He's Going To Kill Himself, Mandrake
"Harry," Malfoy's voice cried out. Harry flinched from under the floorboards, it was the first time Malfoy said his first name.
Draco. He was bleeding through his robes, like when Harry cast Sectumsempra, blood poured from those horrid scars Harry knew were there. Draco fell, his dull empty eyes met Harry's.
"It's your fault," Harry heard in parseltongue, as cold hands wrapped around his neck. He couldn't breathe. He knew those hands, those sharp nails, that tugging in his mind, and he knew he was going to die.
Draco's lifeless eyes were still on Harry, staring as he struggled against-
"Potter, you have to let me in." Malfoy demanded outside his bedroom door, waking Harry up with a start. He was shaking, sweat covering his skin and his sheets, throat sore like he had been screaming. The dream had felt so real. Draco always made them feel more real.
"Potter, let me in your wards or I swear I'll tear down this entire wall," Draco shouted, breaking Harry out of his sleep. He walked to his bedroom door as Draco continued his annoying yelling, still shaking as he flung it open.
"Merlin's Sake, what time is it Dra- Malfoy," Harry grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he felt the sharp tightness of a hangover growing behind them. He saw Malfoy's eyebrows raise at his almost 'Draco' mistake, he made a mental note to deliberately think of him as Malfoy.
"7. You were screaming."
"Why does it matter to you? Not like I was screaming for you."
"You were, actually."
Harry felt Malfoy's eyes trailing down his chest, and he gently remembered yesterday, "I thought you would've left."
Malfoy scoffed, "Some of us have jobs, Scarhead. I can handle a little sexual harassment for a steady salary."
"It was n- I'm sorry." Harry gently pulled his arms around his bare chest, the sweat was freezing. He supposed it was sexual harassment, he really shouldn't have done that. Panic should be familiar to him, he should know what to do. Draco sighed and cast a warming charm on Harry, his magic felt so comforting, "Thanks, Dra-" he let himself trail off.
"You're allowed to call me Draco, it is my name. I wasn't aware you actually knew it."
"I jus need a fag and I'll forget it again."
Drac- Malfoy nodded, a silent laugh behind his lips. The cigarettes came without Harry noticing, there was one filling his lungs before he thought to Accio them. He was noticing Malfoy's eyes. They were grey, cold, comforting. The dream came back in little snippets; Blood mixed into those eyes. Lifeless at the floor of the Astronomy Tower. Harry hated thinking about school, but it was better to think about Malfoy. Malfoy's skin used to be grey in school, he used to be sickly, strung out and frayed at every end. Harry felt guilty he never thought to help. Well of course he thought about helping him, saving him from himself, pulling him aside in a hallway and begging him to switch sides, making him feel indebted to the world. But Harry knew Malfoy wasn't stupid and he wasn't that heartless, he couldn't ever bring himself to pressure another kid like that- like him. Maybe things would've been better for him if he could. Harry wasn't sure which 'him' he was thinking of. Malfoy. Potter. Both.
"Was it a nightmare?" Malfoy asked, Harry just noticed that he had been staring back that whole time.
"It was." Harry was resigned about it, quiet and solemn as he flicked his lighter absently into the air. "They went away for a while, I think."
"Mine, too."
Harry offered him a fag as he got another one out, both still just standing in the doorway. Malfoy gestured for the lighter, fumbling with it for a few seconds before whispering a frustrated 'Incendio.'
"You're so smart."
"Oh shut it, Pratter. Not my fault muggles can't make anything practical."
"How creative, Mal-Soyboy."
"I'm not even going to ask what that means."
Malfoy's laugh sounded nice, the real one wasn't pretentious it was surprisingly warm. Harry knew he had entirely changed from school- for the better, unlike Harry- but it didn't exactly register. He looked entirely different too, without his auror robes on. Tight trousers and tank tops looked good on him, the sleeve of his loosely draped hoodie hid his forearm. Or rather, what was on his forearm. Deathmarks couldn't be covered up, no matter how much ink and magic you put over it.
