Chapter Text
Harry sits alone in the Eighth year's common room.
In the name of Unity, Hogwarts has adopted a few new policies to promote a sense of one-ness after the war. One of those new policies is that dorming students is now by year rather than house. Houses have truly taken a back burner this year, and until 'war sentiments' have gone, so as to not further the divide and prejudices.
Harry doesn't mind this part too much. It's for the greater good, yes, but it also keeps admiring and accusing eyes off of him. The younger students he has almost made him regret finishing his education.
Actually, Harry does regret coming back. He had a nice hectic job, that perfectly matched his nice and hectic life, all lined up for him after the war, but somehow Hermione had convinced him into finishing his education;
----- "Listen Harry. I have talked to Ron too. I truly believe that it will be best if you two come back with me." Hermione continues as Harry starts to open his mouth to interrupt, "He's agreed as long as it's all three of us."
Harry had been trying to avoid this talk all summer. He likes to avoid conversations that end with him doing the opposite of what he feels is right. He knows trying to fight Hermione's logic will only end with him bending to her will, but he's gotta try.
"Hermione I want to start my life..." Harry sighs, "I have been stuck in this war for the past seven years. It is time to move on."
"Can't you see? You won't be moving on past the war, you'll be living it every day. We have done our part, Harry. Let the grown-ups clean it up."
"Like leaving them to it did any good the first time around. There are still people to catch and things to put right. This is an opportunity that I just can't turn down"
"It's a great opportunity for you now, but what if this is not what you want to do with the rest of your life? What if you wake up in five years, after all the death eaters are gone and you realize you are tired of chasing bad guys? All you'll know is war. Only qualified to be a glorified auror." Hermione reaches out to take Harry's hand and then continues, "It's just one year. If I am wrong the opportunity will still be there. You'll actually be qualified once you graduate. Give it a chance. The three of us should finish this adventure together."
She always knows what to say...
"Together," Harry agrees ------
Harry chuckles quietly to himself.
So much for together, he thinks.
Harry shakes his head. He shouldn't be thinking like that. He should be happy for them. He is. He is happy for them. He's so glad that Ron and Hermione found happiness in each other after all they have been through. It's just the past month has been... rough. A combination of four factors has left him feeling as though all of this was a major mistake.
First is rather silly to admit, but he is in a down mood so he might as well list it. There is just so much school to do this year. In the past seven years before this, there had always been some sort of disaster that kept any serious schooling from taking place. Now it felt like the professors were trying to make up for every lost lecture into this one semester. Harry hates to admit it, but Hermione was right. There was still so much left for Harry to learn. At least with all the other stuff it gave him a lot of time to study. He needed it if he was going to graduate.
Next is all the attention. Positive and Negative.
It is not so bad with his own class. They all knew him before so the awe has worn off. You can only save people so many times before they just see it as something you do. (Not that Harry thought of what he did as saving people. It was just surviving.) No, the issue came from the lower classes. They were full of watching eyes. Admiration and fear followed his every move.
Harry's admiring fans would stare. They stare as he eats, as he works, as he studies. And, unfortunately, staring is the least intrusive thing they did. Some would approach him and start babbling, thanking, and praising in a way that would end with Harry's ears as red as cherries. others would freeze, Ron once said 'starstruck', in front of him. He never knew how to respond to those. It felt wrong to walk around them but trying to talk to them often ended in fainting. Then there were the giggling girls. Now that was the worst. There is no escape from that attention unless he hides out in the Eighth Years' tower.
Worse than the admiration, was the fear in some of the younger students' eyes. In the hallways, they would stare at him like deer in headlights. As of he would run them down like a semi-truck onto that deer. Then there is the pang of guilt, ever so small, when he watches as they disappear to avoid his gaze. As though they believe he would punish them for their parents' crimes. As if he was the monster. He knows they do not know any better. Only what was taught to them. They are just children.
He even feared that some of them blamed him for what was happening to their families. Some of them look accusingly at him. He knows that many of them had lost a parent or two in the battle. Or they were arrested after. As they should have been, but children did not know better. He knows how it feels to be without a family at such a young age. Still, he hates that the hate and prejudices will keep spreading even with that monster gone.
