"That's because someone pushed me out of the way at the last second," Harry insists. He looked pointedly at Draco's empty seat.
Cedric follows his gaze with a doubtful look, "You mean Draco saved you? That's not what everyone else is saying, but I was sick that day so I can't say for sure."
"Of course they are, it happened too fast for anyone to notice," Harry replies, a little annoyed even Cedric didn't believe him. "But I'm telling you, it was Draco Cullen. He shoved me out of the van's path right before impact."
Cedric's eyes go wide. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Harry says firmly. "I was right next to him after he pushed me to the ground."
Cedric still looks unsure.
"That doesn't make any sense. Why would he randomly save you like that? I thought he couldn't stand being around any of us 'normal' people."
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Harry admits with a frown.
Cedric shakes his head. "Well, whatever happened, I'm just glad you made it out okay, Harry. You had the whole school going mental worrying about you."
As the teacher started the lesson, Harry couldn't help but run through the series of events again in his mind. He knew what he saw - Draco Cullen had definitely travelled from the other side of the parking lot and pushed Harry to safety.
The question was...how and why? What is Draco's secret, and what compelled him to use it to save Harry's life?
Draco sits down on the lab stool next to Potter and isn't surprised when the assault of questions begins from the students around them all wanting to know if Potter is okay after the crash. Potter's been experiencing the celebrity treatment all day, strutting around like a brave war survivor. His two sidekicks sticking close to him like human shields. Potter keeps faking modesty as if Draco is the one everyone should be concerned with, but Draco knows it was all a ploy to make people think he was so sweet and thoughtful not worrying about himself. A quick dive into the heads of everyone Potter talks to show how effective Potter's devious plan is. Draco's jealous he never thought to use it at Hogwarts when he was younger and had fewer pressing problems.
He watches Potter squirm under the intense scrutiny, and a part of him wants to reach out and tell them all to back off, if only for a little peace for himself. But Draco doesn't. Instead, he busies himself with setting up their Chemistry experiment, meticulously measuring each substance, his movements precise and controlled. Despite the silence between them, Draco can feel the tension radiating off Potter. It makes no sense, that Potter loves the spotlight, it's why he constantly threw himself into it during their childhood.
Potter finally manages to stammer out a response to the last of the questions in typical Potter fashion, and Draco sneers at the pathetic pitter-patter of his heart. Draco feels surprised at how badly Potter holds himself together under pressure after he's fought dragons and defeated the Dark Lord. The one thing Potter fails at Draco excels at having received training in how to handle the public and media from a young age.
As they work on the experiment, Potter's hands tremble slightly, and Draco smirks at the show of vulnerability wanting to mock him for it. But Draco pushes down the urge, not wanting to tempt himself into starting a long conversation. The silence stretches between them, broken only by the occasional clink of glassware or the Potter's soft breathing. That is until Potter shatters it.
"Draco, about last week-"
"You have quite the nerve you know," Draco says interrupting him.
Potter gapes at him looking confused.
"What?" he asks his large green eyes blown wide.
"You seem to be under the impression that I put myself in danger to save your life, but you've yet to thank me for it."
Potter wears an expression of innocent shock.
"-Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Draco-" Potter starts again.
"You need to get over this desire to think everything is about you, Potter. I know your fans have been swarming you all day filling your head with all this nonsense that you matter, but don't you think you have been taking up enough of everyone's time?"
For a moment Potter looks like he is going to fall apart, but then a stormy expression crosses his face, and he turns back to the worksheet he is writing on. Draco's mouth quirks into a smile as he adds a few drops of the phenolphthalein indicator to the Erlenmeyer flask of vinegar. His job is done.
Harry's initial gratitude for Draco's continued silence quickly turns to frustration as the weeks drag on without any progress in uncovering his secret. Despite still attending school and maintaining the facade of a normal student, Draco remains closed off and distant, only exchanging a few words with Harry here and there. Yet even these brief interactions offer no insight into what he may be hiding. In class, Draco sits beside Harry, but their once-heated exchanges have been replaced by icy glances and sullen silences. It's almost a relief from the constant taunting and teasing, but Harry can't help but feel unsettled by the sudden coldness between them. He longs for even a hint of friendliness from Draco, but every attempt at conversation is met with curt responses and dismissive gestures. As they finish their Chemistry assignment early one day, Harry musters up the courage to speak to him, only to be shut down again and again with one or two-word answers.
