Just a Boy (in love)

The rest of summer goes by about as well as anyone could expect it to. Molly has taken on the responsibility of bringing Malfoy his meals to eat in Ron’s room while the rest of them eat downstairs together. Harry assumes that she only does this to keep the fighting to a minimum and everyone seems happy about this arrangement. The git only shows his face when he decides he can’t go any longer without a shower, claiming the ‘Weasel stench’ has rubbed off on him. 

He and Malfoy seemed to have come up with a silent agreement - Harry lies in his bed until Ron falls asleep, his snores filling the awkward silence of the room, before he gets up. Malfoy then wordlessly makes his way over to Harry’s bed, and Harry lies down on the floor. His back always pays the price, but he deems it worth it, considering Malfoy always seems to sleep soundly through the night this way. It’s a good thing the blonde always wakes up before Ron so he can switch places with Harry again each morning. He doesn’t want to imagine the rampage that Ron would go on, should he ever find out that Harry sacrificed his bed for the ‘Ferret,’ as the redhead still calls him.

School starts back up in only a few days, so it’s inevitable that the entire Weasley family, save Fred and George, venture out to Diagon Alley for school supplies. When they get there, Malfoy is almost immediately pulled into a bone crushing hug by none other than Pansy Parkinson. Harry blinks at the display, not used to seeing the other interact so affectionately with his friends.

“Merlin, Pans. You’re gonna squeeze the life out of me.”

The rest of the Weasleys venture off, but Ron hangs back while Harry awkwardly watches as Blaise Zabini takes his turn hugging Malfoy. Molly had made the blonde promise to meet in front of the Leaky Cauldron when he was finished with his shopping, but Harry doesn’t think it’s exactly the brightest idea to let him wander off without supervision. Y’know, considering Voldemort likely has multiple Death Eaters out looking for him. But if Harry can survive walking around without Voldemort suddenly jumping out of nowhere and kidnapping him, he supposes Malfoy can, too.

“Come on, Harry,” Ron interrupts his musings impatiently. “‘Mione’s waiting for us at Flourish and Blotts.”

Harry hesitates for a moment when Malfoy locks eyes with him from over Zabini’s shoulder. The blonde stares at him blankly before raising an eyebrow in question, as though saying, ‘Well?’ Harry blinks a few times before turning and following Ron down the cobbled street.

“Can’t bloody wait to be rid of him,” Ron mutters. Harry hums in agreement, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s accepted by now that he’s worried about Malfoy. He seems to have been eating a bit more as of late, but he’s still reserved and lacking in insults. He’d especially have a bunch of names ready to throw at Harry, but… He’s received nothing but subtle nods in passing ever since the night they went flying.

‘You could let go of me, now. If you wanted to.’ 

‘If you wanted to…’

“-Harry?”

Harry’s steps falter when he realizes he walked right past Flourish and Blotts without realizing it. With a sheepish smile, he reaches up and tugs at the strands of hair covering his scar before backtracking.

“Sorry. Zoned out.”

Ron’s eyebrows furrow in concern, but he doesn’t question him, for which Harry is grateful. Ron can always sense when something is off about him, but he always waits until Harry is ready to speak about whatever is bothering him, rather than bombarding him with questions. That’s what he loves most about his redheaded friend. 

Hermione, on the other hand, is always full of concern. She notices the smallest of changes in Harry’s behavior, and she frets over him the way a mother does. She’s a lot like Molly Weasley in that sense, and Harry wouldn’t change a single thing about her. He has the two best - best friends that he could ever ask for.

Speaking of Hermione, Ron finds himself with a face full of her bushy hair when they round the corner. Ron’s face immediately goes red and Harry can’t help but watch in amusement as he hesitantly brings his arms around her.

“Hey, ‘Mione.”

Hermione pulls back with a smile, her eyes lingering on Ron’s face for a moment too long before she suddenly turns to Harry. Harry, unlike Ron, doesn’t hesitate to return her hug.

“Harry! I’ve been so worried about you. I would have come to visit you both, but… I reckon I would’ve just made your guys’ entire situation all the more… Tense.”

“Oh Hermione, living with him is a bloody nightmare,” Ron moans dramatically. Hermione pats him on the arm sympathetically.

