Chapter 5
Tracking down the troublesome third years that, to put it a little dramatically, had almost cost Malfoy his life wasn’t nearly as difficult as Harry had anticipated. He hadn’t realised it at the time, but in the short glimpse that he caught of the duo, he’d cemented their faces into memory.
One morning, a few days after Harry’s trip to Hogsmeade with his friends, he was on his way to class when a group of younger students began walking in his direction. Harry instinctively moved closer to the wall so that he could let them pass, but the flash of green in their robes caught his attention and he glanced over at them. Instantly, his eyes snagged onto a particularly tall third year girl, with thin mousy hair and an exceptionally pale, pinched face. He was sure it was her. The girl who’d produced a small vial from inside her robes and dumped the contents into Malfoy’s pumpkin juice.
“Excuse me.” Harry spoke up immediately. He wasn’t familiar with any of the Slytherins, meaning this might be the only chance he got to confront her. The entire group of kids started and exchanged wide-eyed looks. Harry ignored the rest of them and walked straight up to the girl in question.
“I’d like to talk to you.”
The girl peered back at her friends, but they didn’t seem keen on doing anything to help her. Instead, they all continued on their way, huddling closer together before and talking in hushed whispers.
“I know what you did.” Harry said. The girl’s head snapped up, and their eyes locked for a moment before she quickly averted her gaze, choosing to stare at her shoes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said quickly. “Listen, I really have to get to class-”
“If you keep denying it, I’m going to tell McGonagall.” Harry interrupted.
“No!” The girl looked panicked. “You can’t.”
“Yes I can.” Harry took a step closer to her. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you? About what happened to Malfoy.”
Without warning, the girl burst into tears. Harry automatically backed up a little. Even after so many years, he still felt uncomfortable whenever people cried around him. He never knew what to do, especially in a situation such as this one when he had to continue to be angry at the person crying.
“Is he alright?” She whispered. “I haven’t seen him since-” She couldn’t continue and sobbed loudly instead.
“That would be because he’s in the hospital wing.” Harry snapped. “He’ll be okay, no thanks to you.”
“I’m so, so sorry.” she wept. “I swear I had no idea what the potion did, I just did as they asked.”
“You gave Malfoy an unknown potion without knowing what it did?” Harry sucked in a breath to stop himself from cursing at the girl who was now crying so hard her chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? He could have died. Then that would have been on you.”
Harry paused, taking in what the girl had just said.
“And what do you mean, they?”
“Ida Ellison and her lot.” she sniffled. “They have it out for Draco because Death Eaters killed people in their families.”
“You mean Slytherin prefect Ida Ellison? Slytherins are out to harm Draco?”
“Not just Slytherins. Ida Ellison is kind of the leader of the group but it’s really everyone that has a grudge against Draco.”
“Are you part of the group?”
“No!” She exclaimed. “I don’t have anything against him.”
“Then why the hell would you help poison him?”
“Because they told us that if we did as they told and didn’t get caught by anyone, they would make the kids in other houses leave us alone.” She ducked her head. “I know it’s not much of an excuse, but it’s been absolutely horrible. We get hexed in the hallways and people keep stealing our things, hiding our homework, you name it. None of us go anywhere alone anymore, and the other kids who helped prank Draco really aren’t getting harassed anymore, so when they approached me, I thought it wouldn’t be so bad to just do it.”
“Prank?” Harry spat angrily. “You think that welts spelling ‘murderer’ on his back was a prank? Do you think Malfoy passing out from the pain he was in and having to stay in the hospital wing for four days because of the after effects of the potion you gave him was a prank? What’s next, are you going to push him off a cliff and say that was a prank, too?”
Harry didn’t know it was possible, but the girl grew even paler.
“I-I didn’t know.” She stammered. Her eyes welled up with tears again. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Look, what you did was really dangerous.” Harry tried to calm down a little. “You go and tell all your Slytherin buddies that if any of you ever pull one of your stupid pranks on Draco, I’ll hunt you down myself. You’re lucky I’m not taking this straight to the professors, because this would absolutely get you expelled. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” The poor girl looked terrified. Harry sighed.
