It took Harry hours and hours to fall asleep that night. His mind was torn in different directions, never quietening enough for him to sleep. He bounced between worrying that Sirius's use of the floo network had been noticed, fury at his godfather's hubris, and regret for how they had ended their conversation. He finally dropped off sometime around five, and so slept through the alarms of his dorm mates, and only woke up when Ron shook him gently.
"You coming mate?" Harry peered blearily up at his fully dressed friend, "It's nearly eight,"
Harry cursed under his breath, scrambling out of bed and waving Ron away, "Go without me - I won't be long," Ron left reluctantly, still looking over his shoulder as he pulled the door shut behind him.
Harry got dressed as quickly as he possibly could, pulling his shirt over his shoulders while he brushed his teeth, and toeing his shoes on while he slipped a belt through the loops of his trousers.
By the time he arrived for breakfast, the Great Hall was the busiest Harry had seen it in a long time, having normally been there significantly earlier. There was almost no space at the table for him; seeing his approach, Draco elbowed the student to his right and encouraged them to shuffle down the bench. Harry froze for a moment, his eyes flicking between the false lightness to Ron and Hermione's expressions, and the barely suppressed thunderous quality to Draco's. He unstuck himself and sat himself down heavily.
"They told you about last night," he said flatly.
"They did," Draco said, his tone mirroring Harry's, "He's a child," ice crept into his voice, "and he needs a minder,"
Harry snorted, picking at a slice of bacon with his fingers, "He needs to have the fireplace boarded up,"
"He's behaving very recklessly," Hermione added quietly.
"He must be going mental stuck in that house though - I know I would be," Harry felt faintly annoyed at Ron's sympathetic view, and he had to remind himself that, as a teenager, Ron's perspective might not be quite the same.
"If I have to suck it up and go to the Dursley's for the greater good - or whatever bullshit reason Dumbledore keeps coming up with to persuade everyone it's a grand idea," Ron and Hermione exchanged looks at his harsh tone, "than the least that Sirius can do, as an adult, is cope with staying inside. Bearing in mind, he's still seeing people who actually like him on a regular basis," he added with a scoff.
"Lupin is living there too," Draco reminded them, "he's not alone, he just can't leave,"
"I guess," Ron mumbled.
"You still think we're doing the right thing, don't you?" Hermione said suddenly, her eyes darting between Harry and Draco, "With the DA? It's just - knowing that Siriusthinks it's a good idea, is making me worry that it isn't actually a good idea,"
"It's a good idea, Granger," Draco said firmly, "Just because he agrees doesn't automatically make it bad - though I can see why you might think that," he added under his breath.
Hermione nodded slowly, her expression still contemplative and unsure, "Come on," she said eventually, "We need to go to class - we'll see you in Potions, Draco,"
"Wait," Draco's fingers caught Harry's wrist before he could leave, "you haven't eaten," he said with a frown, transfiguring a napkin into silver foil, and using it to enclose a hastily made bacon sandwich.
"Will Binns let you eat in class?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
"The man hasn't noticed he's dead Hermione," Ron said with a scoff, "I'm fairly certain he won't spot Harry eating a bacon sarnie,"
"Thanks," Harry said, accepting the sandwich with a resigned smile.
Draco squeezed his wrist for a moment, "Black's an idiot," he said firmly, "you did nothing wrong," Harry nodded, and reluctantly stepped away from the table to follow Ron and Hermione out of the hall, "I'll see you later."
As Ron had predicted, Professor Binns didn't notice that he was eating a bacon sandwich in his class. He did notice, however, when Harry screwed up his tin foil and threw it across the classroom and into the bin by the door. He did little more than blink owlishly at the bin though, before recovering and resuming his usual droning lecture.
For a change, Harry didn't simply close his eyes and enjoy a quick morning nap. Instead, he pulled a quill and a roll of parchment from his bag and set to work. Ron looked over at him like he was questioning his sanity, until his eyes caught what Harry was actually writing, and his mouth opened into an 'oh' of comprehension.
By the end of the class, Harry had written the first draft of what he felt would eventually be a rather compelling curriculum for the rest of the year's DA lessons - or until they were caught and disbanded at least (which he was beginning to think may be a forgone conclusion - there was no way Edgecomb wouldn't blab).
During Potions, Harry surreptitiously showed Draco what he had written so far under their desk. Draco's eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing in concentration.
"This is good," he murmured, "was this all off the top of your head? You sure you don't fancy being a Hogwarts Professor when all of this is done?"
Harry chuckled, "Yes to the first question, and no to the second - not until I'm old and grey at least," he added teasingly, though his chest tightened briefly - he'd be lying if he said he thought he would live to see old age.
"Silence," at the Potions Professor's hissed command, Harry slipped the parchment back into his bag, and turned his attention to the front of the class.
After lunch (during which Draco, Blaise, Pansy, and strangely Luna, had sat with them), Harry returned to the dormitories and, to his delight, finally had a breakthrough with his wandless nonverbal magic. Channeling his frustration and annoyance from Sunday evening, Harry managed to successfully cast depulso on one of Neville's shoes.
Unfortunately, Harry had managed to launch it cleanly through the dormitory window, and down the side of the tower. He tried to peer out of the hole to see where it had gone, but with the shoe out of sight, Harry was unwilling to risk a hole in the wall by summoning it. Instead, he repaired the window, and hoped that Neville would blame the shoe's loss on his forgetful nature.
Leaving his bag in the dormitory, Harry only took his wand and the textbook with him to Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was one of the last to arrive and was surprised to find the class was somehow more silent than usual. Glancing to the front, the reason why was immediately obvious. Where he had expected the find Umbridge, instead Peeves was sat, dressed head to toe in pink, including a pair of Umbridge's heels, with his hands steepled under his chin.
"Hem hem, Mister Potty," Peeves said in a terrible imitation of the Defence Professor, "Take your seat please - we must commence with the lesson!"
"Let me out this instance! "
Harry jumped slightly where he stood, and looked around at the muffled voice, before he noticed that the entire class was looking at a wardrobe at the back of the room. A chair had been wedged between the wardrobes handles and the floor, keeping the doors shut tight.
"Mister Potty," Peeves said again, a dangerous sweet smile on his face, "I shan't ask again,"
Harry unstuck his feet, and took a seat next to a grinning Ron, and a conflicted Hermione.
" Can anyone here me!? " Umbridge cried from within the wardrobe, her voice slightly hysterical.
"Now class," simpered Peeves, "today we shall be reading from Chapter four of your textbooks," he grinned nastily for a moment, "There shall be no need to TALK!!" on the final word of his sentence, Peeves lobbed the textbook in front of him through the air, and it collided with the wardrobe with a loud bang. Harry could have sworn he heard a muffled whimper.