"What are you doing this weekend?"
"Hiking."
"Where?"
"Elk Creek"
"Is that your family's favorite place to hike?"
"Yes."
"What are you reading?"
"Paradise Lost,"
"Are you enjoying it so far?"
"Yes"
"What's it about?"
"The devil"
"..."
"What part are you at?"
"He's constructing Pandemonium."
"Still reading the same book I see."
A nod.
"I looked the book up last night and started reading it. It seems to center on Satan's constant search for God's attention and approval. Then moves to rebellion when he fails to get either."
A nod.
"I think it's really interesting how it is from Satan's perspective because by doing this Milton allows you to feel sympathy for the devil. I mean if God just paid a little more attention to him, he could have avoided this whole mess."
A smirk.
"Where are you now?"
"The Garden."
"First visit or second."
"First."
"Me too,"
"I got to the second visit to the garden where he chose the form of the snake. Or lizard I guess since he is condemned to slither on the earth after he falls so he must have had legs before. Or maybe he flew. What do you think, Draco?"
A shrug.
"I also think that the fallen angels should have sent someone less emotionally involved to speak to God's new creation. Satan was going to be discovered from the beginning because he was the one who cared enough about God to start an entire rebellion. If they picked someone else, then maybe they would have been able to tempt Eve sooner."
A sigh. A glance at a watch.
"Though I understand why he wanted to be the one to go. He must have wanted to be the first one to see the ones who replaced him, and it must have been hard to keep a mask up when he saw how well God treated them. Especially since God just started to get to know them. To shower them with all that goodwill from the get-go and only give the devil scraps after being his general for so long must have hurt."
A frown. Silence.
"He won't talk to me."
"I thought you would be relieved, man." Ron says through a mouthful of food.
Harry would be if he knew Draco's secret, but it is eating him alive not knowing how Draco saved his life that day.
"I am," Harry lies instead, "I just want to know why he stopped talking to me. It seems like it could be important."
Hermione frowns at him, "It is not healthy to obsess over someone like that Harry. Live and let be as my parents say."
Ron smirks at Hermione, "Oh so is that why you staked outside Roger Clemmons house all night until he agreed to let you interview him about his job at the recycling plant for the school paper?"
"But I am the editor! I need to make sacrifices of my time in order to inform the public. The world deserves to know that recycling is nothing more than Green Marketing pushed by big corporations to pull the wool over our eyes about our wasteful production processes," Hermione says in an imperious voice, sounding like she is holding a press conference in front of a bunch of flashing cameras versus some bored high school kids.
"Save it for the articles, Herm," Fred says as he slides into a seat next to Harry, throwing a causal arm around him.
Or at least Harry hopes it's casual. Collin on the other side of the cafeteria glares at Fred with clear envy in his eyes as he pouts at a table by himself. Without his permission Harry finds his eyes gliding over to the Cullen table where Draco sits laughing with his siblings. He never so much as glances at Harry during the entire lunch hour. Or in Chemistry. Or in Gym.
Harry is pulling his Firebolt out of the parking space after class when Draco pulls his Volvo right in front of him and parks at a sideways angle preventing him from safely swerving around him, and locking him in. In his rearview mirror, he sees Fred approaching him and he removes his helmet and pastes on his friendliest smile when all he wants to do is rear-end Draco's car.
"I'm sorry Fred, Draco's blocking me in," Harry says as Fred comes within earshot.
"Oh, no, Harry this is perfect actually, I wanted to ask you a question."
"Okay…" Harry says not liking where this is going.
"I was wondering Harry, if you would be my date to the dance?" Fred asks his face full of nervous anticipation.
Harry stares at him wondering how Fred missed the news broadcast this morning or the gossip in the hallways that followed him like a phantom all day. Maybe Fred is above all that nonsense drama and didn't pay attention to it, Harry thinks feeling hopeful.
