Chapter Text
Harry was trembling. His pyjamas were covered in sweat, and he was desperate to free himself from the bed covers that were constraining him. He felt suffocated. His breathing was erratic, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest.
Another nightmare.
They had become a frequent occurrence ever since the war ended. His dreams always involved the war, Voldemort, his parents… No matter what he did, they wouldn’t stop. He had spent the summer at the Burrow, with the Weasleys, and every single night he would wake up with a deafening scream, startling everyone in the house. He felt awful for it. He knew they were all trying to cope with Fred’s death, and having him there, constantly screaming, reminding them of the darkest moment of their life, was certainly not helpful at all. Luckily, they started giving him Dreamless Sleep potions, and things eventually calmed down. But they all knew it was a temporary solution. Dreamless Sleep potions could become very addictive if taken without caution, and they all knew better, so things started going downhill again. Now he was back at Hogwarts for his eight-year and things got a lot worse. The fact that he was at the castle where the battle had unravelled, where so many lives had been lost… It was triggering for him.
And now, as he sat on his bed, in the dark of the room, he felt alone. Irrevocably alone. For the sake of house unity, McGonagall had decided that all the eight-years needed to share the dormitories with people from other houses, so he was the only Gryffindor in the room. He couldn’t even rely on his best friend to calm him down when things got too difficult. Now he had to share his room with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Terry Boot and Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Harry thought it was rather ironic that he was now sharing a room with his school arch-enemy. Former arch-enemy. They hadn’t said a single word to each other since the beginning of the school year, but Harry knew Malfoy wasn’t his nemesis, not anymore. Harry had spoken for him at his trials and when it was over, Malfoy simply came up to him and thanked him. A genuine thank you, Harry noted, without a trace of malice, as he looked into his eyes before he was ushered away by his mother, who also politely thanked him for what he had done for her family, before walking out the door.
His wandering thoughts allowed his breath to steady and he felt calmer, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anytime soon, so he got out of bed, grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and left the dormitories for a late night stroll.
Draco could toss and turn all he wanted, but he couldn’t fall asleep. Particularly not after what he had just heard. Potter’s bed was right next to his, and he heard him struggle with his bed covers, as his breath got heavier. It was all too familiar to Draco. He had been struggling as well, ever since the end of the War. His father had been sent to Azkaban, and his mother was under house arrest at the Manor, so evidently, things crumbled upon him. Just thinking about all the intricacies of the War made him feel sick. He knew that the path that his family had chosen, that he had chosen, was wrong, and there was nothing that he regretted more than to follow the Dark Lord’s will. The man had been a foolish lunatic, and his ideals were retrograde. He had always felt superior to Muggleborns, but he was starting to realise that blood-status wasn’t really as important as his family had made it out to be. He knew he still had a long path to go through, but he was going in the right direction, he was sure of that. He was determined to finish his education at Hogwarts and rise his family name from the ashes. Potter’s speech before the Wizengamot had granted him his final year at Hogwarts, and even though his initial reaction had been of annoyance, because it was Potter after all, and he didn’t really need his help, he could defend himself thank you very much, he then calmed down and realised that Potter didn’t really need to help him, but he did anyway, out of his own good will, and it was because of him that he got the opportunity to finish his education, so he thanked him. His gratitude was sincere and he knew that Potter knew that too. They hadn’t spoken ever since, and Draco was taken by surprise by what he had heard that night. It was clear that Potter was dealing with post traumatic stress, and Draco never would have guessed it. Potter, who had always appeared so put-together and strong, was in pain.
I guess I misjudged him.
He knew how difficult it was. Something as simple as falling asleep had become an unbearable task. And when he did manage to fall sleep, his mind went into a swirl of horrid images, bringing back all the painful memories that he had desperately tried to put behind him. He would then wake up, covered in cold sweat, shaking, unable to exhale properly, too scared to do anything but wait until he could feel the beat of his heart even out. He hadn’t told anyone about this, not wanting to worry his mother, who was already dealing with a lot, or his friends, that were also going through stuff of their own. He could only rely on himself to control his episodes, and sometimes it became too much.
Draco sighed. The Boy Who Lived, someone that had always seemed so distant from what he was, had something in common with him. Maybe things were truly changing.
Harry sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, surrounded by his friends. Funnily enough, he had never felt so alone. His friends were all engaged in their own conversations, and he was just standing there, playing with his toast. All the appetite that he had ever had was gone. The Weasleys had to practically force his food down his throat during the summer. Even something as simple as eating had become bothersome.
Hermione, who had been talking to Ron about the upcoming exams, noticed Harry’s untouched food, and frowned.
“Are you okay, Harry? You barely touched your food.”