“I can imagine. At first, I thought you guys were pulling a prank on me when I read your letter.” Hermione glances around them for any eavesdroppers before stepping closer and lowering her voice. “I mean, Draco Malfoy of all people, joining our side? It’s just… Rather unbelievable, if you’d ask me. But I suppose this is a good thing, right?”

“Good?” Ron questions incredulously.

“It is,” Harry nearly cuts Ron off. Both of his friends turn to him with eyebrows raised in surprise. Or, well, Hermione’s is raised in surprise. Ron’s looks more… questionable. Harry feels himself shy away from their gazes, feet shuffling awkwardly as he thinks of how to explain himself.

“I mean… The more people on our side, the better. Right?” Good save, Harry. 

“Exactly!” Hermione beams up at him, pride shining through her eyes. “I’m so glad you see the bright side of things, Harry. Unlike someone.” Hermione directs a light glare towards Ron, who raises his hands in defense.

“Hey! You can’t exactly expect me to be happy that the same git that’s harassed all of us for years is sleeping in my room. In case you’ve forgotten, his father is a death eater that tried to kill all of us a few months ago!”

Ron’s voice rose as he spoke - he was nearly yelling by the end of his sentence. They’ve gathered the attention of a few onlookers, who shoot glances between the three of them in concern. Hermione grabs ahold of Ron’s arm in what is likely to be a comforting gesture.

“Maybe let’s… Not talk about this here. We can discuss it more later. Sound good?” Harry nods his head in relief and Ron is soon to follow, face reddening in embarrassment. 

The three of them take out their list of books to buy before collecting them and leaving. Their next stop is Madam Malkin’s - the moment they walk through the door, Harry notices none other than, you guessed it, Draco bloody Malfoy sitting in a seat while Madam Malkin fussed over him. Harry is immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go for a trim, dear? You’d look positively lovely with the sides shortened a bit.”

“Isn’t your job just to fit me for robes? I don’t need you to give me a makeover, lady. I told you not to touch my hair!” Harry has to stifle a laugh as he watches Malfoy bat Madam Malkin’s hand away from his head while the woman simply tuts at him. Although Harry tried to quietly laugh, Ron made no such attempt.

“Maybe you should listen to her,” Ron snorts. “You’re beginning to look a bit like a girl, Malfoy. Unless that’s what you were going for?”

Malfoy’s eyes flick up to them in the reflection of the mirror before narrowing. “Sod off, Weasel. I happen to like my hair this way, thank you very much.”

Me too, Harry can’t help but think. The moment the thought pops into his head, he feels as though every nerve in his body has lit itself on fire, warming him from the inside out. He can feel the exact moment that his cheeks begin to redden, and he decides he can’t stand to look at the blonde for any longer. When he averts his eyes, he unintentionally looks directly at Hermione, who’s already watching him.

She merely blinks at him, however, and he thinks he sees a hint of surprise in her eyes. Realizing that no other place is safe for him to look, Harry casts his eyes down to his feet while he waits for Madam Malkin to finish up. Malfoy doesn’t spare them a single glance on his way out, not that Harry is complaining. Madam Malkin calls Ron up next, leaving Harry alone with Hermione. She steps closer to him and opens her mouth, and Harry is mentally preparing himself for her reaction to catching him blushing over Draco Malfoy.

“Was he that thin when he first arrived at The Burrow?” Harry feels the tension leave his body at her question. Thank fuck.

“Yeah,” Harry sighs. “He’s been… weird, Hermione. He hasn’t insulted me once! Well, he did call me ‘Scarhead,’” Harry lifts his fingers in air quotations, “-but he didn’t sound like he was taunting me. He doesn’t even talk to Ron at all, which is almost unsettling. I’m so used to hearing him run his mouth when he’s around, but he barely talks. And he’s nice to Molly. Can you believe that?”

Hermione has her eyebrows furrowed in thought, but she hums in consideration at his question. “I mean, he must be going through a really tough time.” That would make the two of us. “It can’t be easy, being the son of a Death Eater. His life is in danger now. Before, he always had his father to protect him, as a metaphorical shield of sorts. But now that Lucius is in Azkaban, he has no one to protect him. Isn’t Bellatrix Lestrange-” Harry feels his heart rate pick up at her name, “-his aunt? Who knows what horrors she put him through. He’s probably terrified. Traumatized, even.”

