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Chapter Text

Every spring and summer, the small part of Narcissa that enjoyed luxury and beauty itched to come back and rule her life. If there was one thing she would never regret about marrying Lucius, it was living in Malfoy Manor and not in the somber Grimmauld Place or the other equally dull Black properties.

She had always loved Malfoy Manor bathed in the sun, the gardens full of life, and their family magic humming pleasantly in the air. The roses added not only a regal grace, but also a sweet fragrance Narcissa adored. They also attracted a great variety of butterflies, robins and fairies. Their small pond sparkled under the sun, and the peacocks lay down under the fresh shadows of the trees, tired of chasing bowtruckles. It was a scene so perfect her fingers itched to paint it when it was in full bloom, before it was too late.

She knew in two years darkness would infiltrate, rotting the manor from the inside. Beauty and life would be drained in three years, leaving it like an empty shell, ruined like their family. 

The clock was ticking. She had so much to do.

A loud voice interrupted her thoughts. She sighed and waited.

The voice got closer. No longer childish, it was the smooth voice of a young man. Draco was growing up so fast.

Narcissa paid brief attention to the words. She always checked if lines were crossed, if Lucius tried to hurt their son. Like all the times since the school year ended, the argument stayed in heated words from Draco and not-so-surprising-anymore patience and stubbornness from Lucius. There was no need for her to intervene. Not since Draco turned out to be a very outspoken teenager and Lucius decided he wouldn’t retaliate in any way that would turn their son against them.

“I don’t want to go! It’s boring. It’s useless. It’s pathetic,” Draco walked into the room, scowling at his father.

Lucius looked at the ceiling and then at her, searching for patience. She gave him her most comforting smile.

“You can’t say such things about the meetings with our equals, Draco,” Lucius said.

“Our so-called-equals,” Draco scoffed. “You want me to be like them. To admire them. News for you! It’s not working! It won’t work! Never! You’re only showing me how boring it is to grow up to become one of your people, all babbling about how great they are, showing off their pure blood, while they are rotting inside their fancy robes”.

“This time the meeting is with someone closer to your age. Do you remember Marcus Flint? You’ll learn about his new job in the Ministry. He got it because of our contacts and he’ll tell you how much he enjoys–”.

“I don’t care!”

“Don’t yell, darling,” Narcissa said softly.

Draco threw her a betrayed look. She raised an eyebrow and he huffed.

Lucius continued his speech, keeping his voice monotone and firm.

“I’ve tolerated enough of your tantrums, Draco. You will be ready to go in an hour. You will behave according to your status”.

“Or what?” Draco asked, using his most haughty sneer. “I stay in my room? I would rather stay grounded than meet whoever you want to and listen to them for hours talk about their stupid families and their stupid privileges they are so proud of”.

“You will meet as many people as I tell you to, Draco. You will keep hearing about our legacy and our duties until you get back to the best path for you. You will not go to the Quidditch World Cup if you don’t fulfill your duties as my heir”.

Draco opened his mouth in shock. He closed it quickly. “You wouldn’t. You already have our tickets”.

“If you don’t behave, I will not take you with us. I will go with your mother and we will enjoy the game without your constant disrespect”.

Draco turned big pleading eyes to her, but Narcissa shook her head minutely. Her son had to learn to control his behaviour in unfavourable situations.

Draco glowered at Lucius. Realizing that neither of them were going to fold at his demands, he finally squared his shoulders, adopted the blank expression she taught him, and nodded in dignified defeat.

Lucius nodded, solemnly accepting his victory.

“I will go to my room to get ready”. Draco walked away. His anger showed on his stiff back and the ungraceful movement of his robes. 

“I don’t know why–” Lucius began. He sat on his favourite armchair and extended his hand. Immediately, an elf appeared with a glass of wine. Lucius held it and the elf disappeared. Lucius drank without relaxing his frown.

Narcissa could understand his frustration. In the other past, Draco would never raise his voice at Lucius. He would never question him, and he would be pleased to do anything his father asked him to. It was how Narcissa and Lucius had been raised, respecting their elders, obeying and believing every word they said, even if their words were tainted with hate and promises of violence.