“I’m fine, Hermione. Just a stomach ache.”
“Are you sure? We could go and see Madam Pomfrey…”
“It’s fine, Hermione, I mean it. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”
Hermione was unconvinced, but decided not to push him. Harry gave her a weak smile and Hermione, feeling more reassured, resumed her conversation with her boyfriend.
Harry was thankful for his two best friends in every possible way, he truly was. But now that they were in relationship, it felt like they were in a completely different dimension. They were always side by side, with intertwined fingers, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. Harry was genuinely happy for them, but he couldn’t help but distance himself from them. They still talked, and they were always there for him, but things were obviously different. They were grieving, but they were also basking in their new relationship. And Harry didn’t blame them at all. Plus, after everything that they had been through, Harry didn’t want to worry them with what he’d been dealing with. It was difficult, but he’d manage.
Draco was quietly eating his porridge, when Pansy startled him by dropping down in the seat next to his.
“Merlin Pansy, you scared me!”
“Stop being so sensitive, will you?”
Draco just scowled at her and continued eating. His eyes scanned through the Great Hall and ended up landing on The Boy Who Lived. He couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing. The events from the previous night wouldn’t leave his thoughts. Potter seemed so separate from the rest of his friends, so miserable… He had never seen him that way. It was odd but Draco understood. Probably too well.
His train of thoughts was interrupted by Pansy’s high-pitched voice.
“Draco!”
“What, Pansy?!”
“You’re staring. At Potter. Again. I thought you were done with that.”
“I was not staring!”
Pansy quirked an eyebrow. “You most certainly were.”
“I was just thinking!”
Pansy muttered a “sure” and turned to Blaise.
Draco finished his bowl of porridge and got up.
“Where are you going?” Pansy asked.
“Potions. It starts in 5 minutes so I suggest you hurry the hell up or you’ll be late.” Draco smirked at his friends and started walking towards the exit of the Great Hall.
“You’ll switch partners today. We are brewing a complicated potion, used mainly to cure bonding spells, it’s called…”
Harry could barely pay attention to what Slughorn was saying. He was already tired as it was due to his episode from the previous night, and also because Potions wasn’t particularly appealing to him. He’d gotten his way through it because he had used Snape’s book, but now? He knew he was doomed.
“You alright there, mate?” Ron was sitting next to him.
“Sure, it’s just… Potions.” Harry half-smiled at his best friend.
Ron chuckled. “I know, the worst. I can’t believe he’s separating us.”
“What?” Harry asked, confused.
“Didn’t you just hear Slughorn? We’re switching up partners today. Bummer, really.”
Harry just hummed. He was wrecked and just wanted to fall asleep, which is why he didn’t take notice when Slughorn announced his new partner, until it was too late.
“Potter.” A familiar voice echoed in his ears.
Harry almost jumped out of his seat upon the realisation that Draco Malfoy was now occupying his best friend’s former seat.
“Malfoy?”
“Eloquent as always, I see.” Malfoy smirked at him.
Harry laughed at the familiarity of the whole situation. Malfoy was teasing him, again. What surprised him was that this time it wasn’t in a spiteful tone. It felt almost light-hearted.
“Sorry, I was distracted.”
“Figures. Did you hear Slughorn’s explanation or am I going to have to explain the whole thing to you?”
Harry scratched the back of his neck and gave him an awkward smile.
“Merlin. So what we have to do is…”
Harry was completely dumbstruck. Malfoy was being so patient with him, explaining everything to the tiniest detail, always making sure that he understood every procedure before moving onto the following step. By the end of the class they had brewed a perfect potion, earning an effervescent “well done!” from Slughorn.
As Malfoy was making his way through the classroom door, Harry grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around and face him. “Ehmm… Thank you, Malfoy. I know I’m pants at Potions and you really helped today, so thank you.”
“I was starting to think you were an ungrateful git, but you’ve managed to prove me wrong, Potter.” Malfoy smiled at him.
Harry couldn’t help but widen his eyes. Malfoy was being so nice.
Could he be up to something? No, don’t go back to that.
Instead, his irrational side decided it was a good idea to blurt out the words: “Actually, would you mind tutoring me?”
His question obviously caught Malfoy off guard. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Harry just shook his head and said: “You know what, forget I said anything, I’ll just go…” Harry adjusted the strap of his satchel on his right shoulder and took two steps out of the classroom before being stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
“Fine, Potter.”
“What?” Harry couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.
“You heard me just fine. 4pm at the library. Don’t be late.” Malfoy turned right and disappeared through the corridor, leaving a rather perplexed Harry behind.
