Fancy A Sweet?

“What do you mean he left?”

Okay that came out whinier than Harry intended for it to sound. Pomfrey let out a loud sigh and looked up at the ceiling as if it had all the answer. Godric, no need to be so dramatic for such a simple question. A valid question too. Malfoy was a mess, why wasn’t he in the hospital wing as he should be? As he said he would be. It’s Monday and it took Harry a bunch of lame excuses to manage to slip away from Ron and Hermione to come and…and what? Well, to come to, not check but deliver, yes. Delivered what he promised he would. Someone needed to bring Malfoy his schoolwork. And Harry would gladly do it, because house unity and shit.

“There were too many people in the infirmary and he couldn’t focus. So he went to stay in his dorm.”

“And you let him? He was all messed up.”

“As he is of legal age, I cannot force him to stay.” Pomfrey frowned and looked at Harry. “And I do not have to explain myself to you.” She shushed him away. “Now unless you are either sick or injured, you are in my way. Leave, Mister Potter.”

Harry groaned and walked out of the hospital wing. That prat left! He said he would be there until Monday. But he wasn’t in class. Harry casted a quick Tempus, maybe the library? He gave it a go but knew he wouldn’t find him there. Malfoy was probably in his dorm and Harry didn’t have the new password. An oversight on his part, truly.

Okay so at lunch. He would talk to him at lunch.

“Harry, mate.” Called Ron, who was sitting next to him at the Gryffindor table at lunch. When there were still no signs of Malfoy. That prat. “I’m going to ask you a question,”

“Okay.” answered Harry, distracted, eyes darting around the Slytherin table and the Great Hall doors.

“And if the answer is Malfoy, I’m going to punch you.”

“Hmm.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Malf- Hey!” Harry rubbed his arm where Ron had punched him, finally tearing his eyes away from the Slytherin table to look at his friends. “What the fuck, man?”

“I warned you. Godric, mate. Give it a rest.” Ron served himself some more mashed potatoes. “Didn’t you just want to have a quiet year?”

“I am having a quiet year.”

“No.” Ron looked at him, poked him with his spoon. “You are back to obsessing over Malfoy.” 

“I am not obsessing over Malfoy.”

“You are, Harry.” Agreed Hermione, of course she would take Ron’s side now that they were dating. Harry rolled his eyes.

“What makes you say that? Technically speaking, we haven’t interacted since the year started. Unless you count us crashing into each other midair as an interaction.” Harry knew he sounded defensive. But just casually checking to see if Malfoy was around, did not mean he was obsessing.

“I know you went to see him at the infirmary yesterday.” Hermione said with total certainty.

“Just helped Pomfrey with some books.” He was met with a deadpan look by both of his best friends. “Just that! I didn’t even stay long.”

“Yeah, sure mate.” Ron muttered around a mouth full of potato mash. “And my hair is brown.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Great. 

“I didn’t even talk with the prat.” Harry was back at sounding defensive. “Let’s just change the topic, okay? It’s starting to feel like you guys are obsessing over Malfoy.”

“Alright.” Ron swallowed and down his pumpkin juice before adding. “Wanna go chill outside after lunch?”

“I could study outside.” Hermione smiled. “I got a free period before Runes.” 

Runes. Malfoy was taking that class. He could catch him then.

“Sounds good to me.”

\\\

Malfoy was one slippery bastard.

He couldn’t catch him before or after Runes. He tried the next day and he couldn’t catch him either. Malfoy was always the last to come in and the first to leave. Always hiding in the back of the classroom, tucked away in a corner. Fucking unreachable.

The few times Harry was able to see him, Malfoy did not look much better than he did in the infirmary. The bruises on his cheekbone were fading and by Wednesday it was almost completely gone. He still wore the cast on his left arm though.

Wasn’t he left handed? Must be having trouble taking notes. Maybe Harry could use that as an excuse? Lending his notes to Malfoy? He glanced down at his parchment paper. Yeah…maybe not. He’d have to actually take notes to do that.

On Friday, Malfoy arrived late to Potions. Slughorn very graciously ignored Malfoy as he…limped to his seat? Something happened. Of course, Harry could not ask what happened because even with a limp, the bastard managed to slip away.

\\\

By Monday morning, after Charms. The cast on Malfoy's arm was gone and so was Harry’s patience. The moment Malfoy darted out of the classroom, Harry took after him, ignoring the questioning looks from his friends.

