Chapter Text
“May I have your attention!” announced Headmistress McGonagall to a dining hall of hundreds of eager witches and wizards. “I’m sure some of you have heard the latest news regarding Quidditch, and I am here to confirm those rumors.”
Applause reverberated throughout the room. “While it is true Hogwarts will slowly be reintroducing Quidditch, I do not want to create any false expectations. It will not be anything like before. The teams will consist of players solely from one’s respective dormitory. I want to emphasize that much less focus will be placed on Quidditch this year,” she stated.
Whispers traveled between tables, all worried about the same thing. “There will be no final game this year,” McGonagall clarified. “Rather, games will be informal matches between respective dormitories. That is all.”
Hermione was the first to his side after they were dismissed. “Harry! This is so exciting--you can play Seeker again! What a lovely surprise, especially when the year was beginning to feel so dull!”
He resisted the urge to say I already knew. Draco told me. And he orchestrated it himself. But he didn’t. For some reason, admitting he conversed with Malfoy to Hermione felt like stepping on his own wand. Also, he’d probably be interrogated as to why he hadn’t told his friends about this exciting news already.
Plus, he was dealing with his own battle right now. If he were to join Dormitory Four’s Quidditch team, then there was a very likely chance that…
“Oh but Harry…” Hermione seemed to come to the same conclusion as he. “Won’t Malfoy want to play too?”
They were walking along the gardens outside. Ron had joined them, too. It was drizzling now, but nothing a drying charm couldn’t handle. “I s’pose so.”
“Well, that’s okay!” Ron exclaimed. “Because you’ll have me. Don’t worry, I haven’t given up my love for Keeping!’
“It’s a shame though,” commented Hermione. “That Ginny won’t be able to join your team this time, Harry.”
Harry replied, “Of course not. She’d want to be the Seeker too!” He could already picture Ginny swooping past him in tryouts, snatching the golden snitch straight from his hands. The crowd would roar, and he’d be demoted to Beater. That sounded bloody awful, and Harry was rather glad he wouldn’t have to compete against Ginny for once.
“But doesn’t Malfoy…”
Oh shit. He forgot about Malfoy’s past experience as Seeker. For some reason, competing with him sounded even worse than against Ginny.
“There’s no way Malfoy can outclass me in Quidditch--it’s my speciality.”
“Touché,” replied Hermione. “He may be a competent and highly formidable flyer, but you have your reputation for a reason.”
Hermione invited both Ron and Harry back to her dormitory that night. They cracked open four Butterbeer cans (the fourth was for Ginny, of course). “Cheers to new beginnings! Cheers to Harry becoming Seeker and Ron Keeper!”
They drank and chatted and chatted, all the way until the clock struck twelve. Harry missed nights like these, when his only worry was Professor Binn’s essay about the 1445 Goblin Rebellion due the next day. Okay, maybe that comparison was dull, because Harry was actually pretty stressed for that essay.
Quidditch tryouts were hosted the next morning. It was much easier to secure a spot, given the fact that there were seven open seats instead of one. Madam Hooch conducted the tryouts this year, and promised to do so fairly.
“Best of luck,” Ron told Harry in the changing room. There were about twenty witches and wizards trying out this year for Dormitory 4, which was surprisingly low to Harry. In retrospect, it made sense: take away the reason to love the game and its supporters will drop just as much.
Harry scouted the competition in the changing room. There was Ron, of course. A couple of fifth years he recognized. But then something else, something interesting caught his eye.
It was Draco Malfoy. Harry expected him to be there, of course--given his reputation--but it was his actions that were more surprising. He was still laden in robes, making no effort to change into the Quidditch uniform. Harry realized how strange it was to stare, and followed Ron on his way out.
That was abnormal. Could it be that he didn’t want Harry to see him change? If that were the case, Harry couldn’t exactly fathom why. Honestly, it might just be that Harry had grown hyper aware of everything Malfoy lately.
“You okay?” asked Ron.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing, mate. Best of luck!”
