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The war was over. Voldemort was dead. Harry et al. had returned to Hogwarts for their NEWTS, hoping for a year of peace. However, old habits die hard and Harry has found himself relapsing into his old habit: Malfoy watching.
Draco had returned for the unofficial ‘eighth year’ along with a handful of other Slytherins, with the obvious goal of redeeming himself for his actions during the war. He had slowly but surely gained the forgiveness of the majority of his peers through actions that I’m not getting in to because that is not the point of this fic, so shush.
Let me break it down for you. Here’s what you need to know: It was mid-October and Harry was certain - absofuckinglutely certain - that Draco was up to something.
“Look at him. Sitting there. Up to something.” Harry said, staring intently at Draco across the Great Hall.
“Would you just drop it, Harry? Draco is not up to anything except dinner,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “He hasn’t put a toe out of line since we’ve been back, and he’s made it perfectly clear that he’s sorry for what he’s done. Leave him alone and move on.”
“Yeah mate, honestly. You’re just salty because he’s not obsessing over you anymore,” Ron said.
“No! No, that’s not it. He’s…been weird for at least a week. Haven’t either of you noticed?” Harry asked, determined that it wasn’t just him. “It’s not just me!” It was just him.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron stared blankly at him.
“It’s just you.”
xxx
Harry had first noticed Draco acting strangely a week before. Although their interactions had been remarkably less spite-filled than in previous years, Draco still refused to acknowledge that Harry had a first name and instead referred exclusively to him as Potter. Obviously, Harry would notice when this behaviour stopped. Any average person would notice something like that. He wasn’t weird. Nope. Not at all.
If anything, Draco was the one who was weird. He was the one who just abandoned the script and, when Harry bumped into him on the way to the quidditch change rooms, did not once insult him, demean him, or refer to him as…really anything at all.
In his defence, Harry didn’t make a habit of walking around paying no attention to where he was going. It just sometimes happened that way. So, there he was - walking to the change rooms with his head in the clouds, daydreaming of daydreams as one does - when he suddenly collided with someone, sending them tumbling to the ground.
Shocked grey eyes stared up at him from the ground, attached to one very disgruntled Draco Malfoy.
“Oh! Malfoy! I didn’t mean to…” Harry said. “Let me help you up.” He extended a hand to Draco, unsurprised when the blonde batted it away.
“Hey now,” Draco said, collecting himself from the ground and brushing dirt and leaves from his robes. “I hit the ground running.”
“Yeah, you did but it was at least half my fault. Sorry, err…how are you then? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
“My world’s on fire,” Draco said sarcastically. “How about yours?”
“Um…fine I guess. I…should probably be going.” Harry said, making a move to continue on to the change rooms. “Quidditch.”
“You’re a rock star,” Draco said, rolling his eyes and pushing past Harry. “Get your game on.”
“Uh. Thanks,” Harry said, walking away. “Sorry again.”
“Go play,” Draco said over his shoulder as he walked away.
That was when Harry knew. Something was wrong with Draco.
xxx
The next time Harry noticed the weird, suspicious, and definitely abnormal behaviour coming from Draco Malfoy was when Hermione dropped her bag in the hall.
As he knelt to help her pick up her assorted school paraphernalia, a pair of pale hands joined him. The hands were attached to Draco Malfoy. Together, the three of them and their 6 hands worked quickly to stuff everything back into her bag. Hermione smiled her thanks and continued on into the Charms classroom.
Harry, however, was full of doubt and concern. Why did Draco care enough to help her? Clearly, there was something malevolent going on, and he was going to get to the bottom of it for once and for all. He rushed after Draco’s retreating figure, intent on one thing and one thing only: the truth.
“You’ve changed.” Harry said, obviously. “Since we were kids, I mean.”
“Well,” Draco said solemnly, “the years start coming and they don’t stop coming.”
“Err…yeah, I suppose they do,” Harry supposed, scratching the back of his neck, hurrying to catch up with Draco and thoroughly interrogate him on his suspicious behaviour. “I just always figured you would be more like your parents when you grew up.”
Draco eyed him suspiciously, as if to say whatever the fuck do you mean by that, Harry?
“You know, more…” Harry said, his cheeks reddening as Draco raised an eyebrow. “Dick-ish.” The second eyebrow joined the first.
“Only shooting stars break the mould,” Draco answered after a moment of silence.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean then?” Harry said. Malfoy was clearly choosing to speak in riddles. He knew Harry was on to him, he just had to, and he was speaking in code just to fuck with him. The preposterousness of the git.
Draco shrugged, making to walk away. “I need to get myself away from this place,” he said. Harry shot out a hand to grab his wrist.
“Wait! No! I didn’t mean to insult your family, I just. Is something going on?” Harry asked, feeling slightly guilty for his random assault of Draco’s parents.
