Fizzing Whizzbees
He didn’t want to accept it. He just wanted his last school year to be quiet and to end soon. To just keep his head low, pass as many N.E.W.T.S as he could, and get the hell out of England.
But the game was against Gryffindor and…It just brought back old memories of better, easier days. And he just missed flying so much. He missed the wind, the speed, and the challenge of it all.
Draco missed the cheers too. The attention. Because he was pathetic like that. Hungry, craving and always wanting. And apparently, that part of him wasn’t beaten out of him by life yet.
Because of all that and possibly his own stupidity, he bloody accepted.
Now there he was, about a thousand or more metres in the air with the whole school watching him.
When the third Bludger flew past him, way too close to be accidental, Draco knew he was there to be laughed at, he was the spectacle, not the match.
You did say you liked attention. Even if it’s this kind. His delightfully kind mind reminded him. He couldn’t help but to sneer at his own thoughts.
But he was stubborn too, and somehow still had some pride (or stupidity) left in him to not flee the match. He was going to win it.
A Bludger flew in his direction and he noticed one of his team Beaters did nothing to stop it. With a quick flip on his broom, he easily dodged that one and moved higher into the sky. He caught a spot of red near.
Potter.
Forgetting about the rogue Bludgers and Quafflers, he focused on finding the Snitch. Never in his years playing had he felt this pressure to win and he was used to being under such constant pressure, and yet this felt different, worse somehow
Of course, this wouldn’t be a quiet year.
\\\
Harry would deny until the day he died (for the second time) how excited he was when he heard that Malfoy was going to be Seeker for today’s game.
It didn’t take much to convince Headmaster McGonagall to let 8th Years play on the Quidditch teams. Harry was, of course, the first to try out and get in. He declined the offer to be Capitan, happy to just be a Seeker. He wanted more than anything to just enjoy the games.
The wind, the speed, the challenge.
Well, challenge not so much. They played well, the other teams, but the Seekers left much to be desired. Harry wasn’t quite sure if he was just that good (which brought a nice feeling) or if they just let him win (which would be rubbish, if you asked him). Even the matches with Slytherin left him disappointed, it was always just missing something .
When they told them that Malfoy would be filling in for their Seeker, Harry agreed a tad too fast to be casual but really, who cared?
This game would prove whether Harry was that good or if people had been letting him win. Everyone had been treating Harry as if he was made out of glass since the war ended, either that or praising him to the point that Harry wanted to punch them. But if he did that, they would probably thank him for it. They treated him as if he was Merlin’s gift. He hated it. He just wanted to feel like a normal human being again.
This game could be different .
This game could be an actual challenge .
…or at least he hoped so.
Malfoy had been keeping a suspiciously low profile this year, well , these past two months. It’s not like Harry was actively stalking him or anything, but the Slytherin table was right in front of him every day for every meal . His gaze just naturally went there, obviously. Besides, in a sea of black, green, and bricks, that pale hair stood out! And with the window behind him, it basically glowed .
So yeah, Harry wasn’t seeking him out. Seeking a Seeker. Harry snorted.
Anyway, Malfoy had been looking very…very…unresponsive? Just walking through the castle as if he was just another ghost and it was weird. He had even felt the impulse to snap at him, to yell at him, to push him, to make him react. He hadn't, of course, but he had felt that weird urge regardless.
So when Harry heard that Malfoy was playing as a Seeker, he got excited. Malfoy had always been a challenge and every victory against him always felt great. Especially, with the knowledge that Malfoy would never willingly let him win anything.
He did have a twitch of panic when they told them, because what if Malfoy would be just as unresponsive in the field as he was in the halls? But all that doubt faded when he saw him walking in full Quidditch uniform, broom casually hanging over his shoulder with a prideful stride that while not as dramatic and purposeful as his younger self, still promised Harry a challenge.