Harry thinks about her words for a moment. It makes sense. Living with one of the most infamous Death Eaters of all time must come with some trauma. The fact that Malfoy was brave enough to even run from her, and from Voldemort, says a lot about his character. 

“You’re right. All he has now are his friends.”

“And you.”

Harry’s mouth gapes open in shock, but before he can ask her what the fuck she meant by that, Ron saunters over to them.

“Your turn, Mate,” Ron clamps a hand over his shoulder.

“...Right.”

_____

The trio finish up their shopping before making their way over to the Leaky Cauldron. By the time they get there, Malfoy is already waiting. Parkinson and Zabini are standing there with him, the former of the two with her arms around the blonde’s shoulders in another hug. She has to stand on her toes to reach him properly. With her face buried in his neck and his arms around her waist, one could argue that they look almost… well, good. Together. They look rather good together, and Harry feels his chest tighten up at the sight, while his heart appears to be trying to beat out of his chest. The pain almost makes him wince, but the sudden flash of anger that he feels is strong enough to keep him stock-still. 

He hears Hermione’s voice in his ear, saying… something, but he can’t make out her words. He feels light-headed - his brain is foggy and he can’t tune into his surroundings, that is, until Ron elbows him sharply in the ribs.

“Ow! The fuck was that for?”

“You’ve been glaring daggers at Malfoy and Parkinson since we got here. What did they do this time?” Ron speaks in hushed tones and Harry is grateful. If he were to yell like he did earlier, and Malfoy heard… Well, Harry isn’t sure how he’d react. He isn’t sure why he felt such anger towards them in the first place. He feels his face heat up and opens his mouth to likely spew some nonsense excuse, but Hermione thankfully butts in.

“It’s just rather weird seeing Malfoy be affectionate, isn’t it?”

“...Yeah,” Harry grimaces. It is rather weird seeing him be affectionate - Harry didn’t know that he was even capable of affection, so maybe that’s why he reacted the way that he did when he saw the git hugging Parkinson. Even as he tells himself this in his head, it doesn’t feel right, but he has no more time to dwell on the thought.

“Didn’t know the Ferret even had friends…” Ron mutters. Hermione throws a pointed glance Harry’s way after Ron says that, and the noirette is once again confused. Just as he’s about to let himself get lost in his head again, Molly, Arthur, and Ginny arrive in front of them. Ginny smiles at him shyly and Harry’s mind is officially cleared of Malfoy as he smiles back at her - that is, until he realizes that Ginny has grown these past few months. The redheaded girl now stands eye to eye with Harry. She may even be the slightest bit taller than him. He feels his smile falter when he realizes that he’ll most likely never have the same height difference with her that Malfoy has with Parkinson. For some odd reason, this thought bothers him a lot.

“I’ll see you guys in a few days, okay?” Hermione leans in and kisses his cheek before doing the same to Ron. Harry can’t help but laugh at the look of surprise and sheer embarrassment that washes over Ron’s face after the fact. Even without trying, his friends always find some way to cheer him up.

“Miss you, ‘Mione,” Harry says genuinely. Hermione smiles softly at him before leaning in for a hug. Great, Harry can’t help but think to himself. Hermione is taller than me now, too. His thoughts are immediately cut off when Hermione puts her lips to his ear subtly.

“Just treat him like a normal person. Be there for him. He needs you now more than ever,” she whispers. Harry’s eyes widen but she ignores his shocked and clearly confused expression to smile widely at all of them.

“Bye, guys! Stay out of trouble, Ronald.” Ron rolls his eyes with an affectionate smile as the rest of the Weasleys say their goodbyes to Hermione. Harry’s eyes unintentionally wander over towards Malfoy, who is now standing alone. He’s a bit of a way’s behind them with his arms crossed over his chest, expression as haughty as ever. His eyes are already on Harry.

“Right,” Molly interrupts just as Harry was about to open his mouth and say something to Malfoy. He isn’t sure what he’d say - he tends to speak first, think later. He’s a Gryffindor at heart. 

“Everyone get what they needed? Good, good. Back home, then.”

_____

Later that night when Harry is lying in bed, his thoughts wander back to what Hermione said. ‘Just treat him like a normal person.’ Harry supposes he could treat Malfoy like a normal person - I mean, hasn’t he already been doing that? He hasn’t fought with the blonde once in all the weeks that he’s been here. He could even argue that he’s been nice to the git. 