“For Merlin’s sake.” Mafoy turned around, stopping Harry dead in his tracks. “Stop following me.”

“I’m not following you.” Harry scoffed.

“Leave me alone.” Malfoy’s voice was flat but there was a fire starting in his eyes.

“You don’t own the castle, I can go wherever I want.” Harry crossed his arms.

“And that just happened to be where I am?!” 

“In case you haven’t noticed, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” Harry snapped back. “We learnt that in Astronomy, or were you too busy planning some dark magic bullshit instead of paying attention?”

“You fucking prick.” Malfoy spat through gritted teeth, breathing deeply through his nose. His usually perfect uninterested look cracking, being replaced by a deep frown and a glare.

It was exhilarating. It felt normal, it felt right. It made Harry’s blood sing. The shine in Malfoy’s eyes was like before, like it always was right before a fight. The fire was bright and burning.

It was Malfoy who punched first and Harry welcomed the pain. It was weirdly satisfying to know he still could get under Malfoy’s skin. Getting such an unhinged reaction from him. Knowing that only Harry could get him to forget all of his posh pureblood upbringing and make him lose control. Forgoing magic and going straight for the punch, the muggle way. 

Harry punched back, and the fight began. They did not hold back. They fought dirty. Punches, scratches, hair pulling, even biting. It was so freeing. It was as if Harry could finally exhale. 

Somehow they ended up on the floor, wrestling, both struggling to get the upper hand. Luckily for Harry, his effort on appearing normal and working out all through the summer paid off. He was not some scrawny kid anymore. Once he managed to get a good hold of Malfoy, he flipped them, holding Malfoy down who continued struggling against him, never giving up.

Malfoy managed to scratch Harry’s face before Harry got a hold on both his wrists and pinned them down. That was when Malfoy tried to lean up and bite him, still thrashing and squirming, trying to free himself from Harry’s grip. 

Malfoy had always been on the lean side, not weak by any means, but even with all the Quidditch training, he never seemed to bulk up like some of the other Quidditch players. Now he has passed lean and was borderline skeletic. Way too skinny to be healthy. Which made it very easy for Harry to overpower Malfoy.

“I won, Malfoy.”

“Fuck off!”

“Stop squirming! I will let you go when you admit that I won.” Harry smirked, Malfoy stopped thrashing and glared at him, his eyes so full of life. “Come on. Just admit it. I won.”

Malfoy muttered something and Harry’s smirk grew wider, leaning closer.

“What was that?” His face was close to Malfoy’s.

“Fuck you.” Malfoy sneered before slamming his face against Harry’s. It caught Harry off guard enough that he loosened his grip without meaning to. Malfoy, never one to miss an opportunity, bucked up into Harry knocking him off and managed to jump up to his feet. Drawing his wand just as Harry drew his.

They stood still, both panting. What a sight they were, blood dripping from not only their noses but their mouths as well. The air felt almost electric. Buzzing with wild magic. Neither of them was able to tear their eyes away from the other, the tension so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Harry couldn’t stop the smirk forming on his face and he noticed Malfoy’s lip quicked up a bit as well.

“Both of you put down your wands at once!”

One thing you should never do, was startling two boys fresh out of a war. Both turned around at the sound and casted at the same time. Fuck.

Luckily, McGonagall was fast and easily redirected both spells into the wall.

“I cannot believe it. Finding you two fighting like this. I mean, look at the state of yourselves.” She seemed shocked. They couldn’t look that bad, besides it wasn’t like this was a new development with them, actually, they were due for their first fight of the year. That was when Harry felt the blood pouring down his nose, he spared a glance at Malfoy and, yeah well, if he looked just as bad…Not his fault the git’s skin was so pale it bruised if you as much as poked him. Malfoy dropped his wand, his eyes wide as he raised his hands slowly. The fuck-

“I didn’t mean to draw on you, Headmistress. It was a mistake, I…You… I was startled.” Malfoy seemed a bit shaky, the light that Harry had managed to get out of him slowly dimming. “Please just…just take my wand, give me detention, punish me however you see fit but don’t call the Aurors, please.” He took a shaky breath, clearly fighting to keep his voice steady. “I am so sorry. I never meant to-to.. I-”

“Nobody is going to call the Aurors.” Harry went to pick up Malfoy’s wand and hand it over to him. Malfoy didn’t take it. “You dramatic prick.” Harry muttered and rolled his eyes. “Nobody is calling anybody.” He turned to look at McGonagall. “Right?”

