Chemistry Partners

Ch. 12

Thursday Afternoon

New Conversation 

Unknown Number: What are your plans today, Harry?

Harry Potter: Blocking you, again. 

Unknown Number: You won’t. 

Unknown Number can no longer reply to this conversation

— 

Two Bisexuals and their favourite redhead

Harry Potter: I am at Malfoy’s. 

Ron Weasley: my mum and I wish you luck

Hermione Granger: My mum and dad are prepared for a phone call in case. 

Harry Potter: You are the best mates ever 

Hermione Granger: We know. 

–

Harry Potter stood outside the Malfoy Manor once again. It looked the same, even as the sun set down upon it, the creepiness only seemed to amplify in the orange light. He stared at the door, his hand raised, mustering up the courage to gently knock. A part of him hoped no one heard it. He was about fifteen minutes early and debated just sitting out front until six thirty but he also did not want to seem like a creep. He held the bouquet of daffodils and roses, he picked them up right before coming over to give to Mrs. Malfoy. 

Much against his small hope, the door opened in front of him, almost causing him to jump backward. It was Mrs. Malfoy, the flat expression on her face was somewhat welcoming. At least it wasn’t an angry one. 

“Oh, you came,” She said, slightly shocked. She looked extremely elegant, with a beautiful black dress wrapped around her body, “Draco said you would but I was just unsure” She looked him up and down. He hoped his shirt was okay, it was tucked into his pants and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Mrs. Weasley had made sure it was unwrinkled and perfect for Harry to wear. 

He held the flowers out to her, “These are for you,” He said. She grabbed them hesitantly, scanning over them. 

“Narcissus flowers and roses, my favourites,” She said. She opened the door wider, allowing him inside. “The maids are still preparing the dining room and the cooks are running a tad behind, but I can show you up to Draco’s room, you can stay there until it is time to eat.”

Inside was just as Harry expected. Dark and wealthy. He looked around, astonished. The tile was black and gold marbled, and the entrance room was lit by a massive chandelier as two sets of curving stairs lay in front of him, there were doors on his left and right, and in front of him, between the staircases was a fireplace with two dark green couches in front. The walls were dark gray, adding to the ominous look.  It was definitely a Malfoy House. Mrs. Malfoy placed the flowers into an empty vase that sat on the side table near one of the couches.

“Your home is beautiful,” Harry complimented, following her as she ascended the staircase on the right. 

“I’m well aware, thank you,” She said. It didn’t sound as sarcastic as he thought it would. “How is your family, Potter?” She asked, not looking at him as they made a turn. 

“Oh, they’re doing well,” He said. She continued to make multiple turns, he barely kept up. Harry saw a multitude of Malfoy Family portraits, young and current Draco, some even without, containing his older family members. The halls were lit by multitudes of candles, adding even more to the almost medieval look.

“Draco has told me and my husband that they are not welcome in correlation with our business, but he did not tell me why. Could you?” She asked, stopping in a random corner suddenly. He knew by the look in her eyes that it wasn’t a request. 

Harry glanced to the side, “My family– well my aunt, uncle, and cousin at least, aren’t the greatest people. Malf– Your son he…” He didn’t know how much Draco told his mom. “He defended me after my aunt said some things,” His voice was barely above a whisper and he avoided eye contact.

Mrs. Malfoy’s eyes pierced into him, “My son defended you?” She asked. Harry nodded. “What did your aunt say to you?” She asked and Harry noticed her arms crossed. 

“I’m not sure. She says many not-very-kind things about me. Your son– he’s a better person than them, a much better person.”

Mrs. Malfoy sighed. “Draco is a good boy, he becomes very defensive over things he cares about. And my son doesn’t care for much, "she said. 

Something in her eyes clicked. She suddenly walked past Harry once again and Harry followed, barely keeping up with her fast walk. He walked just a tad behind her. After a few more confusing turns, they stopped in front of the dark green door, it had DRACO, written in bold black letters. Mrs. Malfoy raised a tentative hand, she turned her eyes on the opposite side of Harry. 

“Potter, if you ever have any questions about your birth parents, I know some people who knew them. Simply ask, whenever, okay?” She said, Her voice was just above a whisper. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” He said, a small smile on his face. 

