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The scent of too much incense burning at once wafted into his face when Harry entered the Divination classroom. He wasn’t sure why he still took the blasted class; prophecies had already dictated too much of his life.
Clutching the strap of his book bag tighter, he moved to sit with Ron at their usual table. While he waited for the lesson to start, Harry placed his head on his arms, closing his eyes. The smoke always made his head hurt.
“Good morning my dear students. We will continue our journey into palm reading today. I will ask all of you to please check under your seat to find out who you will partner with for today's lesson. It is important to work with the auras of different people to sufficiently train your inner eye. Please check now. Oh and Mister Longbottom, please remember to write to your Grandmother. I can see a howler coming your way by Friday if you don’t.” Trelawney monologued, knocking into a chair on her way back to her table.
Excited chatter rose around the room and stool legs scraped on the wooden floor. Harry looked underneath his chair only to find the name “Draco Malfoy” written on it. He dropped the chair as if it was burning him. From across the room he heard his name in a signature drawl. When he raised his head to look at Malfoy, the git only rolled his eyes and pointedly stared at the empty seat across from him.
Harry was about to protest that Malfoy could move himself, when Susan Bones cleared her throat behind him. “Sorry, I am supposed to partner with Weasley, could you move?” With a resigned groan Harry grabbed his bag and went to Malfoy. Harry chose the stool furthest from Malfoy but realized shortly after that he needed to at least be able to reach his hand. “This is stupid” he grumbled as he scooted his chair closer until he was within an arms length.
“As much as it pains me to say, I do agree with you.” drawled Malfoy and elegantly placed his hand on the table, palm facing upwards. Harry wondered for a short moment how the git was able to make this simple gesture seem haughty and as though Harry should be thankful to be allowed to read his palm. With a sigh he reached into his bag and pulled his divination textbook out. He looked from his textbook to Malfoy’s hand and back again.
“Okay so your head line is quite long…. meaning that you are a rational thinker and more likely to conquer problems with logic. Your life line…. uhm… ah, there… your life line seems pretty straight, so you are more likely to tire quickly. Whatever that means. I don’t know if I would call it necessarily long or short though…”
Malfoy scoffed at that, muttering something under his breath, but Harry could only make out the words, “Stupid idiot”. He mentally counted to ten before he continued.
“Your sun and fate lines are both pretty deep but they are both interrupted? So I guess you are going to be successful and popular with breaks?”
Malfoy’s hand made no sense. It was clear that the lines belonged together but they were definitely separate. Harry had never seen something like that before, but then again he normally didn’t go around watching other people’s palms. With a shrug he gave up and told Malfoy that that was all he could read from him.
“Pathetic. You skipped the whole hand shape and according to you I don’t even have a heart line. But I guess you really do think that.” Before Harry could take another look at the heart line (he had completely forgotten about that one), Malfoy pulled his hand away and beckoned Harry to place his hand on the table. “Let me show you how to properly do this.”
Reluctantly Harry laid his hand upon the dark blue wax cloth.
“You have earth hands, hence you are a practical and realistic person, some may even say grounded but that’s not a word I am going to use for you.”
Without a warning Malfoy grabbed his wrist and raised his hand to eye level. “Your predominant mount is Jupiter, no surprise here, but you also have very clear upper and lower Mars mounts.”
“Mounts??” Harry asked in confusion. He had no clue what Malfoy was talking about. Trelawney had most definitely never talked about mounts.
“They’re archetypes. Jupiter stands for leader, Mars for warrior. The upper and lower differentiate between physical and emotional war.” Malfoy explained absentmindedly, eyes focussed on Harry’s hand. A moment later he caught himself, “Do keep up Potter. Trelawney talked about it last lesson.”
Unceremoniously, Malfoy let go of Harry’s wrist, smirking at the smack of it hitting the table.
“Okay so, you’ll reach the height of your energy levels in your mid-twenties, your impulse control will get better over time but never be great. You will be successful but never really feel safe. And despite you wearing your heart on your sleeve, you will not get with your soulmate right away. You’ll probably know each other for years before getting close to each other, probably due to you being unable to realise your feelings.”
“Wha-.. How?” Harry blurted out. Malfoy hadn’t even taken out the book.
“Honestly Potter, you can’t be that stupid. It’s obvious! Your life line is pretty straight in beginning and ending, only curving slightly after the little bump in it. Hence energy high in mid-twenties.” At Harry’s continued confusion Malfoy adds, “The bump is your temporary death you idiot. With some calculations and measurements I could even tell you what age you’ll reach.
