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When Harry first opened the door to the boy's bathroom, he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. All the taps lining the bathroom wall were on, causing water to flow out and puddle on the floor. Above the basins, mirrors reflected a subtle green glow coming from a mysterious light source, along with Draco Malfoy. The last part wasn’t particularly unexpected. The reason Harry had come to the bathroom in the first place was to speak to the boy. However, what did come as a surprise was the way Malfoy was hunched over one of the far sinks. Malfoy's shoulders were shaking and his hands clenched the rim of the basin tightly. From Harry's reflected view in the mirrors, Malfoy's cheeks appeared to be shining wet.
A stifled choking sob followed by a whimper was Harry’s cue to leave. Harry typically considered himself a good person. Someone kind enough to comfort anyone in need, always the bigger person, forgive and forget. Over the years, however, Harry had come to find he was in fact not quite kind enough for everything. And sneaking out instead of comforting Malfoy was one thing that would certainly mar his record of kindness.
Harry took a step back then another before looking back at the sinks. Malfoy was now attempting to brush his hair back, his fingers tugged harshly through knots making Harry’s gut twist. He wanted to walk forwards. Maybe it was Harry’s instinctual kindness kicking in belatedly. Or maybe, worst of all, Hermione was right and his little obsession with Malfoy was a bit more than he’d been letting on. He took another step back. Harry’s back gently hit the door and he pushed that thought from his mind. Harry reached back to grab the gilded handle, preparing to open it as quietly as possible. However, luck had never really been on Harry's side and apparently, today was no exception. Before he could fully twist the handle Malfoy’s head had raised. Their eyes locked in the mirror. Fuck.
Malfoy's hand flitted from the side of the basin to his pocket. His wand.
Harry ducked and hit the floor hard, foot splashing in a questionable green puddle. The spell streaked above him, hitting hard and leaving a sizzling spot on a stall door. Another light blasted near Harry, forcing him to scramble up and raise a sloppy shield. Malfoy raised his wand once again, sending another wordless curse in Harry's direction. Harry was thankful that any sympathy he might have been feeling towards Malfoy was now fully gone. Despite the rare human emotion, Malfoy was still a slimy bastard. Harry was really starting to regret this little bathroom detour. All he’d wanted to do was confirm what he’d been suspecting for months—Malfoy's dark wizardness. Harry had hoped for some intense questioning to get that confirmation, not an exchange of curses. Though Harry did suppose that if this little brawl was anything to go by it seemed he was correct after all.
Harry slipped behind a row of stalls, wincing as his shoe filled with more grimy liquid from the floor. He waited for a few moments, gaining composure and quickly drying his shoe. It seemed Harry really didn’t have a choice, he had to stop being defensive. Ducking from cover Harry sent his own bout of wordless spells. To no surprise, but much disappointment, they were all blocked by a shield. Various wordless curses and spells passed between them, all missing their marks. Harry fortified his shield and tried to collect his thoughts. Quick and clean, that's how he wanted this to end— a strategy he was sure Ginny wouldn’t be fond of. Harry racked his brain. The Half-blood Prince's textbook, how the hell was that spell pronounced again? Sectimsampe was it? Another streak of blue light careened past Harry's head and hit the wall to his left. Bloody hell Harry was sick of this already. He darted out from behind the stall to face Malfoy who was standing next to the circle of sinks.
Malfoy raised his wand, “Cruc—”
“Expelliarmus!"
The wand leaped out of Malfoy's hand, landing nicely in Harry's. He promptly pointed both at Malfoy who narrowed his eyes and clenched and unclenched his fists. Once again he’d beaten Draco Malfoy in a duel. Harry took a step forward. The other boy took a step back, hip hitting the basin, eyes never leaving the two wands trained on his head. Harry's gut twisted and a sick feeling settled. There was probably a time Harry would have loved to see Malfoy like this, rumpled button-up shirt, tear-stained face, practically cowering in fear. But now the sight only made Harry's gut clench. It was so unlike the Malfoy he’d known throughout school, always so proper and neat. The sight was frankly quite startling. Well, everything else was different now, what with ol’ Voldy out and about, why not Malfoy's appearance as well?