But change was necessary for survival, and Narcissa was seeing the fruits of her changes, the results of talking more with Draco and pushing him to meet people outside his small circle of pure-blood friends. 

The Draco in the new present was not afraid to speak up against Lucius. Once he saw there was no harsh punishment, he grew bolder and refused to submit to Lucius' speeches or plans. While Draco had chosen subtlety years before, after his third year he became louder and more determined.

Lucius was clearly exhausted. He had changed too, not too much, but enough so Narcissa could notice. He had the same beliefs he always had, and he kept his firm decision on making Draco his heir, with everything it implied.

However, his approach had softened.

After his mistake with opening the Chamber of Secrets hurt their son, Lucius spent a year distant with Draco, granting him freedom and expensive presents. It was a silent recognition of his wrongdoing and it was the most he would offer instead of a verbal apology. Narcissa had taught Draco to understand such signs from prideful pure-bloods, but their son didn’t appreciate the distance or the presents.

Instead, he grew closer to all the friendships Lucius despised and got himself involved in supporting one of the lowest creatures in the magical world. After the infamous trial that presented a letter in support of a werewolf signed by Draco and many other students, Lucius had been furious. He had been loudly disappointed, but he hadn’t exploded like she feared.

“I should’ve known distance wouldn’t work,” he had told Narcissa. “Draco has always been so sensitive. I can’t expect him to learn our ways if I push him away”.

In the other past, Lucius hadn’t recognized Draco’s feelings, the strong emotions that moved his actions until it was too late. Lucius had abused the love and admiration Draco felt for him, and then left him alone to figure out the consequences of following orders unsuitable for a boy. He had been unable to understand and connect his ingrained coldness with Draco’s softer nature. Lucius had pushed him away. They went to Azkaban without talking about the important things. Narcissa was sure Lucius died without apologizing for involving him in the war. She only hoped Draco had known that his father loved him in the other past.

“He still resents me. He has forgotten to respect me and the education we granted him. My silence pushed him to those disgraceful people. He’s so smart and he’s wasting everything we taught him on the wrong sort. I have to be there with him and show him why we are superior. I have to show him how to get power the proper way”.

Narcissa agreed, though she knew Draco wasn’t opposing his father only as retaliation. It was a nice surprise for her Lucius was trying to be more present in his own way.

That summer, Lucius had spent great amounts of time introducing Draco to his allies. Important people in the Ministry, in society, even in St. Mungo’s. He showed how far they had gotten with their connections, their fortune and their families’ names. Of course, all of them were blood supremacists.

Draco had not been impressed. After the second meeting, he understood Lucius’ game and refused to continue. Lucius found ways to make him go with small punishments, like taking away his broomstick for a week or threatening to ground him. It worked most of the time.

Narcissa had suggested Lucius take Draco to activities he would enjoy, without insisting on his agenda.

Lucius didn’t take her advice as much as she would like, but he did go shopping with Draco, they went to the finest dining places in Diagon Alley, and Lucius took him to small gatherings with people their son actually liked, like the Notts, the Crabbes and the Goyles. Those times, Draco smiled more and complained less. Even Lucius was pleased with enjoying calm days with their son. Unfortunately, he always went back to his attempts of convincing Draco to behave and obey like a traditional pure-blood.

“Don’t push him too hard, dear. He will understand you with time,” Narcissa lied easily.

“I know. There’s always some people wanting to rebel and try improper things even in the best families. We will endure this phase until he grows up. I bet it takes him two years at most”.

“I’m sure you’re right. It would be reasonable to not force anything on him during this time. Let’s not give him reasons to rebel more”.

Lucius waved his empty glass and an elf appeared, filled it again and disappeared with a bow. Before drinking, he frowned at his left forearm and massaged it for a minute. Almost like a reflex, he patted his wand hidden in his robes. Calm returned to his face and he took a sip of wine.

“I will ask Draco to do only manageable things. Nothing definitive and nothing too demanding”.

“It will be the best course of action”.

“I agree. I better get ready to go. See you at dinner”.

Lucius walked away as refined as ever, but with a clear spring in his steps.