‘Be there for him.’ Be there for him, how? He isn’t quite sure what Hermione meant by that. But then as his thoughts continue to wander, he zeroes in on her words from even earlier in the day.

‘His life is in danger now… He has no one to protect him… He must be terrified. Traumatized, even.’

Harry wouldn’t consider himself the most… comforting , of people. Having not received an ounce of comfort until he reached Hogwarts, he’s still a bit new at the whole ‘making people feel better’ thing. That’s the main reason things never would’ve worked out with Cho last school year. He still doesn’t know what he was thinking, going after a girl whose boyfriend had just died…

Anyways, if there’s one thing that Harry likes doing, it’s protecting people. He’s been doing it ever since his first year. Draco Malfoy has no one to protect him, huh? Well, as of this moment, Harry is making it his mission to protect Draco Malfoy.

With that thought settled in his mind, Harry moves onto the next. ‘He needs you now more than ever.’ Again, Harry isn’t too sure what Hermione meant by that. Malfoy has never once in his life needed Harry. At least, not as far as he’s aware. It doesn’t make too much sense to him. Why would he ever need Harry? It’s not as though they’re friends. I mean - they’re enemies, for Godric’s sake!

Well… are they? They may not have been treating each other like friends, but they haven’t necessarily been treating each other as enemies, either. Maybe they’re past that point - I mean, they’ve both seen real evil, by now. He’d be silly to call Malfoy evil. Considering Malfoy isn’t evil (but still a prat), Harry can confidently say that the blonde is not his enemy.

…But then where does that leave them? Not friends, not enemies. Acquaintances? He doesn’t feel right calling Malfoy his acquaintance, either. They’ve known each other for nearly six years now! But then again, they don’t know know each other. So… Yeah, acquaintances it is. 

He still doesn’t quite understand what Hermione meant by ‘He needs you now more than ever,’ but he’ll just… roll with it. Malfoy ‘needing’ him, for whatever reason, is hardly the weirdest thing that has happened to him. 

He’s answered a few of his questions by lying here and thinking, but he’s still left with a few more, rather difficult questions to answer. Like, why did he think Malfoy was… Beautiful? Has he always been beautiful? Even when he’s unhealthy and miserable, he’s still. Fucking. Beautiful. Why?

Harry sits up in his bed suddenly and looks over towards Malfoy. His sudden movement seems to have caught Malfoy’s attention, the blonde whipping his head up from his pillow to look back at him. Ron’s snores fill the silence of the room while the two of them stare at each other. Feeling brave, Harry stands from his bed. Malfoy watches him before slowly moving onto his own feet. Harry’s bravery begins to dwindle away the longer he stands there, so he decides to finally move and make his way over to the blonde’s spot on the floor. Malfoy mirrors him and begins making his way over to Harry’s bed, but Harry speaks just as they pass each other.

“Malfoy.”

Malfoy freezes on the spot before very slowly turning around and facing him. From where he’s standing now, the moonlight shines directly from behind Harry and onto Malfoy’s face. The moment Malfoy’s eyes lock onto his, Harry feels his heart begin to beat faster, like it’s trying to escape his chest again. Rather than feeling anger this time, as his heart races, he feels… Awe.

The moonlight brings out the paleness of Malfoy’s hair and skin, while also casting dark shadows in each divot on the blonde’s face. Harry can’t look away - he feels like shrinking under the gaze of the other’s silver eyes, but still just can’t look away. 

A few moments pass where neither of them move nor say a thing. Malfoy appears like he desperately wants to ask Harry what the fuck he wants, but the look on Harry’s face must be severe enough for him to keep quiet. When Harry finally does find his voice, he opens his mouth to ask, ‘Are you sure you’re not part Veela?’ What comes out of his mouth, however, is-

“Are you and Parkinson dating?”

Harry immediately snaps his mouth shut. Malfoy’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, but Harry has been staring at them so intensely for the past minute or so that he’s able to notice the difference. The blonde opens his mouth ever so slightly and Harry swears his heart must be beating loud enough for the other to hear it by now. The shocked expression on Malfoy’s face passes quickly, however, soon to be replaced by amusement.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Potter.”

