Chapter 1
"Isn't it nice?" Hermione asked, basically bouncing her seat. "We can finally be normal. Like normal students."
Harry couldn't help but grin. "You mean a year at Hogwarts with no mysteries, no one trying to kill me, of age, and I get to be a bachelor?"
Ron and Harry high-fived, but Hermione rolled her eyes and shot a glare at Ron. "Sure the first two, but we get to study! Enjoy the company of our peers, go to Hogsmeade, study-"
"You said Study already, Mione," Ron reminded her with a soft smile. She flushed, and Harry couldn't help but grin at his two best mates.
He genuinely was excited to be back at Hogwarts, as much as he joked around with Hermione. A normal school experience, which he'd never had- even when he was attending a muggle primary school. He was either performing accidental magic or being terrorized by Dudley and his friends, who made sure to make sure Harry didn't have any friends of his own.
But now, he has so many friends. It felt childish to say, and he was sure he'd sound stupid if he said it aloud, but in his thoughts, it was just himself, and he could giddily think to himself that he had friends .
Not just Ron and Hermione- though, they were definitely his closest friends- almost everyone in their year in Gryffindor, Luna from Ravenclaw, and a Hufflepuff student had found their way into their midst over the summer, a boy named Dennis Hartley. Very muggle-born, very kind.
Harry hadn't seen or heard anything of any of the Slytherins from over the summer other than Malfoy several months ago, when he’d gone back to look at how the repairs to the castle were going, but he didn't worry himself with that. He'd testified for the Malfoy family- though, he didn't say much of anything about Lucius except that towards the end of the war, all he seemed to worry about was his son and his well being, which probably contributed to his later, more hasty and messy crimes.
Lucius had been sentenced to twenty years in Azkaban. Narcissa, considering she wasn't marked and merely involved in a few of the schemes, was simply placed on House Arrest for the rest of the year.
When the train rumbled to a stop and they all got up to get off, Harry scanned every student walking by. He saw Parkinson (who let out a squeak and immediately ran from him), Zabini and Nott, both of whom just sent him a curt nod before moving on, but there was no Malfoy. Maybe he’d never left the school?
I have no reason to be looking for him, Harry told himself, shaking his head, and returned to Ron and Hermione's conversation. When they walked into the Great Hall, there were many gasps and murmurs in their direction- whispers of the 'Golden Trio' and 'Harry Potter' and, finally, 'Voldemort'.
Hermione quickly ushered them towards the Gryffindor table, surrounding themselves with other Eighth Years who weren't nearly as enamored by their fame- just excited to see them again, as friends should be.
"Harry!" Seamus grinned, clapping Harry on the back and slinging an arm around Ron. "My favorite buddies-" He lowered his voice, glancing at Hermione as if to make sure she wasn't going to tell anyone else. "I brought fire whiskey and beer. A shite-load of it."
Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron and Harry cheered, giving Seamus a high-five. "As long as you're only drinking on weekends and it doesn't interfere with homework, studies or classes, then I don't care."
Ron grinned, kissing her on the cheek. Hermione really had lightened up over the summer, now that there wasn't a war going on- now that their lives weren't at risk. Ron's temper had also cooled. Everyone was just a better version of themselves. It made Harry indescribably happy to see his friends growing so much.
And yet, some things he couldn't leave behind, he thought as he glanced over at the Slytherin table just long enough to scan the table before returning to his friends.
No Malfoy.
He had to be here. Otherwise, he was violating the terms of his release, and he'd be sent back to Azkaban. What if he'd already violated the terms? What if he was in Azkaban right now, rotting away behind bars?
Harry suddenly felt ill. Malfoy was only his age. Why did he have to go to prison? It didn't seem fair. They were all kids.
If they were gonna praise Harry for doing something when he was a kid, Malfoy shouldn't be admonished at the same age just because his circumstances weren't as fortunate.
For the rest of dinner, Harry felt oddly numb, trying to rationalize where Malfoy could be, other than Azkaban.
Maybe he was avoiding common modes of transportation and dinner? Maybe, since he was working on reparations, he was already at Hogwarts and just hiding? The war was still fresh, and the Malfoy name didn't have as many allies as it did enemies now.