She turned and knocked aggressively on the door. “My love! Open up! It’s your mum,” She said, continuing to knock. 

The door opened quickly, “Blimey, mum–” There stood Draco, his shirt half-buttoned with a tie loosely wrapped around his collar, toothbrush partially hanging out of his mouth, his hair was in the midst of being combed, and a live snake roamed around his collarbones and neck, just as Harry had seen on Bellatrix the other day. “-Oh bloody hell,” He said, after taking the toothbrush out. 

Harry pressed his lips in a sympathetic smile. “Hi,” He said. 

“You’re early.”

“I am.”

It was quiet, both of them just staring at each other, just as it had been the other night. Harry’s eyes refused to look anywhere except for the dark gray eyes in front of him. 

“Draco, don’t be rude, invite Potter in,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“I’m still getting ready!” He exclaimed. 

“Oh please, you’re both boys, nothing you’re not used to,” She said. “Dinner will be ready soon, I’ll send a maid up to bring you down,” She said. 

Before Draco could say anything else, Mrs. Malfoy hurried down the hall and disappeared down a corridor. Draco rolled his eyes as he heard his mother’s giggle echo through the halls. 

Draco hesitantly opened the door wider, allowing Harry to enter his room. It was just as dark on the inside as it was outside. His room was lit by an elegant-looking ceiling fan– something Harry never thought he would describe a ceiling fan as– the walls were a dark gray and his room was in a loft format. 

His dark green silk sheets slightly hung off the edge of his raised bed, the desk underneath was, of course, perfectly organized, while directly next to it was a large cage for what Harry assumed was the snake on his shoulders. On his left, there was an open door that led to the bathroom. There was a window on the wall but the curtains were closed shut. 

“I knew you were rich Malfoy, but this is just minted,” Harry said, looking around. He had his accomplishments hung up all over his walls, and printed out photos of Draco, Pansy, and Blaise. The only thing out of place in Draco's clean room was, well, Draco’s current appearance. 

“Not my money, my family’s,” Draco corrected as he placed his toothbrush back into the bathroom. 

“You have a pet snake?” Harry asked, trying to make small talk as he awkwardly stood in the middle of Draco’s room. 

“Her name is Lilith,” Draco said, moving her onto his arm as he attempted to finish buttoning his shirt.

“I never knew that.”

“You never asked.”

“Fair,” Harry said, glancing around some more, taking a double look at everything. 

“You are so awkward,” Draco muttered, placing the snake back into her cage.

“My apologies for not having much experience in mansions,” His tone was thickly sarcastic. 

Draco grinned, “Apology accepted,” He said, going toward his mirror in the bathroom as he tied his tie, Harry watched his hands move swiftly before glancing at the carpeted floor again. 

“It was sarcasm, Malfoy,” Harry said, standing outside the open bathroom door. 

“Oh speaking of,” Draco said, completely ignoring what he said and making eye contact with Harry through the mirror as he fixed his hair. “Calling me Malfoy is only going to confuse my family.”

“So what do I call you? Arsehole? Tosser? Git? I’m a fan of those.”

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry’s grin. “For today you can call me Draco, anytime after today and I will hurl you into the sun,” He said. 

“Okay, Draco,” Harry said. The word felt like a spice in his mouth. Hearing Harry say it felt surreal like Draco was standing in a field of grass with wind blowing past him. “What about me?”

“You’re the only Potter here, so nothing about you,” He felt Harry roll his eyes. “Also, I know it’s called an apology dinner, but there will be no actual apologising,” Draco added. 

“What?”

“In all the apology dinners we have had, no one actually apologises. I figured you should know,” Draco said, adjusting the last hair to frame his face. He glanced over his clothes, his white shirt was perfectly clean and ironed, and a green and silver tie was tied around his neck, resting on his chest. 

“How many of these have you had?” 

Draco started counting on his hands, “Well, once for me, once for my mum, five times for my aunt, and then this is the seventh for my father,” He said. 

“Fourteen? Your family has held fourteen apology dinners?” Harry questioned

“Yes,” Draco said, crossing his arms and glancing at Harry through the mirror. 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? And no one has actually apologised at any of them?”

“Well, I tried to but my father–” He cut himself off. 

