(Hospital) Bed talk
Harry took Remus' advice; he had reached out to Draco through letters...hand signs, and even tried to ask him to meet him once. Professor Snape intervenes, telling both of them that violence and underage dueling that takes place outside a dueling club is against the wizagomont law.
"What is wrong with you, Potter? There must be something monumentally wrong with your head."
"Can you sound less princely, please? My head still hurts from that bludger..."
"Oh, excuse me; of course I will adjust to your injury, which was entirely your fault in the first place."
Brushing his hair back with a quiet sigh, Draco stares at the ceiling of the hospital wing. Admittedly, he panicked when Harry approached him shortly before the game...somehow catching the blonde alone without any of his friends, which isn't a thing Slytherins usually do.
One thing leads to another, and they were about to duel in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Severus had called him a cornered cat just to make a point that he had overreacted, even though he still wasn't sure what Harry's intentions were in trying to drag him behind the stands.
If you were to guess that a bludger hit Harry in the head, causing both of them to collide and end up in the hospital with concussions, sprained wrists or ankles, and a cracked skull, you'd be correct.
Unfortunately, both houses assumed it had been a plot by the other and immediately started several little brawls across the stands.
Which ended up costing Slytherin 108 and Gryffindor 72 house points.
It was also the reason why nobody was in the hospital wing with them. Luckily, the professors could intervene before any serious injuries happened, but they forbade anyone from visiting the two patients. In fear that another confrontation would take place.
This time, in the hospital wing itself.
"I didn't mean it like that, Malfoy; don't be so dramatic all the time. Can you please talk a little quieter? My head is killing me; that's all I meant...sorry that I said it so...so weirdly. Words are hard for me sometimes. Go ahead; I know it's funny."
Draco didn't think it was funny at all. It had taken him a long time to learn how to talk properly. How to read a social situation properly so you don't embarrass yourself or your family. Learning how to express yourself properly has done wonders for his anxiety.
"You're not that interesting, Potter; my world doesn't resolve around you."
"Very funny because everyone always says mine revolves around you.
Blinking startled Draco goes still. His throat is dry, and he can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Everything seems to quiet down, so all he hears is his own heartbeat. Did Potter seriously just say that? He must have misheard him.
"It was really rude of you to just glare at me with those...those stormy gray eyes during a sea storm just because I wanted to talk to you."
Without noticing what he is actually saying, Harry continues talking.
"I mean, really, what was I supposed to do?? You burn all my letters or just vanish them; I'm pretty sure I saw you use one as a cupholder once. Every time I try to catch you after class, you're always, and I mean always, with your friends. Kind of like depending issues...wait no, that doesn't sound right."
"Attachment and co-dependency issues!"
Harry nods to himself with a satisfied smile.
"I bet you even bribed Snape to get in my way! He interrupted me so many times! I mean...he doesn't even have the map and he's just always there. Are the rumors true? Is he a vampire? You can be honest, Malfoy, I won't tell- okay maybe I'll tell Ron—yeah, pretty sure I'd have to tell him."
Draco couldn't do anything but stare at the Gryffindor; he had been confused about what exactly was wrong with him. Before remembering the assortment of potions Poppy and Severus had either forced him to drink or rubbed all over him, He's probably really high right now.
"Comee onn Malfoyy, I just wanted to talk, and you were so rude, so you can—wait, what did I want to ask again? I forgot..."
"Potter. It would be in your best interest if you shut up now. Your health will certainly thank you for it, I'm sure."
"No! You're finally talking to me, and we are not allowed to leave, so now is perfect!!"
"I thought Professor Lupin would have done a better job raising you. You don't care about my opinion at all, Mr. Potter? It's certainly a consent issue you've got there. I feel bad for the lass that will have to call your ugly mug husband one day."
"oh, wait..no"
Draco couldn't hide a little snort. He could basically see how the gears started turning in the others head as he realized what Draco intended to imply. After all, he usually selects his words very carefully before speaking.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy; I didn't mean to force you to talk to me."
Now he looks like a kicked nibbler; that is just uncalled for.