“I’ll talk to the professors, let them know what’s going on with the bullying, okay? That’s what you do the next time you have an issue with people harassing you. You go to the adults and ask them for help, and they’ll sort it out. Alright?” He tried to soften his tone a little. She nodded frantically.
“Oh and before you go, do you think you could come up with a list of the people who are part of the Draco Malfoy hate club and get it to me as soon as you can? It doesn’t have to be perfect, just let me know what you remember.”
With the promise of the girl, whose name Harry only then found out was Ella Harrington, the encounter ended and they each went their separate ways.
Harry couldn’t help but feel a weight on his chest from all the information that he’d found out. Here he was, thinking how Hogwarts felt like home again, when for a lot of people, that was far from the case. Malfoy had been getting harassed by the people in his own house, and whatever this group surrounding Ida Ellison was, they had it out for him. He’d probably never had a single moment of peace after stepping foot inside the castle. Then there were the innocent Slytherins who hadn’t done anything wrong but were being bullied just for being part of the house that they were in. As much as Harry had little fondness for Slytherins, he was well aware that this wasn’t right.
Harry made the decision then to immediately go and report the bullying to McGonagall, ditching his next class all together. He was already extremely late, he may as well miss it completely and make use of the newfound free time he had.
Harry briefly debated whether or not he should let McGonagall know about the ordeal with Malfoy, but he decided it could wait until he’d talked about it to Malfoy first. The last time they’d had this conversation, Malfoy had been adamant that Harry should not mention a word of this to any of the professors, and since Harry had now identified the threat, he felt that he could respect Malfoy’s wishes for a little while.
Upon hearing Harry out on what had been going on, Professor McGonagall was appalled. She’d been expecting something of the sort to be going on, but since kids tended to get really sneaky with their bullying and professors couldn’t watch their students all day every day, she hadn’t realised just how bad it was. After reassuring Harry that she would be investigating further and making sure that none of it would continue, she scolded Harry on missing the lesson he was supposed to be attending and shooed him out of her office.
Checking the watch on his wrist, however, Harry took note of the fact that there were only around ten minutes left of this class period anyway. Not only that, the hospital wing was on the way back to his dorm, so it really wasn’t out of any concern or desire to see Malfoy that Harry made his way to the hospital wing.
Harry walked in to find the place mostly empty, and Malfoy standing beside his bed. He was barefoot but he had his trousers on and his shirt was left unbuttoned as he stared at the mirror and ran his fingers through his blonde hair in an attempt to make it lie exactly how he wanted it to. From the angle he was standing, Harry could only just barely catch a glimpse of Malfoy’s pale stomach before Malfoy heard Harry enter the room and turned to face him.
“Potter.” For once, Malfoy didn’t spit out Harry’s name with malice. Instead, he sounded mostly surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I, er, thought I’d see how you were doing.”
“Oh?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know we were on such close terms all of a sudden.”
Harry was having difficulty focusing for some reason.
“Sorry, what?”
Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned back to the mirror. After sweeping his fingers through his hair a few more times, he seemed satisfied enough and began trying to do up the buttons on his shirt. Unfortunately, his hands were shaking too hard for him to be able to successfully put the buttons through the holes.
Harry watched Malfoy curse under his breath for a moment as he tried again, but he just couldn’t do it. Harry swallowed, asking himself if he was really about to do this.
“Need some help?”
“What?” Malfoy looked back at Harry irritably. “I don’t need your help.”
“Alright then.” Harry shrugged and crossed his arms. “Go on then, finish up those buttons.”
“Salazar.” Malfoy hissed as he made a few more attempts. Eventually, he let his arms drop to his sides in frustration.
“Potter.” He cleared his throat.
“Yes, Malfoy?”
“Couldyouhelpme.”
“Excuse me? Didn’t quite catch that.”
“Could you help me do up these damn buttons?” Malfoy repeated himself through gritted teeth. Harry grinned and walked over.
“All you had to do was ask.” He said smugly.