He turned around and faced Harry, fully looking him over for the first time. The red shirt was slightly baggy, but the rolled-up sleeves and tucked-in parts made it fit his body shape better. His curly hair was relatively tamed, resting around his face. His glasses rested on his nose, which was slightly tinted pink from the cold outside. 

“Your father what?” Harry asked, waiting expectantly 

“Nothing, Lynn should be here soon,” He said, walking past Harry. 

“You’re a very secretive person, Draco,” Harry said, staring at him up and down as Draco continued adjusting his tie even though it sat perfectly already. 

“You don’t have to call me that while we’re in here,” Draco said, glaring at him. 

Harry glanced to the side with a smile, “True but I quite enjoy it,” He said, earning another eye roll. 

“You’re–” A knock on the door interrupted his sentence. 

The door peeked open and a small woman peered in, covering her eyes with one hand. Her hair was tied up and her clothes were slightly disheveled.  “Mr. Malfoy, the dining room is ready, Madam Malfoy has asked that you and Mr. Potter come down now,” She said.

“Thank you, Lynn,” Draco said. “And you can open your eyes,” he said uncrossing his arms.

She moved her hand from her face, “My apologises, Madam Malfoy suggested I do,” She explained.

“Of course she did,” He said under his breath.

—

Sitting at the dinner table was nothing less than unpleasant. Mr. Malfoy sat at the head of the table, Mrs. Malfoy to his direct right, Draco on his left, and then Harry next to Draco. It was dead silent, only small clinks of utensils against plates and the occasional napkin rustling. The maid from earlier, Lynn, stood in the corner, her hands clasped and ready to help when they asked. 

Mrs. Malfoy cleared her throat, “What is the project on?” She asked, her voice slightly echoing through the large dining hall. The candles at the center of the table were lit, providing the same eerieness as the hallways. It was cold in the Malfoy Manor, sending slight chills down Harry’s spine every few seconds. 

“We choose a section on the periodic table and create a poster board explaining its properties and all of the information regarding each element from the chosen section,” Draco explained, not glancing at his mother as he spoke. 

“What section did you two choose?” She asked, taking a sip of her wine with one hand and squeezing her husband's hand with the other. 

“Metalliods,” He said shortly. 

“Isn’t that one complicated?” She asked. 

“Depends on what you see as complicated,” Harry said before thinking. A bad habit of his. 

Draco nudged him with his knee under the table, “It’s not complicated, we’ve already completed it and we present tomorrow,” He said, taking another bite of food. Harry glanced down at Draco’s knee still pressed against his. 

“How often did you work on this in the past week?” Mr. Malfoy asked, his eyes looking directly at Draco. “You told us you were going to that Parkinson girl’s house, now we know what you were doing,” His father said, his voice was flat and monotone but Draco glanced to the side. Mrs. Malfoy’s eyes peered into her husband. 

“We worked on it on Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday. The only time I went to Pansy’s was Friday night because she was confused about our maths assignment,” Draco answered. 

Mr. Malfoy placed his hands on his lap, “Are you talking back?” He asked, his eyes staring daggers into Draco.

Harry barely noticed Draco’s eyes widen slightly, “No, father,” He said. 

Mrs. Malfoy took a long drawl of her wine, “Luicius, where is my sister?” She asked, changing the topic. 

“Bellatrix said she was preoccupied with other things.”

“Ah,” Mrs. Malfoy said. Harry continued eating, it was good food, he had to tell Ron that he was right. 

“Why were you partnered with Potter in the first place?” He asked as if Harry wasn’t less than ten feet away from him. 

“I was sick. The teacher paired us because M– Draco didn’t have a partner,” Harry explained quickly and immediately regretted it as Mr. Malfoy’s eye titched in annoyance. 

“I didn’t ask you, Potter,” He sounded like he spoke venom and Draco bit his tongue. “Why did you not have your partner switched, Draco?”

“I didn’t want to,” He said, staring down at his fork. 

“Well, why not?” 

“Because I didn’t, father, if I had wanted to, I would have switched,” He said, looking up. Harry glanced between the two and took a long drink of water. 

“Having Potter associate with you will not be the best for our academic reputation, how can you be sure–”

“Father, I am sure about my decisions,” Draco said, making direct eye contact with his father. Harry almost choked on his water. 