"A thestral," Harry mused, reaching his fingers out to Malfoy's neck where the drawn death horse moved up to Malfoy's ear.
"What?"
"Your tattoo, I didn't think you could see them."
Malfoy gave him a strange look, his light eyebrows furrowing together. "I find them comforting."
Harry's fingers were still brushing against the thestral on Malfoy's neck, it was trying to wrap itself around his carotid. It's breath was almost real against Harry's fingertips. He stroked along its mane, only pulling away when he heard Malfoy gasp.
"Sorry."
"Merlin, Potter." Draco sounded exasperated, breathless. Malfoy, Harry corrected himself.
"When do you sleep?" Harry asked as soon as the thought popped into his head, "Seeing as you're the only one protecting me."
Draco smirked, patting a small box set out on one of the many side tables "Who said I was alone?"
Harry heard the faintest hissing coming from inside, "A snake?"
"An Opaleyed Basilisk-" Harry faltered, remembering Tom Riddle's Basilisk, Malfoy seemed to notice "-I trained her with Charlie since she hatched, she even knows how to control her eyes. I learned a little parseltongue."
"Like what?"
Malfoy said a few choppy words, "Eat. Sleep. Swim. Bite. Stare. Frog."
"Frog?" Harry repeated in parseltongue, thinking Draco had said it wrong.
"Yeah, she loves them."
"Didn't think basilisks ate frogs," Harry muttered. Draco was so excited about his snake, it was warming the way his eyes danced with adoration.
"She doesn't eat them, you monster. She's friends with them."
"What's her name, Draco?"
"You do still remember," Draco laughed, Harry felt his face get warm, embarrassed.
"The snake's name, Prat."
"Narcissa like-"
"Like your mom," Harry nodded, he heard Malfoy's mom died not long after Lucius was sent to Azkaban. He didn't think she was a bad person, not like Lucius.
"Right, well, I thought Nagini would have been tasteless."
Harry laughed, "Immensely."
Snakes had been a sore comfort for a while, they plagued Harry's nightmares and held small conversations during the days with little garden snakes. They judged him for everything. Bastards, the lot of them. One particular snake who used to hang around, saw him taking a line once and told him he'd be better off with a Crucio. The bastard even offered to do it for him.
"I'm having a piss," Harry announced, waiting for Draco to turn away before spelling the pill bottle quickly to him. He can't take enough to cause another nose bleed, Merlin forbid he has to kiss Draco again.
"Another long one?"
Harry didn't answer.
Crush. Line. Cut. Snort. Three of the little pills. He actually took a piss while he waited to see if his nose would bleed. Little drops fell from his nostril, but stopped as soon as they started. He had heard good things about cocaine, more bad things, but he did want to try it. Maybe he'd try it if the Ritalin stopped working as well, like he tried Ritalin after the cigarettes stopped calming him.
"He's going to kill himself, Mandrake." Harry heard faintly in parseltongue. Narcissa. Was she talking about him?
"Do you need food, Ness?"
Thank Merlin, Draco didn't understand. Harry flushed and collected himself before coming back out.
"Is your cock broken? Do you need to see a healer?" Draco asked, holding back his snark as he faked concern.
"Piss off, Mandrake. My cock is perfectly wonderful." Harry sniffled and grabbed his cock through his pyjamas to show Malfoy how perfectly healthy it was.
"Mandrake," Draco repeated, his cheeks tinted the slightest bit pink. Narcissa was coiled around his arm, over his hoodie sleeve.
"It's what your snake calls you."
"Suppose you want me to hire you as a translator then."
"You're the one hired by me."
"For you, actually."
"Against what? A bunch of stupid teenagers."
"A bunch of stupid terrorists, Golden Boy. You, of all people, should take Deatheaters seriously."
"Right," Harry sniffled again, disliking the new air of discomfort, and sat down to smoke his last cigarette, "I need a new pack."