Hermione nudged him in the side, smiling. "Eighth year common room and dorms! Doesn't that sound exciting? We could all study together, as a big group!"
Harry had completely missed the speech, he realized, as he sheepishly asked Hermione what she was talking about. She sighed but gave him a small smile as he pulled him to his feet.
"The eighth years. We've formed a temporary new house, which means we have a new common room and dorms. I wonder if they'll be closer to the library than the Gryffindor commons were?"
As it turns out, they bunked in one of the old towers closest to the front of the castle- opposite of the library, as per McGonagall's instructions on how to get there. Hermione seemed somewhat put out.
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the hall. Just a few dozen feet in front of them, Pansy Parkinson was sobbing hysterically while Zabini and Nott stood in front of her, looking frantic as they tried to console her.
"-Going to kill you, Pansy, don't be ridiculous," Nott spoke, to which Zabini hit him in the arm. "Ouch! Wha-"
"We'll make sure he doesn't come near you, Pansy," Zabini spoke, his voice much softer and reassuring than Nott's had been.
Harry's shoe scuffed the floor and their heads all snapped to look up at the three of them. Parkinson wiped at her eyes furiously, straightening her posture- though she wouldn't make eye contact with Harry.
"Err, sorry," Harry spoke up. "Just... Trying to get to the new dorms."
They stared at him silently. Hermione sighed and shoved both him and Ron forward. Harry moved forward, managing for a few steps, before turning around. "Hey, you..." Harry struggled for words as he looked at the three of them. "I haven't seen Malfoy," he finally blurted. "Is he... Here?"
Nott sniffed, turning away. Zabini offered him a small smile, though it was awkward and didn't really seem to suit him- much less than a sneer or look of indifference did. "He's... around."
"So not in Azkaban?"
He snorted. "No, definitely not there. I'll be sure to tell him you were worried about him, though."
Harry opened his mouth indignantly but snapped it shut, pursing his lips. "I... Err... Yeah. Thanks. Bye."
When they rounded the corner, Harry was almost sure he heard Nott say "Really? You think that awkward mess is going to kill you?" followed by another exclamation of pain.
—
Harry managed a few more weeks without thinking of Malfoy. Classes were taxing as usual, but without a distraction, Harry actually managed to get homework done either one time or, on a few rare occasions, even early, much to Ron's dismay.
"You used to be just as lazy as me," Ron groaned, elbowing Harry in the side on a Thursday night. "What happened?"
"Maybe Voldemort was the lazy one, and it was the Horcrux," Harry suggested with a grin.
"Don't even joke about that, mate," Ron huffed, but he was smiling. "Now help me out with this transfiguration essay, will you?"
"He's never going to learn if you just let him copy off of you," Hermione spoke up, not looking up from her advanced arithmancy book, idly jotting down notes every so often.
"I won't let him copy me. I'll tell him the answer and he'll come up with his own words, won't you Ron?"
"Absolutely, mate!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, muttering something about thinking she'd finally converted one of them but clearly being wrong.
That night, Harry laid awake on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. There were two floors to the dormitories- bottom belonging to the boys, girls on the top- and the floor below the boy's dorms was the common room. He idly wondered what bed was above his own- would it be Hermione's? Or maybe Parkinson's?
Parkinson refused to be alone around Harry, he'd pieced together after a few days. In the common room, she'd be around Zabini or Nott or both, sitting in the chair with the same sort of superiority Malfoy had held. Except, she wasn't nearly as snooty and mean, and even ended up having a few conversations with girls from other houses about make-up charms and other girl things. She still made passive aggressive comments, and stuck her nose up at Hermione on occasion, but was slowly winding down-
Of course, until Harry made his presence known.
He'd made the mistake of asking Luna for help with an herbology assignment- she was the second best to only Neville, who was out with Professor Sprout- while Parkinson was trying to teach her about charms that would keep Luna's glittery eyeshadow to not stain or cover everything in glitter for days.
Parkinson's hands had gripped the upholstery so tightly that her hands drained a pale shade, knuckles going almost pure white against the gray of the chair. She'd immediately excused herself and left to find Zabini and Nott, who were striking up a conversation with Seamus and Dean across the room.
A few days later, Parkinson had actually ran from him in the hall. He was running late to his last class, Astronomy, and evidently Parkinson had too- but she came across him in the call, made a strangled 'eep!' noise and immediately turned the other direction.
