The Wandering Wolf
Chapter 11: The Wandering Wolf
After a long school day, the group had gathered in the common room to relax with a casual game of wizard’s chess.
Draco and Zabini sat across from each other, while Pansy and Nott watched the game with interest.
"It's your turn, Malfoy," Zabini said lazily, absentmindedly letting a chess piece wander across the board.
"I know, Blaise. Stop rushing me," Draco replied, deep in thought over his next strategy.
It was a peaceful, quiet atmosphere.
Until the door to the common room opened.
Harry Potter stepped inside.
The group noticed him immediately.
He still looked a bit tired, but far more relaxed than usual.
Instead of settling into one of the more secluded spots—like he used to—he walked straight toward them.
Without a word, he sank onto the couch next to Nott.
And then he did something no one expected.
He leaned against Nott’s shoulder, closed his eyes… and took a nap.
The silence that followed was almost tangible.
Nott stiffened slightly, then slowly raised an eyebrow.
Pansy, sitting across from him, pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress her laughter.
Zabini grinned as he casually placed a chess piece back onto the board.
Draco, however…
He grinned widely, pulled out his wand, and murmured a quick flash spell.
A bright light illuminated the room.
Nott blinked.
"Did you seriously just take a picture of me?"
Draco lowered his wand, examined the image with clear satisfaction, and leaned back with a smirk.
"Oh, absolutely."
Zabini burst out laughing.
"Well, well, Nott. Looks like Potter has found a new pillow."
Pansy gasped in delight, barely holding back her giggles.
"I hope you didn't expect him to stay with you forever, Draco."
Draco shrugged casually.
"He can wander all he wants, but this picture is going nowhere."
Nott let out a long sigh, glancing down at the sleeping Potter, who had curled up against his shoulder with complete trust.
"I swear, if he starts drooling, I’m going to kill him."
Zabini clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.
"Welcome to the Potter Cuddle Club, my friend."
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The evening was calm.
After a long day, the Slytherins were getting ready for bed.
Zabini and Nott were still discussing their chess match, Pansy absentmindedly brushed her hair, and Draco sat on his bed, reading an old manuscript on dark potions.
Then Harry entered the dormitory.
Draco immediately noticed something was off.
Harry seemed… restless.
Not tired or exhausted—he always was—but tense.
His shoulders were stiff, his gaze a little too serious.
Draco closed his book and called him over.
"Potter. What’s wrong?"
Harry hesitated for a moment, then slowly stepped closer to Draco’s bed.
He looked like he was gathering his thoughts before speaking.
"I… wanted to tell you something."
The others took notice.
Pansy sat up, watching him curiously, Zabini leaned back with his arms behind his head, and even Nott raised an intrigued eyebrow.
"The wound on my stomach," Harry began quietly. "I didn’t tell you how I really got it."
Draco leaned forward. "So?"
Harry glanced at the floor briefly, then took a deep breath.
"I went too far into the forest last night. I… was ambushed."
The air in the room grew colder.
"Ambushed?" Nott repeated slowly.
Harry nodded.
"By hunters."
Silence.
Draco’s fingers clenched slightly around the edge of his book.
"Wait," Zabini said seriously. "You mean actual hunters? Witch hunters?"
"Yeah."
Harry’s voice was quiet but firm.
"They knew what they were doing. They weren’t just experimenting. They had tracking spells."
Pansy shook her head. "That’s insane. Why are they here?"
Harry looked at her, and in his gaze lay a truth he didn’t need to say aloud.
They all knew it.
They were here because of him.
Because of the white wolf.
Zabini let out a long sigh. "And I assume they’re still around?"
Harry nodded slowly.
Draco closed his eyes for a moment.
He knew where this was going.
He saw it in the way Harry’s hands clenched his cloak.
In the way his gaze flitted anxiously around the room.
And then he said it.
Quietly. Hesitantly.
"I… wanted to ask…"
He faltered, as if reconsidering.
Then he took a deep breath and quickly said:
"Would you mind if I stayed here tonight and transformed here?"
Silence.
Harry didn’t look at them when he said it.
As if he was afraid they’d laugh at him.
Afraid they’d send him away.
But none of them laughed.
None of them made a stupid remark.
Instead, they exchanged looks.
And then Draco, in a calm voice, said:
"Of course you can stay."
Harry blinked, surprised.
Zabini shook his head with a smirk. "As if we’d let you wander into the forest alone, Potter."
Pansy shrugged. "I’m not thrilled about having dog fur in our dorm, but it’s better than finding a shredded Potter in the woods."
Nott nodded slowly. "Besides… you’re here all the time anyway. Doesn’t make much difference now."
Harry looked at them all.
Then—slowly, almost hesitantly—he relaxed.
"Thanks," he murmured softly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Don’t make it so dramatic, Potter. You’ve already slept here before."
"Yeah, but…"
Harry stopped.
It was different when it was officially allowed.
It was different when he wasn’t just tolerated.
Draco shook his head and stood up.
"Come on. Transform. Let’s see if you still steal my bed."
Harry huffed quietly—and with a gentle shimmer, his body began to shift.
Seconds later, the small white wolf lay on the floor.
He glanced around the room briefly before cautiously jumping onto Draco’s bed, curling up, and closing his eyes contentedly.
Draco stared at him for a moment, then sighed.
"I knew it."
Zabini grinned. "Well then, good night, Malfoy’s pet dog."
Harry didn’t react.
He was already asleep.