Chapter Text
Draco’s heart was pounding as he moved through the crowd. He felt a little frantic. It had been exciting at first when he had seen that the first task was dragons. He’d even laughed along when Vincent suggested that it would be funny to watch Harry Potter get the most aggressive dragon, the Horntail. But when it came down to it, it hadn’t been funny. It had been terrifying. He’d been nearly gripping the seat as he watched how close Potter had come to being burned by the dragon before he’d retrieved the egg. Now, here he was with the rest of the crowd trying to get to Potter. He wasn’t even sure why, but he needed to see for himself that Potter was okay. Sure, he’d enjoyed their game of taunts, but what was the point if one of them died? It’s just a game. No one is meant to be in danger. Draco has never actually wanted to hurt Potter. Certainly, other people had been in danger in their earlier years. Hermione Granger and the others who had been paralyzed, for example. He had felt guilty about that too.
Draco was also aware that Potter had faced dangerous situations many times since coming to Hogwarts, from Quirrell to the Basilisk to Sirius Black. Harry’s life has always seemed to be in danger at least once during the school year, but this was different. For one thing, no one was allowed to help him. For another, Draco could see it happening. It wasn’t just a rumor or story passed around the banquet tables. He wasn’t just seeing what happened afterward. This time around Draco could watch as Harry dove straight towards a fire-breathing dragon just because some ridiculous cup spit his name out. A name, Draco was sure, Harry hadn’t submitted in the first place. Suddenly, Draco was face to face with the object of his pondering and he wasn’t sure what to do. Harry was surrounded by Gryffindors shouting his praises for his bravery and asking how he’d come up with the plan and all sorts of other silly questions that had nothing to do with anything.
“Are you okay?” Draco blurted it out, voice sharp enough to get Harry’s attention. It also got the attention of the other Gryffindors. Ron Weasley glared at him, blue eyes burning nearly as brightly as his orange hair.
“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Weasley hissed. And that was a question Draco didn’t know the answer to.
“What did you say?” Harry asked with a frown. Draco stepped back, but kept his posture straight and kept his eyes on Potter. His hands were sweating fists by his sides.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” Draco said finally. Then, as quickly as possible, he darted back towards the dungeons. Vincent and Gregory were sitting on their beds when he got back to the room.
“Where have you been, Draco?” Vincent asked.
“Yeah. You left right after the task was done. We thought you’d be here, but you weren’t,” Gregory chimed in. Draco glared at them and tried to suppress the burning in his cheeks and the twinge under his skin as he changed his clothes and got into bed. They kept trying to ask questions, but Draco was good at ignoring people, and eventually, they got tired of it and went to bed themselves, having long ago got used to Draco’s moods. Soon enough they were asleep and Draco was the only one awake. His mind still swirling with Weasley’s question. By morning another had joined it. Why had he been so affected by Harry Potter being in danger?
Because of his own questions, Draco spent the next few weeks feeling off. It went beyond the twinge of a pull he’d felt the night of the first task and infected every part of his day. In classes he shared with the Gryffindors, he found himself often distracted by Potter and his friends. So much so that even his potions grade had slipped slightly. In the ones he didn’t share with them, he found his mind wandering to Potter anyway. Thinking over what the second task might be if the first was that dangerous. Thinking about the answer to the questions that had been bothering him. Thinking about how he may have been mistaken in previous years. But the train of thought that always surprised him was when he’d find himself thinking about Potter and the Yule Ball.
He knew that most of the students would be staying over the holidays this year for the ball and all of the Champions would be expected to attend with an appropriate date. If Draco had been the Champion, he would have been looking for the date that would improve his status the best while making himself look better. But Harry had never shown himself to follow that line of thinking and had often done his best to blend in. So Draco knew that Harry would likely ask someone he actually liked to the ball. Or someone that he knew would say yes. There was even a chance they would be someone he’d chosen to help another friend. Draco just didn’t have a clue who it would be. At first, he thought Harry would ask Granger, but then he learned that Granger had secured a date, though he couldn't have cared less with whom. Draco also knew from witnessing a rather unfortunate event concerning Fleur Delacour, that Potter’s closest Weasley lacked a date, even after the term had ended. Draco was also without a date, but that mattered less. He hadn’t been looking for one. And he wasn’t one of the Champions so he didn't need one. However, when Pansy Parkinson asked, Draco couldn’t find a reason to say no.