Tryouts were about to begin when Malfoy finally emerged from the changing rooms. Harry didn’t like that he made note of it in his head, but whatever. Except…
Malfoy looked a bit flustered and unkempt, but otherwise determined. Harry was certain this years’ tryouts wouldn’t be so easy, and reverted his focus back to the competition.
The first ones to greet him and Ron afterward were Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. “We were watching! You both did really good,” exclaimed Neville.
“Yep! I wouldn’t be surprised if Ron got Keeper and Harry got Seeker after all,” said Ginny.
“After all?” questioned Ron.
They all snickered amongst themselves, save for Hermione, who said, “It’s one of their little bets again.”
“Seriously though, you both did very well,” Ginny reassured them. “Especially you, Harry. Did you see Malfoy’s face? He looked so jealous!”
“Jealous, huh? Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Half the competition seemed to be there for Harry,” added Ron. “I mean, they were just looking at him with big googly eyes the whole time!”
“Mate, that happened during the first tryout too,” replied Harry, elbowing him and laughing.
It turns out his friends were right. The results were posted on the bulletin that weekend, and, safe to say, both he and Ron received favorable results. Malfoy was given Beater, which was fitting given his personality. After that, Pansy stuck her tongue out at them even more so than usual.
Everything seemed strange lately: from Harry always getting his way (he normally didn’t) to Malfoy’s reclusive behavior. But all of that was about to change very, very soon.
It all started in Care of Magical Creatures, Harry’s favorite class. He opted to take NEWTs for it simply because he loved it so much with Hagrid. However, this year Professor Grubbly-Plank had taken a permanent position in place of Hagrid. Nevertheless, this class was still one of Harry’s favorites.
Unfortunately, so seemed Malfoy’s.
Looks like the hippogriff didn’t divert him after all, Harry thought at the beginning of the year. Harry was happy because he had Ron with him in this class; Hermione was much too busy worrying about Arithmancy to even consider taking Care of Magical Creatures at NEWT level, even with Hagrid out of the picture.
“Well, I have a very exciting assignment for you all. In fact, it will serve as your midterm!” announced Professor Grubbly-Plank at the start of class.
“A midterm this early on?” whispered Ron in his ear.
Grubbly-Plank seemed to hear Ron, because she continued. “It is a long project, yes. This means you will have plenty of time, but the task is not easy: you and a partner will be required to take care of and nurture a Bowtruckle for two full months.”
“A Bowtruckle? That’s so easy!” Harry whispered back. “We’ve got this in the bag.”
“But,” Grubbly-Plank said, clearing her throat. “I encourage you to partner with someone you normally wouldn’t. Oh, and I know your friends; I’ve been carefully observing. Yes, Draco and Blaise, that means you.”
After that announcement was chaos. Nobody wanted to be left with a bad partner, Harry included. He considered asking Padma Patil, but she was immediately approached by Ron instead. Bollocks, who ought to betray you other than your best mate!
Fine, then Terry Boot it was. He’d been nice lately--oh but Hannah Abbott got to him first. Finally, as if fate were waiting for them all this time, Harry and Malfoy were left both partnerless. Harry was no mathematician (that was Hermione’s job), but he was pretty certain that left one possible pair. Great.
“Alright then. Go ahead and select your Bowtruckle; choose wisely, you’ll be responsible for a living, breathing form of life.”
“Move aside, Potter,” Malfoy said, annoyed. He pushed past Harry and came back with a smaller-than-average Bowtruckle encapsulated in a clear case. “It’s a baby.”
After Grubbly-Plank instructed them how to feed and care for their newly adopted creature, they were sent off as freshly established parents. “Okay, even if the Bowtruckle dies in the end, we could still score some points from weekly check-ins.”
“I’ve got ears, Potter.”
“So much help you are.”
“Look,” Malfoy replied, heatedly, “Just let me take care of it. That way you don’t have to get your precious hands dirty.”
What was all this about? But because Malfoy was annoyed, so was Harry. That’s just how it worked between the two of them, unfortunately.