She looked at him, then at Malfoy. “No,” She said softly. "Nobody is calling the Aurors,  Mister Malfoy.” Malfoy swallowed and lowered his hands just a bit, Harry was close enough to notice the slight shake on them. This time, Malfoy accepted his wand back. She walked closer to them, assessing them. “We will go to my office to handle this issue.” She waved her hand, ushering them to move and Malfoy flinched. 

He flinched. Honest-to-Merlin flinched. Malfoy didn’t flinch once while they were fighting, he didn’t coward away from Harry. But with McGonagall, he seemed utterly terrified. And McGonagall didn’t seem to know what to do with them which was…not unusual.

“Let's get moving, Malfoy. I don't want to miss lunch because of you.” Harry walked away in the direction of the Headmistress’ office. That seemed to snap Malfoy back into reality, he dropped his hands and followed Harry, keeping his eyes on the ground. McGonagall muttered under her breath as she walked behind them.

It all felt extremely familiar. Harry smiled a bit to himself.

Nice normal quiet year…

\\\

Draco was going to finish off what the Dark Lord-wanker started and kill Potter. Draco needed to keep a low profile this year, not get into any sort of troubles. He could feel the Ministry of Magic breathing down his neck, watching his every move. Just waiting for a reason to kick his ass to Azkaban.

And Draco was not planning on joining his father there any time soon. He told himself that he was going to go to school, be a nice quiet student, pass as many N.E.W.T.S as he could and then be a contributing member of wizard society.

But what did he do instead? Get into a fight. And not with anyone, no. Anyone else, it might not be a major problem. But of course he had to get in a fight with The Boy Who Could Not Mind His Own Damn Business.

They said they wouldn’t call the Aurors. But what if they call the Ministry instead? For fuck’s sake, Potter had blood running down his nose and was doing nothing to stop it. 

While they waited for  McGonagall to open the door, Draco gave Potter his handkerchief to just stop the bleeding already, he was making the whole situation worse. Potter didn’t take the handkerchief at first, giving him a weird look. Draco just pressed it against Potter’s nose, admittedly with more care than he would normally touch Potter, to stop the bleeding. Potter finally got the hint and held the handkerchief against his nose himself, still staring at Draco with an eyebrow quirked in question. He just rolled his eyes and walked inside the Headmistress’s office.

Draco’s stomach was all in knots and he did his best to school his expression to remain neutral. The Headmistress gestured for them to sit, not by her desk but in this little corner she had fixed to have a small table that seemed to be meant for tea, with four armchairs around it. Draco sat down, keeping his back straight as he was taught while Potter sprawled onto the armchair, still holding the handkerchief against his nose, looking as if he did not have a care in the world.

The fucking asshole. 

“I cannot believe you two. After everything that has happened…”  McGonagall took a fortifying breath. “To find you two fighting in the hallway, wands drawn at each other.” She looked at Potter. “Mister Potter, you said you wanted a nice quiet year, This is not nice nor quiet behaviour.” She now moved her attention to Malfoy. “Mister Malfoy, do you understand the severity of this? One of the conditions of your parole is that you do not under any circumstance cast a spell at any student or faculty member, being the only exception that it was required in the class. And even then-”

Potter cleared his throat, raising his hand. “Professor, we didn’t fire any spells at each other. So, technically, Malfoy didn’t break his parole rules.” 

“Well,”  McGonagall stared at him for a moment, looking just as confused as Draco. “Any sort of violence could also be considered a violation of his parole.”

“Violence? What violence? There was no violence.”

“How do you explain your wounds then, Mister Potter?”

“I tripped.” Harry smirked. “Luckily Malfoy was there to soften my fall.”

 McGonagall pressed her lips together in a tight line, looking at the two of them before settling on Draco.

“Is that so, Mister Malfoy?”

Draco glanced at Harry who raised an eyebrow at him, he looked back at the Headmistress.“...well he softened my fall in Quidditch, it is only fair that I returned the favour.”

McGonagall looked up at the ceiling as if it could give her patience and took a deep breath, closing her eyes a second before opening them and giving them a serious look. She seemed to be caught off guard by them, probably never imagining she would have to handle them working together.

“Six days of detention. Professor Slughorn needs help polishing the cauldrons, I will speak with him.”