"Shouldn't we do something?" Hermione whispered urgently.
"Not a chance," Ron chortled under his breath.
"We'll tell Flitwick, Hermione," Harry reassured her quietly as he turned obediently to chapter four; he interrupted her sigh of relief when he added, "at the end of the class that is," she pursed her lips, "we need her gone Mione'," he reminded her in a whisper. She thought for a moment, and then nodded.
She turned resolutely to her book and joined the rest of the class in ignoring Umbridge's increasingly hysterical cries for help.
Despite the assertions from the group that they wanted to meet up more than once a week, it had ended up being impossible to organise the next meeting any sooner than the next coming Monday, as Angelina had become especially militant about their Quidditch practices in anticipation of their first match of the season at the beginning of November.
"I just don't understand prioritising a sport over learning to defend your life, and pass your OWLs," Hermione had said hotly at dinner, "though it has given me time to figure out how we're going to communicate the time and date of meetings,"
"How?" asked Ginny curiously, turning away from Blaise for the first time that meal (Harry couldn't be sure if they were actually speaking to one another, or rather just exchanging smouldering looks).
With a grin, Hermione fished a gold galleon out of her pocket, "I've charmed fake galleons so that when Harry changes the date and time on his galleon, they all change to match, and heat up so you know to check them,"
"Can I see?" Draco asked, and Hermione passed the coin to him; he held it up to the light and twisted it this way and that.
"I figured that even if we were asked to empty our pockets, there's nothing suspicious about us having a galleon. We just need to make sure we don't accidentally spend them,"
Draco chuckled, "Oh defiantly not - pretty sure the goblins would be out for your blood if they found out you were making counterfeit galleons. These are amazing!"
Hermione flushed, a pleased smile on her face, "You might as well keep that one - here," she searched through her pockets, and removed seven more, passing one to Ron, Ginny, Blaise, and finally Harry, "Will you give Pansy hers? And maybe the Greengrass sisters?" she said to Draco, who hesitated, before accepting the coins with a nod.
"I'll give them all to Pansy - she knows Daphne better than me,"
"I'll give the rest out in the Room tomorrow - it'll look suspicious if I run around handing out galleons to everyone," said Hermione, and Harry nodded, inspecting the surface of his coin with fond eyes, surprised by the nostalgia they inspired.
The following evening, Harry scoffed his dinner as quickly as he could, and disappeared up to the Room of Requirement before Ron and Hermione had even sat down to eat. He wanted to be prepared.
Entering the Room of Requirement, he strode to the blackboard with purpose. He laid out the roll of parchment he had written the details of his lesson plan on, and with a flick of his wand, the chalk jumped to attention. With another flick of his wand, it began to dance smartly across the board, copying up a significantly neater version of his plans for the year. When he got towards April, he hesitated, and stopped. He could play it off as planning for revision if anyone asked, but he wasn't about to plan for classes he weren't confident would actually happen.
Satisfied with his curriculum, Harry turned his attention to the larger hall behind him, and the training dummies pressed flush against the wall. He pointed his wand at the dummy at the end, and it straightened from its limp leaning posture, and wheeled itself forward a foot, ready and willing. He repeated the process again and again, until every dummy was rocking gently on its wheels.
He didn't hear when the Room's door opened, and so jumped when a voice suddenly spoke from behind him.
"Hey,"
"M-Merlin Draco!" Harry cried, a hand pressed to his chest as he twisted round to face the other, "Warn a man!" Harry expected a grin, but instead he received a concerned frown.
"You weren't at dinner,"
"No - I wanted to come here early and get everything ready. I finalised my lesson plans on the board, look,"
Draco didn't follow him towards the classroom, but instead watched him, his frown still in place and his lips pursed. He hesitated before glancing at his watch, "It's only half five - we could quickly run and get you something to eat before we start," he said, not quite masking his anxious tone. Ah.
"Oh - don't worry, I ate before I came up," the effect was instantaneous; Draco relaxed, and turned to follow Harry to the blackboard, eying it curiously.
"I thought you wanted to teach them a shield charm next?"
Harry shrugged, "I think, learning wise, they come hand in hand with the basic combat cast. It's good to practice them together, and I think teaching them the combat jinx will be more difficult. I'd rather start now. I'm presuming you can cast it?"
Draco nodded, "I had a shit instructor though, so it took me ages," he said, "kept telling me to 'feel it in my gut'," Draco rolled his eyes, "I've never been very good at relating magic to parts of my body, so it didn't exactly work. Especially as there's no incantation either,"
"What did work?" Harry probed.
"I made up an incantation to focus on," Draco admitted with a reluctant smirk, "Though I maybe wouldn't teach the kids to chant 'fuck you' in their heads when they're trying it," Harry let out a bark of laughter, "it was a hard habit to break - it meant I could only cast it as quickly as I could say 'fuck you' in my head,"
Harry nodded, still grinning, "I can imagine Hermione's face if we suggested it," they were interrupted by Ron and Hermione pushing the door open and entering; they were followed closely by a stream of other students, "Hi!" Harry offered them a wave, and Draco nodded at them.
"Do you think they'll get it in a single class?" Draco asked dubiously.
"Not at all," Harry said mildly, "but they need to start learning somewhere," they watched together as the group gradually trailed into the room, all of them with bright and excited faces (except perhaps Smith and Edgecombe); when the last of the stragglers had arrived, Harry addressed the room, "Right everybody, welcome back!" Harry cried, beckoning them closer to him, "We're not going to bother sitting down today - instead I want all of you to gather round me in a circle. Oh, uh, probably a bigger circle than that," he added when they immediately started to crowd him, "Back up, back up," Harry's eye caught Draco's as he stepped back into the rest of the group, and he flashed him a smile, "Right - is that everyone?" There was a murmur of agreement around the group, "Excellent! Now, two things before we begin. Firstly, Hermione has figured out a way for us to communicate when the meetings are going to be - she has fake galleons that will adjust to show the date and time of the next meeting.
"Secondly - on the backboard," all eyes followed Harry's finger when he pointed back to the classroom, "I've written my lesson plans leading up to April. Feel free to ignore it if you want, but it might be useful for those of you who wish to prepare in advance,"
"You're setting homework?" Zacharias Smith scoffed, and Harry had to take a deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Draco snarling at the Hufflepuff.