"We can just be quiet, I guess. Can I just say one last thing? Please?"
"If you must..."
Even though he drawls as if he expected Harry to say something irrelevant, his attention is fully focused on the Gryffindor next to him. Watching the way Harry flexes his fingers before subconsciously tapping his finger on his thigh, mapping something out that Draco couldn't make out.
"You... okay, wait, uhm...you told me on the train. You remember that stuff, right?"
"Yes, Potter, I do remember the waste of time I had to endure thanks to you. Do go on so I can rest."
"Right, of course. So, what you told me got me thinking. I couldn't get it out of my head, so I asked my friends, who weren't all that helpful, and I asked my dad. Who gave me even more to think about, and then, get this, he told me to just ask you because it's a Slytherin topic, so I should be asking a Slytherin."
"What a bizarre thought; one could think there are some Gryffindors with a brain in their skull."
"Hey!! Hermione is super smart too; you two always battle for the top spot."
"and yet I always beat her because she might be booksmart, but she certainly doesn't listen to magic like a wixen should. We can argue about this, or you can ask your question while I'm still entertaining you."
Harry groans as he sulks, wanting to defend Hermione, but he knew that Malfoy was a stubborn person, so they would probably just talk in circles.
"Fine, whatever... tell me about why Slytherins are actually the victims of this school."
Rolling his eyes, Draco wasn't surprised by Harry's primitive choice of words, wondering whether or not he should answer. Technically, he doesn't have anything else to do right now, and how often do they spend time together without insulting or fighting each other?
"I never said we were victims, Potter; simply that one should pay attention to their own house before accusing mine."
"Oh, don't get posh, you know what I mean!!"
"Perhaps, but I want an equal exchange of information. One question for one question, you answer first."
"Why do I have to answer first?"
Malfoy shrugs with an impassive expression. "You are the one who wants something from me; why would I just give it to you? That would not be very smart of me now, would it?"
Groaning annoyed, Harry plops down back into bed. "Of course you would be like that, Slytherin," though Malfoy looks woefully unbothered, just looking at his fingers. "Fine, what do you want to know?"
Malfoy smirks a little. "Did you bribe those Weasley twins, because somehow you always evade their more...creative pranks?"
Somehow Harry had expected something more complex, something more serious, like asking about some secret Gryffindor stuff (not that there is any to tell).
"I didn't bribe them... I invested in them! Their mom isn't very supportive of their career path; she thinks it's childish, but I think it's rather brilliant!!"
"That makes a lot of sense, for Gryffindors, of course."
Harry couldn't help but snort, because it was a very Gryffindor thing to do. After all, he had offered to invest without any ulterior motives; they didn't even have a proper contract drafted.
"Alright, my turn! What did you mean when you said that?"
"You will have to be more specific; I say a lot of things."
"I should have known you would be such a dick about it; fine, be like that! How are we villanizing you?"
"Mhh, well, I'm sure you were told how Slytherin is the evil house. You only get sorted into Slytherin because you have evil blood or something along those lines. Maybe you were told stories by your guardians about all the other houses, how fun they were, and how nice they were, except for Slytherin."
He had to think it over, but Malfoy was right. Sirius had always complained about Slytherin and how horrid his relatives were, not to mention Professor Snape. If Remus or Sirius told him stories, it was usually just about Gryffindor; they didn't have many friends who weren't in their house. The Weasleys had also shunned the house, and Neville's grandmother was the worst of all; in her opinion, only Gryffindors had any worth.
"Your silence speaks volumes, Potter. How would we have stood any chance against someone who already thinks the worst of us? I offered you my hand, yet you refused me."
"Yeah, because you were a git who insulted my friend!"
"I made a mere observation, Potter; just because you are not used to someone speaking directly doesn't mean you have to hold a grudge against me like this. I admit, I could have worded it better, but I was an eleven-year-old spoiled child who got everything to compensate for the hate the world would show me because of who they are. You could have cut me some slack."
Closing his eyes Malfoy leans back and carefully thinks about his words; he had already said more than he intended to do, but Potter always brings it out in him.
"My turn. Who will be the next seeker after we graduate?"