"I am going to Seattle that day, so I won't be able to attend,"
Fred's faces falls in surprise, "I thought that was just a lie you told Colin to let him down easy,"
Harry feels his hope disappear, frustration taking it's place.
"No, it wasn't a lie, I'm really not going to the dance with anyone," Harry says through clenched teeth.
Fred rallies his face lifting up in a slight smile, as he darts forward and presses a kiss onto Harry's cheek.
"Well there is always Prom," Fred whispers before he pulls away.
Harry stares after him in shock missing, Draco's siblings sliding into the Volvo in front of him. He is brought back to life when he hears Draco gunning the engine and pulling away, his laughing face reflected in his mirror.
Draco lounges back on the tree branch he rests on thankful for his body's ability to be comfortable on any surface or position for an infinite amount of time. Even in the pouring rain and buffeting wind.
It's been two weeks, and the sounds Potter makes are still the most fascinating part of his vigils. Occasionally Potter even mutters queer phrases like 'too green' or 'too wet' and Draco recalls Potter and Diggory's first conversation about the weather. What the story feels Draco needs to 'guard' Potter against he has no idea, but the lack of danger doesn't stop the presence from dragging him to Potter's side every night since the 'accident'.
Potter's restless whimpers break the stillness of the dark room, causing Draco to whip his head towards him. With sharp eyes accustomed to searching for any hint of danger, Draco scans Potter's pale and scrunching face. He notices tears gathering at the corners of Potter's eyes as the dark-haired boy shifts awkwardly in his sleep, one leg hanging off the bed as if ready to lunge forward at any moment. The tension in the room is palpable as Draco wonders what could be causing Potter such unrest.
Potter turns over again this time whimpering the name Sirius, his brow furrowed with distress. Draco freezes holding in his unnecessary breath as he hears his exiled cousins name fall out of the saviours lips. Though in this world he is not exiled Draco thinks.
"Sirius," Potter says again this time a hint of desperation in his voice.
Potter tangles with the sheets on his bed trapped in his dream, his hand reaching out to grab something or pull someone back. Draco narrows his eyes as he watches Potter's grasping fingers, claw through the empty air and the tears trail down Potter's face. Draco starts to creep towards the window to do, what he doesn't know, but then he stops himself. He frowns at the strange tugging sensation in his gut that tells him to feel something at the pathetic display in front of him.
"Don't go." Potter breathes, his hand falling limp at his side, the muscles in his face slumping down.
Potter misses his dead godfather, Draco thinks. Though not dead in this life. Draco wonders which would hurt more. To be abandoned by the dead or the living. Then shakes his head at the ridiculous, useless thought.
"This place is nice," Cedric says sipping at his water.
Harry gives him a tentative smile as Madame Rosmerta comes to take their orders.
"Where do you find all these adorable boys and where can I get my own?" Rosmerta says giving Cedric a wink.
Harry blushes. Cedric asked him to grab dinner with him after ballet practice and Harry starving from skipping lunch earlier to save money agreed. Cedric wanted Harry to pick so he of course picked Tête de Porc.
"Should I be jealous that you took other boys here?" Cedric asks with a teasing smile.
"Oh, does he not know he has competition?" Madame Rosmerta says with a devilish expression, playing along.
Harry feels panic creeping up his spine as he sputters, "I-t was just Draco."
Cedric chokes on his next sip of water, and Madame Rosmerta looks at him in concern.
"You brought that asshole here?" Cedric asks looking at Harry indignantly.
"It was after he saved my life before he stopped talking to me," Harry says quickly, in a low voice, feeling his heart sink in his chest.
Cedric's expression softens as he reaches across the table and squeezes Harry's hand.
"I will never do that to you, Harry. How he is treating you is cruel," Cedric says his eyes glowing with passion.
"How touching, I almost felt, my heart flutter in my chest," a voice drawls from next to Harry and he feels himself freeze.
"What are you doing here, Draco," Cedric growls, drawing his hand back into a fist.
"Astoria and I have been waiting forever for some service, so if you could order sometime tonight that would be fabulous," Draco says in an impatient voice his nostrils flared as if he smells something unpleasant.