Draco tapped his fingers impatiently against the wooden table. It was 4:08pm. Potter was late. Draco was still trying to figure out why he had agreed to this. Potter had seemed so helpless during Potions, and when he had asked for his help, he felt compelled to oblige. He genuinely wanted to help him. Maybe it was because he felt like they were connected somehow. After all, they were both dealing with a heavy burden, left by the War. Also, Potter had saved his life. The whole imagery of the Room of Requirements and the Fiendfyre chasing him replayed in his mind. It was still very difficult to remember that particular moment, considering he had lost one of his best friends that day. He felt guilty. Crabbe had always been by his side and Draco had spent most of his years treating him like a mere follower. He was starting to feel a lump forming in his throat, but immediately shook it off once he heard footsteps approaching his table.
“Potter.” Draco said, with a condescending sneer. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry, Ginny was telling me about…”
“I’m not interested in knowing what you do with your girlfriend. Sit down and let’s begin.”
Potter, hearing Draco’s demanding tone, quietly sat down and took a piece of parchment and a quill out of his satchel.
“Here, read the first chapter of this book and then we can discuss it.” Draco handed him his copy of Amelia’s Potions Manual for Beginners. Potter admired the cover of the old book and then opened it, carefully flicking through the pages with his fingers.
Without deviating his attention from the book, he spoke. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“What?”
“Ginny. She’s not my girlfriend anymore. We realised we had rushed into it so we’re just friends.”
“Hmm.” Draco didn’t know what else to say to that piece of information. He did, however, feel a light stomach flip but chose to ignore it.
“Read, go on.”
The whole situation felt surreal. Harry was sitting with Draco Malfoy at the school library, listening to the basic fundaments of Potion-making and they were not trying to rip each other apart. If someone had told him a year back that he would be in this situation, he would have laughed it off.
“Are you listening?”
“Yes, I am!” Harry couldn’t help but smile. It was rather enthralling how passionate Malfoy was when it came to Potions. And he was really good at explaining things. Harry was starting to understand some of the things he had always believed were too complicated for him.
The session went by in a blink of an eye, and before Harry knew it, they were both leaving the library.
“Thank you again, Malfoy. I’m really starting to get the hang of it.”
Malfoy gave him a smile. A genuine smile. Harry was completely shocked. He was sure this was the first time he had seen Draco Malfoy smile. It suited him. His cheeks started flushing at the thought, and he coughed, hoping Malfoy wouldn’t notice.
“Are you okay, Potter?” Draco asked, with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m fine.”
“So, is this okay with you? Once a week?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could make it twice a week, if you don’t mind.” Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to make it twice a week because he needed the help or because he enjoyed Malfoy’s company, but he didn’t dwell on it.
“Sure. Thursday, same time, same table. Don’t be late again.” With that, Malfoy rushed out of the library, quickly disappearing out of Harry’s field of vision.
Harry felt like he was in a different universe, because surely that was the only explanation as to why Draco Malfoy, of all people, was being nice to him.
Their next meeting went well. They even discussed Quidditch. Draco was actually pleased with himself. Helping Potter had made him discover a new passion for teaching. Maybe he could become a Potions teacher in the future, who knew.
Now, it was Saturday night, and he was comfortably sitting on his bed, with a book in his hands. It was late and everyone else was already asleep, and he appreciated the silence of it all. His bed drapes were open, allowing the moonlight that was pouring through the window to create irregular patterns on his linens. The whole thing brought him a sense of serenity that was abruptly interrupted by a scream.
“NO! PLEASE DON’T!”
Draco knew exactly where it had come from. Potter’s bed. His voice cracked, as he continued screaming. Draco felt unsettled. Potter seemed to be in so much pain. It hurt him to think that after everything that Potter had done for the Wizarding World, he still had to go through all of this. Maybe that’s what led him to act out on impulse and leave his bed, rushing to Potter’s side. He tried to think of something to calm him down, and then remembered what his mother used to do to him whenever he had a nightmare. He raised his hand and gently placed it on Potter’s face. He then ran his thumb over Potter’s cheek and whispered: “Shhh, it’s okay Potter. It’s just a nightmare, you’ll be fine.”
He repeated the motion over and over again while whispering soothing words into Potter’s ear. He wasn’t sure if he was being helpful but after a few minutes Potter’s breath begun to steady, and his body’s trembling slowed down. Draco was at a complete loss. He felt a sudden rush of affection towards the boy standing beneath him and, before going back to his bed, kissed his forehead and tucked him in.
Draco had no idea what had gotten into him, but he felt like it had been necessary. Potter had been through so much, he deserved calmness for once. He traced his mouth with his fingers, feeling a slight tingle as his fingertips ran through the flesh that had touched Potter’s forehead.
He knew sleep wouldn’t come that night but, for once, he didn’t care.