"I knew you would play dirty; it'll be Ginny. Shes bloody good though, so you can expect to lose the year after we graduate as well." Malfoy didn't look surprised at all, simply humming contently. "You said politics play into your prince thingy; what do you mean?"
"You really do not match your question to my mind at all; how unfair, Potter."
"It's your own fault; you should have specified the rules if you didn't want this to happen. Now answer me."
"I could refuse and end our little game, but it's not that serious. Gryffindors, you're all so nice and trusting, but Slytherin is different. Trust is earned, not given; we have to earn our place in our house. The more points you gain, the higher you stand. The more points you lose, the lower you will fall. One of the ranks could be compared to a prince, hence the nickname."
"But you've been called that since, like first year!!"
"What can I say? I've always been impressive Potter. It is nice of you to finally notice. Since you deem it proper to ask such political questions, it is my turn. How do you get around school without being caught even after curfew?"
Harry freezes, holding his breath as he feels a hot flash going through his body. His throat suddenly feels very dry, and he has trouble swallowing. He couldn't answer that question. They'd have to stop.
"I have a map that shows me where everyone is currently on the Hogwarts grounds-"
Malfoy's head snaps up as he stares at him with wide eyes; however, upon seeing Harry's freaked-out expression, he figured that he hadn't meant to say it.
"And here I thought you had an invisible cloak." Joking lightheartedly to relax the skittish Gryffindor. Why? That's beyond him, but quite frankly, he had never seen Potter this freaked out, and it was making him uncomfortable.
"..."
"Oh, for fucks sake, Potter, you have got to be joking?! I certainly was when I mentioned an ANCIENT and MYTHICAL cloak that should not exist, especially not in the hands of a teenage boy!!"
"Remus and Sirius monitor when I have it, and if I'm irresponsible with it, they take it away, okay??"
"by Salazar, you are an idiot, Potter."
"I'm not!" he crosses his arms, the shock and fear of having told Malfoy already forgotten (for now) while he sulks about being called an idiot. It always hits a sore spot, especially when his close friends say it to him.
"Oh, you are not? What would you call it, confessing to your self-proclaimed nemesis, one of the evil houses on top of that, that you own certain mythical objects that should not even exist?"
"The maps are not mythical."
It was the only response he could come up with without digging his grave deeper. He already knows he would have to hand over both the map and the cloak to Remus now because he told someone...someone who wouldn't keep it a secret.
"Stop breaking whatever brain cells you have left in there, Potter; I'm sure we can come to a beneficial agreement where you can buy my silence in exchange for... a favour?"
"You know what brain cells are?"
"Oh, keep up, Potter; I know about some Muggle things. I'm not a heathen; I'm well educated on a lot of matters."
"right...yeah..sure..cool...cool...cool hmm"
"Can you have your existential crisis after agreeing to do me a favour? Since our little information exchange is probably over now, I'd like to get some sleep. You can continue to panic in silence, of course."
"Thanks for giving me permission, you git. What kind of favour would I be owing you? You can't expect me to just give you that much influence over me."
"Professor Lupin is really admirable; fine, I will go easy on you since your head was so kind enough to get in the way between my precious head and that forsaken bludger. You will owe me one favour where neither of your friends nor you will be directly harmed in the process; that is all I can offer."
Shortly mulling it over in his head, he rubs his eyes tiredly. It hurts to think, so he doesn't really remember what Remus and Sirius had told him about favours and promises, but it sounded as good as any, right?
"Can I have a night to sleep over that?"
Malfoy fixes him with a dry expression: "Of course you can; why don't I go to the Dark Lord and request for him to stop having it out for you while we are at it?"
"You could have just said, No, you git, fine. I agree..whatever. Ugh, my head is killing me, and now you made me think... fuck."
Hesitating for a moment, Malfoy holds out his hand, looking anywhere but at Harry's face. "Muggles like to'shake it', I believe, but Wixen do much the same, so..." he trails off awkwardly, his hand hanging in the air between the beds.
"It's shake on it..not shake it, Malfoy."
He stretches his own hand out before tentatively grabbing Dracos in his own.