His eyes fall to Harry's abandoned hand, where the sleeve of his light jacket has ridden up enough to reveal the top part of the healing cut Dudley gave him this weekend. Without meeting his eyes Harry causally pushes the sleeve back with a slide of his wrist before Cedric notices it. He focuses his gaze on Astoria Mallory. Standing next to Draco, she appears like a vision of pure beauty. Her white, blonde hair cascades down her back in perfect waves and her pale blue eyes sparkle with happiness. They look like a perfectly matched pair. A strange emotion stirs within Harry, almost like anger.
"It would be my pleasure," Cedric grinds out.
Cedric turns to Madame Rosmerta with a look of confidence as he orders two of the fanciest things off of the menu, "I will have the Duck Bourguignon and Harry will have the Salmon Quenelles."
Draco smirks as he watches Potter's nervous fingers twist the paper napkin in his lap and Madame Rosmerta frowns in disappointment.
"Harry prefers simple food like the cured deer Croque Madame Confiture," Draco says in a self-satisfied voice, "Don't you, Harry?"
Harry feels a jolt go through him as Draco uses his first name for the first time, but quickly ignores it. An embarrassed expression crawls across Cedric's face as he turns red and Harry feels his anger explode in protective fury.
"I think the Salmon Quenelles sound perfect," Harry says through clenched teeth.
Madame Rosmerta looks unsure as she writes it down, knowing Harry's hatred of the sea, but he'll be damned if he lets Draco win this round.
Draco smiles like a shark as he says," Enjoy your date, Harry, it seems like he knows you well."
"I will," Harry growls not bothering to correct him on it being a date.
Draco notices, a scowl taking over his face as he stalks away, Astoria following behind him with a confused look on her face.
"What an ass," Harry spits out his fingers clawing at the wood grain of the table, watching as Draco settles into the furthest table away from theirs, giving his full attention to Astoria.
Cedric smiles softly as he leans forward his hand catching Harry's again in a warm embrace. His thumb rubs in gentle circles into his skin, making heat pool in Harry's stomach as he meets his calming grey eyes.
"Let's not talk about him anymore," Cedric says in a warm voice, "I'm more interested in hearing about you,"
Harry smiles leaning forward as well, "What would you like to know?"
They spend the next few minutes talking about what their childhoods were like and their interests and hobbies. Cedric tells him about his dotting father who supported his sexuality and cheered him on at all of his ballet recitals. He elaborates on the summers they spent in South Korea visiting his mother's family and how he wants to travel to other countries when he graduates. With passionate eyes, he explains his aspiration to be a cancer research doctor and find a cure for Adrenal cortex carcinoma, the disease that killed his mother. Harry feels directionless in comparison. He skims over his childhood with the Dursleys, moving quickly onto his time with Sirius.
"He let you ride a motorcycle at fourteen by yourself?" Cedric asks with wide eyes, looking at the scars on Harry's t-shirt-exposed arms as if they have new meaning.
Harry curses himself for slipping up and forgetting that Sirius's parenting style is a little more laissez-faire than most. He just feels so comfortable around Cedric that for a moment he forgets that he couldn't tell him everything.
"I was about to turn fifteen. He had just gotten out of jail, and he felt bad that he missed so many of my firsts. He wanted to teach me something new, that no one else had," Harry says in a lighthearted voice he uses when talking about Sirius's little misadventures.
Madame Rosmerta comes in before Cedric can reply and places their food in front of them. Harry mentally sighs in relief when he sees the light brown color of the dumplings and the white color of the sauce. Cedric looks at Harry's plate in confusion.
"I'm sorry, dear but I couldn't waste the salmon and prawns," Madame Rosmerta whispers to him, "This is what Aberforth was able to come up with as a substitute."
Across the room Draco sniggers at something Astoria says.
"Of course," Harry says happily popping one of the salal berries sprinkled on top into his mouth.
It breaks apart in a bright burst of flavor, complimenting the creamy taste of the venison Quenelles and the bechamel sauce. Harry groans as his hunger dissolves and continues to eat. His eyes wander to the other side of the room where Madame Rosmerta places a Duck Confit in front of Astoria and then a cup of the same thimbleberry juice that she surprised Draco with last time, in front of him. A glowing smile lights up Draco's face in thanks as he takes his first sip, tilting his head back, seeming to savor the taste in his mouth.