“You are just a boy, your brain isn’t even fully developed,” Mr. Malfoy said, Mrs. Malfoy squeezed his hand with an almost deathly grip. 

“I am developed enough to make a decision regarding a school assignment,” He said. 

“Clearly not, because this decision will greatly affect your academics if he messed up on his portion of this project.”

“Lucius, it is a school project, you are blowing this out of proportion,” Mrs. Malfoy said, taking her hand away from his. 

“Are you saying I’m dramatic?” 

“Yes, I am,” She said, “He’s seventeen, he can do whatever he wants for school, he will make a decision that is good for his academics.”

He turned to Draco and Harry, “You are excused, Draco, I need to have a word with Potter,” He said. 

Draco pressed his knee closer to Harry’s. “Respectfully, anything you need to say, you can say while I am here,” Draco said. Harry saw the determined look in his face. 

“If you say so,” Mr. Malfoy said. He cleared his throat and turned his gaze onto Harry,  “Potter,when if the project fails because of you, I will ensure the grade falls upon you. The failed project will be significant and you may fail that class, but that i not my concern. If you try to bring it up with the administration I will personally see to it that you are expelled from Hogwarts High. Do you understand?” He asked.

Harry simply stared, his mouth slightly open, his hand still resting on the glass of water, trying to not laugh. Draco abruptly stood, his chair screeching against the floor. Draco grabbed the untouched win that sat in front of him and threw it on his father, wine dripping down his face as Mrs. Malfoy covered her mouth with her hand in shock. 

“Ridiculous,” Draco said under his breath, placing the glass back down and swiftly leaving the dining hall. 

Mr. Malfoy attempted to form words, his mouth opening and closing a few times but unable to actually say anything. A few maids left some napkins and towels next to him. He waved them off and stood, leaving in the opposite direction of Draco. Harry hadn’t moved, his brain trying to process everything. Mrs. Malfoy noticed and stood, she walked over to him, ignoring her husband's grumbles. 

She placed a hand on his shoulder, “Potter, you are excused, Lynn can show you where you need to go,” She said. Lynn, who had been cleaning the win from the table, immediately stopped and nodded. 

“Actually, can I speak with Draco?” He asked. His voice cracking slightly. He didn’t know what he was going to speak about but he would hopefully figure it out before he got there. 

A soft smile fell across her face, almost looking unnatural, “If he would like to, Lynn?” She said, turning to Lynn once again.

“Of course, madam,” She said. 

“You can call me Narcissa, Lynn, I’ve known you forever, you’re basically a Malfoy,” She said. She then whispered another thing that Harry didn’t hear as he stood. 

As Harry and Lynn walked through the confusing corridors once more. The hall's seemed darker now that the sun had set and the curtains were closed he noticed Lynn muttering to herself. Her hair was black and tied up into a bun, gel held down any strands that could possibly become loose. 

“How long have you known the Malfoy’s?” Harry asked. 

“Since Draco was born, they hired to me help considering they were very busy with Malfoy Incorporation, I’ve known Draco his whole life,” She said. 

“Really? I can imagine he wasn’t the easiest child to raise.”

“He wasn’t. Mostly due to Mr. Malfoy’s actions and how he was treating Draco. it causes Draco to act out a lot, Narcissa says he is just a boy but that doesn't mean he isn't responsible for his actions. He’s still learning how to be a person and his parents are just–” She cut herself off, stopping suddenly. “You won’t tell Mr. Malfoy I’m saying any of this, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh great! I didn’t think so,” She said, continuing her walk. “His father is very controlling and Draco, he needs to have control over some things, it’s natural for him to want to. And in my opinion, Narcissa gives him too much freedom,” She said. 

“He seems to have control over a lot,” Harry said as they made another right. 

“Not as much as he acts, he has this character he plays for everyone, but he isn't truly like that,” She stopped in front of Draco's door. “Shout if you need anything, Mr. Potter,” She said, leaving him in front of the door and hurrying off down the hall. 

Harry raised his hand and knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again. Nothing. He raised his hand to knock again but then the door swung open. 