"No," Harry said cooly, "I'm not. It's there to be helpful. And if anyone wishes to speak, when I'm speaking, I'd appreciate a raised hand," this part was said less coldly, and was addressed to the group as a whole; more than one person nodded, "Now - today, as I have written on the board," Harry flicked his eyes over meaningfully to Smith, before continuing, "We're going to be practicing the shield charm, and learning how to cast the basic combat jinx. I'm not going to lie, I don't expect most of you to have mastered the combat bolt by the end of this class," he said frankly, "and that's why we're starting with it now - so we have an entire year to get it right.
"Right then - the most challenging aspect of the basic cast, is that it is nonverbal in nature. However, this is also one of its key advantages. Your opponent can't hear you coming and isn't forewarned that they need to defend themselves. Now, wordless magic - with no incantation to channel your magic, it can be an extremely difficult skill to master, but it is by no means impossible. Casting wordlessly, is about connecting with your magical core," Harry held his hand at his chest, "and how you achieve this will differ from person to person. For me, my magical core is that point of consciousness that I feel somewhere in the back of my mouth. If someone asked me, where I felt I lived in my body - that is where I would say. Hermione - where would you say you existed inside of your body?"
Hermione glanced about at her peers, looking unsure and reluctant to answer, "I, uh… here, I guess," she pressed a hand to her forehead.
"Ron?"
His friend looked equally alarmed and stumbled over an answer, "Probably my chest?"
"Draco?"
Grey met green, and there was a moment of silence before Draco answered, "Behind my eyes,"
"See, different for everyone!" Harry had to look away, quickly becoming flustered by their maintained eye contact, "To connect with your magical core, it is key to truly understand how you feel inside your own body. Some people do that by meditating and trying to feel everything, everywhere, all at once. But that kind of connection is many magnitudes higher than what's required to cast the combat bolt - for this, you need only dip into your core, and it will do the rest, until it is as natural as breathing.
"Now - I want you working three to a training dummy," with a sweep of his wand, the dummies obediently spread out across the room, "and I want you to practice not only trying to cast the basic combat jinx, but also any combative spell you can think of. Linking them together is often easier. The wand movement you're looking for, is a kind of sharp whipping motion," Harry drew his wand back, and snapped it forward again, an angry red bolt leaving his wand tip and colliding with the nearest dummy with a smack, making it rock back sharply, "if any of you feel confident to, try taking the place of your dummies and practicing your shield charm - start with sparks. Now, it's your turn."
As before, Draco didn't bother joining a group (an annoyed Pansy sneered at him as she was forced to join Blaise and Ginny), and instead he paced around the group with Harry, offering hints and tips, and correcting form and wand work. While the room started out in near complete silence, as everyone tried their hardest to cast without an incantation, people quickly took Harry's advice to practice any spell they fancied at the same time. Within ten minutes, the room was nearly deafeningly loud.
Harry watched with amusement as Ginny used a particularly strong bat-bogey-hex on the practice dummy, and little bat shaped splinters of wood tried to crawl their way out of the dummy's nose.
"I didn't know training dummies could do that," Draco said appraisingly, coming to a stop next to Harry.
"I'm not sure they can," Harry admitted, "maybe it's the room?" Draco only hmm'ed, "I bet there's some old ones that Umbridge has locked away - we can always find one and try,"
"You know what - I'm alright," Draco said dryly, "anyone had any luck with the basic cast?" Harry shook his head, "Are you really expecting them to?"
"They might surprise you," Harry said, before raising his voice to address the whole room, "Remember! You need to cast from your core - not from your hand. Think of your centre and focus on it. If it helps, try to visualise the path your core travels to get to the tip of your wand -,"
Harry was interrupted by a surprised gleeful shout; looking round, he found Susan Bones staring in amazement at the end of her wand.
"I did it!" she cried, an excited grin on her face.
"Well done - now the hard part is doing it every time. Keep it up guys, keep trying!"
By the end of the class left, five more students had managed to cast the combat bolt successfully: Hermione (obviously), Ginny, Daphne, Fred, and Angelina. Harry scooped up the whistle he had just been wishing for from a bookcase and blew it sharply three times. With the group listening, he spoke.
"Well done everyone - that was an amazing start. That's it for today though - please grab your fake galleon from Hermione on your way out, and I'll see you next time. If you get the opportunity before our next meeting, try and see if you can feel, and focus on your magical core. That's half the challenge to any nonverbal spell,"
Draco moved forwards with the rest of the group making their way to the door, but came to a stop in front of Harry, his arms crossed over his chest, "You're a better instructor than my teacher was," he said appraisingly.
Harry shrugged, "What works for one person, doesn't always work for another - the plan is to gradually filter through the group and find the students who need a different approach,"
Draco nodded, "Makes sense - anyway we better get a move on. Be curfew soon,"
Harry followed him out, and soon an excited Hermione fell into step with him.
"That was such an amazing lesson Harry! How do you know all of that? We've never been taught that in lessons," Harry didn't miss the slightly suspicious edge to her voice.
"Oh uh, me and Draco practiced a bit for the third task last year," he answered vaguely, and while Hermione dropped it, he could tell she wasn't truly satisfied.
As Harry had expected, Hermione wasn't quite prepared to let it go. Walking through the castle on their way to Care of Magical Creatures, she was full of questions.
"So where did you and Draco learn about performing nonverbal magic?" she prodded, her strides long as she fought to keep up with Harry's marching pace.
"Something Draco knew about," he said vaguely, "suppose it must be a pureblood thing to learn about stuff like that," he walked faster to try and escape her.
"Did you know about what Harry taught us last night?" Hermione asked, rounding on Ron abruptly.
"No," he answered defensively, "though it wouldn't surprise me if Malfoy had private tutors or something," he added.
"Does he have private tutors?" now Hermione's head flicked back to Harry, and Ron flashed him a bewildered look over the top of her head.
"I don't know Hermione," he couldn't help but snap back, "I don't know every detail of his life," her eyes narrowed at him as they passed through the double doors that lead outside to the castle steps. He spotted Draco and Pansy on the grass, most likely waiting for their arrival as had become their habit. Catching his eye, Draco flashed him a smile, which then faltered upon seeing Harry's flustered expression.
Hermione waited only until they were close enough that she didn't have to shout, before asking accusingly, "Did you have private tutors?" Harry really hoped he said yes.
"Uuh," said Draco, clearly startled by her sudden barked question, "Yes?" Oh, thank Merlin.
If anything though, Hermione seemed more annoyed, "Do lots of pureblood families have private tutors?" she turned her attention to Pansy, who offered her a disdainful sniff.
"Of course,"
Hermione was positively seething now, "I knew that purebloods had an unfair advantage over muggleborns!"
"Oh, come of it Granger," Draco said with a scoff, "if that were totally true, you wouldn't have been wiping the floor with the rest of the year our entire school life," this seemed to placate her somewhat, but Harry had had enough now. He couldn't cope with questions he had no reasonable answers for.
