Chapter 3
Harry looked like shit. He knew it. Elsie knew it. Fuck, even Teddy knew it. He walked into the Great Hall, spit up stains on his clothes under the black robes he wore and a haunted look in his eye. He knew that today the students were probably whispering about what the hell was wrong with him. Somewhere in the haze of his thoughts he considered where this ranked alongside the sideways looks when the whole school thought he was the evil heir of Slytherin, or a cheating bastard who’d beat the age line on the Goblet of Fire, or cheating on Ginny with Hermione (hadn’t that been the rumor at some point?), and decided that it might be a silver lining to his bizarre life that he simply didn’t give a shit about them any longer. He crossed the Hall heading to McGonagall, who had recently chastised him for not stopping by the head table for his morning tea consistently enough, and who currently looked vaguely furious. Harry realized belatedly that this was most likely directed at him. “Potter,” she said in a harsh undertone as she poured a cup of tea, “did you even sleep?”
Harry considered answering but sipped the tea he was handed instead. He hadn’t, of course. Not in days, not particularly since the day he’d moved back to Hogwarts. He’d had a few hours here and there, always tormented by nightmares. And Teddy had a cold (luckily his fever had broken during the night), and Ron hadn’t shown up to class yesterday and Harry had been too busy with Teddy to check on him.
“Eat.” Minerva hissed at him sternly. Harry opened his mouth to say he would eat in his rooms, but she beat him to it. “Here. Now, Potter.” Harry sighed and complied, walking around the long table to sit at her side, facing the students.
“I eat, you know,” he mumbled so no one else could hear him.
“The weight you’ve lost says otherwise.” Minerva shot back quietly. She wasn’t usually so direct.
But Harry couldn’t fight her on it. He knew he was skinny again, like he’d always been after a summer at the Dursley’s. He just didn’t have much of an appetite. McGonagall sat next to him, having a conversation with Professor Slughorn on her other side, until he finished his plate.
It was Saturday, the first one of the term, so Harry could have tried to sleep in, he supposed. But he’d been up since 4 anyway, and he wanted to check on Ron as soon as he could. So after breakfast (and sending Elsie a message to go ahead and feed Teddy his), he walked to the 8th year dormitory to find Ron.
He knew where it was, of course – it was on the Marauders Map, and Ron and Hermione had described it to him. He walked up to a large tapestry on the 8th floor corridor, near the west wing. It unexpectedly rolled up for him automatically as he came near, making him jump and then feel silly about it. “You’re a professor, Harry,” he imagined Hermione saying in his head. “You don’t need passwords and an Invisibility Cloak to get around Hogwarts now.”
He barely glanced around the common room (decorated in a cozy, but not Slytherin, green) as he crossed it, making his way to Ron’s door and knocking gently. No response. He knocked louder, swearing when he didn’t get an answer.
“I don’t think he’s in there,” a quiet voice said from behind him. Harry jumped, turning, wand already in hand. Malfoy put his hands in the air immediately, showing he didn’t have his wand. His eyes were wide.
“Shit, I’m sorry Malfoy,” Harry swore, putting his wand away. The first time Malfoy had spoken to him, and he had to go and pull his fucking wand on him. “It’s just reflexes, I used to pull it on my Kreacher – er, on Kreacher – on my house elf four times a day, won’t happen again,” he said, stumbling over his words in his hurry to explain himself. Malfoy put his hands down slowly with a slightly wary expression on his face, seeming to accept this explanation. In the week they’d all been back Malfoy would nod when he caught Harry’s eye or Harry said hello to him, and follow whatever directions he gave in class, but this was the first time he’d spoken to Harry unprompted. “Er – why d’you say he’s not in there?”
“I was in the common room studying all night, I didn’t see Weasley come back. Thought he was with you,” he added as an afterthought.
Harry’s mind was racing. That meant Ron hadn’t been back since lunch yesterday. Shit. Where would he go? Harry opened his dorm door, double-checking that he was gone, before running his hand through his hair, a sure sign that he was distressed or distracted. “Shit. Okay – shit. Gotta go check the map. Gotta go get Teddy. Fuck.” Harry pulled himself together and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Malfoy.” He left the common room, practically running, leaving Malfoy standing in the middle of the room saying “…map? Teddy?” in a puzzled voice.
Several hours later Harry found Ron, finally, in Hogsmeade, staring at an empty storefront that Quinn’s Specialty Quills had moved out of a year before. “Ron,” he breathed in relief. Calmer, he walked up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“They wanted to put in a second branch of Wheezes here,” Ron said, unprompted, after a moment. Harry nodded. They stood in front of the shopfront for a long time before Ron finally spoke again, in a whisper. “Fell asleep in my charms essay. Had a dream. A good one. They opened the new branch for this school year, and I worked with them on weekends to earn some extra galleons. And Fred—” he stopped. Harry hugged him, carefully not crushing Teddy in the carrier strapped to his chest between them.
“S’alright.” There stood there another long moment, leaning on each other. “Will you come back to the castle?” Harry finally asked. Ron nodded somewhat dumbly, finally taking his eyes off the store.
Harry left Ron in the care of Hermione, who had been searching the cemetery and Diagon while Harry searched the grounds and Hogsmeade, after a couple of hours. Ron had talked as much as he wanted to; Harry felt that Hermione could comfort him better than he could now.
Teddy woke up from a long nap as they walked the halls back to Harry’s rooms, and Harry decided it’d be good for him to get some fresh air. He changed into muggle jeans and an old football sweatshirt of Dudley’s that he’d shrunk in the wash, cast a disillusionment charm over both him and Teddy, and walked through the castle in peace.
Harry and Teddy were lounging in a large magical pen that he had created on the grass near the greenhouses when Harry spotted Malfoy walking past, heading back to the castle from the lake. On an impulse, Harry created a window in the wards and called, “Oi! Malfoy!”
Malfoy looked around, frowning, and clearly didn’t see them. Harry widened the window and called again, and this time Malfoy caught sight of them and walked over. “That’s quite the fortress you’re inside, Potter,” he said, eyebrows raised.
“Can’t get any peace round here if the students can see me,” Harry responded, which was true. “Care to come in?”
Malfoy looked taken aback but nodded after a moment of consideration. Harry widened the window a bit more and Malfoy carefully stepped through, the wards closing behind him. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before nodding to Teddy and asking, “who’s this?”
Teddy, who was currently pulling himself across the grass on his stomach to get to his stuffed dragon, looked up and smiled at Draco, his hair turning platinum blond. Harry laughed. “Teddy, my godson. He only changes his hair for people he really likes, you’re lucky,” he added.
Malfoy gingerly sat on the grass a few feet from Harry and nodded. “He must really like you then,” he replied, as Teddy turned his hair back to complete his favorite look, a miniature Harry. “He looks cute like that.”
Harry smiled. “We look after each other,” he said, as if a baby and an adult wizard were equally capable of taking care of one another. “Anyway, thought you’d like to know we found Ron.”
Malfoy, who hadn’t expected to be told this, just said “oh.” Then, surprising Harry and himself, he asked “is he alright?”
“As alright as any of us are,” Harry said after a pause. Malfoy turned to look at him, clear grey eyes studying him.
“You don’t seem alright,” he said, in a way that didn’t feel particularly accusatory – as it might have coming from McGonagall – or coddling – as it would have from Hermione – or taunting, as perhaps a year or two ago such a statement from Draco would have been. When Malfoy said it now, it was a statement of plain fact.
Harry didn’t respond, just watched Teddy, who had reached his toy and was now attempting to roll over.