Well…that was better than rotting in Azkaban, that's for sure. But if the Ministry found out…even if it was just detention…

“I don’t think it is necessary to tell anyone at the Ministry about this detention, Mister Malfoy.”  McGonagall said lightly as if reading his thoughts. Legilimency? He would have felt it. “It’s just because you were out of class. No point in making a fuss out of that.”

Draco just nodded, still a bit shaken with the idea of the Aurors coming to toss him in a cell to rot.

“No more fighting.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Smirked Potter. McGonagall looked at him for a while longer before sighing again.

“Grab a biscuit, go to the hospital swing to get checked up and go to class.”

“Will do.” Potter stood up, smiling as he grabbed some of the biscuits. Draco only grabbed one, to be polite.

“Thank you, Headmistress.”

Halfway down to the hospital swing, Draco turned to head to the dungeons and of course, Potter had something to say about it.

“Where are you going? We are supposed to go to Pomfrey’s.”

“I’m perfectly capable of doing my own healing charms.” 

“You still have class.” Potter remined.

Draco stopped walking and sighed, turning half way to face Potter. “I left my Runes books at my dorm, which I was on my way to pick up before some prick stopped me and-” Draco shook his head and looked away. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Potter. Leave me alone.”

“But-”

“Leave me alone!” Draco walked faster, glad that Potter wasn’t following him for once.

\\\

Okay, Harry did feel a bit guilty for getting them both in trouble. There was no way McGonagall believed that he tripped. Absolutely no way.

“Yeah, clumsy me.” Harry said to Pomfrey when he arrived there. Pomfrey also did not believe him but did not comment on his bullshit. McGonagall must have told her to let him be. 

Once Pomfrey healed him and left to get a potion for something, Harry wasn’t listening, he was too busy looking at the blood stained handkerchief. Of course Malfoy would be the type to be carrying around handkerchieves. He ran his finger through the fabric, feeling the embroidered ‘D.L.M’, there was also some sort of shape embroidered on it, that intrigued Harry. At first, Harry thought it was a crest, like a family crest the royal family had. The Malfoy’s seemed like the type to have something like that. But upon further inspection though, it looked more like a dragon. It made Harry smile for some reason.     

Harry hid the handkerchief in his pocket when Pomfrey came back. He drank the potion, endured the talk about being more careful and taking care of himself, and went to class. On his way there, he took the handkerchief out of his pocket and carefully spelled the blood out until it was perfectly clean.

And put it back in his pocket.

\\\

Draco took advantage of the fact that everyone was at lunch and he had the dorm all to himself to work on the wounds that The Prick Who Decided To Be A Pain In His Ass did to his body. Luckily, during the war he perfected his ability to heal superficial wounds.

He carefully spelled away the already forming bruises on his face. Then he worked on his hands, healing his bleeding knuckles and, Merlin, his wrists were bruised too? Draco looked closer and indeed, there on each of his wrists were handprint bruises forming. He cursed his pale skin as he made the bruises fade away.

Potter was such a brute.

He checked himself in the mirror and groaned. His hair was a mess and his shirt had blood stains. Was it his or Potter’s? The thought made him so uncomfortable he Incendio the shirt after taking it off.

Once he got redressed, he checked himself in the mirror again. Ugh. He needed to eat more, he looked pathetic. As he ran his hand through his hair he decided to give it a trim. He preferred it short, and didn't bother with gel any longer. It wasn’t a perfect pristine look but he couldn’t be bothered to work that much on his hair anymore. It was still one of his best assets though.

He cast a quick Tempus and threw on a wandless ironing charm on his clothes. Draco had checked the conditions of his parole. Some everyday spells were okay, like Lumos, Tempus, Scourgify and so on. Anything more complex than that outside of the classroom was a hard no. And he could only do the spells they were practising in class, and even then he had to be careful because the teachers could go and report him to the Aurors anyways.

Fuck this was stressful. Draco took on a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror.

Listen here you little piece of shit, you’ve had worse years and survived them. You will not let this year defeat you.

After that inspiring pep-talk, he put his Rune book in his bag and went to grab something quickly to eat on his way to Runes. 

\\\

Harry went to meet his friends with a smile on his face. And that, apparently, was the most shocking thing he had done because everyone stopped mid chew to stare at him.

“What?”

Hermione slowly put her fork and knife down. “Harry…” She talked to him as if he was some scared animal.

“What?”

“You have blood on your shirt.”