It was great! Or it had been going on great until he noticed the unusual amount of balls that were going in Malfoy's direction. As a Seeker, a good strategy was to keep your eyes as much on the other Seeker as in the field. So it did not gone unnoticed by Harry how many times Malfoy had to dodge a Bludger.
One of the Slythering’s Beaters had been right there!
And then some Quaffles flew by and that was totally not normal either.
Then Malfoy was diving down fast and Harry went after him. Just then catching the soft gleam of the Snitch.
All thoughts gone but one.
Catch.
\\\
Draco dived in the movement he saw the gleam, then he heard the flutter getting louder, closer.
He needed to catch it. He needed to.
His attention was so focused on the Snitch that he barely even registered Potter getting closer to him.
He didn’t register the Bludger until it was hitting him so hard on his right side and at such a speed that he lost grip of his broom, the Bludger pushing him off against the stands.
Well, not quite the stands. Potter and his incredible timing were just by his side when the Bludger pushed Draco off his broom right into Potter. And the thing must’ve been going fast because it also knocked Potter off his broom, slamming him against the Ravenclaw stands.
\\\
He was falling. Fast. And then he wasn’t. He was half suspended in the air holding an unconscious Malfoy while he was gently being lowered down. His whole body hurt. Something was definitely broken. From what he could see of Malfoy, he did not look any better.
Harry let his body sag as he was levitated down, just managing to hear a Slytherin loudly whispering to someone in the stands.
“You hit Potter, idiot!”
Everything went black the second he touched the ground.
\\\
His body still ached when he woke up. He didn’t bother opening his eyes yet, because he could tell from smell alone where he was.
That familiar sharp antiseptic scent.
Yep, he was in the hospital wing. Fucking great . He lasted two months. Two.
Seamus must be either losing or winning a lot of money at the moment and he‘d better buy Harry some chocolates with that money, maybe even a caramel apple.
Chocolates, Apples, Quidditch… Malfoy!
Harry opened his eyes, patted around until he found his glasses, and sat up so fast his whole body protested. He felt his head spin but he just needed to know. He stood up fast, dizziness causing him to stumble, as he walked. There was only one more bed in use with the curtains drawn up. So he worked his way over there and almost ripped off the curtain to see if-
There he was. Still asleep, still alive. Barely , it seemed, Malfoy was not left unscathed. His left arm was all wrapped, the same as his whole torso. And his face…he would look so peaceful if it wasn’t for the stark almost black bruises on his left cheekbone that went almost all the way to his temple. He even had a few scratches on his face. All that and he just hit into Harry . Well, and Harry guessed the Bludger had hit straight into Malfoy.
But Merlin, how would he look if Harry hadn't softened his fall?
He looked so pale too. Well, paler than usual and the blueyish glow from the diagnosis spells were not helping. Harry winced, the fall now catching up to him. He was so sore.
And it had been on purpose. Harry was no stranger to Quidditch accidents and he was also no stranger to direct attacks.
The assholes had to come and ruin the first real game he had this year.
Harry dropped onto his own bed, seething.
He just couldn’t have anything going on for him, could he? He saved the whole wizarding world and he couldn’t have ONE decent Quidditch game without someone ruining it for him.
Worst part? They ruined it because of Malfoy. Malfoy of all people. And they had made Harry care about the git.
Well not care but like get angry on his behalf and he knew Malfoy was not well-liked but still. They all had done shitty stuff and if Harry could put it behind him, then everyone else could too.
Harry laid back down, carefully now, and sighed, staring at the ceiling.
He knew the guy that whispered before Harry passed out, well, he didn't know his name but recognized his face. He wasn’t part of Malfoy’s old gang, he wasn’t an 8th Year so he must be in 7th Year. Maybe Harry needed to have a friendly chat with the prat. Just to get him to back the fuck up.
Wait a second…
It was only him and Malfoy in the hospital wing…so their Seeker probably wasn’t sick so it proved it was all planned. Those bastards!
Maybe he could tell McGonagall? Let an adult deal with it? Someone else must have noticed it too, right?
