Chapter 3
The sun’s warmth seeped in through the windows, heating the greenhouse to a near unbearable temperature.
Harry inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the layer of sweat that he now had to deal with. He was hit with the familiar scent of damp earth and rare flowers.
“As I am sure you have worked out from your previous lesson, this period will be spent reviewing learning from last year. We will be focusing on gardening spells in particular.” A groan went through the crowd of Gryffindors. As boring as those spells can be, it was better than sitting there for hours listening to the theory side of a cabbage. No one would enjoy that, even Hermione struggled to stay focused.
Ron, standing next to Harry, sighed dramatically. “Remind me again why we’re taking this.”
“We have to have a N.E.W.T in it to become an auror.”
“Right.” He shook his head before pulling out a stool to sit on. Harry spared a glance at the door before sitting on the one next to him.
Hermione had chosen to sit near Neville, saying he would be more focused on his work. It was a fair choice, he had always loved plants. Harry knew he spent most of the summer in the greenhouses, with Professor sprout, caring for the array of greenery. He wouldn’t be surprised if Neville became a herbology teacher, it would suit him.
“Now, I know many of you may think this class is of no use to those who aim to become aurors. I’m here to remind you that this is one of the most important subjects any auror could learn. No matter what situation you may be in, whether you can use magic or not, a flower or weed, a tentacula or cabbage can help you.” Professor Sprout waved her wand, setting out pots of soil in front of each student.
There was a putrid smell coming from the pots, no one dared to get too close to them. Except Neville and the professor, although their noses are probably used to it by now.
“In each pot there is a different plant. I want you to use the appropriate gardening spell to aid growth, then write down the characteristics of each plant and how it can help you in a difficult situation. You will have this lesson to complete the spells and start the essay, the rest of it will be completed as homework for next week.”
Some began to sift through last years notes in hopes of finding the right spells, others began instantly, knowing exactly the spell to use.
Harry stared at the pot in front of him, not really paying attention to what he was meant to do.
Instead, he thought about throwing a Chomping Cabbage at Lord Voldemort. Realistically, he would destroy it instantly with a spell. However, what if he dropped his wand. Would he run from a little cabbage? Throw one of his death eaters at it? He hoped it would be Snape.
He smiled at the thought before his head was filled with flashes of him killing muggles, torturing Muggleborns with the Cruciatus Curse, using the Imperius Curse on Malfoy, setting Nagini on the Muggle studies teacher.
He paused. He saw Professor Burbage that morning, in the Great Hall, during breakfast.
Malfoy under Imperius? That wasn’t a familiar vision.
Harry tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, only to be met with, once again, the rancid smell of plants and soil. It was then that he realised how hot he was. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his clothes to his body. His cloak felt extremely heavy on him, weighing him down. His vision began to blur, the world tilting slightly. He grabbed the edge of the table in a desperate attempt at steadying himself. There was something sticky on the table, probably residue from the previous lesson, but it threw Harry over the edge.
“Mr Potter? Where do you think you’re going?” Sprout’s voice followed him out the room and back towards the castle.
Everything was too loud, too hot, too close. He couldn’t stand it. Tears burned at his eyes, adding another thing to make him uncomfortable. He ran into several people in the corridors, with no destination in mind. He needed to get rid of layers, splash cold water on himself and sit in silence.
“Watch where you’re going you filthy- Potter?” Someone called after him, he didn’t care. They could have followed him, and he wouldn’t care. Maybe it was one of those enemies Malfoy mentioned. Malfoy. He was put under Imperius. The thought made him feel sick.
He could hear the hissing of Nagini, as she was about to strike Burbage. The screams that quickly died out, replaced by her choking on her own blood. He saw the faces of those who watched, those who smiled, those who looked away.
Harry wanted it to stop, he wanted everything to stop, to end, even if it meant death. If that was the only way to have peace, he would take it.
The familiar, gloomy bathroom was soon in his view. He slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the wall. There was a slight chill, Harry needed more of it.
He threw off his cloak and jumper, undid a few buttons whilst loosening his tie. The cold wall mixed with the slight breeze began to bring him back to reality. His eyes shut for a moment, relaxing in the peace, before the bathroom door burst open.
“You- Oh.” The same voice from earlier, the one he crashed into. His mind was still clouded, his ears still ringing. He doubted he’d be able to make out who it was if he opened his eyes, so they remained shut.
Whoever it was closed the door and locked it, leaning on the wall of the first stall infront of him.