So he went to the ball with Pansy, who was dreadfully boring. At first, she stayed by his side and sneered about every other couple she saw. When the Champions arrived with their dates, Pansy leaned into Draco’s side. “Of course Perfect Potter would choose the second most annoying Gryffindor as his date,” she sneered. Draco snorted in agreement when he saw Parvati Patil looking around excitedly, though he honestly knew very little about the girl. “And look, Granger’s switched hair with a horse,” Pansy snickered, pointing to the girl in question. Draco followed her point, choosing not to comment on the bad manners that he wouldn’t expect from a well-trained pureblood. Hermione’s hair was indeed no longer the frizzy mess it usually was, but it was by no means comparable to a horse. She must have used a potion or spell to smooth it out and it actually looked decent. Draco looked at her date and could see that Viktor Krum approved of both the hair and the blue dress robes that Hermione had chosen, so Draco couldn’t see much of interest there. But Pansy continued to whisper insults about Granger in his ear all through the Champions’ dance. Draco was pleased when after only one dance with him, Pansy went off to gossip with the other Slytherin girls.
He found himself a comfortable place to sit and looked around the room for Potter. He tried to tell himself it was just curiosity, but since the first task, he’d found himself looking for Potter every chance he got. And though he hadn’t admitted it, he knew why. That first task had scared him. He had honestly been so scared for Potter. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if Harry was no longer there. Harry was easy to find, sitting beside Weasley and the Patil twins. All four of them looked miserable, but the Patils tried to stick by their dates for longer than Pansy had. Eventually, though, they left for better prospects. Draco watched when later, after dancing most of the night away with Krum, Granger let herself sit with her friends beaming from Krum’s attention. It was the happiest Harry had seemed all night, seeing one of his friends happy, and Draco found himself pleased by it as well. But then Weasley opened his mouth and ruined it. Draco rolled his eyes as Hermione stormed out, rubbing tears from her eyes and chased by a frantic Ginny Weasley. Ron followed the two of them, confused but smug-looking. Jealousy made people do strange things. Draco watched until they disappeared with a sigh.
Then he looked back at Harry. Harry had picked up Hermione’s bag which she had left behind in her outburst and looked as though he was going to follow after her. Draco couldn’t explain why, but he walked over to him. “Doesn’t seem like Granger was too happy with Weasley for that comment,” Draco said before he thought better of it and didn’t speak at all.
Harry looked up at him, somewhat startled. Then he set his face in a firm mask. “What of it, Malfoy? Did you want to cause it yourself?” Harry snapped.
Draco shook his head and held up his hands, a muggle sign to show one was disarmed that he’d learned from the muggle shows he had watched over the summer. “I didn’t mean anything of the sort. Just thought Granger looked unhappy.” Harry frowned at him. “Are you all right?” Draco lowered his hands and shoved them in the pockets of his dress robes.
“You asked that after the dragon, too,” Harry replied.
Draco rolled his eyes, even as he felt some heat rising to his cheeks. “Because I wanted to know.”
“Why?”
“Maybe because you were almost eaten by a dragon,” Draco snorted.
It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. “I would think that’d be cause for celebration for you.”
“I don’t want you dead, Potter,” Draco said. He had to stop himself from biting his lip. “I like playing with you, nothing more.”
“What you do isn’t playing. It’s bullying,” Harry snapped.
Draco sighed and looked at the ground. He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve crossed the line plenty of times.” He couldn’t keep his mind from going to the beginning of the year and the ferret incident. Or the Potter Stinks badges that were still popular among the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him. “Probably shouldn’t have said a lot of what I’ve said. To you and your friends.”
“What are you getting at, Malfoy?” Harry asked, but his voice wasn’t as harsh as Draco had been expecting. Draco looked up and found his green eyes fixed firmly on Draco. Harry’s hair had blown to the side to show his scar and he had such an intense look in his eyes one would think he was weighing life and death not considering a fellow student.
“Nothing. Just thought I’d let you know I’m sorry for before. For all of it.” Draco shrugged. “I realized that I didn’t actually want you hurt when you decided to dive at a dragon.”
“You really mean that?” Harry tilted his head to the side and he looked more relaxed than Draco had seen him in a while. Draco shrugged again.
“Never did want you hurt. Just liked our game.”
“Game?” Harry huffed, eyes wide in disbelief.
“As I said, I know I’ve crossed that line plenty and at some point, it went from a playful rivalry to something more hostile. But I don’t want to play anymore. And it’s only fair to let your opponent know when you forfeit the game.”
“Life isn’t a game, Draco,” Harry sighed, sounding exasperated. Draco kept himself from tensing at the use of his name. He’d never heard Harry be so casual with him. Not unless he was making threats. This felt different though. It made Draco’s stomach flutter. “You really mean that, though? You’re done? You’re not going to taunt us anymore?”
“No point really. You’ve got more serious enemies these days.” Draco gestured across the room to where Fleur was chatting with Krum. Harry looked and sighed.
“More than you know.”
“If you mean whoever put your name in the Goblet, then I know perfectly well they’re a threat, even if I don’t know who they are.” Draco waved his hand dismissively before crossing his arms. “A cowardly move, if you ask me.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open, but Draco just raised his eyebrows a bit. “How’d you know I didn’t put my name in myself?”
