Honesty Among Snakes
Chapter 8: Honesty Among Snakes
Harry followed the others back to the castle, keeping a noticeable distance.
His limbs felt heavy, but it was different from before. The overwhelming exhaustion that constantly plagued him was no longer as suffocating. He had slept—really slept.
Still, fatigue lingered in his bones.
He was calmer than usual.
More rested, but not fully recovered.
Without thinking much about it, he followed Draco and the others into the Great Hall.
And then he simply did it.
He sat next to them again.
No hesitation, no searching for a secluded corner.
He was just… there.
Draco shot him a brief glance but said nothing.
Pansy raised an eyebrow at him, Zabini looked amused, and Nott remained as unbothered as ever.
None of them commented on it.
And that was just fine with Harry.
The day passed quickly, without any major incidents.
Harry didn’t feel the urge to run from them.
Maybe because it wouldn’t make a difference anymore.
Maybe because, after everything, it was simply easier not to fight it.
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But when it was time to return to the common rooms, he subtly lagged behind.
He had no intention of going back to the dormitory.
Not yet.
He would retreat to his usual hiding place, somewhere he could be alone.
But Draco noticed.
He turned abruptly, grabbed Harry’s arm, and held him back.
Harry tensed slightly, his instincts reacting to the sudden contact, but Draco didn’t let go.
"You’re staying right here," he said quietly but firmly. "We need to talk, Potter."
Harry’s green eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing.
He knew there was no point in arguing anymore.
So, he let Draco pull him into the Slytherin dormitory.
The room was quiet, bathed in the soft green glow of enchanted light reflecting off the stone walls.
The other Slytherins had already turned in for the night, leaving only Draco and Harry.
Draco released him, closed the door, and turned to face him.
"So," he began, crossing his arms over his chest. "What exactly is going on, Potter?"
Harry exhaled slowly.
He knew this was inevitable.
He knew Draco wouldn’t drop it.
So, he was honest—as honest as he could be.
"I don’t know exactly," he started, sinking onto the bed.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"That’s a bloody terrible start."
Harry let out a quiet snort. "Yeah, welcome to my life."
He ran a hand through his hair before continuing.
"It happened on my birthday. I was in pain… unbearable pain. And when it was over, I was suddenly… different."
Draco remained silent, listening intently.
Harry hesitated for a moment before going on.
"I didn’t know what was wrong with me. My senses were sharper. My instincts… louder. And then, I transformed for the first time."
Draco’s face revealed nothing, but there was a glint of intrigue in his eyes.
"And why did you keep hiding?"
Harry shrugged.
"What do you think?" he asked with a tired smile. "If the wrong people find out, I’m a lab rat. Maybe they lock me up. Maybe they experiment on me. I wasn’t going to risk it."
Draco frowned.
"You really think Dumbledore would do that?"
Harry looked at him, his gaze hard.
"I don’t know what to believe anymore."
A heavy silence fell between them.
Then Draco spoke again.
"Why the forest?"
"Because I need it."
Harry’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"I can’t just… sleep like before. I can’t sit still. If I don’t let it out, if I don’t move, I’ll go crazy."
Draco watched him for a long moment, thoughtful.
"That explains a lot."
Harry let out a humorless laugh. "Glad you understand."
Another pause.
Then Draco leaned against one of the bedposts.
"So, what now?"
Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"
Draco shrugged.
"You really think the rest of us are just going to pretend this never happened?"
Harry stared at him.
Then sighed.
"I was hoping."
Draco smirked. "That was dumb of you."
Harry ran a hand over his face and fell back onto the bed.
"So, you’re going to tell someone?"
Draco was silent for a moment.
Then he said, "Not yet."
Harry lifted his head to look at him.
Draco’s expression was calm but firm.
"I want to figure out what this means first. How far it goes. And if you’re smart, Potter, you’ll let me help you."
Harry stared at him.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed quietly.
"I can’t believe you actually want to help me."
Draco grinned. "Yeah, well. It surprises me too."
Harry closed his eyes.
He hadn’t expected the night to end like this.
But maybe… it wasn’t so bad.
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Draco let Potter go after their talk.
But he didn’t just pretend nothing had happened.
As soon as Harry left the dorm, he gathered Zabini, Pansy, and Nott.
He told them what Potter had revealed—at least, as much as he felt was necessary.
He didn’t hide the fact that Potter needed to transform to keep himself sane.
He didn’t hide the fact that Potter spent his nights in the forest, exhausting himself just to stay in control.
But he did hide how much Potter was afraid.
Because that wasn’t anyone’s business.
Zabini and Nott listened quietly, exchanging glances but asking no stupid questions.
Pansy looked somewhat skeptical, but in the end, she nodded as well.
They wouldn’t say anything.
For now.
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The next day came.
Potter didn’t show up for breakfast.
Draco watched the Slytherin table, expecting him to appear at some point—but he never did.
Zabini took a bite of his toast and said casually, "Maybe he’s sleeping."
Draco snorted. "Potter? Yeah, right."
But if not in the dormitory, and not at breakfast…
Then where?
He didn’t show up for the first class.
Or the second.
Draco felt his frustration growing.
Where the hell was Potter?
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History of Magic dragged on endlessly.
Draco sat in the second row, barely paying attention as Professor Binns droned on about some ancient wizarding battle.
It was almost over.
Then—
The door creaked open.
A breathless Harry Potter stumbled into the room.
His hair was messier than usual, his clothes disheveled, and he moved with a tension Draco didn’t like.
He said nothing.
No explanation.
He just slipped into a seat at the back and stared at his desk.
Draco narrowed his eyes.
What happened?
Potter avoided looking at him.
That alone was suspicious.
And when class ended, Potter did what he always did—vanish as fast as possible.
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But not today.
Draco grabbed his arm and dragged him into the corner of the now-empty classroom.
Potter froze.
Draco didn’t let him go.
With a swift, precise motion, he pushed him against the cold stone wall.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
Potter’s eyes widened slightly.
"Nothing."
Draco’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t lie to me, Potter."
Harry tried to pull away, but Draco held firm.
Then—
A flinch.
A brief, involuntary twitch.
A protective reflex—Harry’s hands shot forward to shield his stomach.
Too late.
Draco saw it.
The telltale stain of red spreading through the fabric of his robes.
He let go.
Potter immediately pushed off the wall, stepping back as if that would hide what Draco had already seen.
Draco said nothing.
His gaze drifted from Potter’s face downward.
To where blood was seeping beneath his fingers.
"Shit," Zabini muttered from the doorway, having silently observed the whole thing.
Harry tried to turn away, as if that would undo the situation.
Draco didn’t stop him.
But his voice was cold when he said:
"Lift your shirt, Potter."
Harry’s jaw tightened.
"No."
Draco stepped closer.
"Potter."
Harry’s fingers clenched around the fabric of his cloak as if holding on for dear life.
Draco didn’t back down.
"You planning to lie to me? Say it’s nothing?"
Harry said nothing.
His shoulders sagged slightly.
And then…
He exhaled heavily.
Slowly, hesitantly, he loosened his grip, reached for his cloak—and lifted it just enough.
Draco’s stomach twisted.
A long, bleeding wound stretched across Potter’s abdomen.
Not deep enough to be fatal.
But deep enough to hurt like hell.
And fresh.
"Who did this?" Draco asked quietly.
Harry shook his head.
"None of your business."
Draco gritted his teeth.
"Tell me, Potter."
Harry held his gaze.
"No."
Draco inhaled sharply.
Then, in a dangerously low voice, he said:
"Then at least tell me why the hell you’re running around the school bleeding."
And this time…
Harry hesitated for too long.