Malfoy's jaw twitched and he stirred from where he was tensing in preparation. “So,” said Malfoy, ”are you going to finish this or not Potter?”
His voice was shaky, words uneven, and the ‘ so’ a bit too pitchy. Malfoy's eyes still didn’t leave the wands. Harry considered it. Just a few curses, a little revenge. The word, Sectumsempra , now sat firmly in his mind. Right on the tip of Harry's tongue. He probably wouldn’t get another chance like this again. And he was so damn curious what that mystery spell did. Maybe it turns a person's hair blue. Or made rats fly at the victim. Harry clenched the wands tighter in his right hand. Or maybe the spell slashed a person in two, turning a person's guts inside out.
Harry shoved both of their wands in his pocket, “No.”
Malfoy tightened his grip on the basin, “No?” His shoulders dropped and his forehead smoothed out, mouth curving upwards, “Don’t wanna ruin your squeaky clean record eh’ Potter?”
Harry didn’t dignify that with an answer. He instead stepped closer to assess Malfoy, trying to decide what approach would work best. He wanted to hear from Malfoy himself that he was right, that he was helping the Death Eaters. Malfoy's eyes were still swollen and red. Jaw tightened, lips pursed, blonde hair sprawled messily across his brow. As much as he wanted to sucker punch Malfoy right now there was no denying how sad it would make Harry to ruin the other boy's perfect face. He really hoped it wouldn’t take that kind of coaxing to make Malfoy confirm what he already knew to be true.
“Are you helping them, Malfoy?”
When he didn’t respond Harry took a step closer and held the wands up. He really hoped intimidation might work.
Malfoy took his own step away, “Potter.” his voice was low, “Give me my wand and leave.”
Really nothing could be easy with Malfoy. Not that Harry had expected him to admit his status as death eater lap dog right away, but still, Harry was so clearly threatening him. Did Malfoy have no sense of self-preservation anymore? He used to be such a damn coward. Harry moulded his face into a tight sneer. He just needed that confirmation he was right about Malfoy, that his obsession with the boy was warranted.
“Malfoy,” Harry forced a scowl, ”I know you were the one who tried killing Dumbledore. And honestly,” a cruel smile for good measure, “I hope you know the only way this’ll end is with you in a casket.”
Malfoy's eyes widened into saucers and his shoulders tensed at his side. Harry prepared to duck from the expected left hook at his face. Instead, Malfoy swivelled away from Harry and retched into the basin behind him. Now it was Harry's turn to widen his eyes. Malfoy was heaving heavily, his coughs echoing off the bathroom tiles. So Harry had in fact gone too far. He didn’t move, Harry wanted to do something, anything to help. Nerves used to make Ron throw up before quidditch matches. In an attempt to help Harry had always rubbed Ron’s back until he calmed, it had always seemed to work back then. But Ron was also his best friend, while Malfoy would better be described as an enemy.
Horrible choking sounds were coming from where Malfoy's head was still bowed. Harry made his decision and reached out a hand, tentatively placing it on Malfoy's back. The other boy flinched but didn’t pull away or hit him, making Harry quite relieved. Harry could feel his own pulse beating in his hand, sending a tingling sensation to his fingertips. He didn’t move a muscle, not wanting to scare Malfoy off. A minute went by like that, Malfoy heaving over the sink, breath hitching, and Harry's hand placed on the small of his back, applying heavy pressure, thumb moving in small circles. After a few final retches Malfoy's breathing evened out and his hands released their death grip on the basin rim.
That was Harry's cue to move his hand before it got sliced off. Damn it. Harry missed the warmth already. He shoved both hands in his pockets and turned his attention to Malfoy, “You…okay?”
Malfoy ducked his head and washed his mouth out, not responding. Harry fiddled with Malfoy's wand in his pocket, wondering if he should just take the opportunity and leave. Before he could make his move and escape Malfoy had stood up and turned to face Harry. A muscle was twitching in Malfoy's cheek and he didn't meet Harry's eyes, instead focusing on a distant spot behind him.