He strode forward, and took Draco by the arm, linking their arms together so he had no choice but to follow as Harry dragged him along, "Come on," he said grumpily, "we're going to be late,"
Draco only let himself be pulled along a few paces, before digging in his heels and saying, "Wait, wait, this is making me uncomfortable," a feeling like ice dropped in Harry's belly, and spread down his legs.
He glanced down to where Draco's arm was looped through his own; of course, he thought, he probably wouldn't walk with a friend like this either - maybe Hermione, but certainly not Ron. He didn't complain, therefore, when Draco pulled his arm free. He did look up in surprise however, when Draco simply swapped their positions, so that it was Harry's arm that was threaded through his.
"That's better," he said firmly, "The other way always feels wrong," he resumed their stride, "What's Granger's problem anyway?" he asked casually.
"Uh, oh," Harry stumbled over his words, his brain struggling to catch up, preoccupied with the feeling of warmth that now spread through his chest, "she wants to know how I learnt the stuff I taught them last night,"
"Ah," Draco said simply, "Didn't quite think of that, huh?" Harry only grumbled, "If it will make you feel better, I have some information you might be interested in,"
Harry looked up at him curiously, "Oh?"
Draco smirked, "Turns out a certain owl is a girl, and her name is Eris," he said smugly, clearly pleased with himself, "though if you ask me, that's far too nice a name for such an evil bloody owl," he added with a scowl.
"You know that Eris is the Greek Goddess of Discord and Strife, right?" Harry pointed out, and Draco paused, before saying firmly.
"I stand corrected. That name fits perfectly,"
Harry couldn't help the grin on his face the rest of their walk to Care of Magical Creatures.
Hermione had finally stopped probing Harry as to how he knew what he was teaching them all and had instead fixated on wringing every single bit of knowledge he possessed out of him. He liked to think that they'd come to a silent agreement; he didn't complain about her constant questions, and she didn't ask him how he had all the answers. Occasionally, she'd swing her focus on Draco, who always responded with a dear-in-headlights look and deferred to Harry. This was somewhat damaging to their excuse that Draco had had private tutors and was the one who had actually taught Harry, but Draco hand waved it the one-time Hermione had brought it up.
"Just because I had the extra lessons, doesn't mean I actually had a talent for it Granger," he'd scoffed, rolling his eyes and inching away from her, "he learnt way more about this stuff on his own, than from me. And anyway - Potter's meant to be your instructor. Badger him instead will you!"
She'd scowled, but at least she had left the blonde alone.
The lessons themselves were turning out to be even more of a roaring success than they were the first time. Though the class was still struggling somewhat with the basic offensive jinx (over the three sessions since he had introduced it, six more of the group had been successful with casting it, but only three were able to do so reliably), they had made leaps and bounds with their other spell work. The group had been confused however, when he'd introduced the idea of using spells outside of jinxes and curses in an offensive capacity.
"What's the point of using transfiguration in a fight, when we can just curse them?" Zacharias Smith had scoffed; unfortunately for him he had been stood extremely close to Draco, who had not hesitated in stepping back slightly and crushing Smith's toes under his heel. He and Ron had immediately exchanged a discreet fist bump.
Harry hadn't bothered to say anything and had instead demonstrated by transfiguring the books nearest to him into a flock of furious crows and pointing them in Smith's direction. Smith, and the rest of the group, had yelped, and immediately ducked to cover their heads. Harry very kindly transfigured them back before they could do anyone any harm (though Dennis Creevey did let out a yelp when a book landed on his head).
"You could just curse them," Harry agreed, "there are shields that block curses. There aren't many that are designed to block angry birds. In a life or death situation, you use everything you have available to you to survive," reluctantly, Smith had nodded, and kept his mouth shut the rest of the class.
With schoolwork, Quidditch practice, and DA sessions, one day blended smoothly into the next until it was the first weekend of November, and Harry was sat at the Gryffindor table eating a late breakfast before Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the season. This breakfast was nothing like Harry remembered it being originally.
Without Draco as the instigator of weeks and weeks' worth of harassment and bullying, and without a 'Weasley is our King' badge in sight, Ron was practically buzzing with confidence and excitement for this match. He was eating his sausages and bacon with gumption and eyeing the Slytherin team across the Hall with narrowed interested eyes.
"Who's the new Slytherin seeker?" he asked around his mouthful of food. Next to him, Hermione grimaced with displeasure.
"Harper," Ginny answered, peeling off her bright red Gryffindor gloves and warming her hands around her coffee cup; the weather had turned from bleak and stormy, to bright and frosty as October had become November, "he's a total prick. Montague bumped him up from reserve seeker when he kicked out Draco," her eyes glanced past her brother, and she offered a little wave to whoever she saw beyond him.
Harry followed her gaze and found Blaise wiggling his fingers back as he strode out of the hall, Pansy following him. She waved as well, and shouted:
"You're dead, Potter!" Harry only rolled his eyes at her bright tone, and offered her a two fingered salute, which she returned emphatically.
"Morning Harry," he was distracted from swearing further at the Slytherin by the arrival of Cho, her potentially traitorous friend trailing behind her with a displeased frown, "You excited for the match?" She had an odd kind of pinched, hopeful, smile on her face - as if she were expecting more from this interaction than a simple chat.
"Yeah, it's always good to grind Slytherin into the dust,"
"Here, here!" Said Ginny, raising her cup in a salute.
"I hope you win," Cho said eagerly, almost seeming to tip onto her tiptoes in her enthusiasm, "I'm sure you will - that new Slytherin seeker hasn't got anything on you," Harry was fortunately saved from having to find something to say in response to the slightly manic edge of her words.
"Hello Harry," he looked around at the dreamy tone, and immediately grinned at the sight of the knitted lion's head perched atop Luna's dirty blonde curls, "Hello everybody," she took a seat beside Hermione, who barely maintained a straight face, "Good luck today - I'm supporting Gryffindor!" Even Hermione looked impressed when the hat let out an extremely realistic roar.
"Thanks Luna - that's amazing!"
"I thought about having it chewing on a snake, but I thought that might be disrespectful to my new Slytherin friends," she was most likely referring to Pansy specifically, who seemed to have decided that Luna was absolutely insane, but she was one hundred percent there for it. More often than not they paired up in DA classes, and Harry had caught the Slytherin girl sat at the Ravenclaw table listening closely to whatever it was Luna was rambling on about. On one memorable occasion, Pansy had nearly silenced the entire Hall by banging her fist against the table at something Luna had said, and crying vehemently, 'You're totally right!!'.