“Because you’re not an idiot, no matter how much I treated you like one. You knew that the tournament was just about making a name for yourself and your school. Something to brag about and use to get the things you want. Even if you’d been clever enough to figure out how to get past the age line, you had no reason to. You don’t care for political power or popularity or prestige. You haven’t since you got here. You have wanted to keep from drawing attention to yourself. You’ve been the-boy-who-lived and yet I think most of the time you’d rather if you were just an average student.” Draco wasn’t sure what to do with the openly amazed look on Harry’s face once he’d finished speaking. He shifted his feet and shoved his hands in his pocket again, feeling nervous for no reason whatsoever. Then Harry smiled. It was a small thing, nothing compared to how he looked when he was celebrating with Gryffindor or laughing with his friends. It was just a small smile, but this one was all for Draco. And, oh. Oh. Draco’s stomach flipped and his heart raced. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Draco cut him off. “Just came over to make sure you were all right. Later, Potter.” Then Draco left, nearly running once again.
“Malfoy!” Harry called, but Draco didn’t stop until he was back in the dungeons. He could feel the same twinge as before and it took longer to push the twinge aside. But once he had, he found some parchment and started writing. His mother would know what to do.
Narcissa Malfoy was accustomed to getting letters from Draco at least once a week while he was at school. The content was always varied, but it usually didn’t matter much. They were just a way that Draco liked to use to show that he cared for his mother. If pressed, Narcissa would admit that many had the same subject and it had been that way from the moment the first letter arrived. Since he’d been sorted into Slytherin, nearly every letter Draco sent mentioned Harry Potter. At first, Narcissa assumed that Draco knew what he was doing and that the interest would fade over time. However, as time went on, she came to understand that Draco was entirely unaware of his own obsession. It had become something of a joke between herself and Lucius. Especially after Draco’s first summer home and the many days Lucius had spent trying to get away from his own son and his never-ending monologue about how ‘he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick’. Narcissa had gotten great joy from Lucius’s annoyance.
After it continued through Draco’s third year though, Narcissa thought that Draco would never understand. She had never been so pleased to be wrong as she was reading Draco’s latest letter. She’d never heard her son sound so frantic, but she couldn’t keep herself from chuckling. Lucius found her still chuckling at it when he finally joined her at the breakfast table. “And what is so entertaining this morning?” Lucius said.
“Draco has finally figured it out,” Narcissa replied cheerfully.
Lucius took a sip of his coffee before he picked up the paper and started reading it. “Figured what out?” he asked absently.
“About Potter,” she supplied. Then she waited a moment as it set in. The paper lowered and Lucius looked at her with wide eyes. “His letter is quite a riot.” Narcissa held the letter up with a smirk. “I thought yours were awful, but really.” She grinned. Lucius raised a curious eyebrow. “‘When he smiled at me it was like I’d caught the snitch at the World Cup’. And ‘his eyes were like emeralds and I wanted to be the dragon protecting them’.” She couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.
“Oh for goodness sake,” Lucius moaned. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen this coming. He rubbed at his forehead. “That boy.”
“It gets better, dear. He goes on to say that he has no idea how to woo a muggle.”
“Harry Potter is not a muggle. He’s a halfblood, nearly pure from an almost respectable family line, excusing the prior generation. Potter isn’t making much of a name for himself by befriending blood traitors and mudbloods. But he is not a muggle."
“I’m sure he’s aware of all that, Lucius. We have been very careful about educating him,” Narcissa said carefully, trying to sidestep her husband's more radical tendencies. “Draco wanting to court Harry Potter is a good thing, but Potter was raised in the muggle world and likely will respond to muggle traditions better than Wizarding traditions. Besides, Draco attempting to behave like a muggle is an entertaining thought.”
“Narcissa,” Lucius scolded, though there was the barest hint of a smile. “He’s meant to be honing his skills not wooing someone so close to Dumbledore.”
Narcissa waved her hand. “Harry Potter could be a valuable ally if Draco succeeds. But don’t worry about his methods. I’ll set him straight, so to speak. You have a meeting with the minister tonight. Let the staff know what you’d like prepared before you head to work. I have a letter to write.” She waved Draco’s letter at her husband as she stood up.
“Please keep him from behaving like a muggle. I don’t think our family would survive the shame.” Lucius sighed. “It’s bad enough that it’s Potter of all people that he’s chosen to court. I told him to make an ally of Potter in his first year. Better late than never, I suppose.”
Narcissa leaned over and kissed him as he returned his attention to the paper. “Of course, dear.” She didn’t mention the other part of the letter that had concerned her. The twinge Draco had felt on the edge of his control. There were some things that remained of Lucius’ upbringing that Lucius would never be free of, no matter how hard he’d tried. Things that Narcissa had to protect Draco from.