Unspoken Truths and Quiet Clues
**Harry**
The moment Draco walked back into the common areas — eyes low, spine stiff — something inside Harry shifted.
He didn’t care what people thought anymore.
He was going to clear Draco’s name. Period.
“Something’s off about the whole thing,” Harry told Hermione the next morning. “No motive. No witnesses. And Draco was supposedly using his own wand?”
Hermione looked thoughtful. “That is stupid. He’s many things, but not careless.”
Harry smirked. “Wow. A compliment.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she deadpanned. “We need to look at wand signatures. If his wand was used, the spell would’ve been recorded.”
“So we sneak into Flitwick’s office and get the logs?” Harry asked, already standing.
Hermione sighed. “Why are your plans always borderline illegal?”
“Because they work.”
**Draco**
He didn’t ask why Harry started sitting next to him in class again.
Didn’t ask why Potter kept glaring at anyone who whispered too loudly.
Or why he’d found a cup of tea waiting by his books yesterday morning.
He knew the answer.
Harry was trying.
And Draco wasn’t sure what was scarier — that he wanted it, or that he might need it more than he realized.
**Hermione**
Two days later, they had something.
“Harry, look.” Hermione pointed to the record sheet. “The spell used was Confusio. But the wand logs show that spell cast from two sources — Draco’s wand and another.”
Harry leaned in. “Whose?”
Hermione flipped to the registry.
“Laurence Avery,” she whispered. “Avery's kid. He’s in fifth year.”
Harry frowned. “He was at that dueling practice with Draco last week, right?”
Hermione nodded. “And he has a grudge. His brother was in Azkaban — Draco's father testified against him after the war.”
It made sense now.
Frame Draco. Humiliate him. Revenge.
And worst of all? No one had questioned it.
**Harry**
He told McGonagall everything.
This time, with evidence.
She didn’t say much, only nodded tightly and said, “Thank you, Mr. Potter. We’ll handle it.”
The next morning, Laurence Avery was gone from the Great Hall.
Draco’s name was cleared.
But Harry noticed — he still sat alone.
**Draco**
It should’ve felt like victory.
It didn’t.
Because even now, even with the truth out — people still looked at him the same.
Like he was one step away from snapping.
And worst of all… he still didn’t know where he stood with Harry.
That night, he found Harry waiting by the lake again.
“You were right,” Draco said, voice low.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “About what?”
“Not saying anything hurts more than saying the wrong thing.”
Harry swallowed. “So… talk to me.”
Draco hesitated.
Then quietly: “I’m tired, Potter. Of being hated. Of being alone. Of pretending I don’t care when I do.”
Harry’s heart twisted.
He stepped closer. “You’re not alone.”
Draco blinked.
“I’m here,” Harry whispered. “Even if you hate me sometimes. Even if I don’t deserve it. I’m not going anywhere.”
Draco’s breath caught.
For the first time in weeks, he let himself hope.