“Happy Potter? You’ve gotten your laughs out at the doomed death eater okay? Now just give me my wand and let me leave.”
“No,” Harry's mouth had opened before even considering the request. Some masochistic part of him was apparently enjoying this exchange.
Malfoy eyed the wands in Harry's pockets, fingers twitching slightly, and Harry shifted them to his right hand, grasping both tightly. It would be extremely embarrassing if Malfoy got the jump on him and he ended up being the one with no wand. Harry hadn’t meant to kidnap Malfoy's wand but now that he’d gotten it, and Malfoy, with him he couldn’t quite let go yet.
“Well, suppose it can’t be helped.”
Harry blinked, surprised at the practically calm words that had left Malfoy's mouth. Okay, so Malfoy was definitely trying to play him. What the hell was his angle? Still reeling from the damn pleasantness that had left Malfoy's mouth, Harry was in no way prepared for the next surprise as Malfoy pushed himself from where he was leaning and squatted down in front of Harry. After dodging puddles Malfoy sat on the bathroom floor, legs crossed. If Harry had less dignity his mouth would be wide open. Draco Malfoy was sitting on the bathroom floor . And from what Harry could see he was wearing a really nice pair of pants. They were just the right fit for him. A bit tight around the ass which Harry appreciated a lot. Colour complemented Malfoy's complexion as well—
“Okay, make a decision Potter.” Harry blinked, taking his eyes off the other boy's pants and Malfoy continued, “Either curse me or let me go, come on you're wasting my time.”
Harry took enough time to look away from Malfoy's mouth so he could instead listen to his words, “I’m wasting your time? You’re the one who won't answer any of my questions directly.” said Harry indignantly. Now he was focused, “Also, what's up with the change in attitude? Isn’t this the part where you threaten me with your father?”
Malfoy scowled then rolled his eyes, “He’s busy and you're stubborn, there's no use. Don’t want to waste his time with you. And maybe if you asked questions I actually wanted to answer I’d be more direct.”
Ah so that was it, Malfoy didn’t have the backing of father dearest anymore. As usual, he was being a prideful coward and trying to save face after throwing up. It struck Harry that Malfoy's vomiting was sort of a confession in its own right. Probably more truthful than any words that would come from the boy's mouth anyways. So then Harry could leave now, couldn’t he? His mission was accomplished, there was nothing left here to learn. Harry willed himself to move his feet and leave but he stayed in place. Fucking hell he never changed. It was the same tugging in Harry’s chest that had kept him stuck to Malfoy's side during that detention in the forbidden forest. The same urge that kept his eyes pinned to the back of the other's head in class. It was that same depressing obsession that had always left Harry unsatisfied. A fascination spanning years from the day they’d met. Harry pulled himself from his head. Maybe this was Harry's chance to finally stomp out his obsession with the other.
Harry sat down as well. “Fair enough I suppose. If you did tell the truth I would’ve been extremely worried that you were being Imperioed.”
“Oh please, like you’d ever worry for me.”
“Trust me I do worry” Harry paused, and looked at Malfoy's surprised face, “Uh— well I mean how could I not worry about your obviously declining mental state after seeing you sit down on this dirty bathroom floor with no hesitation.”
Harry willed his face to not turn red. Oh god. Hermione could never find out about this conversation. She would never let him live it down. Not that Harry would ever let himself forget his blabbering mouth. It was just one humiliating sentence after another.
Malfoy tilted his head, looking at Harry, eyes unreadable, “Well now you're just being ridiculous. I sit on floors.” He stuck out his hand, palm up, “Now shut up and give me my wand.”
Harry paused for a moment, would Malfoy leave once he got his wand? Something tugged in his chest but Harry ignored it. He hoped Malfoy would leave, anything was better than a second duel. The wands weighed heavy in his pocket. Harry really didn’t want to be forced into another duel. He couldn’t say for sure this time he wouldn’t just throw the fight. Harry sighed, either way, he couldn’t keep Malfoy's wand forever.
