Chapter one
It was the eighth year; it was a sunny day and Harry decided he was going to spend it drawing some sort of cartoon character on the piece of parchment that he should really be writing his essay on because school is useless.
He found out he was actually pretty good at drawing while him, Ron, and Hermione were running for their lives last year, cause what else do you do when faced with an inevitable death? Back then, he just wanted to kill some time while ’mione and Ron were busy clawing at each other’s throats. So, with their limited supplies, he started doodling. And after Luna told him that his drawings were “quite beautiful” in the Malfoy Manor’s cellar, he started to see it too.
He was also really enjoying it; he found out that he most preferred realism and portraits, relishing in being able to display people’s emotions so well when he can’t do it himself. Often, he’d find himself just looking at the people that were sitting outside on the school grounds, observing them, their body language, expressions and words. It was amazing what you can learn about people from just observing. You’d be surprised how many people are actually just annoying twats, it’s like 88% of everyone.
He wasn’t really that social anymore, you know, being a child soldier in a war will do that to you. Not to mention his PTSD, anxiety, depression, trust issues, attachment issues, abandonment issues, familial trauma, daddy issues, mommy issues and his constant dissociation, yeah, let’s say his social battery wasn’t too full these days.
He still hung out with Hermione sometimes, because she was nice to talk to, but that was most interaction he really had nowadays. So right now, he was sitting on the damp grass getting against an old tree in the forbidden forest close to a small lake. It was a beautiful open spot where no one came (quite literally. Anyone who tried to hook up here would probably be jump-scared by the centaurs that liked to wander by).
A lot of people already feared the place before, which was only worsened because of what happened there during the war. It’d surprised Harry that he felt so comfortable there, he had expected to feel weird, y’know, with the whole dying thing. Some people had started the rumors that Voldemort’s spirit still wondered there, which was stupid, why the fuck would he pick this place? It’s boring as shit.
When Harry first found the spot, he was trying to escape everyone else, it was nice. Quiet and peaceful, with no one to bother him. Also, the creatures that lived there were really nice, whoever said that they were ruthless monsters needs to get their brain checked, you have not known true joy until you've hung out with a mooncalf that decided you were acceptable to lie down on. And for most of them counts, if you don’t bother them, they don’t bother you.
So, he claimed the spot as his and so far, no one had found him here yet. It was truly great for procrastination because of the lack of this thing called 'Hermione Granger'. He almost never did his homework because why should he? Don’t do your homework kids, it sucks. Though most of the teachers let it slide because of his status. Meaning he did fail all his tests, but does he care? No, you shouldn’t, fuck school.
His grades were dropping, and he was failing most of his classes, but then again, he was way too depressed to care about it, so what do you do? Procrastinate until you have no concept of time and space and feel like the whole world is moving around you while you’re stuck in place with no way to get out other than dying. But we’re not going to get into all of that right now! No, no. We’re procrastinating those thoughts and pretend that we’re doing fine and see it as a way of coping. No need for therapy.
Which meant that now he was thinking about who he should draw next, he considered doing a boy (god he wishes), which honestly is a very good consideration, since his last two drawings had been girls. He was thinking of a person who would be a good model for his next drawing, but honestly? There’s a lot of ugly people in this world, no offense.
Lost in his thoughts, he got startled when he heard something moving in the bushes and quickly got up, it was probably nothing, but you had to be careful anyways. He had no desire to be bitten by a werewolf on such a lovely Tuesday afternoon.
He looked up to where the sound came from, it was probably just an animal passing by. But then he heard the sound getting closer. He grabbed his wand and held it steady in his hand. He tried to find out where the sound was coming from and right as he located it, he spotted a figure running towards him. Now when normal people are in this situation, they turn around and run, but this is not a normal person, this is an absolute fool, so Harry stayed still and pointed his wand towards the moving mass that was quickly getting closer.
Strangely, whoever it was decided to run through the bushes and trees, making it hard and probably painful to get through, instead of a normal path. But they didn’t seem to mind it. Now that Harry looked closer, he realised that it actually looked that the person was running away from something, which was another obvious sign for him to start running. He didn’t of course, but it was a good hint.
The figure was rapidly coming closer and didn’t seem to notice Harry, too caught up in their own mind. Harry thought the person looked manly, around his age maybe. It certainly wasn’t a professor. Harry couldn’t see his face because was holding his arms out before him so that the branches wouldn’t scratch his face. So of course, the guy didn’t see that he was running straight towards a very confused Harry Potter who was pointing his wand at him.