With that, Malfoy turns back around and strides over to Harry’s bed before gracefully laying himself down on it. Harry blinks a few times before turning himself around and awkwardly taking Malfoy’s previous spot on the floor.

That had… not gone the way that he had planned. He doesn’t know why he asked that. He had found himself so, so… mesmerized by the git’s eyes that he just… Blurted out that admittedly, unwarranted question. I mean - it was somewhat warranted. Him and Parkinson seemed rather friendly when he saw them together earlier that day. Ugh, but that’s still not the question he had meant to ask. His mind keeps getting… weird when he looks too closely at the blonde.

With a sigh, Harry leans his head back against the pillow beneath him and closes his eyes. He has exactly two missions for this upcoming school year.

Mission One: Protect Draco Malfoy

Mission Two: Find a way to prove that Draco Malfoy is part Veela

_____

The moment they land on the platform, Malfoy all but disappears. One second he was standing behind Harry, but when he turned around to face the blonde, he was already striding over to the train without a backwards glance. Each Weasley takes their turn getting hugged by Molly until it’s Harry’s turn. Molly wishes him good luck and makes him promise to study hard. When he pulls out of the hug, he notices her smiling rather sadly at something behind him. When Harry turns to see just what, or rather who she’s smiling at, he notices Malfoy glancing back at her with a similar expression, one foot in the train. With a barely noticeable wave, the blonde turns around and brings his other foot onto the train before disappearing. Soon after, Harry boards the train with Ron by his side.

“Can’t help but notice that Mum almost seemed sad that the Ferret was leaving. Pretty sure she even shed a tear! And what the bloody hell do I get as a goodbye? Just a hasty, ‘Stay out of trouble, Ronald!’” Ron rolls his eyes as they make their way past full compartments. Harry snorts.

“Sounds like Hermione. Anyways, I wouldn’t overthink it, if I were you. She’s probably just worried about him.”

“Worried?” Ron questions incredulously. His face scrunches up as though the thought of anyone worrying over Malfoy leaves him disgusted. Knowing him, he probably is disgusted. They finally reach a nearly empty compartment near the back of the train where Hermione has clearly been waiting for them. Just as Ron reaches out to open the door, a voice stops him.

“Hi, Ron.”

Both Harry and Ron turn to the source of the soft voice. A girl in their year whose name Harry can’t quite seem to remember stands before them, a few strands of her long, brown hair curled around her finger in a flirtatious manner. She’s wearing a shy smile on her face that’s directed towards the redhead as though they’re the sole two occupants of the train. Ron freezes up and stares back at the girl awkwardly. A few seconds of silence pass between them and Harry can no longer take it, so he elbows his friend in his ribs. This seems to snap Ron out of his shock.

“Er, hi…” he mutters. His face is nearly as red as his hair by now. Harry wants to laugh, but this entire interaction is just too awkward for him to do anything at all. He swears he knows this girl’s name. Lily? No, he’d remember someone if they had the same name as his mother. Daisy? No, that doesn’t seem right, either. He shrugs internally, quickly coming to terms with the fact that he doesn’t really care.

“Right,” Ron clears his throat after a few more moments of silence in which the girl simply stands there smiling at him. “We’ll just be- going,” he motions to the compartment before sliding the door open and all but tripping in his hast to get inside. Harry follows behind him with a muffled laugh before closing the door.

“What just happened?” Hermione glances up from her book with a raised eyebrow sent in their direction.

“Some girl was just flirting with Ron. At least, that’s what I think was happening,” Harry looks off to the side in consideration. “I couldn’t tell. It was rather awkward, really.”

“What?” Hermione asks disbelievingly, finally setting her book aside. “Who was it?”

Ron shrugs helplessly. “Dunno. I’ve seen her around the common room before, though.”

“Seriously, Ronald?” Hermione asks with a roll of her eyes. “Five full years at Hogwarts and you still don’t know all the Gryffindors’ names? Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey!” the redhead exclaims after shoving his belongings onto the shelf above their heads. Harry does the same before taking a seat next to his bushy-haired friend. Ron sits on the opposite side of them before crossing his arms.

“What were we talking about, again?” Ron asks Harry.

“Malfoy,” Harry responds without missing a beat. He quickly snaps his mouth shut, just as Hermione loses her defensive stance and instead looks between them with intrigue.