"I wouldn't worry about that too much, Lovegood," Draco had strolled up to the table, an enormous black cloak wrapped around his shoulders with the collar turned up to nearly above his ears, and the bottom sweeping down below his knees, cutting a figure reminiscent of the one Harry had once been accustomed to seeing striding across the atrium of the Ministry of Magic; he stopped next to Cho, "Pansy's forgiven me for worse insults," he drawled, nodding a greeting to Cho who smiled back awkwardly.
"You come to hex me?" Harry joked, "Come to sabotage the enemy?"
Draco smirked and reached a hand to his throat. He pulled his collar apart before opening his thick cloak, revealing a bright red and gold scarf and jumper combination, "Come to offer my support actually - I was planning on standing in the Gryffindor stands,"
Harry gaped, struggling to think of anything to say for a moment, "You're supporting Gryffindor against Slytherin?" he said incredulously, and Draco's mouth softened.
"I'm supporting you against Slytherin," he corrected, "I'm always on your side," he added flippantly, and the remark made Harry's belly swoop and a tingling sensation spread across his chest. He was sure his cheeks were flaming red, but he hoped the other's were attributing it to the frostiness of the Great Hall. He was saved by Angelina arriving with Alicia and Katie.
"Come on you two - we're going down to check the conditions and get changed," Harry nodded mindlessly, barely registering when Hermione pressed a kiss to both his and Ron's cheek and wished them good luck.
"See you after the match," Draco said as he left, grasping his elbow, "You better kick Harper's arse," he said darkly, "prick needs knocking down a peg or two,"
Harry huffed out a laugh, "He's a child," Harry reminded him quietly, but Draco only shrugged.
"He's still a prick," he reiterated firmly, "I was a prick," he added for emphasis. Harry shook his head with a chuckle, and followed Ron to the changing rooms.
It was strange walking out onto the Quidditch pitch, and not having Draco's sneering face opposite him. As if they knew the thoughts running through his head, Crabbe and Goyle seemed determined to make up for Draco's absence. Crabbe was bouncing his beaters bat against his palm, and Goyle was menacingly cracking his knuckles, and both of them had their eyes fixed firmly on Harry.
"Merlin, they look like they want to murder you," George murmured next to him.
"Don't worry Harry, we'll keep them off your back," Fred said reassuringly. Confident as he was in the twin's abilities as capable beaters, he was even more confident that he would be leaving the pitch with at least one black eye.
His suspicions proved correct, when upon kicking off hard from the ground, the pair were immediately on him. Fortunately, Harry's significantly slighter frame and faster broom made it difficult for the lumbering pair to stay on him for long. He zoomed away high into the air and across the grounds as far away from them as he could. While they weren't able to keep up, they were able to swing their beater's bats incredibly hard, and with an accuracy that Harry found surprising. In the end, Fred had to tail Harry around the pitch almost constantly in order to beat the bludgers away from him.
It was with difficulty that Harry turned his attention from the bludgers that were following him relentlessly around the pitch, to his actual job. Placing his entire trust in Fred to keep him on his broom, he began his hunt for the snitch in earnest. Without the Slytherin's singing 'Weasley is our King', Harry was able to clearly hear Lee Jordon's booming commentary across the pitch.
"- and that's Alicia there with the quaffle. Terrifying woman she is. Don't know if any of you know this, but she once hit another player so hard in the groin, that his left ball was reabsorbed by his bod -,"
"LEE JORDAN! FOCUS ON THE MATCH!" Harry couldn't help but grin at McGonagall's outraged interruption.
"Sorry Professor - just trying to keep the game interesting - it's hard with Gryffindor wiping the floor with Slytherin so soundly -,"
"JORDAN YOU ARE MEANT TO BE IMPARTIAL!!"
"Sorry Professor, of course Professor,"
Wiping the floor with Slytherin? Harry had been so preoccupied with dodging bludgers, he had paid not one bit of attention to the rest of the game.
"ARE WE WINNING?!" he shouted at Fred. Fred's lips were spread wide, and he nodded enthusiastically as his bat collided with the bludger that had been aiming straight for Harry's head.
"FIFTEY NIL!" he cried back, "RON'S SAVED THREE GOALS!" Harry let out of a huff of disbelief, amazed at how differently Ron was performing without a quarter of the stadium shitting all over his confidence.
Determined not to let the others success be for naught, he resumed his hunt for the snitch with a renewed focus. He didn't even flinch when Fred's bat came frighteningly close to his face to save him from a bludger that had been aimed directly at his nose.
"Alright there scarhead!" Harry ignored the taunt from Harper, who instead of looking for the snitch, was lazily trailing Harry around ten feet or so below - a tactic, if Harry remembered correctly, Draco had used before.
"Not bad!" Harry shouted back, eyes still on the prize, "How about you?" It was a stupid idea though, following Harry, considering the sheer volume of bludgers that were being pelted Harry's way.
"Better than you I thin-," whatever else he had to say would remain a mystery however, as Fred managed to achieve the perfect vantage point over a bludger heading towards Harry and pummelled it in Harper's direction instead. He let out an oof as he was unseated from his broom and began to plummet to the ground below. Fortunately for him, an eagle-eyed Madam Hooch cast quickly to slow his decent and cushion his landing.
"And Slytherin's seeker has been unbroomed! A fantastic display there by the Gryffindor beater, Fred or George Weasley!"
But Harry didn't stop to watch - he'd seen a glint of gold hovering just below Crabbe's feet. Against his better judgement, he was off, barrelling towards the beater at top speed, his eyes fixed on his target.
His sudden burst of power had left Fred for dust and had also left Harry horribly exposed to the bludgers being aimed in his direction. Harry saw the flash of Crabbe's white teeth as he snarled at Harry, and he just about dodged the newest bludger coming his way. Abruptly, the snitch darted downwards, and Harry turned himself into a near vertical dive in its pursuit. He was nearly there, his hand outstretched, fingertips straining towards the little golden ball when -!
"GRYFFINDOR WIN!!" Lee's exuberant shout echoed across the pitch, and three quarters of the school's population erupted into cheers, "HARRY POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WIN TWO HUNDRED AND TEN POINTS TO NIL!" Lee sounded practically apoplectic with joy.
"Get OFF me, Jordan!" snapped McGonagall, though she didn't sound particularly upset - Harry imagined by the slight wobble in her voice, that Lee had been shaking her in his excitement.
Harry meanwhile, had pulled his broom up sharply to avoid slamming into the ground. He skimmed the grass with the tips of his toes, the snitch held triumphantly above his head and a wide grin on his face. Finally, he came to a stop and dismounted smartly, the snitch's fluttering wings tickling against his palm as it tried to break free. He jumped up and down, waving the snitch above his head and cheering with the rest of the school - he'd forgotten how amazing it felt to catch the golden snitch in a competitive match. He felt like he was on top of the world - he felt like he could do anything in that moment, anything at all.
