Chapter 7
“You’re awake.”
Harry opened his eyes. His eyelids were heavy with sleep. He stared at the ceiling, disoriented. His mind felt foggy. Where was he?
“Are you alright?” A posh accent. Short, clipped words. A voice that he hadn’t heard in a long time. A voice that he would recognize anywhere. Malfoy. Harry turned his head towards him. Malfoy looked rather cross. He sat with his arms crossed. His clothes were crumpled and covered in mud. His features were illuminated by the candlelight, his cheeks pink, as if he had spent time in the cold.
Cute.
Wait, what time was it? Harry sat up abruptly, causing pain to shoot up his arm.
“Bloody hell, Potter, slow down!” Malfoy hissed. Harry ignored him.
“You’re talking.” Harry said in disbelief.
“Always one to point out the obvious, Potter.” Malfoy drawled. Harry felt giddy with relief. He began to laugh heartily, which disturbed his injured arm. Malfoy raised a light blond eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally gone mad.”
The smile wouldn’t leave Harry’s face.
“It’s just—” he started, weighing his words. “It’s just good to have you back, I suppose.”
A pause. Malfoy looked surprised. Harry supposed he didn’t blame him. He was surprised himself. If he had told his younger self that there would be a day that he would be relieved to hear Malfoy’s voice, he wouldn’t have believed it. Harry leaned back onto the bed, putting his head on his pillow and taking care not to jostle his arm. After a lengthy silence, he added, “Was beginning to think we’d lost you for good.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Hardly a major loss.” Malfoy mumbled, picking at his fingernails. His posture was rigid and closed off. Harry simply watched, a smile lingering on his lips.
“So,” he started, “care to tell me how I got here? And where is here exactly?”
“You’re in the infirmary. I dragged you here after you fell off your broom. I had to wake Madame Pomfrey in the middle of the night.”
HARRY!
It was Malfoy’s voice he had heard, screaming in the rain. And had he used his actual name?
“How did you find me?”
“At night sometimes—“ Malfoy started, then stopped abruptly. Harry waited patiently. “Sometimes I walk around the grounds when I can’t sleep.” Malfoy fidgeted with his hands, glancing at Harry every so often, gauging his reaction. Did he think he would judge him? In fact, Harry already knew about Malfoy’s nighttime promenades. He had watched his dot on the map several times, pacing back and forth. “I saw you from the courtyard.” Harry raised an eyebrow. Malfoy wouldn’t have been able to see his fall from the courtyard. “I wasn’t stalking you if that’s what you’re thinking. You were the one going flying in a thunderstorm. I thought that—“ He lowered his voice. “I thought that something might be wrong. Anyway, I owe you…” He trailed off. Harry thought that he was done speaking entirely, but he seemed to find his second wind.
“I owe you. Quite a lot actually. Though I’m embarrassed to admit it.” Draco held his hands gingerly in his lap. “Thank you for…for stepping in. With the Gryffindors.” Harry felt a spark of irritation at the mention of those two. “And in potions. And after the library—“
“What happened in the library?”
Malfoy continued as if Harry hadn’t spoken. “Thank you for defending me…at the trial—“ His voice shook.
“Malfoy, you really don’t have to do this—“ Malfoy shook his head vigorously, as if to shake off the doubts.
“I do. Thank you for defending me and my Mother.”
Harry shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.”
“I owe you a life debt.”
“You saved me at the manor.” Draco scoffed, affronted.
“It’s hardly the same, it was just a little lie. You saved me from the firedyne. From Azkaban.“
“You just saved my life, so let’s call it even.”
“You weren’t going to die from a broken arm, Potter.”
Harry sighed. All of a sudden he felt about a hundred years old. “Malfoy, listen to me. I did those things because they were the right thing to do. Not for any prize or eternal gratitude. You don’t owe me anything. Got it?”
“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.” Draco said, exhausted. He looked as though he had been sitting in that chair for a thousand years. Harry grinned, closing his eyes. He suddenly felt a wave of tiredness come over him as well.
“Why did you stop?” Harry breathed, hot air rushing through his lips. Draco looked at him like he had actually gone mad.
“I’m not a Legilimens, Potter.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Talking, I mean.”
Draco’s eyes flitted across the room. The soft pitter patter of rain reverberated through the infirmary. Draco found sudden interest in inspecting his nail beds.
“I had nothing to say, I suppose.” The words tumbled from his lips, rushed and quiet. “Or, rather…” He started, “I didn’t know what to say.” Harry watched as his Adam's apple bobbed in place. A map of freckles, constellations on an expanse of pale skin caught his eye. Suddenly, Ron’s words from earlier popped back into his head.
I had to find out from Ginny that she saw you two sneaking off into the Room of Requirement.
The Room of Requirement. That day, what had he asked for? A refuge, a sanctuary, a place where Malfoy could feel safe. He hadn’t been sneaking off with Malfoy.
But he might like to.