Harry had to step awfully close to Malfoy to begin helping him with his shirt. So close, in fact, that Harry could smell Malfoy’s cologne. Harry had to admit, it smelled very nice. Expensive, for sure, but nice. It suited him.
Harry pushed the buttons into place as Malfoy stood there a little awkwardly.
“Pomfrey said the hands shaking is a side effect of the poison,” Malfoy said quietly. There was no need to speak loudly when they were so close. Harry found he liked Malfoy’s voice better when it was quiet. It was deeper than usual, and there was something about Malfoy talking so lowly that felt strangely intimate.
He was halfway down already. The tips of Harry’s fingers accidentally brushed against Malfoy’s bare stomach and Harry could have sworn he heard Malfoy’s breath catch in his throat.
“Thanks, by the way.” Malfoy continued so smoothly that Harry was sure he must have imagined it. He was slightly taller than Harry, and Harry was ducking his head slightly to concentrate, so neither of them had to look the other in the eye. Harry was sure Malfoy wouldn’t be saying any of this if they’d been maintaining eye contact. So he stayed quiet and continued his job, but his hands slowed just a little.
But Malfoy didn’t elaborate and Harry was done all too quickly and he was stepping back.
“What for?” Harry asked as Malfoy tucked his buttoned up shirt in his trousers and sat on the bed to put on his socks. Malfoy looked up as he did so, half a grin on his face.
“For helping me button up my shirt, of course. What else?”
Malfoy quickly put on one shoe, then the other. He then pulled on a knitted green jumper, slung his robes after one arm, and picked up his bag. He glanced around once as if to make sure he was leaving nothing behind, then briskly brushed past Harry and made for the door.
“How about saving your life?” Harry called after him. “Do I get a thanks for that, or what?”
“Oh, come on, Potter.” Malfoy drawled, spinning around to face Harry again without breaking his stride. He looked startlingly different to how Harry was used to seeing him. His hair was still a little messy despite having run his fingers through it so many times, but it was the kind of messy that was pleasant to look at. He was dressed quite casually for school with the dark green jumper that complemented his pale skin, and his eyes were bright. “I thought we agreed that it wasn’t nearly that dramatic.”
With that, he left.
“Charming.” Harry muttered before following Malfoy out of the hospital wing. He just caught sight of Malfoy rounding the corner and disappearing, and felt a pang of worry. For the last few days, Harry had known that Malfoy was tucked away safe in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey’s watchful eye, but now, back in school with no one to really look out for him and a group of people who actively tried to harm him, Harry was now aware that Malfoy was constantly in danger.
Harry fought down the urge to run after Malfoy and- what, exactly? What was he going to do when he caught up to Malfoy? Tell him about the people that were out to get him? He probably knew already. Offer to stick close to Malfoy to make sure no one tried anything? Malfoy would either laugh in his face or be offended that Harry thought he couldn’t take care of himself.
Harry had to face it. There was nothing he could do, at least not right now. But that didn’t mean he liked it. He walked to his next class with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
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Harry couldn’t sleep.
It had been almost a week since he’d had horrible nightmares that kept him up in the middle of the night, but they were back now and stronger than ever. He would doze off only to wake up in a cold sweat, panting and struggling to make sense of reality. Eventually, Harry slid his legs out of bed and secured his cloak over his shoulders. Although it was no invisibility cloak, it was black and would hopefully blend in with the dark castle. Besides, it was beginning to get chilly out, and the cloak would keep him warm.
Treading softly to make sure he didn’t wake his roommates, Harry left the Gryffindor common room and made the familiar walk to the astronomy tower. He didn’t need any light as he manoeuvred his way through the castle until he reached the stairwell because he’d made the journey in the dark so many times ever since his earlier years in the school. Whenever he couldn’t sleep, he’d made it a habit to sit at the astronomy tower for a while, lying down on the cool floor and staring up at the stars until he felt tired enough to go back to bed.
Upon entering the tower, however, Harry was met with quite an unexpected sight that he’d never seen before.