What next? Impulse-control. Just look at your stupid head line, it barely reaches your middle finger but gets deeper towards the middle. Hence it’ll get better but never great. And for your success I wouldn’t even have to look into your palm. You are famous I would have been surprised if your sun line wouldn't be so deep and prominent. What’s interesting is your fate line being shallow, so successful - maybe even talented, but we’re still talking about you so let’s just stick with successful - but never really feeling safe. Blame it on the childhood trauma or whatever.” The Slytherin monologued.
Harry had to admit he was impressed. It made sense but he would have never been able to deduce that much from just a few palm indents. And Malfoy hadn’t even needed the book.
“Where did you pull the soulmate from? Does everyone have one?” The whole topic was new to Harry. He was intrigued enough to forget that he was supposed to be hating the man in front of him.
“No, not everyone has one, but most people do. You definitely have one though. Do you see how your heart line entwines with another line for the first part? Crossing each other multiple times but not staying together until your heart line curves upwards? You will meet them long before you love them. The curve means you’ll get together once you openly communicate your love. That in combination with the fact that you have earth hands and your only emotional marker being lower Mars means you are too stupid to realise your own emotions.”
The way Malfoy said it sounded almost accusatory, but before Harry could analyse why that would be, Trelawney called into class, “Please switch partners with the group next to you and give it another try. As you will need the remainder of the lesson for that I want to already announce that I will await two foot of parchment on your analysis of your own hand by Monday.”
Harry partnered up with Neville and tried not to think about Malfoy’s analysis.
---
Naturally, not thinking of Malfoy had worked for about 5 seconds before Harry became rapidly obsessed with him again. He watched Malfoy constantly - at meals, in class, on the map - thinking about the way he had held his wrist and read his palm. Harry couldn’t figure out if Malfoy was up to something or if he had actually changed into a tolerable person.
It was only because of his obsession that Harry noticed Malfoy struggling in DADA two weeks after the palm reading lesson. They were studying the Patronus charm and although Harry had taught it to the majority of the class before, they were going to focus a few lessons on the charm nonetheless. So while Harry listened to a lecture he could hold himself, he let his eyes drift towards the platinum blond hair three rows away, trying to come up with a reason for the others' almost friendly behaviour weeks ago.
Harry got pulled from his thoughts when everyone scrambled to their feet and tables were levitated to the side. Apparently they had reached the practical part of the lesson. He joined Ron and Hermione in one of the corners awaiting the instructions. Hermione quickly and easily conjured a corporeal Patronus before simply conjuring three huge pillows for the trio to sit on. Harry and Ron followed her example and sat down next to her.
Harry cast a muffliato around them and they chatted away. Hermione nagged them about the potions essay until she was satisfied that both Ron and Harry had actually done the work behind it and then pulled her arithmancy book from her bag and began reading. So Ron pulled his playing cards from his bag and Harry and him played a few rounds of wizarding poker.
Ron won all of them, since Harry was busy watching Malfoy — again.
By the end of the lesson almost everyone had been able to produce some form of silver mist, except for Malfoy, and Harry had noticed. And as Malfoy passed him on his way out, Harry unthinkingly grabbed his wrist and said, “I can help you.”
Malfoy only yanked his arm away and spat, “Even you can’t magically give me a fucking memory to rely on, wonderboy.” before he hurried out of the class.
Harry was certain that the Slytherin had meant it as an insult but Harry couldn’t help but take it as a challenge: Time to give Malfoy a Patronus-worthy memory.
In the next DADA lesson they were basically left to practice on their own again, with Professor Wilkins offering help to people who needed it. So Harry cornered Malfoy.
“Look, I really can help you with this. I may have an idea why it’s not working.”
“In case I hadn’t made that clear last time, Potter, You can’t help me. Nor do I want you to.” Malfoy hissed, his eyes sparkling with anger, “So leave me alone.”
Harry retreated back to Ron and Hermione but kept his eyes trained on Malfoy anyway. By the end of the lesson Malfoy had, once again, not produced the slightest of silver mist. Harry watched him trudging out of the classroom with his head bowed.
Hermione had pulled Harry aside after the lesson and chastised him so thoroughly that Harry actually kept away from Malfoy after that, even keeping the stalking to a minimum. Which is why Harry was actually surprised when Malfoy came to him two days later.
