Un-Mate

Harry wasn’t sure where Draco had gotten to. It was Saturday afternoon and Harry had been watching him on the Marauder’s Map for a good half an hour when he’d left to grab another sandwich from the commandeered tray that was sat in the middle of the Common room floor, only to return and find Draco’s name having disappeared from its previous location.

“Harry, are you awake over there?”

Neville’s teasing voice can closer as he came to sit next to him on the rug. There was a small fire in the fireplace, despite there being no need, but the presence of it steadied Harry somewhat; all the others had taken seats as far from it as possible. Harry felt hot and stifled but the flames made him calm.

“Sorry, I was-“ Harry paused as he looked up at Neville’s face unsure, “What do you think of Draco being back here?”

Neville’s eyebrows rose as he lent back on his hands. “I made my thoughts clear on that issue earlier this week, why?”

Harry worried at his bottom lip as he folded the map up tightly and stuck it in a pocket out of sight.

“I mean, personal opinion Neville. Not, ‘everyone deserves a second chance’, not ‘it’s a new world for us all,’ I mean real personal opinion. He was a dick to you when he was younger. What do you think?”

Harry watched as Neville shifted, taking his time and considered the words. The rest of the room had faded out to background noise and his hands clenched repeatedly, as if the answer Neville gave might fill in a question he had yet to ask himself.

“I think we’re all products of our environments, but given the correct opportunities, we can always extend ourselves past those restrictions. It would have been easier for him to stay away. He obviously knew what he was coming back into, and he knew what a stir would come out of his designation coming out too. I think he’s brave. If I was him, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to come back, and because of that, he deserves a chance to be better.”

Harry was quiet as he nodded at the words. Brave. It was a strange word; he’d always thought that. People had called him brave before even though he’d been terrified most of the time. It wasn’t necessarily the word he would put to Draco, at least not at the moment. Menace, he thought, or chaos.

“Does he smell different to you now you know is designation? I mean, you’re an Alpha too, does that maybe make a difference?”

“I don’t want to protect him Harry. He’s Draco; he just smells like Draco.”

Neville’s words held an offhand finality.

“Do you think I want to protect him?”

Neville tilted his head to the side. “Do you think you want to protect him?”

“I think I want to strangle him,” Harry paused, “At least, most of the time.”

“Now that would be a uncommon occurrence,” joked Neville, letting out a small solemn laugh.

“I want to protect him.” Harry murmured the words, looking down at this hands as he begun to pull out a small thread of the rug beneath them. “Do you think that’s the Alpha in me?”

“No, I think that’s just you in general. You protect people, it’s what you do, even if they don’t want it, even if they don’t ask. I think maybe the Alpha in you is a little more territorial over him than protective though, you were downright scary the other night.”

Harry nodded, his eyes skating over to the others who were crowded around one of the muggle games that Hermione had brought to school. He could hear the strange pop at the centre of the board that held the dice contained in it.

“I over-reacted a little,” confirmed Harry, keeping his eyes on the group.

“They’ll get over it, just like they’ll get over Draco being here. Everything eventually falls back to the middle Harry; sometimes being around to be there when it happens is all that’s needed.”

Harry nodded, slowly turning back to Neville.

“Oi, Longbottom, get back over here, we need someone with more luck than we’ve got!” Seamus’ voice echoed over the room and Neville gave a single, small smile before getting up to join the group again.

Harry sighed before throwing himself back on the rug and closing his eyes.

*****

Draco was bored, and sick. He’d been refused entry to the Slytherin Common Room due to obviously not knowing the Password and had then found himself profusely ignored by both Blaise and Pansy as they come around the corner from the entrance.

“Blaise,” said Draco with relief, taking a glance up and down him, “Pansy! Thank the giant squid. I was trying to get into the Common Room, you know, for a bit of reprieve, but of course I don’t know the password. Anyway, I haven’t seen you much around, how was your summer?”

Draco felt the words fumble through him, from the moment their names had broached his lips he’d watched as their expressions shuttered first in surprise, then wariness and now in annoyance. He was talking too much, Malfoy’s didn’t babble, at least that’s what he been trained into him with one too many whacks on the hand.

“Hello Draco, unfortunately as it’s not officially our Common room, I don’t think it’s fair we give you the password,” replied Blaise smoothly, his eyes raking up and down Draco’s dishevelled form. Pansy obstinately latched onto Blaise’s arm and directed her stare beyond him, refusing to meet his eye.

“I mean you say that, but you’re obviously going inside. It’s where you’ve been staying isn’t it? You’ve not been in the eighth-year quarters at all.” The words sounded accusatory, and Draco winced at his tone; he didn’t want enemies of them, they were meant to be his friends.

“We asked the seventh years if we could stay here inside, as those quarters aren’t going to be very friendly to us we thought. You’d have to ask the seventh years as well, though I think you and I both know what the answer would be.”

Blaise didn’t wait before walking around Draco, Pansy’s eyes only connecting with his for a second before flicking back to Blaise as they continued onto the entry point.

Draco stood, not sure if he was stuck, or just if he had nowhere else to be and therefore had nothing to tell his body to do. It took quarter of an hour almost, before he realised how wrong it felt just standing there. Shuffling unsure, looking back up and down the corridor Draco felt the walls start to close in a little.

Shaking his head, as if dislodging the feeling, Draco turned to leave from the corridor but found the stone walls bending inward almost, the air feeling less refreshing and he was oddly aware of some sort of rattling in his chest.

“Draco.”

Draco took one startled look behind himself, his eyes not taking in the face of the person there, before he felt himself running. The slap on his bare feet on the stone floor confused him, Where did I put my shoes? He asked himself as he ran the zig zag path through the underground maze, coming out onto the ground floor with huge puffing breaths.

Bent over, exhausted and disorientated, Draco stared at his bare toes and wriggled them a little.

“Find the ground,” he said slowly to himself as he rested his back against the wall and slid down it, “Find the ground she said, find the ground, find the ground, find the ground.”

The words repeated over and over. Draco’s vision swam the kind face of the St Mungo’s attendee who had administered to him on that first day when panic had smothered him.

“Find the ground, find the ground, find the ground, find the ground, find the ground, FIND THE GROUND, FIND THE GROUND, FIND THE GROUND, FIND THE GROUND, FIND THE GROUND, FIND THE-“

“The ground is right below you silly, and in front of you too I guess, it is where your eyes are looking after all.”

Draco paused, as his eyes pushed up through his lashes to meet the face of a crouching Luna Lovegood.

“Did you find the ground?” she asked simply.

“I don’t think so,” replied Draco. Too tired to care about to who he was speaking.

“That’s okay, sometimes I find it hard to find the ground too. Do you want to see if it’s outside?” she questioned, reaching out both her hands to him.

Draco looked up at her again, eyebrows coming down in confusion, the sincerity in her face making his head ache. Draco nodded and let Luna Lovegood haul him to his feet.