“Mum, I don’t want to talk to–” Draco’s eyes landed on Harry. His previous perfect hair was now in disarray, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbow and his eyes were tinted red. “You’re not my mother,” he said simply. 

“I am not,” Harry noted. 

“I thought you would have left.”

“You thought wrong.”

“I hate it when that happens.”

“I know,” His tone wasn’t mocking– it was genuine and Draco almost slammed his door shut to cry. “Can I come in?” he asked. 

Instead of asking why, Draco opened his door, letting Harry walk into his room. He closed it behind him and watched as Harry stood awkwardly in the center again. 

“Sit or something, you look weird,” Draco said, crossing his arms as he sat on his desk. Harry sat at the desk chair was was pulled out very far from the table. They both stared still, not being able to find the words. It was very quiet, the fan spinning was even heard. 

Harry covered his mouth, he started laughing. Breaking the silence, Draco looked at him and couldn’t help but laugh as well, letting it fill the room. It was airy and light, and they didn’t know why they were laughing, nothing about the situation was funny but they sat there and laughed. 

“You threw wine on your father,” Harry said through his laughs. 

“I threw wine on my father,” He said. “Bloody hell, I threw wine on my father,” He repeated, his laughter fading. “Oh crap,” He said, biting his lip. Harry’s laughter stopped, he looked up at Draco. 

“Why did you?” He asked. “You didn’t have to do that,” Harry said. 

Draco stood up, “He was being ridiculous and acting like a git,” Draco said, as he began pacing. “I am screwed, he’s going to bloody kill me,” Draco said. 

“I don’t think your mum would let that happen,” Harry noted, watching him pace back and forth. He had seen this once before about a year ago when Draco landed them in detention and lectured Harry for the entire hour. 

“That’s true,” He said, stopping for a moment when Harry stood before continuing his pacing. His arms were crossed and his brows were furrowed as he thought. 

“Malfoy?” He said, taking a step toward Draco.

“Yes, Potter?”

“Why do you keep defending me?”

Draco stopped again. “Because I can,” He said, his back facing Harry. “You should leave,” Draco said, not daring to turn around. 

Harry stepped even closer, “Malfoy–”

“Potter, you need to leave.”

“Draco,” He said, tilting his head. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“What do you want me to say?” His voice was a whisper.

“I want you to tell me the real reason. Because the rubbish ‘i want to’ excuse may have worked with your father but it will not work with me,” He said, reaching down and grabbing Draco’s wrist. It was bare and he felt the soft skin against his fingertips. 

“You're worth more than what people say about you,” He started, the floodgates opening again. “Especially the Malfoy’s. My family’s opinions, your family’s opinions, they mean nothing in comparison to who you actually are. God, you are bright and beautiful, and after everything I have done and said you’re still giving me a chance. You are still resilient and stubborn and it pisses me off.”

“Draco,” He whispered, staring into his back, his head hung low as he continued speaking. 

“You’re Harry Bloody Potter, you’re the person who I have known almost longer than anyone. Of course, I’d defend you, even with the stupid questions you ask.”

A grin spread across Harry’s face, “Do you fancy me?” Harry asked, tugging Draco closer by the wrist. 

“How the bloody hell did you come to that conclusion–” He turned around and looked at Harry, whose bright green eyes were close enough to look up at him. His nose was still red from the cold and a cheeky grin was spread across his face. 

“Do you?” He asked in more of a whisper this time, tugging Draco down a little to face him. Draco could hear his heart beating in his ears. Draco leaned downward, inches away from his face.

“Did you drink any of the wine, Potter?” He asked, voice careful with each word. 

“You were next to me the whole time, but no, I didn’t,” He said, his breath against Draco’s lips. 

Harry leaned closer and one of Draco’s hands started reaching for his waist, “Do you–” Draco was cut off by a knock at his door. 

They both halted in their actions, Harry’s hand still holding onto Draco’s wrist, looking up into each other’s eyes. Draco’s hand floated mere centimetres away from Harry’s waist. 

“Draco, it’s your mum!” Mrs. Malfoy said. They immediately moved away from each other. “I know it’s late and Potter should be getting home now,” She added through the door. 

“Right,” Harry said, looking down. 

“Right,” Draco agreed. 

“I will text you,” Harry said, looking at him. 

“I will be waiting.”