Nightmares

Harry couldn’t help himself. Curiosity was in his nature. So when Malfoy darted off to the bathrooms, Harry couldn’t help but follow him- under the invisibility cloak. As soon as he saw what Malfoy was doing, he wished he hadn’t gone. The scene was entirely reminiscent of their meeting during sixth year, a meeting that had ended in Malfoy bleeding out on the floor, by Harry’s own hand. Harry had tried to back away, tried to get out, but Malfoy had run into him.

And he could see it then, he could see that they were going to have a rematch of their previous fight. But in his panic and anxiety, Malfoy hadn’t attacked him, hadn’t even seemed to realize that Harry was there at all. Harry had stood their, stunned, for a long while after Malfoy had gone, unsure what any of it meant. Then the bell rang and he was late, late on the first day of classes with a new professor.

The moment Harry had made it through the door he knew this new professor was going to be trouble. It was that glint behind his eyes, that longing for malice. Harry wondered how McGonagall had selected him to be a staff member at Hogwarts. Were they as desperate for teachers as they had been before the war? Even more so with so many dead and even more still in hiding?

During the entire lesson Harry couldn’t help but stare at Malfoy. The blond would not stop fidgeting the entire time Devereux was lecturing. Harry had never noticed him having a problem with sitting still before. Was this a new thing- triggered by anxiety? Or was it just that Harry hadn’t been paying attention before? Whatever it was, he was paying attention now. He knew what Hermione would say. She’d tell him to lay off and stop being so nosy. And she was probably right. Getting back into old- bad- habits so soon, was certainly a… downgrade… a relapse of sorts.

As soon as the bell went off, Malfoy bolted for the exit, and Harry really couldn’t blame him. He stood slowly, stretching out his limbs. He wasn’t as disgusted by the thought of detention with Malfoy as he would have been in any of his previous years here. Harry was more concerned by the fact that it was to take place with Devereux. His suspicions heightened when Devereux stopped Malfoy.

Harry hesitated. He didn’t know what he intended to do, but it felt wrong to leave Malfoy alone with him. Especially after everything he had seen today with Malfoy being so… delicate. 

Hermione tugged on Harry’s hand gently, trying to gain his attention. “Come on.” She pulled him from the classroom and off the edge of the corridor, away from the other students circulating to their next classes. 

“What’s going on?” Ron asked, catching up to Harry and Hermione as she tugged him along. 

“Harry,” Hermione said, her tone exasperated. “Wants to start up his favorite hobby of eavesdropping on all of Malfoy’s conversations.”

Ron turned on Harry, his ears red with annoyance or anger. “Bloody hell, mate? I thought you were done with all of this! It’s over! Voldemort is dead! There is no reason for you to tail Malfoy.” Harry couldn’t bear to admit to them that he wasn’t really worried about Malfoy being up to anything nefarious, so he pressed his lips together and gave a resigned nod. “Good, now last I checked, we have a free period to enjoy right now. So, should we go to the grounds- maybe visit Hagrid? Or we could hit the kitchens, I’m sure the house elves would love to give us some snacks, or maybe just the common room? What do you think Mione?”

Harry had long since stopped listening. He could care less where they went on their free period. He was far more concerned by whatever Devereux could possibly have to discuss with Malfoy. It had been at least two minutes and still Malfoy had not emerged from the classroom. Cutting off Ron mid-sentence, Harry abruptly asked, “Do you think Devereux could be a death eater?”

Ron groaned theatrically and tipped his head back as though in prayer. “Don’t you dare start up on this again. Not everyone in this school is a bloody death eater, mate. Give it a rest already. Voldemort is gone, I don’t need another year filled with your death eater theories.”

“I was right about Malfoy, wasn’t I?” Harry shot back, annoyed. “It would seem that my instincts are pretty damn accurate, so maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss me.”

“No, Harry, I think Ron’s right on this one.” Hermione said. “You didn’t see the way Devereux acted when he first saw Malfoy. He was so revolted by him and his family, there’s no way he can possibly be one of them.” Harry sighed and decided against continuing to argue. It wasn’t as though he really thought Devereux was a death eater, not really. People could be total dicks without being death eaters.

“What’s up with that anyway?” Ron asked, “Where did you go?”

“To the bathroom.” Harry said evasively. He would not admit to them that he had been following Draco… again. 

“Really? You were late to our first class with a new professor because you were going to the bathroom?” Ron asked skeptically.

Suddenly Hermione gasped and clasped a hand to her mouth. “Harry, your scar hasn’t started hurting again has it?”

Harry was so surprised by the question that his steps faltered and he nearly fell. He only just managed to catch himself against the wall of the corridor. It made his answering shake of the head far less convincing. “Really, I haven’t. My scar hasn’t hurt at all since… since I killed him. It isn’t that. It’s just- it’s weird being back here, after everything that happened. And everything is whole and if you didn’t know a war was fought here, you’d never be able to tell at all. And it’s just… harder than I thought it would be.” Harry finished lamely. He loathed the sympathy in their eyes. They didn’t get it, not really, not in the ways that mattered. But he plastered a smile on his face and pushed off of the wall, striding down the corridor for the kitchens.