Perhaps they were here to kill him. Torture him. Take him to the Dark Lord. He wouldn’t be able to escape, the door was locked for a reason. The location of his wand was unknown. So he really had no means of escaping or even fighting back.
Harry didn’t know how long it had been before everything went back to normal. Well, as normal as it could get for someone who had to be constantly alert.
He slowly opened his eyes, blinking quickly to try and get used to the light. A figure in front of him came into focus.
Malfoy, leaning on the stall wall, reading a small book. He seemed intensely focused on it, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he flipped the page.
Harry watched him for a while, seeing the other do something so mundane seemed to calm him further.
“You’re back then.” Grey eyes flicked up to meet green ones.
“Uh.” Harry couldn’t look away, like Malfoy had put some sort of spell on him.
“I take that as a yes.” He closed the book, putting it away somewhere. “This is the second time you haven’t noticed me following you. It’s almost like you want to be caught.”
“I did. Notice you that is. Well, I knew someone was chasing me.” Harry straightened his posture, not wanting to seem out of order in front of Malfoy of all people. It earnt him an unamused look. Considering the state of his uniform, Harry didn’t know why he even tried.
“I wasn’t chasing you. That makes me sound desperate.” He rolled his eyes. “What happened to make you..?” He gestured in Harry’s direction.
“Why do you care all of a sudden?” This was still Malfoy after all. The blood purist, pompous bully who made his life hell. Malfoy who was put under Imperius.
“I-“
“When was it?” Harry cut in; he remembered now. He needed to know if what he saw concerning him was true. If it wasn’t, then he could relax about the Burbage situation. If it was, then he could freak out about it later.
“Excuse me?” Malfoy looked irritated at being cut off, but somewhat relieved.
“The Imperius. You- the curse.” Harry scoffed in frustration. Now of all times he couldn’t get words into a sentence. However, the other boy seemed to understand him well enough.
“You saw.” He stood upright, “then you know I had no choice. I didn’t want to do it, I swear. I begged for anything else. I tried to snap my own wand to avoid it. My efforts were futile. He threatened to drive my mother insane, put her under the cruciatus curse for good measure. He was going to kill my father. He told him to punish me, he couldn’t. So, he suffered under the curse too. It carried on until I-
Harry, he doesn’t care about what I want, what any of us want. He lives to keep on living. He kills to further his power. He doesn’t want equals; he wants followers to kill and torture those he can’t be arsed to deal with. Those who don’t agree with him, even the purebloods who just want to live in peace. He wants them all dead.
Harry, I can’t do it anymore, I didn’t want any part of it in the first place and I certainly don’t now. I didn’t want to do it. I need you to know. You have to know; you have to believe me. Please.”
Malfoy was falling apart in front of Harry’s very eyes. He was becoming more desperate by the second, practically begging him. This is not what he expected, nor what he had meant when he wished Malfoy would suffer the consequences of his actions. He didn’t know what to do. The tears that had refused to fall during his speech fell now, clinging to his eyelashes. Malfoy blinked and breathed heavily, searching Harry’s face for something, anything.
“I believe you.” Malfoy’s shoulders sagged, he leant on the wall once more. Rubbing his face to try and hide his tears. “I believe you Malfoy.”
Harry looked Draco over, he had clearly lost weight. Usually, he was sharp but muscular. Now he was simply skin and bones. There were dark circles under his eyes, along with small, healing cuts on his face.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” The blonde was looking at him again, he looked so much older than the sixteen-year-old he was. He seemed uncomfortable, as though he was in constant pain. Yet, he was smiling slightly. Not the evil smirk or cruel grin Harry was used to. A small, genuine smile, that was directed at Harry. He couldn’t help but give one back.
They looked at each other for a moment, before alarm bells rang in Harry’s head once again.
“Burbage.”
“The Muggle Studies professor?” Harry nodded.
“When did you last see her?” Malfoy looked away, clearly thinking.
“This morning, during breakfast. Blaise said she wasn’t in class a few hours ago, leaving some hopeless first years to fend for themselves.” He smirked slightly, imagining the young students panicking.
“I think he’s got her. It’s why I asked about, you know, that.” Malfoy nodded, no longer smiling.
“I can ask Se- someone, if he does. Leave it with me.” He turned to the door, unlocking it. “Harry. If he does have her, don’t try and save her. By the time you get there, it’ll be too late.”
“I won’t just let her die.”
“I know that.” He glanced at Harry, “and so does he.”