Pansy Parkinson shot Malfoy a meaningful look when she passed them and once they were alone Malfoy adressed Harry, “Does the offer still stand?” He asked reluctantly, looking at his shoes.
“What?”
“The offer to help me with my Patronus? Wilkins said I needed to get at least some mist in order to pass.”
Harry was perplexed. Malfoy had to be up to something, why else would he suddenly ask for help?
“Forget it, I-” Malfoy began and Harry realised that he had yet to answer the other. Hastily he interrupted “No, yeah… I’ll… help you.” He was eager to find out what Malfoy had planned. “uhm.. empty classroom on the second floor after dinner?” Malfoy only nodded before walking away.
---
Malfoy entered the classroom back to his normal self, gone was the shy subdued man, instead he was once again haughty and arrogant, “I won’t let you in my head” he exclaimed as a form of greeting and sat upon the chair Harry had cleaned for him.
Harry scoffed and assured him that he hadn’t intended to do that anyway and stated, “The memory you’re currently using isn’t enough.”
“Obviously.”
“Well you need one that is more emotional to you. Not necessarily happy, but content.”
Malfoy silently stared at him for a few moments, then he spoke through gritted teeth, “That’s your big trick? A better memory? Did you honestly think that I didn’t know that? How many fucking content moments do you think I’ve had in my life, huh? After THAT!” Malfoy pointed to his left arm. His voice had gotten gradually louder until he was yelling at Harry.
They stood there in the empty classroom, Malfoy’s panting the only sound to be heard. Harry couldn’t move, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the anger-reddened face in front of him. After a few moments, Harry watched as Malfoy closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand and suddenly the whole room was completely silent as Malfoy held his breath.
Harry could hear his blood pumping in his ears, subconsciously holding his own breath. When Malfoy breathed out it was with a controlled “woosh” and accompanied by his hand falling to his side. With a perfectly polite, almost friendly tone he said, “I am sorry for my outburst, it was unfitting of me. Please continue. You were saying something about my memory not being enough?”
His heart still pounding loudly in his chest, Harry let out his own breath and carefully asked, “What about memories from before the war? Your childhood always seemed so perfect.” Harry innerly winced at the obvious envy his voice conveyed. Two parents doting on him, loving him, spoiling him. A manor, magic, friends and playmates; to Harry it had been the dream.
When Malfoy just stood there — unmoving, not answering — Harry switched to what would hopefully be an easier topic than personal memories, “Have you tried meditating?”
He walked Malfoy through several meditation techniques that night, not once asking about the memories again. They planned another meeting for Friday evening and parted ways.
---
Harry spent all Thursday thinking about Malfoy. The Slytherin was clearly adapt with magic, being nearly as good as Hermione in both charms and transfiguration, so why couldn’t he produce a Patronus if not for the memory?
It was Friday morning when realisation hit him in the middle of breakfast. The Patronus was a highly emotional charm, not a technical one and from what Harry gathered Malfoy had always been told to not wear his emotion on his sleeve, to not acknowledge his feelings. If Malfoy practiced Occlumency on top of that, it might just be that the git was too closed off for it. Or at least too used to not feel anything.
Malfoy was already in their classroom meditating when Harry barged in. Without any preamble Harry asked, “Are you by chance an Occlumens?” When Malfoy only nodded in affirmation Harry let out a relieved sigh, “Okay, then we need to work on that first. It could be that you are subconsciously blocking your memory from being present enough to trigger the charm. So you kinda need to drop your shields… or however that works.” In hindsight Harry regretted that he never got the hang of occlumency. A better grasp of it’s techniques would have been helpful right now.
“Or however that works. Eloquent as ever, Potter,” Malfoy said, rolling his eyes at him, before he apparently remembered that he needed Harry for this and settled into his friendly mask again. “I’ll give it a try, but I’ll need to concentrate for that.” Malfoy crossed his legs, leaned back against the table he sat in front of and closed his eyes. Harry simply pulled out his Potions essay and set to work.
Two paragraphs into the essay Malfoy cleared his throat. “While I understand how my shields may hinder the process I am not entirely sure how one achieves ‘making a memory present’.” Sensing a longer explanation incoming, Harry capped his inkwell and sat down in front of Malfoy.