He was brought rather sharply back down to earth however.
A soft thud to his right drew his attention, and he looked round to see Crabbe thundering towards him, his face twisted into a furious snarl. Still riding high, Harry was slow to react when Crabbe loomed closer, and brought his beaters bat high above his head, clearly intending to clobber Harry with it.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Fortunately for Harry, Fred had finally caught up to him. Crabbe's bat went sailing through the air and landed with a harmless clunk in the grass beside Fred, who was stood panting with his wand pointed at the Slytherin.
Perhaps, Harry thought, as Crabbe let out an almighty roar, and grabbed the front of Harry's robes with one hand while he pulled the other back in a tight fist; perhaps, he should have taught the DA to stun first.
Pain exploded in Harry's face as Crabbe's fist met his nose.
Abruptly, Harry was on his back and staring up at a fuzzy Alicia and Katie, an unpleasant metallic taste in his mouth. They let out joint sighs of relief and patted his shoulder in concern.
"Are you okay Harry?" Katie asked anxiously.
"NEVER IN ALL MY LIFE!!" Harry frowned at the sound of McGonagll's furious shouting, "I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH A DISGUSTING DISPLAY! FIFTY POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN!" Harry tried to sit up to see who she was shouting at, but he gave up even before Alicia and Katie tried to stop him, the world swimming in front of him.
"Don't get up Harry," Alicia said, and Harry was suddenly aware that she was pressing something to his face. She adjusted it, and he realised it was a Gryffindor scarf that was now significantly more red than gold.
"Did'e it' me?" Harry's words were said thickly, and by the girls shared look, he guessed they hadn't understood him. When he'd spoken, blood had trickled down the back of his throat, and he spluttered and coughed involuntarily.
"On his side girls," a new brusque voice said, and he felt himself being manhandled over. He coughed and hacked, red spattering against the green turf. Harry squinted across the grass and realised that somebody ginger was squatting down opposite him. Where were his glasses?
"Alright Harry?" Ah, Fred.
He offered him a weak thumbs up.
"There we go, there's a good lad," someone was patting his back comfortingly, "spit it all out, there we are," Harry grimaced at the unpleasant taste of his own blood and didn't need to be told twice.
"If it makes you feel any better," the ginger blur that was Fred said, "I'm pretty sure Hermione and Ginny are currently physically sitting on Malfoy to stop him running over here," for multiple reasons, that did make him feel better, "He's kicking his legs like a toddler and everything," Harry could hear the grin in his voice, and he couldn't help but match it, "Wow - not a good look if I'm honest, Harry," Harry presumed he meant the blood in his teeth, "maybe Draco shouldn't see you like this after all – not that I think it would make any difference for him," wait, what?
"Come on Potter," the hands on Harry's shoulders had suddenly become firm, and were encouraging him to his feet, "up we get, there you go," upright, Harry finally saw who had been helping him; Madam Hooch was peering closely at his face, her eyes narrowed in disapproval, "Come on, we're going to the Hospital Wing,"
"Wait wait! His glasses!" cried Katie, waving her arm around. He presumed his glasses were clutched in her hand. Madam Hooch took them from her but slipped them inside her front pocket rather than onto his face.
"Fat lot of good they'll do him like that," she scoffed, "you'll excuse me if I hold onto them until your face looks less like a red balloon, Potter," she said sternly, her arm resting around his waist as she encouraged him forwards, "now off we go," Harry obediently followed her, squinting slightly against the headache that was building in his temples.
As they exited the pitch, Harry could still hear McGonagall screaming at the top of her lungs at Crabbe, and even Hooch was muttering about his unsportsmanlike behaviour. Their progress into the castle was slow and lumbering and limited by Harry's poor balance. Growing fed up with Harry stumbling dizzily more than once, Hooch had slung his arm firmly around her shoulders, and guided him onwards with a significantly firmer hand.
Upon seeing the state of his face, Madam Promfrey had tutted about unsafe sporting events, and had directed them to the nearest bed. Hooch released her firm grip around his waist and stepped back, pulling his glasses from her pocket and repairing them with a tap of her wand (he presumed so at least, as everything was one big blur). She reclined against the foot of the nearest bed, arms across her chest, apparently resigning herself to waiting with Harry.
"That was a good catch, Potter," she said mildly.
"Fanks'" he said, touching his nose gingerly.
"You always do manage to find the most impressive ways to catch the snitch," she said with a chuckle.
They were interrupted by Madam Pomfrey slapping his hand away from his face.
"Leave it alone boy," she said sharply, before gripping his head with the tips of her fingers and tipping his head this way and that, "Headache?" Harry grunted the affirmative, gritting his teeth against the sick feeling that was building in his stomach, "Dizziness?"
"Yes," Hooch answered flatly for him.
"Nausea?"
"Yup," Harry said tightly, suddenly regretting his enormous breakfast. She hmm'ed darkly.
Straightening, she raised her wand, and the only warning she gave was, "This will sting," before flicking her wand down sharply. She had been right - it did sting, and if anything, the feeling of Harry's nose righting itself once more made his eyes water more than the initial fist to his face had. His eyes were still screwed up against the pain when she took his head firmly in her hands again.
"Eyes open," Harry reluctantly did as she said, peering back into her assessing eyes; she seemed satisfied by whatever she saw, and she released him, "I'll give you a potion for the headache and the pain - you'll have one hell of a bruise come the morning, but otherwise you should be fine," she paused, before flicking her wand again, and Harry felt the touch of her cool magic cleansing his face of the blood that had dried on it, "that's better."
Madam Hooch waited with him until he had necked the potions that Madam Pomfrey had pressed into his hands, "Come on Potter," she said as he hopped off the bed, pressing his glasses back into his hands, "I'll walk you back to your common room," but she needn't have bothered, as waiting for him in the corridor was Ron.
"Alright mate," he said cheerfully, before wincing at the sight of Harry's face, "Ooh that's going to bruise,"
Harry rolled his eyes, but quickly stopped at the twinge of pain in his temples, "Excellent powers of deduction," he said instead, delicately placing his glasses on his still sore nose, "thanks Madam Hooch,"
She inclined her head and said, "Excellent flying today, as always Potter," and with that she turned on her heel and left.
"Come on mate," Ron said with a grin, "there's a whole party in the common room right now. Fred and George got food and drink from the kitchens for us all,"
"What happened after Crabbe punched me?" Harry asked curiously, following Ron towards the Grand Staircase.