He'd tried calling after her, but she acted like she hadn't heard a word he said and vanished around the next corner, her robes fluttering like a dying flame behind her.
Nothing was stopping him from going up and checking- the new tower had no wards or anything to keep boys out of the girls dorms or girls out of the boys- though the girls were pretty protective of their space on their own, so there wasn't a charm really needed.
That much was evident when Ron had tried to go up to spend some time with Hermione and he stumbled back down the stairs with his trousers charmed to be stiff as stone and his hair a bright green color.
Harry could get in with his cloak, but the thought of slipping into the girls dorms while invisible immediately made him hate himself and he pretended he'd never thought of the idea before in his life, turning over in bed, scanning the rows of beds with shut curtains- all except his own and Seamus', who insisted he didn't need privacy, no matter how many times the boys tried to forcefully give him privacy after he kept having wet dreams about Dean in his sleep and waking up with tented sheets.
"We've all got one!" Seamus had proclaimed once, his heavy Irish accent, which was always worse in the morning, loud and jarring as he very unsubtly adjusted himself through his pajama bottoms, getting groans from everyone in the room as they reached their hands up to protect their eyes.
There wasn't another bed for Malfoy, Harry suddenly realized. There was a perfect amount of beds for everyone who needed one- the room was even lopsided, and when the new Hufflepuff student they'd befriended over the summer left because the Bloody Baron insisted on tormenting him, the bed he was occupying had vanished, much to the bewilderment of the other boys in the dorm.
But that meant, wherever Draco Malfoy was, he didn't need a bed. But Zabini had insisted that Malfoy was here.
So where was he?
In a private dorm to avoid bullying?
Though, he hadn't seen Malfoy in any of the classes either. So where the hell was he?
Knowing he wasn't going to get any sleep, he crept out of bed and dug through his trunk, pulling out the Marauders map against his better judgement, opening it up and saying, forgiving the cliché, the 'Magic Words' that had it springing to life.
He scanned the map, heart in his throat as he scanned for the one name he'd gotten so used to finding over the last few years.
His heart almost stopped when he saw the name, written in sloppy cursive, moving slowly around the halls, moving towards the library. Harry tore out of bed, nearly tripping over his own bedding, not even bothering with the invisibility cloak or robes, clutching the map as he ran down the stairs, occasionally glancing down at the ink to make sure he was still heading in the right direction.
He got to the corridor where he knew Malfoy to be and looked down it, finally seeing-
... Nothing.
He blanched, looking down at the map. It showed it, for sure, Draco Malfoy with footprints, standing not thirty paces away from him. He double checked to make sure he was on the right floor, and he was. He looked around one more time, then back down at the map. The footprints were turned to face him, and Harry scanned the corridor again, but he saw nothing. No distortions, no fizzing of light- hell, Harry even looked up toward the ceiling, but he wasn't there either.
Harry quickly realized how ridiculous he looked, standing in gray joggers and an oversized Chudley Cannons t-shirt, holding a piece of paper and scanning the corridor.
Malfoy- invisible, non-existing Malfoy- walked closer to him and Harry didn't dare move, watching the map as Malfoy got closer, and closer, and then...
Passed through him, leaving him feeling cold.
Harry hurriedly turned around and followed. Whether he was following someone else, or something at all, he followed nonetheless.
They were moving towards the front of the castle. Harry would occasionally glance up, look back down at the map, and then keep following.
Harry realized that he could very well be being lured to his death right now- Draco Malfoy was perfect bait. But he had his wand, and he had beaten death two times so far, so what's another one added to the tally?
Feeling kind of stupid, Harry blurted out, "Stop if you can hear me."
The footprints faltered, slowed, and then stopped completely.
Harry's next breath came out stuttering. "Are you leading me somewhere?" Then, cursing his stupidity, added, "Step towards me if you are."
Obligingly, the footprints took a step forward.
"Are you... Are you really Draco Malfoy?"
Another step forward. Harry wanted to ask 'why can't I see or hear you and where the fuck are you' but that wasn't a yes or no question so he sighed and make a gesture that, luckily, the weird invisible non-existent form took as a sign to continue and turned around again.
And Harry followed.