“It’s more of a feeling than a state of mind,” he spoke softly. “At least for me. It… It starts just above my navel, as if I swallowed a tiny ray of sun and it warms me from the inside.” Harry closed his eyes, pulling up the feeling he got when casting a Patronus. “It spreads, warming my whole stomach before it reaches my chest, where it starts to almost feel like a comforting hug — a fluffy blanket warm and safe around my shoulders.” Harry revelled in the feeling for a moment and then continued.
“When it gets to my arms and legs it almost tingles, seeping into every last inch of my fingers and toes and I…I feel like I'm glowing; as if my happiness is seeping from every pore out into the world without really leaving me. And then I just…” Harry grabbed his wand and gently cast, “Expecto Patronum.”
The stag erupted from the tip of his wand, lighting the room with its bright silver light, cantering across the tables around them. It came to a gentle halt next to Harry, its light dimmed as not to blind them. With his front legs next to Harry’s shoulder it gently nudged Malfoy’s shoulder with its snout. The blond hesitantly reached up to place his hand on the Patronus and after a moment the light dimmed further and the stag slowly vanished.
“I… Thank you.” offered Malfoy after a short while. His voice was open and honest for the first time that day and it felt like the first time Harry ever heard him sound truly nice without any anger or politeness mixing in. He couldn’t help the smile blooming on his face.
---
They met yet again on Tuesday after dinner, Malfoy had said he needed to work on letting his memories become present and had left shortly after Harry cast his own Patronus on Friday. Harry didn’t interrupt the others' concentration upon entering this time. He simply sat down and started working on his transfiguration assignment.
To his surprise Malfoy interrupted him only five minutes in. “I think I understand now what you mean with the memory being present, but I… I can’t think of a good memory to use.” Malofy took a deep breath and then rushed out, “I can’t use my childhood memories, they have become too entangled in the war. No matter where I start I end up with father in Azkaban, with Mother slowly losing her mind in the Manor and I… I just can’t.”
The vulnerability Malfoy offered him felt as if he was handed a precious gift and Harry wanted desperately to return the favor.
“Uhm.. it doesn’t have to be a real memory necessarily. It can,” Harry cleared his throat to get rid of the scratchiness. “It can also be a … a dream or a wish or something. A concept even. I… uhm.. I produced my first patronus with the ‘memory’ of my parents smiling at me, when I was a baby. I don’t really remember it consciously but I imagined it often enough that it felt real.” He cleared his throat again, unsure how to continue.
“A dream you say?” Malfoy asked thoughtfully and Harry watched him concentrate once again, his eyes watching Harry intently. Minutes passed and just as Harry began to feel uncomfortable at being stared at, while not really being registered Malfoy whispered, “Expecto Patronum” and silver sparkles illuminated the space between them. It wasn’t a corporeal Patronus, it wasn’t even strong enough to be considered an incorporeal one yet but it was undoubtedly progress.
Harry laughed delightedly, “That’s it Draco!” he exclaimed, before he realized what he just said. “Uh I mean… Congratulations Malfoy”
“I- You can say Draco.” Malfoy said, still dazed from his accomplishment.
Draco tried it thrice more that evening, only producing some sparkles once more but after the third try he was exhausted. They settled on another meeting for Friday and before Harry could leave Draco grabbed his arm, stopping his retreat, “Thank you Po- Harry.” he said in earnest. Harry smiled at the use of his given name.
---
Once again Harry had only Malfoy on his mind. The way the other had smiled while casting his sparkles, the way his eyes shimmered as he sat there, the way he was nicer nowadays, the vulnerability. Harry didn’t exactly know when it happened, but at some point Draco had become something close to a friend to him, someone he was excited to meet up with.
“You will be using the charm on the board to desensitise your sense of smell for this lesson, as we will be brewing Amortentia and I want all of you to be able to make it through the brewing process without being constantly distracted.” Said Professor Sondulbas on Thursday in her usual manner of jumping straight into lessons. In a way she always reminded Harry of Snape; strict, effective and straight to the point, although she wasn’t nearly as intimidating. “I will test your potion by smelling it at the end of the lesson and afterwards you will be allowed to lift the charm and smell it as well, should you wish to.” she explained, and told them to start brewing.
Brewing without a sense of smell was weird, Harry kept expecting to smell something whenever a waft of steam hit his face, but he didn’t. Slightly irritated, he finished brewing and waited for Professor Sondulbas to make her rounds. She declared Harry’s potion as “well done” and bottled a vial for closer grading.