"Oh mate," Ron said, his voice gleeful, "I'm sorry he hit you - but if you'd have seen McGonagall's face, even you'd have thought it was worth it. She was furious!!"
"I could hear her shouting,"
"Shouting?" Ron crowed, "After you left, she was positively screaming! Fred pointed out that he'd tried to hit you with his beater bat, but that Fred had disarmed him, and she took another fifty points from him, and gave twenty to Fred! Even Snape didn't have anything to say in his defence,"Ron added with a chortle, "just stood there looking annoyed. Umbridge came down and started asking if you'd done anything to provoke him, but McGongall shut her down immediately. It was brilliant! And then Peeves arrived and found the bat on the ground and we all scarpered pretty quickly after that. He re-released the bludgers and started hitting them at Umbridge - only his aim wasn't very good," he rubbed his shoulder with a wince.
"How's your face?" he asked suddenly, having apparently completely forgotten about Harry's injury, "I saw you go down," he said darkly, "McGonagall said a punch like that could have killed you," Harry only nodded, and for a moment the conversation between them lulled, before Ron carried on carefully, as if he wasn't sure if he should continue, "Malfoy wasn't happy," Harry looked up from watching his feet; Ron was watching him out of the corner of his eye, "Ginny had to put him in a full body bind to calm him down - he looked like he was gonna' murder Crabbe,"
"Yeah?" Harry said hoarsely before clearing his throat and swallowing, his mind wandering back to what Fred had said on the pitch.
A slow, careful grin spread across Ron's face - as if he was slowly feeling out the conversation as he went, "Yeah - Mione' had to take his wand off him cause' he kept trying to curse him. McGonagall made Fred and George take him back to the Gryffindor common room until he'd cooled down - think she was worried he and Crabbe might come to blows if they were let near each other,"
"Draco's in the Gryffindor common room?" he managed to choke out.
Ron nodded, "Yeah - or he's meant to be, wouldn't surprise me if he snuck his way into the Slytherin common room anyway," they came to a stop in front of the Fat Lady, "he was so angry," Ron elbowed him teasingly, "he's really protective of you - huh?" not quite sure what to say, Harry only nodded, and said the password.
Stepping into the common room, they were immediately met by excited chatter and laughter. Fred and George had gone all out, and the tables were covered in different sweets and cakes, and butterbeer. To Harry's eye, it looked like the entire House was down celebrating the win.
He spotted Draco instantly, his platinum blonde hair making him stand out a mile away. He was sat on one of the sofas, wedged between the Weasley twins with a faintly annoyed look on his face. George had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and had pulled him closer to say something into his ear, a grin on his face.
They managed all of ten seconds, before their entrance was noticed, and a great cheer spread across the common room. Draco's eyes snapped to his, and he tried to stand. George, however, refused to release his hold on him, and kept him pinned firmly to his side. Harry barely took his eyes away from the blonde as he accepted handshakes, and backslaps, and congratulations, and so he saw when Fred threw back his head in laughter, and heard him crow, "Down boy!"
Harry managed to escape the crowd, who had turned their attention to Ron now (who was significantly happier to accept their attention) and was finally able to make his way over to the sofa. Seeing his approach, George gave him a knowing grin. He stood, still pinning Draco down with a firm hand on his shoulder, and gestured to his vacated seat with a grand sweeping gesture, "Seeker Potter," he said pompously, "I kept your seat warm in your absence - how's the nose?"
Harry landed heavily into the seat; his arm pressed against Draco's, "Better" he said, looking to Draco but unable to meet his eyes as the other's grey pair were too busy scrutinising Harry's face; he was pretty sure that Draco was only resisting prodding Harry's bruised flesh with his fingertips because his arms were currently pinned in place by Harry on one side, and Fred on the other, "I hear that McGonagall pitched a fit,"
"That's an understatement," Fred said with a cackle, leaning right round Draco and closer to Harry, "I thought she was about to start cursing him!"
"He'd have deserved it," Draco snapped. Fred smirked.
"We all know what you think he'd have deserved," he said, sending Harry a wink, "It's a good job Ginny and Hermione stopped you, or you'd be in detention with him!"
"Detention," Draco sneered, "prick deserves more than that,"
"I heard McGonagall debating with Snape as to whether he should be suspended from Slytherin's next game as well," offered George, "I think they're leaving it up to Dumbledore though - not that he looked impressed either,"
"Fred! George!" They were distracted by a gleeful Lee Jordan waving them over, "Come here - look at this!" he and a group of other students were gathered around something, their expressions varying from excited to nervous. Harry didn't want to know what they were getting up to, but Fred and George definitely did, climbing to their feet and heading over eagerly.
"Excellent match, Harry," Fred said, departing with a slap on his shoulder, and leaving Harry and Draco alone together. They sat together quietly for a beat, before Draco asked:
"Are you okay?" and he finally gave into the impulse Harry could see in his twitching fingers, and carefully ran their tips across Harry's bruised cheeks, before letting them fall back by his side.
"Yeah - just still quite sore. Better than before. Thought I might throw up,"
"You landed hard," Draco said darkly, "crumpled like a stack of cards,"
"I'm okay," Harry reassured him, "I should probably have ducked on reflection," he added, "reflexes are getting rusty,"
Draco rolled his eyes at him, "It's not your fault you got punched in the face," he said dryly.
"Once upon a time, I was excellent at dodging fists to the face," Harry said wistfully.
"Do you want to go back to those days?"
"Oh, Merlin no," Harry said vehemently, "no - no law enforcement in my future,"
"Good - it was had enough watching that oaf deck you. I don't relish the idea of you facing actually competent dark wizards every day," Draco said shrewdly, and Harry had to swallow his words for a moment, his breath catching.
Draco was speaking casually of a future where Harry was a fixed point in his life - as if it were obvious that, once Voldemort was defeated, they would remain in one another's orbit. He supposed it made sense; he doubted there was, or ever would be, anyone else on earth that he could relate to as much as Draco.
His mind was drawn abruptly to the thick scar on his neck, and he felt sick with guilt. He needed to tell Draco - but how could he? If the choice was between killing Voldemort and saving Harry, he was becoming increasingly sure he knew which side of the fence Draco would fall on, and he couldn't let that happen. It was more than Harry at stake here.
"You okay?" Draco asked in concern, and Harry realised he had fallen quiet.
"Yeah - sorry," he said hastily, when a thought occurred to him, "Hey, do you want to come up to the dormitory? I've got something to show you,"
Draco nodded, still looking worried, and allowed Harry to pull him to his feet and towards the spiral staircase. He ignored the knowing smirk that Ginny sent him as they passed.