"Harry…?" Cedric asks.
Harry whips his gaze back to him.
"I'm sorry did you ask me something?" Harry asks with an embarrassed look.
Cedric gives him a reassuring smile.
"I was going to ask you if you were enjoying your food, but you have already cleaned your plate, so I think that question was answered."
"It was delicious," Harry says a little evasively resisting the urge to glance back at Draco.
"I noticed it looked a little different than I expected," Cedric says, his tone questioning.
"Yeah, it's venison and bechamel sauce."
"Oh, Harry I'm sorry I didn't realize you didn't like salmon."
Harry gives him a small smile.
"It's not just salmon it's all large bodies of water and everything that comes from them. They just give me the creeps. Sirius found out the hard way that I hate going to aquariums or the beach," Harry says with a shudder, "It's not your fault anyways I didn't say anything because of Draco. It felt like it would be letting him win."
"I know the feeling," Cedric says with a chuckle, "But what do you mean gives you the creeps? Is it the eyes and the slimy feeling?"
Harry feels nervous as he tries to explain his aversion to water. He frowns, racking his brain.
"I...I'm not sure, actually. There's just something about it that rubs me the wrong way." He stares down at his empty plate, feeling a strange sense of unease wash over him.
Flashes of memory flicker through his mind's eye - a vast, dark expanse of water...ghostly figures drifting beneath the surface...screams and splashes as he fought against something slimy and scaly, struggling to breathe...
Harry shivers, the fork clattering onto his plate. "You know, now that I think about it...I think I almost drowned once. In a lake or something. With...with these weird things..."
Cedric's eyes widen. "Seriously? When was this?"
"I don't know," Harry admits, rubbing his temples.
The fragmented memories are quickly fading, slipping through his fingers like water.
"It's all kind of a blur. But I remember being terrified, fighting against these...these things in the water. Maybe that's why I've never liked fish since."
He let out a breathless laugh, trying to shake off the unnerving recollection. A part of his mind feels like there is something deeper there, some wider context he is missing. But the details remain maddeningly out of reach.
"Well, we'd better stay away from lakes then," Cedric jokes, though his expression was tinged with concern. "How about we get you some dessert to take your mind off of it?"
Harry nods gratefully, pushing the thought of fish aside. As he smiles at Cedric, the lingering wisps of the mysterious memory drift away.
Draco parks the car outside of Tête de Porc and holds the car door open for Astoria like the true gentleman he is. He doubts that Diggory did such a thing for Potter. Potter's nervous voice and Diggory's annoying thoughts float his way out of the restaurant.
"I-t was just Draco,"
The flustered, blushing way Harry tries to cover for "just Draco" coming here with him makes something twist in Draco's chest. So, Potter still thinks about that time, does he?
"I will never do that to you, Harry. How he is treating you is cruel,"
As Draco enters, he spots Potter sitting across from that oaf Cedric Diggory. What over-the-top frippery, Draco thinks, in a blind rage as he stomps over to their table. If Diggory wants to paint him as the villain with his sanctimonious drivel about cruelty, he is happy to oblige.
"How touching, I almost felt, my heart flutter in my chest," Draco drawls putting a hand to his chest to reflect the same dramatics that Diggory just used.
"What are you doing here, Draco," Diggory growls, like a puppy.
"Astoria and I have been waiting forever for some service, so if you could order sometime tonight that would be fabulous." Draco sneers.
"It would be my pleasure," Diggory grounds out putting on a show for his date, but inside Draco knows he is an insecure nervous mess.
Draco sneers as Diggory scans the menu looking for the most over-the-top dishes to impress Harry with his knowledge of fine cuisine and seemingly put Draco in his place. Do you even know the person across from you, Draco wants to ask.
Diggory turns to Madame Rosmerta with a look of fake confidence as he orders two of what he thinks are the fanciest things off of the menu, "I will have the Duck Bourguignon and Harry will have the Salmon Quenelles."
Draco smirks watching Potter's nervous fingers twist the paper napkin in his lap and Madame Rosmerta frowns in disappointment. Though her reasoning behind her disappointment surprises Draco despite all of his watching of Potter in the Great Hall he never knew Potter didn't like fish.