Harry glanced down and surely enough, he had some blood on his collar, down to his chest. But it wasn’t much, just some drops. “Oh yeah, I tripped and got a nosebleed.” He sat down next to Ron and piled up his plate, starving. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Harry dipped a bread roll in the gravy before eating it. “I went to Pomfrey’s.”

Hermione didn’t seem convinced but Ron made some sort of gesture to her and she dropped the subject. That was this new quirky (annoying) thing they did, communicate through gestures that Harry could not understand. 

“Anyway, mate. Seamus, Dean and I were planning a game of cards after dinner.”

“Oh, I can’t go.” He got a general groan from the table. “I got detention.”

“What did you do, Harry?” Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, more worried than annoyed. Harry preferred her annoyed.

“Wrong place, wrong time. I just have to polish some cauldrons. ‘s not a big deal.”

“Harry-”

“Can we change the subject?” He snapped his smiling falling off, Hermione frowned but Ron raised both his hands. Happy to ignore Harry’s small outburst. Small mercies, god bless him.

“Got anything to do now? We have a free period.”

“Maybe a nap.”

“Maybe work on your Charms paper.” Hermione suggested. “It’s due on Friday and it’s a long one.”

Both Harry and Ron groaned. Because, as usual, she was right. 

“Will you help us?”

“I got Runes.”

Ron tried sweet talking to Hermione, only managing to make her blush for all his efforts. It was adorable and awful. He tuned them out and his eyes naturally drifted to the Great Hall door. And a flash of white hair. Malfoy rushed inside, grabbed two green apples, a sandwich and downed a cup of what Harry guessed was pumpkin juice before leaving. He had fixed himself, his hair and clothes pristine as if their encounter had never happened.

“Harry.”

“Yeah?” Harry looked back at Hermione.

“You need to take your classes seriously. You need good N.E.W.T.S to get into the Auror’s Training Program.”

Right, the Aurors. Of course. N.E.W.T.S, right. But they knew he really didn’t need them to get into the program, they would have accepted him last year if he had asked. Same with Ron. But Hermione made them come back, to follow the regular procedure. Which Harry found out he didn’t mind, he liked Hogwarts and it felt nice to wait a bit before starting the Auror Training.

“Alright. Charm’s essay it is.”

\\\

Runes was brutal. His head was killing him and the cherry on top of it all was that now he had to endure detention with Potter under Slughorn of all people. Okay, maybe Slughorn wasn’t that bad, he was one of the few professors that didn’t despise him. Or if he did, it didn’t show. Which Draco was grateful for.

Potter was another issue.

The git had been all up his business since the accident. He needed to stay as far from Potter as he could. That was the plan. A simple plan, honestly.

That he, in a very true Draco nature, fucked up.

Potter was already outside the Potion’s classroom, casually leaning against the wall. He had taken off the robe and tie, because uniform seemed to be beneath The Prat Who Stinks. His face seemed to light up when he saw Draco. But that must have been a trick of the lights or something because that wouldn’t make any sense.

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.”

Potter pushed himself off the wall and gestured to the door. Malfoy rolled his eyes and knocked on the door, which opened magically. Slughorn was in the middle of the classroom, finishing something up.

“Okay boys.” He turned to face them. “The Headmistress put me in charge of your detention.” He paused as if waiting for a reply but continued when they stayed quiet. “Well, it shouldn’t be difficult, you see, I got the Third Years working on a potion that completely destroys the cauldrons so, I will have you coming to polish them once a week for 6 weeks.”

Both of them opened their mouths to protest but Slughorn stopped them by raising a hand, Draco fought the urge to flinch. “Orders from the Headmistress herself.” He looked at Potter. “I’m sorry Harry, I couldn’t convince her to let you go.” Draco also suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Good, I deserve the detention.” Potter surprised them both, Slughorn nodded, looking rather confused.

“Yeah, well. There are the cauldrons, just polish as many as you can. Until 8:30pm. That’s one hour. If you don’t finish, you can come and finish them tomorrow.”

“Yes, thanks, Professor.” 

“Oh, it is important to do it by hand.” Slughorn looked at both of them, moving a finger as if they didn’t know this. “You can’t risk leaving any magical residue. It could mess up a potion.”

Did this asshole just say that to him? As if Draco didn’t know that already.

“...right.” Potter mumbled. Who probably didn’t know that. Not one to pay attention if the information didn’t matter to him, even in class.

