February
Early February
Draco sighed and pushed his food about his plate. He’d started eating in the great hall again, trying to ignore the humiliating suspicion that his desire for communal dining was mostly driven by a desire to catch a glimpse of a certain speccy prat that had been avoiding him again of late. Every time he thought he’d outgrown immature teenage melodramatics, reality intruded again to smack him in the face.
Neville elbowed him in the side causing him to flinch. Draco was mostly glad of the company at high table, but suspected that Neville’s decision to take advantage of his high table spot as herbology apprentice rather than his usual practice of sitting with his friends was due to some ulterior motive.
“What is up with you and Harry?” Neville piped up
Urgh.
“Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”
“Well a month ago he was all ‘Draco this’ and ‘Draco that’. He wouldn’t shut up about you. Now every time I even mention you he gets all funny with me and changes the subject. C’mon spill - or I’ll come by later and force feed you Ogden’s until you confess.”
Draco sighed.
“I got my feelings all over him by accident, and since then he’s been avoiding me.”
“Really? Harry? Is he the guy you… shit.. he is isn’t he. You and Harry?”
“Not this Harry. My Harry. This Harry looked horrified I got my feelings all over him. I really hope it’s the Malfoy thing and not the general gay thing. Because that would really be just my luck”
Draco poked his dessert again and then pushed it away with a snort of disgust.
“I’m going upstairs. Feel free to come by later and force feed me Ogden’s anyway”
When there was a knock on Draco’s door an hour later, he opened it before checking who it was, and immediately regretted it.
“You’re not Neville” he said grumpily to Harry, who had a bottle of Ogden’s hanging off one finger.
“I’m not. He gave me a stern talking to - as much as Neville ever can - which is to say not a lot. I come bearing a peace offering”
“Come in Potter” Draco waved him in and marched in to sit back on his bed. Splendid. Just splendid.
“Sorry I’ve been avoiding you. I just got all up in my head. Look - I know you’re not supposed to talk about it, but Neville said something. Did you and I…” he trailed off, and waved his hand vaguely.
“Not you Potter. A completely different Harry. Look - in my world a lot of things were the same. But a lot of things were very different. In my world Neville was supposed to be the Chosen One - not you. In my world you were raised by your godfather Sirius who most definitely didn’t go to Azkaban. You are actually quite different from my Harry in a lot surprising significant ways - although still the same self-sacrificing idiot who set himself against He-Who-Must-Not-be-named from first year”
“I won’t rehash any history. It doesn’t matter. The thing is that Harry - my Harry - he died” How it hurt to say that aloud. Draco felt a tidal wave of grief flow through him, and took a deep breath.
“What you need to understand is you two look the same, and sometimes you act the same, but you are not the same person. Just like I’m not the same as the Draco from your world. I was half asleep and got confused for a moment but it won’t happen again. If you are worried that I’ll suddenly come on to you, then don’t”
An odd expression crossed Harry’s face that Draco couldn’t translate.
“It’s not that. I’m sorry. I just… I freaked out a bit for stupid reasons that don’t matter. And then I made it worse by avoiding you, and I realise that was awful because you’ve only ever been nice to me really. I don’t have a problem with you at all, I’ll stop being a total dick.”
Draco nodded.
“Fine” it wasn’t really fine - but that was nothing new
“Go on and grab a glass then - let me help you with drinking that”
Harry smiled and did as Draco asked. Draco tried hard not to to dwell on the fact the smile was one of Harry’s wide, forced ones.
Late February
Draco sat cross legged on the floor of the third floor corridor, deep in a game of gobstones with Rodrick. Yet again the boy had drifted out of bounds, prompting Athebyne to fetch Draco. Once Draco had arrived he found Rodrick perched almost on top of the trapdoor. It was unsettling. His attempts at browbeating answers out of the boy in the past had been unsuccessful, so Draco had decided to switch to a new tactic. Distraction and stealth.
“So what brought you here Rodrick?”
“Dunno, something felt weird, wanted to check it out.”
Interesting.
“Would you do me a favour and test something? Here - press your hand here” Draco tapped a spot on the wall nearby where the castles magic ran particularly clean and strongly, a deep river of power.
Rodrick shrugged and did what Draco asked.
“Do you feel it? Like a deep vibration coming from behind the wall?’
The boy screwed his eyes closed in concentration, then after a few seconds opened them and gasped, turning a startled face to Draco. Athebyne, who had been watching in fascination, hopped into the boy’s lap, her purr the perfect counterpoint to the rumbling vibration of the school.
“What is it?” Rodrick asked, his eyes round and shocked.
“Hogwarts. Not many people can sense it like us. You are special Rodrick. But you’re not caretaker, that is my job. If you feel the itch of the castle pulling you somewhere again you must tell me, not go merrily trotting off by yourself to investigate. If you can’t find me then call for Athebyne, she’ll let me know. Understood?”
“Understood Sir!”
“Good man. Now let’s get back to playing, I’ve still got fifteen minutes before I need to be on my way.”
They ended up playing gobstones for a good thirty minutes.