Malfoy was lying in the spot that Harry usually favoured, his hands propping up the back of his head, he was bathed by the silvery shine of the moon which gave the impression that he was glowing. He looked so absolutely perfect, like a fallen angel as the light fell on his blonde hair and his eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks, that for a tantalising moment, Harry forgot how to breathe.
Coming to his senses, Harry was about to turn around and leave, to pretend he hadn’t seen anything, when a soft whimper caught his attention and Harry looked back at Malfoy to find his previously serene, peaceful face crumpled up like paper. His lips parted and he began breathing heavily, and soon enough he began to thrash.
“No, no, please don’t-”
Harry carefully walked closer to Malfoy and knelt down beside the distressed boy.
“Mother,” Malfoy whispered. “No, I’ll do anything, please don’t hurt her. Please-”
Harry thought of Narcissa Malfoy, the woman who’d saved his life in order to find her way back to her son. The next time he’d seen her had been at her husband’s trial, where she’d ducked her head and stayed quiet during the entire hearing. She didn’t even look in Harry’s direction. Then there came Draco’s trial, which she’d attended as well. While giving his testimony, Harry couldn’t quite look at Draco, so he’d looked at his mother instead. This time, she met his gaze, and there was something both apologetic and thankful in her eyes that had forced Harry to look away. He didn’t want her gratitude.
Malfoy’s muttered words began to grow louder until Harry began worrying that someone would hear and come to check it out. He certainly didn’t fancy being caught out after hours, especially since it had been made apparent that detention was definitely not off the table.
Reluctantly, Harry began shaking Malfoy’s shoulder gently.
“Malfoy,” Harry hissed. “Wake up, you’re having a bad dream.”
Malfoy’s eyes flew open instantly with a strangled gasp, his arms flailing wildly as he bolted upright into a sitting position. He barely acknowledged Harry next to him as he buried his face in his hands and took deep, shaky breaths. Harry awkwardly patted Malfoy’s back as he slowly regained his composure.
Then, completely unexpectedly, Malfoy’s entire body crumpled and he fell into Harry, who froze in shock. His old enemy didn’t seem to care as he rested his head in the crook of his neck and relaxed against him, still breathing heavily and in irregular patterns. Slowly, Harry wound his arms around Malfoy and held him close where he was, rubbing his back. He could hear Malfoy’s heart pounding so quickly that it concerned him, but it gradually slowed down as Harry kept Malfoy grounded and Malfoy took deep breaths.
Eventually, Malfoy seemed to have returned to reality as he detached himself from Harry rather awkwardly and cleared his throat.
“Is it just a coincidence that you’re everywhere I go, or are you following me?” He asked in an attempt to sound haughty but it sounded weak enough that Harry laughed instead of being offended.
“Oh, I’m definitely stalking you.” Harry replied sarcastically.
“Knew it.” Malfoy smiled half-heartedly. There was a brief silence that didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable at all. They were still sitting very close, even though they weren’t wrapped around each other any more, and Malfoy took the moment to shift away slightly. Harry pretended not to notice.
“So, what were you really doing up here? Surely not looking for me.”
“Same as you, I’m guessing.” Harry shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Malfoy flushed a little then, embarrassed for the first time.
“I get them too, you know. Nightmares.” Harry talked softly, even though it wouldn’t matter if he spoke a little louder. There was something about the atmosphere in the tower, the moonlight casting odd shadows across the room and bathing Malfoy’s face in a way that gave him an angelic glow, that made him sure that he was supposed to talk as softly as he could.
Malfoy winced.
“What are yours about?” He asked.
Harry tucked his arms into his cloak as he pondered how to answer the question when his fingers brushed against something that he’d forgotten about. He’d meant to give it to Malfoy with the chocolate but he’d left it in his cloak and it had been sitting there for a few days now.
Well, now seemed a good time as any to put it to good use.
“Pretty sure I don’t want to talk about this sober.” Harry grinned, then produced the bottle of firewhisky smuggled in his cloak. “What do you say?”
“Potter, you bloody genius.” Malfoy grinned right back.
They each took turns taking swigs from the bottle, and thus the eventful night truly began.