"This room is a tip," Draco said flatly as the dormitory door swung closed behind them.
Harry rolled his eyes, "And the Slytherin's dormitory isn't? That's mine," he pointed to his bed, and Draco made himself comfortable without needing to be told more, relaxing back against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him while Harry rummaged through his trunk.
"Absolutely not - Snape would pitch a fit,"
"Snape inspects your dormitories?"
"The prefects are meant to do monthly spot checks, and then they - we," he clarified, apparently remembering he was technically a prefect too, "are meant to report back to him if any dorms are too messy,"
"Seems a bit anal," he said, distracted - he hadn't used it all year, and now he couldn't find it.
"It is - sorry, but what are you looking for?" Draco asked curiously, just as Harry put his hand to it.
"This!" Harry cried triumphantly, holding the Marauders Map above his head for a moment before scrambling to take a seat opposite Draco on the bed. Draco readjusted his position to make room for him, until they were sat opposite one another with their legs crossed and their knees pressed together.
"A bit of old parchment?" Draco said dubiously as Harry unfolded the map over their laps.
Pulling his wand free, Harry smirked at the memory he stirred, "Not just any parchment," he said mysteriously; he tapped the centre of the map with his wand and spoke clearly, "I solemnly declare that I am up to no good,"
Draco looked at him like he'd grown a second head, before his eyes spotted the ink that was beginning to spread out from Harry's wand tip. He watched, his mouth open slightly, as the map revealed itself to him.
"Is this it?" he said, a little breathless, "the map of the school your father made?" Harry nodded, spinning the map around so it was the right way up for the other. Draco leant so close to the map he was almost doubled in two.
"Is that Snape and McGonagall in Dumbledore's office?" Draco said, tracing his finger carefully over the map.
Harry couldn't quite see with Draco's head in the way, "Probably talking about what to do with Crabbe," Harry mused.
"And look! Peeves is on here too - he's following Umbridge through a corridor. I think she must be on the way to the headmaster's office as well. So, ghosts show up too?"
"Yeah - even if you're in disguise you show up on the map,"
"This is an excellent bit of magic - I can't believe your father made it while he was still at school," Draco said, sounding impressed, "but what's this?" Harry tried to see what Draco was pointing at, but only succeeded in bashing their heads together, "Ouch - what are you doing?!"
"Trying to see past your massive head," Harry said sarcastically, "it being surprisingly solid, I can't actually see the map through it,"
"Oh, for fuck's sake - just come here, we can both fit," Draco budge up to the very edge of the bed, and manhandled Harry, pulling him to sit next to him, "will you - just sit like- no, Merlin Harry just sit down!" there were elbows in sides and knees in uncomfortable places before Harry was finally squeezed in beside Draco, "move - I mean lean forward a bit, no no not like - yes! There, that's better," Draco had nudged Harry forwards to settle his arm behind Harry's back, so that they actually nearly fit on the single bed side-by-side without one of them hanging precariously on the edge, "Now! What's this?" Draco's finger was resting on a passageway that led directly out of the castle and into Hogsmeade.
"Oh - the map shows the secret passages out of the castle," Draco looked at him with interest, "that one's entrance is through the one-eyed crone's hump and leads to Honeyduke's cellar,"
"Well… that could come in handy," Harry knew they were both thinking of the ring, "the Room of Requirement isn't on here?"
"No - I think it's either unplotable or they never found it. The Chamber of Secrets isn't on there either,"
"Are there many more passages out of Hogwarts?" Draco asked curiously.
"Yes and no," Harry said with two sideways bobs of his head, "There are seven - but Filch knows about four, one has caved in, there's this one, and then there's one that leads from the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack,"
"So that one isn't much use either then," Draco said shrewdly.
"Actually - there's a small knob on the base of the tree that, if you press it, immobilises the tree so that you can get to the passageway,"
"How do you know that?" Draco said incredulously.
"The passageway was created for Remus when he was at school here - so he had somewhere safe to transform on full moons,"
Draco fell quiet, a small frown on his face as he contemplated what Harry had said.
With no words passing between them, Harry couldn't help but think about how close they were. Their sides were practically plastered together, shoulder to hip, and Draco's arm was pinned between Harry's back and the headboard, forcing him to wrap the arm around his hip. They were effectively embracing, though it was only as a result of circumstance rather than choice. He was close enough that he could see the torchlight reflected in Draco's grey eyes and feel his breath on his cheek.
Abruptly, Harry couldn't see the torch light in Draco's eyes any longer, because they had been turned on him. Harry froze, and Draco's gaze was suddenly piercing, and the air in the room felt instantly charged.
He wondered if this was how Umbridge had felt all year - as if any human touch could send a shock straight through him. Except Harry was sure this feeling applied to Draco alone. Draco's eyes dropped down to his mouth and stayed there for a long moment, before returning to Harry's. The look in them was nearly impossible to decipher; Harry might have kidded himself into thinking the look was longing, but the reluctance there was plain to see, as was the pain - so much pain.
In Harry's daydreams, Draco would have taken him by the face and pressed their lips together in a passionate exchange - but he didn't need to be a legilimence to know that those feelings were not reflected in the grey eyes in front of him. For a brief, slightly alarming moment though, Harry could have sworn Draco was leaning closer.
What Draco might, or might not have done was never revealed however, as they were interrupted by the dormitory door opening with a loud bang, and while they didn't jump apart, Draco certainly wasn't leaning forwards now if he had been before.
"Oh, uh," a wide-eyed Seamus stood in the door, alarmed and embarrassed eyes flicking between Harry and Draco on the bed, "I'm ah… sorry, sorry I was just getting -," Seamus darted forward and grabbed a box of Bertie Bots from the side of his bed, "sorry!" he squeaked before disappearing downstairs again.
Beside him, Draco released a great shuddering breath.
"I should probably get back to Slytherin," Draco said, his voice painfully level, "I still owe Crabbe a curse on your behalf," he forced a laugh, and gently tugged his arm away; Harry leant forward with a small jump and Draco's arm came abruptly free.
"Alright - will you be okay in Slytherin?" he said anxiously, but Draco only smirked.
"Course I will - that dunderhead has got nothing on me," he backed away to the dormitory door, his eyes still on Harry's, "That was some good flying today," his hand was on the doorknob, but he seemed reluctant to leave, "you could play professionally if you wanted to,"
Harry gave a one-sided shrug and a weak smile, "Maybe - might be fun. Ginny seemed to like it,"
Draco nodded, and took a deep breath that he held for an unnaturally long moment, before he released it all in one giant rush, "Goodnight Harry,"
Harry's heart fluttered, "Goodnight Draco," the door was opened, and Draco was gone.
Notes