Back at the front she addressed the class. “Okay, you may lift the charm now, or you may vanish your potions and leave, your choice.” A mumble broke out all over the class and multiple voices spoke the counter charm. Harry hesitated for a moment before he too said, “Finite Incantatem”, holding his breath for a second and then, finally, inhaling.
He was hit with a wave of the scent of his favourite broom polish, parchment, something that he could only describe as dusty and cologne. A very expensive, exquisitely balanced cologne, he recognized from somewhere.
His eyes snapped up as he realized where he knew the smell from. A soft, “Draco” fell from his mouth involuntarily and within a fracture of a second his eyes had focused on the blond in question only to find that he was already looking at Harry too. Blushing vehemently, Harry averted his eyes in an instant. While looking away he noticed that Malfoys table was already clean, not a trace of the potion to be found.
Harry spent all evening and night thinking about the Amortentia and of course about Malfoy. The ever circling thoughts about him shifted and Harry began thinking about the small dimple on Draco’s left cheek when he smiled, how his hand had felt around his wrist, how his lips formed his name. A memory wiggled itself in the forefront of his thoughts, a memory of kissing a blond muggle in a club last summer — the nameless and, at this point, faceless muggle man being swapped with Draco and suddenly Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. He imagined what it would feel like to pull Draco closer, pressing his lips against his, tasting him. The smell of the Amortentia flooded back into his mind and Harry felt himself falling asleep to the memory of it.
On Friday morning Harry woke with the certainty that he had gone and fallen for his former nemesis without realising it.
Friday evening saw Harry as a bundle of nerves. He had spent the day replaying the way Draco had looked at him during potions as well as fantasizing about kissing him. Harry was pretty sure Draco couldn’t have heard him or known what he smelt in potions class, and so Harry had settled on ignoring the whole matter for the duration of the Patronus lesson. He would figure something out over the weekend.
Harry was pacing when Draco entered their classroom and he kept pacing when Draco settled into his usual cross-legged position on the floor. On Harry’s third round around the small room Draco snapped, “Merlin, sit down. I can’t concentrate if you’re running around like a beheaded chicken.” He had closed his eyes again before Harry could reply.
Forcing himself to be still, Harry leaned against one of the tables and used the opportunity presented to him to study Draco’s face in detail; the perfectly shaped eyebrows, the straight nose and the pointy chin. A small smile spread across the pale face just as Harry imagined what it would feel like to run his hands through the fine blond hair that framed the face. With his attention drawn to the lips, Harry's thoughts circled back to the image of kissing him.
His thoughts were interrupted by Draco casting, “Expecto Patronum” with his eyes still closed. Silver mist poured from his wand, producing a solid shield between them and then fading away. Pearls of laughter pulled Harry out of his amazement and suddenly there were arms around him.
“Thank you, thank you!” Malfoy happily murmured inches from Harry's ear and seconds later Harry registered the smell of the cologne and Draco began to pull back.
Harry automatically reached his arm up and cupped Draco’s face. He leaned forward and, before his brain could catch up with him, gently placed his lips on Draco’s. A shocked mewl escaped Draco’s throat before Harry felt the others' lips softening and moving against his, kissing him back.
Tentatively, Harry placed his free hand on Draco's lower back and traced his tongue against his lower lip, asking permission. Draco responded instantaneously, his hands came up and pulled Harry in closer so their chests were mere centimeters apart. He parted his lips and deepened the kiss.
Harry could feel his brain short-circuit, every nerve ending stood aflame with desire, happiness and warmth. The heat of Draco’s lips and tongue, the taste of them, was better than anything Harry had imagined. A heavenly mixture of sweet and just right, and in combination with the smell of Draco’s cologne and the dusty classroom it became too much to process. Harry lost himself in the way Draco moved his lips against his own and, when Draco snaked a hand into his hair to pull him even closer, he let out a low moan.
Neither of them knew how long they kissed, only that they were both breathless and slightly dizzy when they finally pulled apart. Draco lifted his right hand from Harry’s chest and gently traced his cheek, before softly cupping it. He pulled Harry in for another kiss, almost chaste compared to the previous one and cast the incantation again, lips moving against Harry’s. Harry could feel the magic leaving Draco’s wand and, without looking, was certain that he did it, that Draco had managed a corporeal Patronus.
They broke apart to look at the beautiful silver doe that strutted across the room. Harry knew they would have a lot to talk about, but for now he was content with simply pulling Draco close and kissing him again.