Harry groaned.
Would that even help? They did a whole speech about house unity and all that rubbish. But obviously it didn’t work.
And what? They would just punish them? Harry knew that would only make the guy more upset. He and Malfoy fought all the time and it never improved anything between them to punish them.
But this year…this year there had been zero confrontations between them. Which should have been nice. Because this was supposed to be a nice, normal, and quiet year.
So why the fuck couldn’t the others just leave the prick alone? Harry did it just fine. And he had every reason to not.
Yet here he was, not bothering the prat. He even testified in his trial! Why was it, they took his word as gospel with absolutely everything else and yet this was a problem?
If he could play nice, then the rest of the school could too. They could leave him be and allow Harry to have a proper Quidditch match. He just wanted one good Quidditch match. He just wanted people to leave him alone. To not get in his way. To just fuck right off.
He could feel a familiar anger bubbling up inside him, the anger he worked all summer to calm down. Because he was fine, he really was. He worked through his issues, went to a mind Healer, kept a balanced diet, a good workout routine, he interacted with people, went out with his friends, went back to Hogwarts, kept up with his schoolwork… He was fine, totally fine, completely fine. He took one deep breath. Fine, fine, fine .
He went to the trials, did the interviews, accepted the rewards, attended the galas, smiled for the cameras and shook their hands. Another shaky breath. He played his part and played it well. It should be enough.
Fine, fine, fine .
Merlin, he felt so tense. His chest was taunt, as if something was weighing him down, almost choking him. The intensity of his anger shocked him. But he had it under control, everything was under control. Because he was fine.
Fine, fine, fine .
All that work and all he wanted in return was one good Quidditch match. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it? It was a pretty small fucking ask after all the shit he put up with, after all the work he did, after everything he gave them. After everything, everyone , he had lost.
He gave, gave, gave and they took, took, took .
A deep, shaky exhaled breath and clenched fists.
Why did they keep wanting more? Always more. He gave them everything and now he had to give up the only decent Quidditch game he’d had all year?
And it was probably the only one he’d get, since Malfoy wasn’t their official Seeker. Slytherin’s official Seeker sucked. All of them sucked. Malfoy was the only one who was able to challenge him, the beginning of the game had been so good, so freeing.
Harry had been worried that Malfoy would be as unresponsive as he had been since the year started but that was not the case. Malfoy hadn’t held back. He pushed, tricked, taunted. It was like old times but so much better. He wouldn’t let Harry win like the other Seekers who never got too close to Harry. They would apologise after the game if they had so much as accidentally grazed him during the games.
Not Malfoy. Harry was sure that if they had finished the game, Malfoy wouldn’t have gone to apologise. And not because he was incapable of doing so. He’d apologised to Harry after the trials and he knew that during the summer Malfoy apologised to quite a few people, including Hermione.
Malfoy wasn’t bothering anyone. He kept his head low and his mouth shut. And as unsettling as that was, it gave no one the right to mess with him.
Actually, if anyone had the right to be upset with Malfoy, it was Harry. Only Harry. Malfoy had been his nemesis, his rival since first year. Their animosity was known by everyone in Hogwarts, and even known by some people outside of school.
Everyone knew that Malfoy was his to be angry at. What gave the others the right to mess with him? To mess with Harry’s nice normal quiet life?
A sudden exhaustion washed over him, it did little to nothing to calm down his anger but it made him feel tired enough to sleep. He let his eyes close, promising himself that he would deal with this the moment they let him out of the infirmary.
\\\
He didn’t want to open his eyes. The sun was on him and Draco immediately knew where he was. He could never forget the feeling. The feeling of the thin light blue pyjamas, the uncomfortable mattress and rough sheets. The smell too, that characteristic antiseptic scent that was left from the disinfectant charm they used to clean the bed area. The dittany , he would never forget that scent. It made his stomach clench, fathom pain all across his chest. He took a shaky breath and pressed his lips together, flinching at the taste. Ugh, gross, Skele-Gro. Brilliant. He must be beaten up pretty badly if they had to pull out the strong potions.