“Your brain gets smart,” Draco sighed. “But your head gets dumb.” With that final, completely ridiculous thing to end a conversation on, he ended the conversation and darted into a classroom. Harry, feeling indubitably frustrated wrenched his hands through his hair and turned back to join Hermione in Charms class. There was something seriously deranged going on here. And he would get his answers.
xxx
The third time Harry was absolutely convinced that something was up was in Hogsmeade. Draco had bought far too many sweets in Honeydukes for Harry to not consider that suspicious behaviour. Plus, he was sharing his sweets with Luna Lovegood. Absolutely preposterous.
He approached the blonde, who he also happened to notice was wrapped in many layers of scarves, jumpers, and cloaks. It was a frigid day in mid-November, yes, but that was positively deranged behaviour. No one gets that cold. It’s just…abnormal.
“Hi Malfoy, why are you wearing so many sweaters?” Harry asked, figuring that perhaps honesty would improve his interrogation tactics and finally get him the truth.
“It’s a cool place and they say it gets colder,” Draco said, hugging his jumper-covered arms around his chest. Just looking at him and his obvious warmth made Harry shiver. In a totally platonic, normal, envious way. As one does.
Harry was suddenly shockingly aware of his complete lack of preparation for the cold weather. Here he was, standing amidst the first dusting of snow, shivering in his single, thin hoodie. “It is surprisingly cold out here today,” he said, shuffling his feet back and forth in the snow.
Draco, being the complete and absolute fucking mystery that he is, did the total unexpected. He reached up around his own neck, unwrapping the thick grey scarf that was wound around it and draped it gently over Harry’s shoulders. “You’re bundled up now,” he blushed.
“Oh, er, thanks. I guess I should have brought my own, but…” Harry stammered, completely floored by the unexpected kindness he was receiving from Malfoy. Had the world gone completely mad today? “Actually, uh, if you wanted I’m meeting Ron and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks, it should be plenty warm, why, uh, why don’t you join us?” Perhaps it was he who had gone completely mad.
“I could use a little fuel myself,” Draco said, after a beat of contemplation.
“Alright, let’s go then.”
xxx
Harry was exceptionally grateful for his best friends. They did not hesitate for even a moment upon seeing him enter with Malfoy in tow. They just simply accepted his presence as if it were normal, allowing Harry to avoid making up an explanation for his admittedly out of character actions.
“Hi Harry, Draco!” Hermione said, patting the seat in the booth beside her. Harry slid in next to Ron, Draco on the other side beside Hermione. “We were just about to order. Butterbeers for 4 then?”
Harry and Draco simply nodded. However, Harry didn’t miss the look of relief passing across Draco’s face.
Before he could address this, he was interrupted by Hermione who had clearly chosen herself as the captain of this conversational ship. “So, Ron and I were just discussing what we plan to do for Christmas hols. Do you have any plans Draco?”
“So much to do, so much to see.” Draco said, avoiding meeting any of their eyes across the table.
“Ahh, so no concrete plans then? Pansy was telling me that your normally vacation together in France.”
“That’s the way I like it,” he said, tracing the grains of wood in the table with his fingertips.
“Wouldn’t that get dull after going there every year? She made it seem like you always do the same things. Why don’t you ever travel anywhere else?”
“I never get bored,” Draco said in response.
“Well, that’s good then. Tradition is important I suppose. Once we’re out of school Ron and I’d like to travel a bit more. I’ve only been outside of Europe a handful of times.”
“You’ll never know if you don’t go.” Draco said.
Apparently, Hermione was satisfied with this bewildering conversation and moved on, even though Harry himself knew that there was something up. Nothing Draco was saying made sense. And he would be getting to the bottom of this.
xxx
Harry was definitely not a stalker. Just because he so conveniently happened to be wearing his invisibility cloak, and conveniently happened to have checked his map, and conveniently happened to have wandered quietly to the library table at which Pansy, Blaise, and Draco sat, did not make him a stalker. It just made him…lucky. And he certainly wasn’t eavesdropping either, just so we’re clear.
Harry was just a lad out for a quiet stroll, taking a pause by the Slytherin’s private conversation to…re-tie his shoes. If he happened to overhear some dialogue, that was hardly his fault. And if he had happened to forget that his shoes didn’t have laces, well that would be no one’s business but his own. He was nothing but a mere victim of circumstance here.
“Darling,” Pansy said. “We’d be happy to end this. All you have to do is tell the truth and it’ll all be behind us.”
“Yes, Draco.” Blaise said with a lascivious grin. “Just admit it. To him. Or rather, his lips.”
“Blaise, we had an agreement. If Draco would just get over himself and confess to his two very best friends, that would be enough to break the curse. After all, the first step to overcoming an addiction is to admit that you have one.”
“But Pans, it would be so much more satisfying - not to mention entertaining - to keep this going until —“
“Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas?” Draco interrupted sharply, standing from the table and gathering his belongings with a flourish. “I need to get myself away from this place.” He promptly swept past Harry’s invisible figure and headed off at a brisk pace towards the 8th year common room.
So, Draco really is cursed. thought Harry. I knew something was up. I am obviously the Nancy Drew of Hogwarts. With warm thoughts of a magnifying glass and a houndstooth cap in mind, he jogged after Draco’s receding figure, keen on helping the blonde reverse the curse…and maybe gaining his favour in return.
xxx
This time, Harry would just be blunt and straight to the point. All the evasiveness and stalking clearly wasn’t delivering the answers that he knew he so rightfully deserved. He swept his cloak off and stuffed it into his bag, revealing himself to a stunned Draco Malfoy.