“Will you curse me?”
Malfoy smirked and met Harry's eyes, “Can’t say for sure.”
Harry sighed. That was probably the best answer he was going to get. Harry really hoped he wouldn’t regret the decision. He pulled Malfoy's wand out of his pocket and passed it over. Harry prepared for a curse to fly his way or for Malfoy to make the motions to stand.
Malfoy did neither and instead slipped the wand into his pocket before looking back up to Harry with a slight smirk on his face, “Wonderful. Now if you decide to curse me I can defend myself.”
“Oh please. I beat you once—sorry twice before—I could do it again.”
“Don’t worry Potter, one day I’ll fulfill those masochistic dreams of yours and win.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “No, I wouldn't want to deny you of your own personal fantasies.”
Malfoy snorted in response.
Harry surveyed Malfoy. Maybe he should appreciate this moment more, Malfoy looking like such a mess was certainly a rare sight. His face was still splotchy and red from the crying, and now his usually perfectly styled hair was completely messed up. The sleeves of Malfoy's shirt were rolled up and the top two buttons were unbuttoned, exposing part of his collarbone. He was gorgeous. And it was frankly annoying Malfoy didn’t come to school like this . Whole wizarding war would be solved in Harry's opinion. Harry's mouth curved up. Damn it, Hermione was once again right about Harry. Harry snorted as he took in Malfoy's expression that so clearly read, ‘Are you kidding me? ’
“Sorry, sorry!” Harry smirked, “I’ve never seen you look like such a mess before. Usually, you're so” Harry waved his hands around trying to find the word, “pruned and pretty.”
Malfoy stared at him incredulously, “Pruned and pretty ? God, I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered.”
Harry snorted again, “Maybe a bit of both?”
Malfoy placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a sharp shove. Directly into a puddle.
“Bloody hell! Oh ew!” Now it was Malfoy's turn to laugh and Harry's turn to scowl. “God this is disgusting. How many kids do you think have pissed in this puddle?” Harry dragged himself out of the pool of water, drying his pants with a quick spell.
“I assume just the right amount to make those pants unwearable forever probably.”
Harry scooted closer to where Malfoy was sitting, away from the damned puddle, “Ugh, and Ron’s gonna kill me if I stink up our room.”
“Oh please, like he can smell anything except Lavender Brown's perfume after all that time he spends licking her mouth clean.”
Harry cringed at the visual, “God you’d probably be right but unlucky for me they broke up just a few days ago.”
“No? Oh well, what a shame, Pansy loved guessing how many leaves we could shove in her hair before they disconnected tongues.”
Harry tried his best to scowl. He really shouldn’t be enjoying this defamation of Ron's character. “Gross. Don’t say stuff like that about my best friend." Then, after numerous attempts to stop his mouth from curving up, “How many did you decide?”
Malfoy's mouth widened, “Thirty-three when in pigtails. Fifty-five when down.”
Harry tapped his chin, “Hmm, seems reasonable I suppose? Hermione would be a fan.”
Malfoy tutted, “Smart girl. I always knew I should’ve tried to befriend her instead of you on the first day. She probably would’ve taken my hand.”
“You remember that?” Harrys hadn’t expected that.
“Of course I do, how could I forget? My ego was so damn bruised.”
“Well you probably needed that,” said Harry, “Though it seems like it didn’t stick.”
“Hmm, suppose not. I’d like to think I’ve changed a bit though.”
“I think you have.” Then, after a beat, “I think we all have honestly.”
Harry didn’t prompt a response and Malfoy didn’t give one. He didn’t know where that had come from but Harry was surprised to find that he believed himself. Malfoy had changed. Two years ago this conversation would have never been able to happen. Hell Harry was still in shock they were talking now. It was ridiculous. One second they were at each other's throats and the next they were laughing together and practically gossiping. It made Harry wonder if this might have always been possible. Them . His chest tightened. Things surely couldn’t have been like this all along. Back then it almost definitely would’ve ended in bloodshed. And now it would probably end that way as well, despite the odd moments of peace.