He really didn’t want to open his eyes because that would make it real. They would either ask him what happened or they would ignore it. Probably the latter. They got him pretty good, maybe this satiated his attackers need to hurt him. Or maybe due to the lack of consequences, next time would be worse. Draco tried to move a bit and a sharp pain on his right side stopped him, making him gasp.
He would have to face the day eventually. Come on, you have faced worse things.
Although he wanted to delay the start of the day as much as possible, Pomfrey opened the curtains and walked over to him, Draco acted as if he was still asleep.
“Come on, Mister Malfoy. I know you are awake.”
He let out a dramatic sigh and opened his eyes. “What-” His voice was rough, his throat felt so dry and scratchy. Pomfrey got him a glass of water with a straw and once he felt his throat was less raw, he gave talking another go. He sounded marginally better when he asked:
“What happened?”
“Quidditch accident.” Pomfrey put the glass on the night table next to his bed and ran a few diagnosis spells. “A nasty one too. A Bludger hit you midair and threw you off your broom. Luckily for you and unluckily for him, Harry Potter was just by your side when it happened and softened the fall.” She looked over at the vials.
“Potter? Is he here too?”
“I won’t have you two fighting in my hospital wing.” Pomfrey threw him a warning look. “He is on a bed far away, he is pretty beaten up as well.”
Malfoy glanced at the only bed beside his own that had the curtains drawn up. He didn’t know what face he made but Pomfrey seemed to soften up.
“He is okay. He has to stay one more day and he might be able to leave.”
She mixed something on a cup and turned to fully face him. “You might have to stay a while longer. Here, drink up. It will help with the pain.” Draco drank it all, making a face at the taste. Pomfrey kindly handed him water and he quickly finished the whole glass.
“Now, you need to eat.” She moved a small table closer to Draco, there was a big bowl of soup, some toast and something else that looked like apple sauce. “One of the reasons that you got so hurt is because you are lacking nutrients, young man.”
Draco rolled his eyes but started eating the soup eagerly, while still maintaining proper etiquette, he was not an animal.
“I’m giving you a daily potion with extra vitamins and some supplements. Hopefully, it’ll bring you back into shape.”
He held back a sigh and nodded, continuing to eat, so he didn’t have to talk.
“The Headmistress will come and talk with you later.”
Draco’s head snapped up to look at her, the sudden movement made him feel a bit dizzy but he still managed to force out.
“Why?”
“To get a feeling of what happened.”
“It was an accident.” Said Draco a bit too harshly. Pomfrey sighed softly and made him drink another mysterious vial.
“It’s okay…Draco. Finish up eating so you can sleep for a bit.”
The use of his name seemed to drain all the fight out of him. He quietly finished up the soup, bread and applesauce. He laid back down and let Pomfrey accommodate him one more time.
“There we go…how is the pain?”
“...manageable, it’s just an ache.” He must be on some damn good painless potions.
“Alright then, I will let you rest.”
Draco nodded, he watched her walk away, closing the curtains on her way out. He tried to stay awake, he really did. But Pomfrey must have slipped some Dreamless Draught with those vitamins because he couldn’t stay awake more than a few seconds after Pomfrey was gone.
\\\
Sadly, he couldn’t sleep forever. And Pomfrey didn’t have the decency to let him act as if he was.
“It’s okay, Minerva, he is awake.”
Draco sighed, sitting up and wincing a bit. He tried to make himself look more presentable but moving proved to be too painful, so he gave up. Might as well get this shit over with.
“Yes, I am awake.”
The curtain was drawn, revealing a very serious-looking McGonagall with Pomfrey behind her. Slughorn was there too. Great . They must think Draco did this on purpose.