The confusion didn’t last too long though, as soon as the other person reached the clearing it was immediately replaced with annoyance and the wish for God to fucking kill him. The boy, who was indeed of his age, bent down, looking at the grass, leaning with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath from the intense workout. Once he finally realized that there was someone standing in front of him, he jumped up and looked at Harry with frightened eyes. He was still sweating and panting but quickly pulled his wand out nonetheless.
He was trying to even out his breath, but it didn’t work, the idiot.
“OOh… ermm… Po-Potter. Wha…What are you doing her-here?” He tried to sound tough, truly, A for effort, but he was obviously shaken up from something and the stutters in his voice showed that.
“Malfoy, I-I could ask you the same.” His voice was shaking slightly for no reason, and he didn’t like it, though a person did just come running at him full speed, so he guesses he does have a reason. Malfoy fixed his posture and put his usual face of ‘better than thou’, except the redness in his face made it a little harder to take seriously.
“That’s absolutely none of your business, P-Potter.” The blond raised his wand and Harry instinctually shot off a hex, cause when has Malfoy raising his wand ever been a good sign?
The guy quickly jumped away though and the spell missed him by an inch. He tried to retaliate but his hands were shaking way too bad, and he missed by miles, giving Harry plenty of time to cast another spell.
“Stop! Stop! Potter! Look! I’m not here to fight, please!” He lowered his wand and after a couple seconds of consideration Harry hesitantly did the same, but he kept it steady in his hand in case he needed it.
“Then why are you here, Malfoy?” He wasn’t too surprised by his angry tone, but he was still a little shocked by his own voice, he hadn’t shouted at someone in a long while. The other looked Harry in the eyes for just a second, and then quickly looked down at the ground again, not saying a word.
“Well...? Tell me, Malfoy! Don’t just stand there so uselessly!” Harry tightened his grip on his wand and took a threatening step forward causing Malfoy to jump back and start muttering apologies that Harry couldn’t understand. He took another small step forward and tried to look the other boy in the eyes, but the blonde looked straight to the ground and avoided any kind of eye contact, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
“What are you saying?” He was still talking loudly and apparently Malfoy didn’t like that, because he jumped again and started talking louder as well.
“ImsorryImsorryImsorryImsorryImsorryImsorry” He was gasping out every word desperately and closed his eyes tightly. When Harry stepped even closer to ask what he was apologising for, the blond fell to the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to protect himself. It was only then that he realised the other was having a fucking panic attack, God he was stupid, he dealt with these all the time, how didn’t he see what was happening? Hint: It’s because he’s a moron.
He quickly stepped back and crouched down on his heels, trying to get on the same level as Malfoy. Who was repeating the same words over and over through the tears that were now leaking out of his eyes.
“Hey… Hey Malfoy, it’s okay, you don’t need to apologise. It’s okay. I’m not mad. Please calm down.” He didn’t want to touch him, it’s the last thing a person can do while in a panic attack, but he wasn’t getting the other’s attention. The boy was now struggling to breathe though his sobs. Let alone process to the words that were being thrown at him.
“Hey! Draco, c’mon, focus on my voice. You can do it. Try to breathe, breathe in… breathe out alright? It’s alright, you’re okay.” He overexaggerated his own breathing to try and get Malfoy to match, which seemed to slightly work, he’d at least stopped talking.
“Okay good, good that’s great. Keep going, just focus on your breathing, everything’s fine. You’re doing great. In… and out, yes just like that.” He slowly got him to a point where he was breathing semi-regularly again, but he was still hiding his face in his knees so Harry couldn’t see his face for any signs of how he was doing.
“Hey Malfoy, can you please look up? Just for a second.” The blond boy shook his head no and Harry sighed.
“C’mon please? It’s alright, you just need to see for yourself. It’s completely safe, you’re safe, nothing’s wrong. I promise.” He sat down beside him, not touching him, but establishing a stable presence, nonetheless. He stayed there, sitting, keeping his breathing regular for Malfoy to follow and after a couple of minutes he slowly raised his head and wiped his nose on his sleeve, not looking Harry in the eyes.
He looked horrible to be honest, but who doesn’t after an intense panic attack? There were tear tracks on his face, his eyes and nose were red, and he had bags under his eyes, his hair fully dishevelled.
“Hey there, you better?” Malfoy took a deep breath, looking at the grass in front of him.
“Yeah, I’m fine Potter.” There was an attempt at a snarky tone, but it didn’t really work.
“You didn’t look it just a minute ago, you actually still don’t. You look like shit.” That got him a reaction. Finally being looked at Harry shuffled a bit closer, which apparently wasn’t appreciated. Malfoy sniffed and quickly stood up and wiped down his clothes.
“Goodbye Potter.” He turned to walk away with a glare. Harry quickly stood to follow.
Wait! Malfoy.. I’m sorry I just-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence because the other was already walking away, his back turned.