“It all feels so far away.” Harry looked up at Malfoy and the other continued, “Do you ever miss it? The simplicity of it all?”
Harry looked away to study a spot on the wall still sizzling from one of their rouge spells. Of course, he missed it, he’d be crazy not to. Harry glanced back over to Malfoy, “Yeah, I miss it all.”
“Theo and I used to play exploding snap in the common room all the time, we haven’t done that in years.”
Harry smiled to himself, now that he could understand, “Was the same with Ron and me, except wizards chess. Now it's all girls, quidditch, and well,” he looked over and gestured at Malfoy, “death eaters.”
Fuck . As soon as the words left Harry's mouth he could have hit himself over the head. If Malfoy wasn’t going to leave before there was no way he was going to stay now. Right when they were finding common ground, “Shit Malfoy I’m—”
“It's fine,” Malfoy raked a hand through his hair, “But I wouldn’t have chosen this, you know. If I had the choice.”
“And instead?” Harry rushed out, desperate to change the subject. Malfoy raised an eyebrow and Harry continued, genuinely curious,
“What would you have chosen to do instead?”
The corners of Malfoy's mouth pulled upwards and Harry felt the knot in his throat release slightly. It seemed Malfoy wasn’t going to flee, for now.
“My mother talked about France a lot when I was younger. I think I’d want to go there,” said Malfoy, surprising Harry. Malfoy quirked his mouth up, “You know, live in the Eiffel Tower and eat exclusively bread.”
Harry blinked. That answer wasn’t what he’d been expecting by a long shot. Professional rich person, very possible. High-end shoe collector, maybe? But full-on running away? Surprising—However Harry found he liked it quite a lot. It was different and appealing.
Harry smiled, “Oh man now you’re really speaking my language. Baguettes.”
Malfoy hummed in agreement and shifted his shoulders so Harry could see the whole of his face, not just the side. So casual like they were two old friends jabbing in a grassy field instead of enemies on a bathroom floor. “Now you’ve got it, Potter, baguettes. And brioches.”
Harry willed his stomach not to gurgle, he hadn’t eaten dinner yet and bread was sounding really appealing, “God that sounds incredible right now. I’m definitely going to have to add Parisian bread to my life wish list.”
“Huh, so you’re starting a list now too?”
Harry looked over, a slight smile on his face, “Who’s to say I don’t already have one?”
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, “No way the chosen one ever thinks about running away? So then what the hell is on that damn list?”
Harry leaned his head back, genuinely thinking it over. If he was honest Malfoy seemed to have the right idea. A change in location, something simple. The freedom to do whatever the hell he wanted. Harry looked back at Malfoy, “Maybe a little flat? Definitely some good bread nearby. Paris maybe?”
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, “Paris huh? What are we gonna be flatmates or something?”
Well, he’d imagined neighbors but that certainly would work for him. Harry felt his face heat up. “What? The bread really convinced me.”
Malfoy snorted, “I’ll allow it. With your Auror income we could actually afford quite a nice place I suppose.”
“Sorry, incomes all gonna be on you Malfoy. I’ve had quite enough dark wizard chasing for a lifetime.”
Malfoy smirked, then gestured to himself, “But you’re so good at it! Look, you found me!”
“Oh please, you’re no dark wizard.”
“I personally take offense to that.”
Harry sighed dramatically, “Of course you do.”
Malfoy smirked and leaned back onto the bottom of the basin. Harry leaned back as well and they fell into a comfortable silence. Harry let his mind wander. How long had they been in here? It couldn’t have been longer than ten, fifteen, minutes. His friends were probably wondering where he had gone. Ron would laugh his ass off if he knew Harry was sitting with Malfoy in silence. Close enough Harry could slide his hand into Malfoy's so easily. If he leaned over just an inch their shoulders would be pressing together. What would Malfoy do, would he lean into Harry or pull away?