“What about him?” Hermione asks. Harry detects a slight bit of concern in her voice.

“About how Mum is supposedly ‘worried’ over the git. Couldn’t imagine why, though. I mean, Hogwarts is the safest place he could be, right? Still don’t understand why Dumbledore didn’t just hide him there to begin with…” he mutters the last part, mostly to himself.

“Right,” Harry snorts. “We only just barely made it through last school year with Toad Umbridge breathing down our necks and trying to dictate our every move while she simultaneously tortured students and drugged them just so she could find out what I was up to. Or did you forget how she slapped me in the face and threatened to use the Cruciatus curse on me?” Harry finishes with a snarl. Ron flinches back with a guilty expression on his face.

“Sorry, mate,” Ron says quietly. “I wasn’t trying to undermine your experiences. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No,” Harry sighs, feeling just as guilty as his friend. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m not mad at you. I just…” Harry sits back in his seat with another sigh. “The mere thought of Umbridge still pisses me off more than anything else.”

Ron nods his head in a sad sort of understanding. Hermione reaches out then, her hand landing on Harry’s shoulder. She squeezes it comfortingly and Harry turns towards her. “Umbridge is gone. She won’t be coming back. Dumbledore is here to stay. This year will be better.”

Harry can’t help but smile gratefully at Hermione. She smiles back at him and Harry turns his smile towards Ron who smiles back at him in relief. Just then, the door of their compartment slides open and Neville steps in.

“Hey guys,” the brunette smiles sheepishly at them. “Mind if I join you? I was gonna sit with Luna, but she and Ginny are having ‘girl talk’ and they said no boys are allowed, so…”

“Of course!” Hermione smiles at him. Ron scoots over and pats the seat beside him which Nevile gratefully takes.

“Thanks. So, how has your guys’ summer been?”

Harry and Ron glance at each other with widened eyes, both clearly unsure as to how much of their summer they should reveal. Hermione seems to sense their hesitation, so she helpfully responds for them.

“Great! I spent the majority of it reading up on N.E.W.T. - Level defense spells. I know everyone learned a lot from Harry teaching the D.A. last year, myself included, but I wanted to get even more of a head start before the first term.” Neville nods along with her, clearly not surprised by her choice to do nothing but read the entire summer.

“What about you, Nev?” Hermione asks him. Neville’s face seems to dim at her question, a shadow of grief suddenly crossing his features. 

“Alright, I suppose. I-I went to see my parents. They seemed to be doing alright when I visited them last summer. They even smiled at me! B-but when I saw them last month, they couldn’t even glance my way.” Neville sniffs and blinks away his tears before continuing, all of them now listening intently. “I know they won’t get better! But I just thought, seeing as they smiled at me for the first time ever last year, that they just… would. I know it’s silly.”

Ron clamps a comforting hand over Neville’s shoulder while the brunette hastily wipes away his tears. Harry and Hermione both lean forwards in their seats. “I’m so sorry, Neville,” Hermione says softly after reaching out and taking both of his hands in hers.

“It’s alright,” he sniffles one last time before smiling slightly. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to overshare. I haven’t talked to anyone all summer, so all of my feelings sort of boiled over.”

“Don’t apologize,” Harry says meaningfully. “You can talk to us anytime, Nev. We’re here for you.” And Harry means it. His heart clenches as Neville’s smile brightens into a more genuine one.

“Thanks, Harry. The same goes to you. All of you,” he glances at Ron and Hermione who both return his smile with genuine ones of their own.

Harry feels bad that he hasn’t given too much thought to Frank and Alice Longbottom since he’d found out about their condition. He’d been rather… preoccupied with the D.A. and Voldemort. But now that he’s sitting here with Neville, who is so obviously hurting, he can’t help but feel for him.

Him and Neville both lost their parents to the first Wizarding War. While Harry’s parents are dead, Neville’s are still alive and breathing, albeit they can no longer function as they used to. He isn’t sure which fate is worse. He imagines it’d be nice if he were able to see his parents again - look them in their eyes, feel them. But they wouldn’t recognize him. He would still never be able to talk to them, to live with them like he’s always desperately wished to. He would have to be reminded of the excruciating pain that they experienced each time he looked at them. 

Both fates seem equally as painful.