“Why not? It’s a group project, we have to work together.”
“It’s just a Bowtruckle.”
“It. You won’t even give the Bowtruckle a name!” Harry exclaimed.
At this moment, Harry knew the assignment would be pointedly useless. He wished he were with Ron, even if Ron was a bit careless at times. It beats arguing with Malfoy any day.
“How about Truckle?” Malfoy said, half-heartedly, arms crossed.
“Creative,” replied Harry sarcastically. That’s about the most boring, on-the-spot, careless name ever! “What gender is Truckle?”
“Female. I checked.”
Oh. Well Malfoy wasn’t exactly incompetent, just difficult to work with if your name didn’t start with Pansy and end in Parkinson. “How about you get Truckle for one week and she rooms with me the next?”
“Fine.”
“Congrats on Beater, by the way.”
“...Thanks. Good job on Seeker.” Malfoy’s words seemed half-genuine at best, but it was about the biggest breakthrough Harry had all semester. Harry smiled a bit too widely.
For the rest of the day, Harry was confined in listening to Ron’s bellowing. “She wants me to install a tree in our room! Says we ought to replicate its natural habitat. And then she gave me this list of all these weird insects to collect for food.”
“I reckon if you install that tree you might lose your Bowtruckle,” commented Harry.
They all were in Ron and Harry’s dormitory common room this time, browsing their required texts. “Padma’s not entirely wrong, Ron. It says here that keeping a Bowtruckle as a pet can sometimes cause the creature to go insane. It needs lots of stimulation and upkeep,” Hermione informed, expertly flipping through pages.
“Yeah, so tell me. How am I going to put a tree in my room?”
They all laughed this time, even Hermione. “Fairs, but you don’t need to do that. Just a bigger cage and add some greenery like you would a fish.”
“A fish?” asked Ron.
“Muggles keep them as pets,” explained Harry. “Dudley had one small orange one from the school fair. When it died a week later, the Dursley’s replaced it right under his nose.”
Since the war ended, Harry had become more comfortable talking about his childhood. He didn’t necessarily bring up every traumatic event, but he did laugh about the funnier ones. In a way, it felt more like he was healing rather than reliving the trauma.
“Oh, and how about you Harry? How’s,” Ron whispered. “Being partners with Malfoy?” They had to be overly cautious lately because Malfoy could enter Dormitory Four at any time without notice.
“Blast this whole sneaking around thing. Where’s the map?”
“Probably in your luggage. You know, the one you still haven’t fully unpacked,” Hermione suggested.
“Wait here,” he said, rushing to his room, climbing the stairs two at a time.
He returned waving the map around moments later. “Alright, let’s do this. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!” Ah. Malfoy was in the gardens. Probably collecting materials for that Polyjuice Potion, no doubt. “We’re fine,” he told his friends. “Mischief managed.”
Then Harry told his friends about his and Malfoy’s interaction. Hermione was just glad Harry stopped ignoring him. Ron just doesn’t want two Bowtruckles in their room at one time. “How bloody noisy would that be during feedings!”
“So you’re friends now?” inquired Hermione.
“Friendly,” Harry corrected. “That prat is just as stuck-up as usual.”
“Not really, he’d have hexed you by now!” came a voice from behind. Ginny. Merlin, that scared the hell out of him; he should have left the map open.
“Hey, how’d you get in?” whined Ron.
“Hermione gave me the password. Also you git,” she said, flicking his forehead. “I’m not here for you. It just so happens that a sixth-year boy in this dormitory invited me over. See you!”
“Girls,” Ron muttered.
“It’s true, Harry,” admitted Hermione after Ginny disappeared around the corner. “Haven’t you noticed? None of the Slytherins have really picked a fight with us at all this year.”
And that was that; Harry received his dream role on the Quidditch team (Hooch informed him he was a very strong candidate for Captain), he was averaging high marks on his papers, and he just so happened to share a mildly annoying midterm project with Malfoy.
Harry, however, was only just beginning to scratch the surface with that third bit.