"Harry prefers simple food like the cured deer Croque Madame Confiture," Draco says in a self-satisfied voice knowing it would be too strange if he guessed Potter's fish phobia, "Don't you, Harry?"
Potter heats up prettily under Draco's attentions and Draco's mouth waters at the sight.
"I think the Salmon Quenelles sound perfect," Potter growls through clenched teeth, ever the stubborn arse.
Madame Rosmerta looks unsure as she writes it down, thinking about the wasted fish and how she could convince Aberforth to go through with the order, despite it.
Draco smiles like a shark as he says," Enjoy your date, Harry, it seems like he knows you well."
"I will," Potter growls his eyes already going back to Diggory.
Draco scowls as he stalks away, Astoria following behind him with a confused look on her face, not understanding his little interaction with Potter. Draco resigns himself to a night to pretending to be attracted to her.
Throughout the interminable wait for their food, Astoria prattles on about Watership Down, but Draco barely registers her words as his gaze is transfixed on the Boy Who Lived to Vex Him. That messy black hair, those bright green eyes - it's like a beacon drawing him in against his will. The way Potter would bashfully smile at Diggory's flattery makes something ugly twist in his gut. What is this feeling? One not worth pursuing obviously he thinks dismissively.
Rosmerta places a plate of Duck Confit in front of Astoria and a glass of flavoured venison blood in front of Draco. He licks his lips remembering how much superior it is to the ilk Severus gave him that first week. He takes a drink and suppresses his groan. It's even better than he remembered.
"My compliments to the chef," Draco says raising the glass to her.
A knowing smile stretches over Rosmerta's golden face, making him wonder how much she knows.
When Potter's eyes drift over and meet his, Draco quickly looks away, refocusing on giving Astoria his full attention. He catches Harry staring at him a few times throughout the night, a contemplative crease between his ridiculously expressive eyebrows. Draco longs to invade his mind, but as usual, he can get into any mind but the one he wants. He contents himself with listening to their conversation, not surprised when Potter mentions having trauma concerning water. He overheard Potter telling his two shadows about almost drowning during the second task. Even if he hadn't seen the look on Potter's face when came out of the water, then. He could see how much the memory affected him now.
He looked shattered.
Harry smiles at Cedric as he holds open the door for him. He still wonders what Draco and Aberforth talked about when he lingered at Draco's table. They seemed to only engage in casual conversation, but Harry saw Aberforth laugh in a way he rarely saw except when Sirius came to visit him. Astoria seemed to hang onto every word out of Draco's mouth as she sat across from him. He has a sinking feeling they were meeting for a date, but he isn't sure why he cares. Draco can go out with whoever he wants as long as it is not Harry.
"Harry, are you in there?" Cedric asks waving his hand in front of Harry's face.
Harry meets Cedric's eyes and jolts back at the blank, dead look in them, all the seemingly blood drained from his face. He blinks rapidly and Cedric's smile face reappears. Cedric chuckles at the expression on his face.
"You look like just saw a ghost," he says.
Harry shakes his head as he gives him a tight smile, brushing it off as nerves. Draco a couple of cars down, gives him a curious look, as if he hears them.
"Nah, just tired," he says.
"Well, let's get you home then," Cedric says kindly.
Harry nods as he lets Cedric open his door for him.
In the dead of night, Harry's dreams of inky black waters and suffocating darkness pressing from all sides against his skin. His hands are transformed into webbed claws, and monstrous mermaids armed with spears hunt him mercilessly. He desperately swims away, Ron and a strange, blonde girl floating behind him like lifeless specimens trapped in a jar. The more he struggles to escape, the tighter his chest constricts until every breath is a painful gasp for air.
As Harry fights against the crushing pressure of the water, a cold hand clamps down on his foot. He thrashes desperately, trying to break free from the grip that feels like solid stone. A glimpse downward reveals the smirking face of, Draco Malfoy, his sharp fangs glinting in the murky darkness. Panic sets in as Harry watches helplessly as Malfoy twists his ankle towards his mouth and bites down. Bubbles swirl around him as he screams, choking on the blood-clotted water.