“Well boys. Better get started. I will leave you to it.” He walked to the door but stopped midway and looked back at them. “I can trust you two to not fight while I’m not here, right?” Slughorn asked, as if the thought just occurred to him. As if that wasn’t why they were there in the first place.

“No need to worry, Professor. We will be on our best behaviour.” The idiot gave him two thumbs up. “Right, Malfoy?”

“...yes.”

“Well then. Remember to polish in circular motions.” Slughorn wished them a good night and left.

\\\

They both sat on the floor, each picking a cauldron out of the massive mountain of cauldrons, a rag in hand and started polishing. It wasn’t difficult but there were so many. They did it in a very uncomfortable silence.

Okay. How did one casually start a conversation with Draco Malfoy? A friendly chit-chat. As if they could ever be friendly. Not that Harry wanted them to be friendly, he just wanted…just…he just…

What did he want?

“So…”

“Don’t talk to me.” 

Harry huffed. Of course the prick wouldn’t make it easier for him. Luckily for Malfoy, Harry never shy away from a challenge. Time to try a different approach.

“Uh, what about that Charm essay? Shit is rough.”

Silence.

Okay, fine.

“It felt nice to fight.”

Malfoy stopped scrubbing, slowly raising his eyes to give Harry a disgusted look. “I’m not going to indulge whatever masochistic tendencies you have, Potter.”

That got him talking.

“You don’t treat me like the rest do.”

“Don’t have enough adoring fans? Should I be flattered to have the Chosen One wanting my adoration?” Malfoy rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“It’s not that.”

“Whatever.” He went back to scrubbing, way harsher now. “I’m not kissing the floor you walk on, Potter. Doesn’t matter that I owe-”

“You don’t owe me anything and it’s not that.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s not what I want, quite the opposite actually.”

“You make absolutely no sense.”

“I know, I just…it’s hard to..to put it into words.”

“Feel like punching me again?” Malfoy quirked an eyebrow.

“You started that.”

Malfoy threw the rag down, finally properly facing Harry.

“You baited me into it.”

“I…I did.”

“Ugh!” Malfoy pushed the cauldron away and glared at him. “Why?! I don’t know if it’s because your skull is too thick or your ridiculous glasses don’t work but if you couldn’t tell, I’m trying to maintain a low profile this year.”

“I noticed.” Harry grumbled, just because he noticed didn’t mean he liked it.

“So why engage with me? Does The Prat Who Lived like to kick the dishonoured Death Eater while he is down? Is that it?”

“You are not a Death Eater.”

Malfoy looked taken aback for a second before quickly pulling himself together before shooting daggers at Harry again. “Fuck off, I’m not going to-”

“I just wanted to see you react.” Harry cut him off, feeling strangely vulnerable. But Malfoy seemed to get the wrong idea, his voice full of poison. 

“I’m not here to entertain you.”

“It’s not that, Malfoy! Ugh, You-you looked like a ghost! All the light was out of you, it was so unsettling, I needed…I needed to see that you were still there…” Harry stared at his hands for a moment before looking up, meeting Malfoy’s gaze. He managed to catch the confused but vulnerable expression before Malfoy schooled his features into that cold deteach expression.

“...you are so bloody weird.”

Harry sighed and shrugged, grabbing another cauldron and started polishing it. Malfoy didn’t resume scrubbing.

“Why do you even care?”

“I just do.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, seemingly thinking and figuring out something, his eyes widening. “Oh fuck no. I’m not going to feed your weird saviour-complex.”

“I do not have a saviour-complex-”

“Get this through that thick skull of yours, Potter.” Malfoy leaned closer, Harry met his eyes. The light was back. “Leave me alone. I don't need your help, nor your attention. I do not need saving. I do not need you.”

Harry took a deep shaky breath, looking at Malfoy, his strong confident posture, unwavering voice and that intense glare that made him look so alive.

“Get it, Potter? I do not need you.” Draco looked away, again focussing on the task at hand. “Just polish your fucking cauldrons.”

“We won’t finish them tonight.”

“We have to.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be in the same room with you anymore than I have to.”

\\\

Aside from the Quidditch incident, the fight and consequently detention, things continued normally for Harry. Wake up, go to lunch, class, friends, sports, mail and so on. Just normal, regular things. Or well, Harry guessed, his new version of normal.

Now he was sitting in his normal spot, eating his normal breakfast, talking about normal things with his friends. Normal, normal, normal.

“Oh, mail is here.” Neville commented, looking at the door. 