“Mister Malfoy, how are you feeling?” McGonagall asked him with a cold politeness that Draco was very familiar with. She didn’t hate him. Draco knew that. But she didn’t like him either. Most likely pitied him, which Draco wasn’t sure if he preferred that more than if she just didn’t care about him at all.
“I’ve had better days.” Draco answered with the same cold politeness, although he could admit the phrasing was a bit bratty. But he was tired, sore and in no mood to be questioned.
At least it’s not Aurors…
He straightened at the thought, he looked at the small audience and decided to speed it up.
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
“We just want to know a bit more about the incident, that’s all.”
“I fell off my broom.”
McGonagall took a deep breath through her nose, glancing at Slughorn and then back at Draco.
“We just want to know a few more details, that’s all.”
“Well, I was going after the Snitch.” Draco’s face remained unphased. “And then I fell.”
“It looked different from the stands.” Slughorn spoke. It was the first time he had even looked at him this year. He remained at a careful distance from Draco during Potions class and Draco was more than okay with that. “We are just trying to straighten up the story, a lot of people saw a lot of things-”
“Is this about Potter?”
They glanced at each other. Of course.
“You think I crashed into him on purpose?”
“It’s not that-” Slughorn started but McGonagall cut him off.
“We just want to know what exactly happened.”
“What happened is that I got a broken arm and three bruised ribs!” Draco sat up and showed them his bandaged arm. “You think I planned this? What would the purpose be? What would I win with this? Nothing!” Draco leaned back down, the sharp pain on his side flared up. “I went for the Snitch, lost my balance and fell. And Potter was there. Wrong place, wrong time. Nothing more, nothing less.”
They looked at him for a moment. McGonagall seemed upset. Well how would she not be? After that ridiculous outburst of his. Oh Merlin, what if they call the Aurors? Shit. Oh shit. How could you be so stupid?
“I’m sorry.” Draco said, swallowing a bit. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. You…you could say I’m a bit under the weather but that’s no excuse for my behaviour.” He looked at them. Oh fuck, they looked upset. “I apologise.”
“You are not in trouble, Mister Malfoy.” McGonagall finally spoke, her voice surprisingly soft and warm. Draco almost wanted to lean into her. “We just want to know if it was more than an accident.”
Draco looked down and shook his head. “It was an accident.” Ugh, why are they still looking at him like that? “Between us, I’m a bit out of practice at flying at such speed. I slipped.”
They glanced at each other again . Are they using Legilimency or something? He checked his Occlumency walls just in case.
“Alright, Mister Malfoy,” said McGonagall. “We will let you rest.”
Fucking finally.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
When they left, he managed to get a glimpse of the outside, the other bed was empty. Still a mess. Potter must have left recently.
Go and interview him.
Draco laid back down, wincing. Pomfrey came back not long after they left. She did the standard diagnosis spells and made him down another disgusting potion.
“This will make you feel sleepy, so best not fight it.” Pomfrey said while looking at the diagnosis spells. As disgusting as the potion was, it did wonders for the pain. “You will have to stay one extra day, just to be sure. I will have someone bring you whatever schoolwork you missed.”
Draco sighed softly, feeling the tiredness slip in just as she had said. “Alright…thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” He felt his eyes close, slowly falling asleep.
\\\
“So you are just going to do nothing?”
“Harry, he said it was an accident.” McGonagall said, again . As if it meant something. As if it was enough of a reason to do nothing.
“And you believe him?”
“Do you think this was an attempt against you?”
“No!” Harry said, a bit harsher than he meant to but it was just so infuriating. “No. But it wasn’t an accident either.”
“There is not much that I can do if mister Malfoy insists that it was an accident.” McGonagall looked at him with worry. Which wasn’t the goal here. Harry was fine. He was fine, he really was fine. Just a bit pissed, that’s all. And that’s normal. Normal people get upset about things. Like this for example. This was a totally normal thing to be upset about.
“Fine.” Harry said through gritted teeth. He grabbed a few biscuits as he stood up. “Thank you for your time, Headmistress.” And he walked out, shoving the biscuits in his mouth.