_____

Rather than dropping their belongings off by the Entrance Hall like they usually do, Filch required everyone to drop their luggage off just outside the school to be searched. Harry supposes it’s a good idea, considering, well… just about everything that is going on and has happened at Hogwarts in the past. He follows Neville, Ron and Hermione into the Great Hall with bated breath.

He can’t explain why he feels so anxious all of a sudden. He glances up at the Head Table and locks eyes with Dumbledore. Dumbledore smiles at him and Harry feels himself smile back. He may not have had the best relationship with the Headmaster last school year, but dear Merlin is he happy to see him up there, rather than Umbridge.

His eyes instinctively glide over to the Slytherin table on their own accord. He subconsciously seeks out that head of blonde hair and finds him quite easily - once again, his hair makes him stick out like a candlestick in the dark. Malfoy is seated between Zabini and Parkinson, of course. Harry feels that muted rage within him suddenly unmute as he watches the dark haired girl link one of her arms with Malfoy’s. He still doesn’t understand exactly why he feels so much anger when he sees her. Malfoy scowls down at the table in response to something she says and Harry feels just a tiny bit of the anger dissipate.

Maybe it’s the Veela in him. That’s gotta be it! Harry thinks to himself. There’s really just no other explanation as to why he feels angry when he sees Parkinson with Malfoy. The Veela in the blonde is obviously pulling Harry towards him, and Harry, having no choice but to be attracted to the bloody git, feels jealous that someone other than himself gets to be that close to him. It’s not that Harry is genuinely jealous. It’s just his hormones’ response to Malfoy’s Veela nature. Yeah.

The Sorting Ceremony goes by quickly and Harry is able to tune the entire thing out. Once it’s finished, Dumbledore stands up. “The very best of evenings to you!” he calls out with a broad smile.

“Merlin,” Hermione breathes from her seat next to Harry. “What happened to Professor Dumbledore’s hand?”

Harry furrows his brows in confusion before glancing towards Dumbledore again. The Headmaster is standing in front of his podium with his hands clasped, clearly prepared to give his beginning of the year speech, but Harry’s eyes are on his right hand. From the tips of his fingers down to his wrist, the skin is black and dead looking. His already wrinkly skin is even more shriveled up than it used to be. 

It appears that Hermione wasn’t the only one to notice his hand. Whispers sweep across the entire hall, all wondering what the hell happened to him. Dumbledore shushes them quickly enough.

“Nothing to worry about,” he assures the hall. “Now… To our new students, welcome! To our old students, welcome back! Another year of magical education awaits you…”

“His hand looks… dead,” Hermione whispers in horror. “I’ve read about incurable curses that leave lasting injuries, and poisons without antidotes… I wonder what could have happened.”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out. “I hope it’s not too serious.”

“-We are pleased to welcome a new member of our staff this year. Professor Slughorn is a former professor of Hogwarts who has happily agreed to resume his old position as Potions Master.” Professor Slughorn stands up and Harry can’t help but stare. The man appears old, although not as old as Dumbledore. He’s rather round and has a friendly face with graying hair. He sits back down after a moment and- wait.

“Did he just say Potions Master?” Ron exclaims. The hall once again erupts into whispers that soon turn louder and louder. Dumbledore calls for attention again before things get out of hand.

“Meanwhile,” the Headmaster continues, raising his voice so it carries over the rest of the hall. “Professor Snape will be taking over the position of your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“No!” Harry exclaims. Many heads turn his way, but he can’t bring himself to care. After all these years, Snape finally got the position that he’s always wanted. Why?

Snape merely waves his hand in acknowledgement. The Slytherins are the only ones who clap for him. He’s glad he’s not the only one upset over this new predicament. It doesn’t make sense to him - Snape has been after that position for years, and yet, Dumbledore never trusted him enough to give it to him. Why now?

“Maybe this means he’ll be gone by the end of the year,” Harry whispers suddenly. Ron and Hermione both turn to him in confusion.

“What do you mean by that, mate?” Ron questions.

“I mean,” Harry continues. “-no one has lasted more than a year in that position. By the end of each year, they always leave. Or in Professor Quirrell’s case, he died. Don’t you get it?” The two of them shake their heads hesitantly.

“That position is jinxed.”

Ron and Hermione seem to sit with this revelation in silence. Dumbledore carries on after another few moments.