To top it all off Hermione and Ron had left him alone to deal with it all.
Harry had believed that they would be in this together. Yes, it was going to be weird for them, but at least it would be weird for all of them. Only when the trio got to Hogwarts the couple immediately fell into a honeymoon phase. Although they had made their feelings clear during the battle, the relationship did not start until they arrived here at the beginning of the semester. Their summer had been separate: Ron was with his family, grieving and healing. Hermione was with Harry trying to find her own family after she wiped their memory. So when they finally made it back to each other the relationship took off like a speeding train.
Since the first week, Ron and Hermione have been spending all their time together. They have been going off on sickly sweet dates, sneaking off at every chance to have a snog, or finding a way into the other's bed. It had gotten so intense that Hermione was no longer at the top of the class. It would be heartwarming if it didn't leave him to deal with the rest alone.
In his head, he could hear the echo of Malfoy saying 'Little full of yourself there, Potta!' or 'Oh poor Boy-Who-Lived, Everyone loves and respects me, woah is me' or 'Boo Hoo my best friends are paying attention to someone other than me', like a ghost in his head. Except even that has changed.
Malfoy came back, but it would be the same if he was a ghost. He haunts the common room even now. Harry lifts his head from his textbook to look at Malfoy in the opposite corner. The other students' eyes now gloss over Malfoy, as if he's not there, but not Harry's. Harry always knows where Malfoy is in a room. He can't help it.
Harry studies Malfoy. His hair is grown out, he is letting it shield his face from the rest of the room. Harry is not worried about being caught staring. He knows now that Malfoy avoids looking at him most of the time. It must be on purpose. Admittedly, Harry spends a lot of his time watching him. He's concluded that nobody could be that consistent on accident.
When Harry catches a glace of his face after Malfoy takes his delicate hand and tucks his hair behind his ear to get a better view of his book. Harry soaks it in before Malfoy remembers himself again. It's a rare sight and he does not want to miss it. Malfoys face is looking better than the first time Harry saw it this semester. He still has the sunken-in look that comes with never sleeping through the night, but his face is fuller, unlike the skeletal-looking image in his memory. He's been eating more since he started having his meals in here about two weeks ago. Harry had been doing the same thing when Ron or Hermione were nowhere around.
Suddenly, Harry is grateful for Hermione and Ron. If it were not for them, he would have likely isolated himself as Malfoy had. He cringes thinking of the sound of Malfoy's voice whenever he answers a question in class. The crack and strain of it, as if he never uses it outside of class. Most of Malfoys old friends had not come back. Many Slytherin eighth years had transferred to wizarding schools out of the country and the ones that hadn't did not seem to reach out to Malfoy. Maybe to protect their reputation, perhaps they had not been true friends to begin with, just using each other to get ahead. Or maybe it was because Malfoy was doing his best to keep everyone out. Who could say? Either way, it was clear Malfoy was suffering from the same loneliness Harry was dealing with now.
Another movement from Malfoy drew Harry back to the present. Malfoy, deep in thought, brought the end of his quill to his lips. The tip of the feather traces his lips. Harry's breath gets caught in his throat as his eyes follow the movement. Harry is unable to look away. Again the tip of the feather travels around the edge of his lip. First the top lip. Next the plump bottom lip. Then traces back and forth almost tickling it. At last, Malfoy opens up his mouth and captures the end of his feather on his tongue then in between his lips as his mouth closes.
Harry drops his own quill to the floor.
It was such a small noise, and yet across the room, Malfoy's head shoots up. His eyes dart around the common room. The same way Harry has seen him do many times when startled. Except this time he makes eye contact with Harry. Malfoys body freezes but his eyes widen with fear and shame. He ducks his head before Harry can break the stare. His shoulder-length hair is once again covering his face from the world... Or maybe just Harry.
The look of fear in Malfoys eyes brought back memories of the younger students who avoid him in the halls.
That's it! Harry thinks angrily, Something got to be done.
He won't be the reason Malfoy looks like that.
Harry stands up and crosses the room to Malfoy.