“I know you’ve been cursed, Draco.” Harry said. Draco’s eyes widened, be it from the truth of his statement or mere shock of Harry addressing him by his given name so casually. “Help me help you.”
“Hey now,” Draco said, softly, reaching out a hand and softly gripping Harry’s wrist. “The ice we skate is getting pretty thin.”
“What is that even supposed to mean? What did they curse you with? Are you going to forever speak in riddles?”
Draco shook his head.
“I just don’t get it. What type of curse even is this?”
Draco gently used the hand on Harry’s wrist to turn his hand, forcing his palm to face upwards. He then took his index finger and began to trace letters.
“R-O-O-M. Your room? OK, let’s go then. I know a short cut from here,” Harry said, practically quivering with excitement now that answers were finally within reach. He could almost taste the sweet sweet victory, almost feel the satisfaction of rubbing it in Ron and Hermione’s stupid faces that naive, doubting Harry had been right once again.
Harry ducked behind a tapestry, holding it away from the wall for Draco to slip inside.
“This passageway leads right to the new eighth year dormitories,” Harry explained, noting now how Draco’s hand was still clasped around his wrist. He quickly adjusted, entwining his fingers with Draco’s. For the mere sake of platonic comfort. Clearly the curse must be troubling Draco and he could probably use some…bro to bro contact. Also handholding served the dual purpose of allowing Harry to effectively lead Draco through the dark passageway, without fear of him getting lost. It was really a very manly thing to do.
“What’s wrong with taking the back streets?” Draco asked rhetorically. His hand squeezed Harry’s twice as he followed along.
xxx
Sneaking past the other eighth years was a piece of cake, especially considering that they were already at dinner and therefore legitimately may be enjoying cake at this very moment in time.
Draco lead Harry up to the room that he shared with Blaise, immediately heading to Blaise’s trunk where he began to rifle through his belongings.
“Er, Draco?” Harry asked, watching the slew of clothes, books, and random artifacts of Blaise’s personal life hit the floor. “Are you really sure we should be doing this?”
“You’ll never shine if you don’t glow,” Draco said darkly, throwing a snow-globe to the floor with particular force. He stopped triumphantly, a small rectangle cradled in one hand. He held it up to the ceiling in victory before eagerly offering it to Harry.
“A…a muggle DVD? You brought me all the way up here for…some kids film?” Harry stared at the cover, perplexed with what was before him. “Draco…we don’t even have a television at Hogwarts, let alone a DVD player…what am I even supposed to do with this?”
Draco gestured wildly to the DVD, his blinding happiness fading in an instant only to be replaced with anxiety.
“I’m sorry, I really am, I just…I don’t understand.” Harry said, opening the case and looking stupidly inside. Perhaps Draco was merely cursed with a case of idiocy. Maybe he had absolutely no idea what was going on and this was all an elaborate ruse to distract Harry. “Maybe we should go find Pansy and Blaise…”
At that, Draco’s eyes began to tear. “The water’s getting warm so you might as well swim,” he said, pushing past Harry and rushing down to the common room where the other eighth years were finally returning from dinner. Harry reluctantly followed, still clutching the DVD case.
“Harry! You weren’t at dinner. Is everything alright?” Hermione asked, rushing towards him as he descended the stairs.
“No, everything isn’t alright. I told you something was up with Draco, but you never believe me even though I’m always right!” Harry said, thrusting the DVD case at Hermione. “Have a look for yourself!”
Hermione, perplexed, turned the case over in her hands. “Harry? I don’t…I don’t understand. Are you sure you’re alright?” Harry deflated.
“I…I don’t know. All the pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place and now I think I’m even more lost than before. Draco’s been speaking in riddles, Pansy and Blaise admitted to cursing him, but I’ve no idea with what! I just…oh for fucks sake.” Harry threw the DVD across the room, storming over to the triad of Slytherins quietly conversing in the corner.
“Potter.” Blaise said. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Look, I want answers,” Harry said. “Zabini, Parkinson, I know you cursed Draco. And it’s really fucking getting on my nerves.”
“Is it now?” Pansy smiled. “Well, tell that to Draco. He knows what he has to do.”
“Fuck, Draco.” Harry whined. “Just do it already then. You’re driving me mad.”
Draco stood, his cheeks flushing a dark pink. “We all could use a little change,” he said as he stepped forward until he was standing right in front of Harry. He reached a hand up to Harry’s cheek, stroking it lightly down his jaw. Then, as if filled with a sudden confidence, he lunged forward and captured Harry’s lips with his own.
Stunned, Harry froze for a beat before enthusiastically returning the kiss. Their tongues fucking battled for dominance as tongues are wont to do. After several moments, they parted, breathing heavily and staring at each other with hooded eyes amidst the hollering and clapping of their classmates around them.
“It’s alright, darling.” Pansy said. “It’s all ogre now.”