A massive group of owls came flying to the Great Hall, moving around, dropping letters and packages. Harry felt a pain in his chest at the memory of Hedwig, he still hasn’t been able to get a new owl. A large black owl flew across the Hall in Harry’s direction. Ministry owl. He suppressed an eye roll as the majestic bird flew down, landing in front of him with a crisp white enveloped with the unmistakable Ministry seal.

He gave the owl some treats which, as usual, the trained owl rejected. Harry played a bit with the envelope.

“What is it, Harry?”

“Probably an interview.” Harry was careful to not rip the letter open, he gently opened it by the seal, as one did. He pulled out the crisp white, Ministry’s grade paper. He gave it a quick read through and indeed, it was an invitation for an event and he had to give a speech too! Goodie. “An interview and speech for the inauguration of the new Auror Training Center.”

“That’s so cool!” Ron was no longer sleepy, the news seemed to perk him up right away. “They can give you a tour, or better yet, they can give us a tour.”

Harry snorted and nodded, getting a fresh piece of paper and a quill to answer. “I’m gonna tell them that.”

“Man, that sounds fun.” Seamus reached for some toast, smothering it in jam. “You get to see where you will be spending the next three years.”

The comment made Harry feel weird, he couldn’t quite explain it. Probably excitement. Yes, it must be excitement.

People were talking around him. Harry knew that but his attention was diverted when Malfoy walked into the Great Hall. Back to being a ghost, quick pace, head down. Harry’s eyes followed him, Malfoy still sat at his usual spot, just like Harry. Old habits die hard. He smiled a bit at the memory of the fight, at how normal it felt, how alive he looked.

“Harry?”

Oh shit.

“Uhm?”

Hermione rolled her eyes but didn’t seem to notice what exactly distracted Harry. 

“I said, are you using the same speech or do you want to work on a new one?”

Why would he do another one? Wasn’t it enough that he had to go there?

Harry shrugged, quickly finishing up the letter. He spelled it close, he was really good at that spell now, he had gotten a lot of practice with all the letters that he had to read and answer. He tied it to the owl’s leg. Once the letter was tightly secured, the owl flew away.

“I will use the same one, they won’t notice.”

“If you say so.”

A twitch of annoyance followed by guilt. Why was he annoyed by the comment? It was a harmless comment. A nice one. She helped him write the speech, of course she would offer to help him write another one, a better one. Should he want to write a better one? Would that be normal? It was expected of him to give the speeches and he did it. He accepted all the invitations to all the events. He did it all. It was enough. More than enough.

Great, now he could feel his appetite start to recede.

“Is it elegant?” Ron remembered to ask. “Please say no.” Hermione gave him a look.

“You still don’t have formal robes?”

“Why would he? The Yule Ball ones are too good to replace.” Joked Seamus and everyone joined in. Everyone laughing, everyone happy. 

Harry’s eyes drifted back to Malfoy. Felt a wave of disappointment when Malfoy was no longer in the room. And with that his appetite vanished completely. He must just not be hungry today. 

The day went on as usual. He went to all his classes. Mostly on time and paying attention, well like paying full attention was a bit of a stretch but he did take some notes. Well, there were words on the paper, Harry counted those as notes. The day felt strange, sometimes lessons seemed to go on forever and others felt like they lasted a mere blink of an eye.

The deep spices of the dinner stew snapped him back to reality. Wait, how did he get here? He couldn’t remember when he had sat down for dinner or even walking to the Hall. He blinked a bit and filled his plate, glancing around in case someone noticed him being…gone? Maybe he should talk to his Mind Healer again. Or maybe he should just act like a fucking normal human being.

“Who’s up for a game of Exploding Snap?” 

Harry was back. Sitting with his friends in his dorm, laughing as they played round after round. This felt nice, he felt normal. But one by one, his friends went to bed. The light went off and with the darkness came the silence. 

Ugh. He fucking hated silence.

Things always got harder at night; when no one was watching. Something heavy weighed down Harry’s chest. 

It wasn’t an uncommon event for Harry. It tended to happen more often than not at night.

Tonight it felt worse. Was it the letter? No. he was excited about it. That must be it. He didn’t know how to process more positive emotions. Wait no, emotions weren’t positive or negative. Ugh, what did his Healer say? Whatever. The point was that his body just didn’t know what to do with all this excitement.

That’s why his chest felt heavy, so heavy. That’s why he could barely breathe.

He was just so fucking excited he could hardly contain himself. That had to be it.