“Now, you all have a right to know why your belongings have been searched before entering the castle.” Everyone seems to quiet at that. “As you should know, Lord Voldemort and his followers have been at large and are growing in strength. It is absolutely crucial that you report any suspicious behavior, from students or staff, should you feel that they are a threat in any way. These are dark times that we live in.”

The hall is silent by this point. Harry’s eyes are once more drawn to the Slytherin table. Malfoy has his head bowed, strands of his blonde hair now falling into his face and obscuring Harry’s view of his eyes. When he glances at the rest of the Slytherins, he finds a few of them throwing dirty looks Malfoy’s way. Has he done something to them…? No, It’s because he’s not one of them. 

Harry averts his eyes with a sigh. It makes sense now, Hermione’s words. ‘He needs you now more than ever.’ Malfoy has all of two friends - Zabini and Parkinson. His father is a Death Eater. He was a Death Eater in the making, but he deflected. He refused. And now the Slytherins - whose parents are mostly Death Eaters, mind you - have cast him out.

Malfoy has never been the friendliest of blokes, either. Harry can imagine that every other house hates him, but for different reasons than the Slytherins. He, quite literally, has no one but his two friends on his side. And Dumbledore, it seems. But is that enough to keep him safe? 

Maybe this is why he needs Harry, even if he doesn’t know that yet. Call him presumptuous, but Harry thinks that by protecting Malfoy, that is the only way he’ll ever be safe. Harry holds a lot of, shall we say, sway over others, considering his name. He hates taking advantage of his own name, but if it’s to keep someone safe… He just may be able to make a sacrifice, just this once. In due time.

“Remember, children,” Dumbledore continues with a soft voice. “It is our choices that make us who we really are.” Malfoy finally looks up, then, and Harry watches the Headmaster give the blonde a subtle smile. Malfoy quickly ducks his head again, but not before Harry catches a slight pinkening in his cheeks. Huh.

“Anyways, dinner and then off to bed with you.”

_____

Directly after dinner, Professor McGonagall had cornered him and Ron and convinced them into taking Potions this year. They hadn’t originally intended to, considering neither of them had the grades for it, but Professor Slughorn is supposedly more lenient than Snape. This means they’ll have one less free period this year, but that still leaves them with two. If they both want to become Aurors in the future, they don’t really have much of a choice.

Harry, Ron and Hermione find themselves sitting on the rug near the fireplace afterwards. Harry’s already got so many things running through his mind, and it’s only the first day back. The thing at the forefront of his mind, however, is Snape.

“Why do you suppose Dumbledore finally gave Snape the DADA position after all this time?”

Hermione shrugs helplessly. “Dunno.”

“Really?” Ron snorts. “You don’t know? That’s a first.”

Harry has to smother a laugh with a cough, but Hermione doesn’t buy it, judging by the glare she throws at him. “Oh, bugger off. Honestly, Ronald… But, seriously. If what Harry says is true, about the DADA position being,” she looks around for any eavesdroppers before leaning forwards, “-jinxed, then that would mean that Snape will be gone by the end of the year. The only thing I can think of that would make any sense is that Snape is planning something, and Dumbledore is in on it. I just haven’t a clue as to what it could be…”

“Listen to yourself, ‘Mione. You’re beginning to sound like Harry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry questions defensively.

“You always think that someone is up to something. ‘Snape is up to this, Malfoy is up to that,’ and so on.”

“To be fair, they were always up to something! Even if it wasn’t always something inherently awful. Besides, I agree with Hermione.”

Ron sighs. “I suppose it makes sense. But do you really think this is something we should meddle with? Don’t you think we should trust Dumbledore on this?”

Harry and Hermione are silent for some time while they think this over. He trusts Dumbledore. He has no choice but to trust Dumbledore. “You’re right,” Harry says suddenly. Ron snaps his head over to look at him, surprise adamant in his expression.

“I am?” he asks as though he doesn’t believe him. Harry smiles.

“You are,” Hermione interjects. “As much as this entire situation makes me feel uncomfortable, this is Snape and Dumbledore that we’re talking about. Dumbledore is even sneakier than us-” they all smirk at that, “-so we’d get nowhere if we tried sniffing around.”

“True,” Harry agrees. “But I’m sure we’ll find out what’s going on soon enough, anyways. We always do.”