Narcissa hoped he used well the time she had given him. The chances to enjoy their peace was getting short. They had that last summer before the Dark Lord came back to his power. She wanted them to enjoy some time together before Lucius once again fell to his servitude and Draco was pushed away to protect him.

………

Harry woke up with his hand on his forehead, touching his throbbing scar. It hurt. Just like the times he faced Voldemort using Quirrel’s body. Only when the real Voldemort was close did it hurt so much.

Without his glasses, Harry squinted at his blurry dark room. Was there something out of place? Could Voldemort be looking through his window? No. It was impossible. He was safe.

Maybe it hurt because of his nightmare. Harry had dreamt something frightening, but it was difficult to remember the details. Something about an old house, an old man, Peter Pettigrew… and also a chilling voice and a snake. The voice had been the worst of all. A terrifying voice that plotted with Pettigrew, talked to the snake and ordered the death of the old muggle man.

What could it mean?

Harry shook off the remaining sleep and decided to ask Sirius.

He grabbed his glasses from his nightstand. After a second of hesitation, he grabbed his wand too. He opened the upper drawer and eyed his two way-mirror, but decided against picking it up. 

Harry put on his glasses and blinked, getting used to the clarity of a good sight. He could make out every object in his room, everything in the same place he left them. There was a pair of sneakers on top of his closed school trunk. A red jacket was forgotten on the wooden floor. His school books were disorganized in his small desk. Cramped with them there was also parchment, bottles of ink and one used quill. The dark green walls enhanced the gloomy air of his room. His big wardrobe, made of black wood, was closed. There were no signs of disturbance.

Harry sighed with relief. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Voldemort hadn’t somehow appeared in his room to attack him.

Before getting out of bed, Harry looked at the old clock in the wall. It was too early for breakfast. Sirius wouldn’t be awake yet.

Knowing he had time, Harry stretched and climbed out of bed slowly, enjoying the last seconds of contact with the unbelievably soft silky blankets. His new bed was big and so comfortable he didn’t want to get out of it. 

Eventually, he stood up and walked into his personal bathroom. Harry would never get used to it. His own bathroom! Only for him! It was perfectly adapted for his needs, full of products for his particular hair and for his skin. Harry didn’t know one person had to use so many products, but Sirius had insisted on purchasing everything for him.

Living with Sirius was like a dream come true.

After his third year at Hogwarts finished, Harry went back to the Dursleys. However, a day after he arrived and settled on his bedroom, Sirius went to visit him. He was using some kind of enchantment to change his appearance, because all the muggles knew him as a loose murderer in the news. 

Not even his enchantments could trick the Dursleys, though. Aunt Petunia had a supernatural sense to feel when something was not normal. She immediately knew Sirius was a wizard, and tried to close the door on his nose. Of course, it didn’t work.

Sirius talked his way in, only waving his wand threateningly once, and walked straight to Harry. He had been in the kitchen at the time. Shocked at the sudden visit, Harry had let the bowl he was holding fall into the floor. Sirius had hugged him, cleaned the floor with a lazy move of his wand and a whisper of a spell. Aunt Petunia didn’t dare to complain.

It was unreal, having Sirius in the house Harry hated so much. His godfather was a force to be reckoned with, and in a day he did so much that Harry thought he could produce a Patronus. 

Sirius asked about Harry’s living situation. His gaze grew colder when he saw his small room, the smallest of the house, full with Dudley’s old and broken toys. He stared at his clothes, which Harry rushed to explain Draco’s mother helped him get the new ones and the older ones were Dudley’s. Sirius glared at the tiny bed, at Hedwig’s closed cage, at the lack of pictures of him in the walls. Sirius had asked about his school stuff and discovered the cupboard. 

Sirius had yelled a lot.

He had waved Harry away and got into a row with Aunt Petunia, who was trembling through it all, but faced him coldly.

“How could you? To the son of your sister! Your own nephew!”

“Where were you, then? Where were your people when I needed help raising an abnormal child that exposed my vulnerable son to his abnormalities? Where was the money his father was supposed to have when we had to rearrange our whole lives to include a non-planned child?”

“That doesn’t justify you at all! You are a fucking bitch, a coward, you hurt a child!”

