but, baby no, sometimes things don't work out the way we've planned
Harry hears the distinct, low rumble of the statue sliding against the stone floors of Hogwarts. He makes the water ripple with his startled movement. Harry freezes, watching the entryway carefully, his heart racing as the hall on the other side becomes more visible. Despite every part of him screaming at him to move, to crouch down in the water, and to hope the person didn't see him, he stands there, his torso exposed above the water. His glasses rest on the other side of the bath, just out of reach. Harry wouldn't be able to see who was on the other side of that door, even if he squinted.
"Potter?"
"Malfoy?" Harry's eyes are wide as Malfoy steps into the room, the statue sliding to close the gap in the wall. Malfoy clears his throat. "Why are you here, Potter?"
"Are you blind? I'm taking a bath."
"I can see that. Why are you here, of all places?"
"I came here for some peace. That failed, as you can tell," Harry grumbles. Malfoy glares at him. Neither of them has moved a muscle. Harry has never felt this nervous before. He likes to think he's rather decent at talking to others, no matter their age or social status, but for the first time in his life, he can't think of anything to say. What can you say in a situation like this, in the tub while your rival stands ten feet away? Harry can only do one of two things: get out of the tub and have Malfoy see him naked, or Malfoy gets in the tub and sees him naked. Either way, Harry's going to be seen naked. Harry would rather drown himself.
"You know what? I'm not doing this. It's late, we're both likely exhausted, and I don't want to fight with you over this. I'll get out, go back to my tower, and we'll never speak of this again, got it?" Harry says, more assertive than not.
"We don't speak of this, not even to each other," Malfoy agrees, then turns to allow Harry to get out of the bath. Harry quickly hoists himself over the side, grabs his towel, runs it over himself, and then slips on his robes and slippers. It's uncomfortable with his body still slightly wet, but he'll manage if it means he doesn't need to stand here any longer. Harry stands there for a second, and once the water settles, Malfoy turns and says, "What are you waiting for? Get out."
Harry nods, walks toward the entrance, then turns back to face Malfoy. Malfoy has an eyebrow raised at him. "I, uh, glasses," he says, and Malfoy lets him grab them from the side of the tub. Harry rushes out and convinces himself he can see Malfoy grinning as he is leaving.
____
"Today you lot will be..." Snape's voice trails off. Harry can't pay attention for the life of him. He's slightly leaning on the table he shares with Ron, and his head is being supported by his right hand. He's staring directly across the room, his eyes piercing into Malfoy's. They've been holding eye contact since class started almost fifteen minutes ago. Harry can't bring himself to look away, despite his heart threatening to fly out of his chest. His mind scatters to last night, hearing Malfoy's voice and his grin. His stupid grin. Harry hates the grin Malfoy puts on whenever they interact. It's so smug. It makes anger flutter in Harry's stomach.
Malfoy grins, still holding eye contact.
Harry's stomach flips. In anger, he tells himself. He grins back, hoping he mirrors the same smugness Malfoy manages each time. Malfoy's grin widens into a smile, and Harry can't help but follow him in doing so. It's purely an accident when he lets out a small chuckle. When he does, Ron glares at him. Harry can't bring himself to care all that much, not when Malfoy does the same. He's sure he must look crazy, but it's fine with him as long as he's not alone. He'd rather be crazy with someone else than be alone. Even if that person is Malfoy, and even if he's in a class where the teacher hates him,
"Potter, what is so funny about the Unforgivable Curses?"
Snape's voice cracks through the stone room and sends goosebumps down Harry's spine. Harry shoots up, now sitting straight up in his chair. His smile is wiped clean off his face. Malfoy's grin is gone, too, he notices. Why is he still looking at Malfoy? He finally snaps his eyes away from Malfoy, focusing his attention on Snape. Who is now right in front of him. When did that happen?
Harry's mind scrambles. He hates it when Snape singles him out, even when he deserves it. No matter what, Snape will blame Harry for anything that happens in this room. Harry should just give up on making excuses. Snape doesn't care what he has to say; Gryffindor will lose points despite what Harry says.
"Nothing, sir," Harry whispers under his breath, just barely audible. Snape sneers, "Ten points from Gryffindor."
Harry sighs. He can feel Ron's glare to his left, along with all his fellow Gryffindors in the room. Harry can't seem to stop getting in trouble. Yet, somehow, he feels like it was worth it. He got to see, just for a second, a glimpse of what Malfoy was really like. For once, his facade faded from that of a cocky teenage boy to that of a more timid, shy teenager. Harry has always wanted to know who Malfoy was, underneath all that hatred and smugness. Even though Harry couldn't stand Malfoy, or his family, for that matter, he still felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. He knows that Lucius Malfoy isn't a very great father; he's too focused on tending to Voldemort to care for his family. Harry doesn't know much about Malfoy's mother. No one does.
The main thing most people know about the Malfoy's is their loyalty to Voldemort. Lucius is known for being one of Voldemort's closest Death Eaters. He'd do anything for Voldemort. Harry can't imagine what it was like for Malfoy to be raised like that. Was everything he knew about Malfoy wrong? Was he just misunderstood? Does he even want the life his parents have made for him?
Harry feels he knows the answer to each question. He just hopes to God that he's right.
***
It's happening again.
Harry can't stop looking at Malfoy.
It doesn't matter if he's supposed to be helping Ron with a spell or if Malfoy is staring right back at him. He just can't help himself. Harry doesn't know why he's acting like this. Why is Malfoy all he can think about? Why won't Malfoy leave his mind?
Harry narrows it down to two things: he has a crush on Malfoy, or it's just his burning hatred for the other boy. He decides to go with hatred. Hatred makes people stare at each other for entire classes, right? Right.
Harry makes a mental note to ask Hermoine about it when he gets the chance.
"Potter!"
Harry jumps. This has to be his longest streak of having Snape yell at him. It's happened in every class for three days now. Harry can't bring himself to care. His eyes dart over to Malfoy, who's chuckling at Harry with his friends. Harry never noticed how white his teeth were. How pretty his laugh-
"Potter, Malfoy, I expect you two to clean the dungeons tonight," Snape says before continuing the lesson. Harry hasn't looked away from Malfoy. His eyes meet Harry's, and they both grin at each other.
What the hell is happening? What happened to them being mortal enemies? They used to fight whenever they were in the same vicinity as one another, yet here they are, smiling at each other. What would their first-year selves think of this?
Was Harry wrong about Malfoy the whole time?
Harry's stomach turns at the thought. Maybe Malfoy, all this time, just wanted a way out. Approval. Someone to see him.
He hopes Malfoy knows that he sees him. He understands after all this time.
***