Maybe he should let it go…
But then he heard some third years joking about it and…and it made him. Well why were they laughing? What made them think that it was funny? They weren’t laughing about him. They were laughing at Malfoy. And it was just so…so…
He found himself walking in direction to the hospital wing. Why? He didn’t know. But he guessed that’s just how he lived his life, not knowing things.
“Madam Pomfrey!” He saw her hurriedly walking through the hallway, carrying a few scrolls and books.
“Oh, Mister Potter, it’s everything okay?”
“Yeah. Do you need help?” Harry nodded at the books.
“Oh, would you take this to Mister Malfoy? I got called for some emergency-” She stopped mid sentence and narrowed her eyes. “You won’t cause trouble, right?”
This was his chance.
“Of course not. I want a quiet year.” He took the books and scrolls with his most innocent smile. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.” His smile seemed to win her over or she really was just too busy at the moment to care.
“Mmhm. Well, just tell Mister Malfoy, this is the schoolwork he will need to catch up.” Harry glanced at the heavy books. “Thank you, Mister Potter.” Pomfrey quickly walked away. Must be a very big emergency .
Good. Harry thought. Got him an excuse to talk to Malfoy.
He walked to the infirmary wing, and headed to the only bed with the curtains drawn. He stood in front of them awkwardly. The reality of it just catching up to him.
Godric, what was he doing? Just randomly bringing Malfoy’s his homework? Also, who has homework on the weekend? This is insanity.
“Just come in already.” Malfoy’s voice made him jump, almost dropping one of the heavy tomes on his foot.
“Shit.” He muttered. Well, whatever, he was here. He awkwardly pushed the curtain with his elbow.
“Just leave-” Malfoy looked up and froze, clearly not expecting Harry of all people to bring him his homework.
It was…strange to say the least. The whole situation. They stared at each other for a moment. Malfoy looked so…unkempt. Well, his hair was a bit messy for him, tousled from having his head on the pillow. The bruises on his cheekbones seemed to be darker but it had some sort of paste on top that would surely take care of it. But nothing could hide the bags under his eyes and how pale his skin was…paler than usual, because that was somehow possible. Malfoy’s cheeks were starting to turn pink as he bit his lower lip, his eyes darting around before setting back on Harry.
“Potter. Can I…help you?”
Damn, Malfoy looked so tense.
“Homework, I brought you your homework.” Harry used his foot to drag the little table closer and dumped the books and scrolls on top. He decided for a more straightforward approach to all of this. Given his past experiences, that tended to work fairly well most of the time. “How do you have this much homework already? It’s only Sunday.” He dragged a chair over and sat down, looking at the books. “What’s this?”
“...The book we are reviewing in Runes.” Malfoy answered tentatively.
“You got Runes on Sundays?” Harry put the book down and checked the others. “I think Hermione has Runes on Mondays.”
“...I have to stay here on Monday.” Malfoy looked at the books and then at Harry. “Pomfrey was supposed to bring these.” He seemed to be coming out of the shock.
“Oh yeah, I ran into her in the hallway. She seemed in a hurry so I offered to help her.” Harry said as casually as he could, leaning back into the chair. “So this is also Transfiguration and Charms, right?”
“Yes.” Draco sighed, running his good hand through his hair, messing it up more. It looked better that way, he seemed softer and more approachable without all that gel. “Potter. What do you want?” Harry blinked back out of his thoughts and realised he must have been staring.
“Me?”
“No. The other Potter in the room.” Draco sneered at him. “What do you want?”
“Can’t I just be here because I’m being nice?”
“No.”
Harry rolled his eyes. He was about to talk when Malfoy interrupted him.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“What wasn’t?”
“The fall. It wasn’t my fault. So if you think I planned it to hurt you or whatever, I did not.”
“I know.”
“And if you think-” Malfoy’s face turned confused, he tilted his head to the side slightly. “You know?” Harry nodded. “Then why are you here? What do you want?”