Malfoy's voice broke Harry's train of thought. “We could do it, you know.” A pause, Malfoy fiddled with his sleeve, “Run away from all of this.”
Harry smiled slightly and quickly glanced over at Malfoy. The other's face was serious and he wasn’t looking over at Harry. The chuckle that had been bubbling in Harry's throat died down. Harry turned away again. Malfoy was serious. Harry let his mouth curve upwards as he found himself considering it, running away. They’d get a small flat. Somewhere near a farmers market so Malfoy could get his bread. Maybe Harry would take up a hobby, knitting or baking. Either way, it would be a life away from their responsibilities, their only concern who got the bigger room in the flat. It sounded great, perfect. His friends could visit on weekends, and Sirius on— right .
His thoughts trailed off and a knot formed in Harry's throat, as it always did when his godfather crossed his mind. Sirius was dead. And if Harry left more people would die as well. He couldn’t just up and leave his friends, they were counting on him, Dumbledore was counting on him. Hell, the whole wizard world was.
Harry turned towards the other, trying to collect his thoughts, “Malfoy I don’t—”
“I know” Malfoy cut him off quickly, voice low, “stupid idea, we’d probably kill each other quicker than this war will.” he turned towards Harry with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I suppose a painful death fighting is more noble than getting strangled in my sleep by you.”
Harry wanted to say something that would make it all better. It was all perfect when they were just joking around. Then Malfoy had to open his stupid mouth and ruin their peace. Harry reached out and touched Malfoy's arm, hoping to calm the other and bring that peace back. The other boy's face didn’t change, eyes merely getting more distant.
Harry's chest tightened. “Trust me, I wish I could. It's just… there are things I have to do and…”
A few moments went by before the other boy looked over at Harry, smiling sadly, “Right,” his voice was soft, “we all have our roles to play.”
The red rim around Malfoy's eyes had died down. Replaced with a slight blotchiness and more prominent eye bags. His eyes were sunken with a desolate stare that hadn’t been so noticeable before. Malfoy lifted his arm and slipped Harry's hand off, making to get up off the floor. Harry sucked in a breath as he realized Malfoy was leaving.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
Malfoy stood fully up, dusting off the front of his pants, attempting to smooth out his rumpled white collared shirt.
“I was supposed to meet with Severus and I’m already quite late.”
Harry's hand fell, “Oh. I see”
Harry didn’t see. He didn’t want this to end. This stupid conversation. The even stupider relationship that was building up to friendship, if time was just on his side. If he could just shoot out his hand and pull Draco down and… And Harry didn’t move from his spot on the bathroom floor. Draco started to turn then paused before sticking out his hand. Harry looked at it for a moment not understanding.
“Walk out with me?”
Harry felt a smile rush to his face, Draco wanted him to take his hand. Almost on instinct, Harry started to raise his own hand before retracting it down to his side and away from Draco. Of course, Harry wanted to go with Draco. But he couldn’t . His mind went back to Sirius. And his friends and everyone else he’d ever cared about, he would never forgive himself if he lost them. Harry had to stay focused on his goal. Draco was a distraction.
“I’m sorry Draco.”
Draco's own hand dropped to his side and he wouldn't meet Harry's gaze, “Right.”
Harry's gut twisted as Draco turned away from him, not saying another word. Harry opened his mouth, a shout lodged in his throat. He wanted to say something. Say some declaration. Some promises. Something to make Draco stay. But as always he was too late. The door clicked firmly behind Draco before words could be formed, and Harry was left sitting alone on the grimy floor. He closed his mouth.
A few minutes passed and Harry waited. Part of him hoped Draco would come back and ask again for Harry to join him. And another part hoped he wouldn’t because Harry wasn’t sure he would be able to say no again. It was colder alone in the bathroom. The walls were dimmer. Smells more acrid. Not a pleasant place to spend your evening. Harry stood up, he had homework to do. Shutting the heavy door behind him, Harry didn’t look back. He couldn’t waste any more time sitting distracted on a bathroom floor.