Harry doesn’t know when he starts seeing Malfoy—Draco differently.
Maybe it’s in their fourth year when Draco has him by the collar, pushed against the wall with a fire in his eyes. He’s spitting some vitral about Harry’s breeding and muggleborn friends, and it’s such a rare moment where Draco’s careful mask breaks that Harry thinks that this is perhaps the smallest Harry has seen Draco.
Maybe it’s in their fifth year when Harry catches Draco’s eye across the dining hall. He’s so captivated by Harry’s attention that one of his slytherin mates has to wave his hand in Draco’s face and Draco flinches. Flinches in a way Harry knows too well, like he’s suddenly too aware of everything.
The look of fear in his eyes is gone when Harry blinks and Harry thinks maybe he’s got a Dursley of his own.
Maybe it’s their sixth year when Draco passes Harry in the hall without a word. It’s close to midnight and neither of them should be out of bed but they are and Draco has red-lined eyes and a tight grimace on an otherwise pale face. His hair, normally greased to his scalp, is slightly wavy around his face and it makes the slytherin look vulnerable.
Neither of them says anything when they break into the kitchens together, and when they steal a couple biscuits each to take back to their rooms, Harry thinks Draco should start leaving his hair down.
Maybe it’s their seventh-year-that-wasn’t when Harry sees Draco across the battlefield. The slytherin has a brave face securely on but his eyes are wide and scared. They consider each other as Harry is caught in the eye of the storm, friends and allies dying around them.
Draco hasn’t drawn his wand but a Death Eater has a hand on Draco, shaking him like he’s trying to urge Draco into motion. When Draco does, it’s to point his wand at the very man with a hand on him and Harry bites a smile down at the turn of events. He thinks way to go.
Maybe it’s during the aftermath of the Battle when everyone is arguing over blame and sentencing and who’s-deserved-what-fate and Draco doesn’t say a word. When somebody suggests the Malfoys get sent to Azkaban, his mother sobs but Draco doesn’t say a word. He has the audacity to look surprised when Harry defends Narcissa and Draco, and Harry thinks why are you so used to being the victim?
Maybe it’s the first anniversary of the Battle when Draco shows up on Harry’s doorstep. His hair has grown just enough that he doesn’t bother to slick it back and he’s wearing comfortable clothes that don’t force into that straightlaced version of himself. Harry almost doesn’t recognize him.
They don’t talk much but Harry learns that his mother has left his father and Draco doesn’t know what that makes him.
Harry can’t give him any advice but Draco doesn’t seek it, only leaning slightly on Harry as they share a moment of remembrance. There’s no smile on Draco’s face when he leaves, just a calmer expression than he came in with, and Harry thinks he looks better like this.
Maybe it’s the day Draco signs up to serve in the Aurors. There is pushback, but Harry has been serving since 17 and knows the look of man who needs purpose. And so Harry accepts his application and requests Draco join his unit. When he sees Draco at the barracks for the first time, he thinks yeah, he’s getting there.
Maybe it’s the day Draco doesn’t come to training because he’s stuck in his head.
Harry finds him in front of a broken mirror in the barracks, holding a shard of glass to his bleeding arm. Draco doesn’t flinch when Harry places a hand on his scarred arm—marred by the ever-present Dark Mark—but he looks so scared and small that Harry instinctively tightens his grip. Harry says, “Come on, Draco. I have a better idea.”
~
Draco could never repay the mercy of one Harry James Potter.
When he’s eleven, Draco is told that Harry is his enemy. Draco believes it—because Draco’s father says it and Draco’s father is never wrong. Draco takes every negative thought and feeling crammed in his too-small body and shoves it onto Harry like the other boy deserves it.
When Draco’s father hurts him, Draco goes back to school and hurts Harry. It’s a simple cycle and it works for a while.
It works until Draco sees Harry really look at him. Like Draco was the one to be pitied, like Draco was the one without parents, like Draco couldn’t help himself.
Maybe it’s third year or seventh, but Draco’s anger eventually stutters and dies when he sees Harry’s piercing blue eyes on him.
When his life falls apart and Voldemort rips away his innocence, Harry shares a couple biscuits with him at midnight. When his parents splinter apart, Harry lends him his shoulder. When he wants to gut himself, Harry invites him into his team. When he tries to cut the Mark off himself, Harry leads him back to his own rooms where Harry ever so carefully puts his own mark over the scar.
A thestral, beautiful and haunting, who wove around and bit the snake.
Harry, the only one who seems to see him, holding down that broken part of him.