“To check up on you maybe? It was a nasty fall.” Harry crossed his arms and got comfortable in his chair. “I should know, I was there. I’m fine by the way. Just a dislocated shoulder that they had to fit back into my socket real quick. Thank you for asking.”
Malfoy’s face twitched a bit but then became impassive…cold and…beyond serious. It was unsettling. “I should have asked. I’m glad you’re better.” He spoke with a detached tone that cut right through Harry in a way that he couldn't describe. Malfoy was acting as he had before the match, lifeless, unresponsive.
“You look… rough.”
A twitch. But his expression stayed the same.
“I am aware of that. You did catch me off guard.” Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “I was not expecting visitors.”
“Hmm. Oops.” Harry smirked, and that got him an eye roll from Malfoy. He pulled the book closer to him.
“I can come back tomorrow. Tell you what happened at Charms and Transfiguration.” Harry looked at Malfoy. “We are in those classes together, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Of course I noticed. That birdnest you call hair is very difficult to miss.” Malfoy snarked, without thinking while he checked the books, before he seemed to remember himself and cleared his throat. Then he was back to that despicably neutral tone. “That won’t be necessary. I will be talking with the professors myself.”
“It’s really no bother. I can just swing by before lunch.”
Malfoy’s right eye twitched again. The only thing breaking the perfectly crafted expression he had on. “While I…appreciate your help. I do not want to be an inconvenience.”
“Oh good, because it’s not an inconvenience at all.” Harry said, mimicking his tone.
They stared at each other for a minute or two. A hundred things flashed through Malfoy's eyes. Those grey eyes were so expressive when one looked at them close enough.
“That is very considerate of you but you really don’t need to bother, Potter.” said Malfoy tersely, clearly trying desperately to not snap at Harry. “I would hate to be an imposition. Surely you have many affairs to attend to.” Harry could feel the insult at the tip of Malfoy’s tongue. He wanted Malfoy to crack so badly.
“Oh, but-”
Harry was rudely interrupted by the door, opening harshly, letting in a group of First’s Years followed by Pomfrey. There must have been a Potion incident because they were bright green. Pomfrey met his eyes and frowned.
“Potter, visiting hours are over. I need you to clear the infirmary.”
Harry stood up, looking back at Malfoy who still had that annoying neutral expression.
“You heard, Madam Pomfrey.” Malfoy was fighting a smirk. “Clear the room, Potter.” Sadly, he won the fight and managed to keep his facade. “And, I appreciate you bringing my books.”
“See you later, Malfoy.” Harry smirked and walked out, closing the curtain after him.
He would so be back.
\\\
What the actual fuck?
Draco stared at the books on the table in front of him. The whole experience felt like a weird magic-induced vision. Or nightmare. It depended on how dramatic Draco was feeling at the moment. And right now he was feeling tired. The painkiller potions mixed with the bone-generating ones left him feeling woozy. He couldn’t handle studying Runes right now. Especially not after Potter brought him his books?
Potter of all people?
Draco narrowed his eyes and grabbed his wand, ready to check them for spells. Wait, no. Was he allowed to do that? He needed to re-read the conditions on magic use of his parole. He sighed and decided that whatever curse Potter could have put on the books could not be as bad as others he had used on him before.
And he was already in the hospital wing anyway.
So he decided to at least give a quick flipped through the Runes text. See what he would have to catch up on. But the noises the First Years made were unbearable. Were they always this loud? Was he that loud? He probably was. Ugh.
And Potter. The Potter issue wouldn’t leave his mind. Shocking. He rolled his eyes and closed the book.
No way would he let Potter get away with this. He must’ve had some plan against Draco. Was it revenge for falling on him? Seemed a bit far fetched, even for Potter. But whatever, Draco had way too much on his plate to add Potter being a scheming ass to it. He was going to avoid Potter like the plague. Yes, that’s what he was going to do.
He waited until Pomfrey was free to have a word with her.