Sirius had stayed until uncle Vernon came back from work and had a row with him too. Harry was pretty sure magic was involved, because he heard shrieks of fear once. Dudley had come to his room and asked if his godfather was going to kill his parents. Harry had to reassure Dudley that nobody would die. It had been awkward, waiting for it to end, patting Dudley’s trembling shoulder.

Sirius had left in a huff, telling Harry he had warned them to treat him right.

Harry lived two weeks with the Dursleys. Two weeks with afraid Dursleys who wouldn’t meet his eyes. A terrified aunt Petunia who kept her eyes glued to the windows and doors. An angry but subdued uncle Vernon who muttered under his breath, but didn’t hit Harry and didn’t let him starve. A jumpy Dudley who tried to stay either in his closed room or in the house of one of his friends. 

Then, Sirius came back waving official-looking papers and took Harry to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” was the first thing Sirius said after apparating Harry out of Privet Drive. “Dumbledore was being his nutty self and tried to block my claim in the Ministry, but the Wizengamot was on my side, for once. They couldn’t deny James and Lily’s wills and they wouldn’t refuse a pure-blood. My house is ugly and old as shit, but I think I got the worst out of it. What do you think?”

Harry thought the house was magical. It was under a Fidelius Charm, because of Dumbledore’s insistence, and Sirius himself was the Secret Keeper. The house was big, submerged in shadows, some parts were decaying, and it was full of weird artifacts.

Harry thought it was way better than the well-kept house in Privet Drive, where everyone hated him.

Sirius gave him a big room to himself, and he took him shopping for everything he needed. Harry was free to decorate his bedroom however he liked, change whatever could be changed, and ask as many questions as he wanted.

The pantry was always full and open to Harry at any time of the day. Sirius didn’t cook very well, but he tried. With a book of recipes and Harry’s patient guidance, he turned out to be a decent cook after one week. Whenever he failed and burnt their meal, he took Harry out to eat in muggle London.

There was only one being displeased with Harry. He was an old house elf that Sirius despised, but couldn’t free because of security reasons. Kreacher loathed Sirius and muttered insults about Harry’s blood any time he saw him. He didn’t cook anything, and tried his best to be out of Harry and Sirius’ sight.

There were rooms Sirius told him not to enter because of spells or cursed objects, and there were creepy creatures lurking in a couple of rooms, but Harry loved living in Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was great and he loved telling stories about Harry’s parents. He had even met his grandparents, moved with them when he was sixteen. He told him how good the Potters were, how noble, and how they all would’ve loved Harry.

There were some times when Sirius fell silent. Some days, Sirius would stay in his room and wouldn’t go out at all. Some days, Harry heard him cry or yell or even break stuff.

He was getting better, slowly but surely.

Harry knew Sirius had appointments with healers to help with his recovery after Azkaban. Apparently, the Wizengamot had forced him to do it to grant him Harry’s custody. The effects of being exposed to Dementors were difficult to treat, but Sirius said the healers were helping him a lot. During the days he had to go to St. Mungo, Sirius let Harry decide if he wanted to stay in the house or visit Sirius’ cousin.

Tired of being left behind by the Dursleys, Harry always chose to visit Sirius’ family.

Andromeda Black was Sirius' first cousin. She was kicked out of the Black family because she married a muggle-born, Edward–Ted– Tonks. They had a daughter called Nymphadora, who made Harry promise to only call her Tonks.

Andromeda had been on really good terms with Sirius before he was sent back to Azkaban, and they had picked up their contact after his trial. 

The Tonks were nice, they liked Harry and they made him feel comfortable. Tonks was a little bit like Sirius, more energetic and a rebel, unlike her very demure mother. Tonks was like an older sister, while Andromeda and Ted were the kind but firm aunt and uncle.

Harry had heard about them before meeting them. Andromeda was the sister of Draco’s mother, and he remembered his friend telling him stories about them in school.

Andromeda had told Harry and a very surprised Sirius that Mrs. Malfoy had introduced them to Draco, visited them and allowed them to correspond. However, the sisters had a falling out over something Andromeda refused to elaborate.

Luck was against Harry, because Draco only wrote to the Tonks and he couldn’t visit them anymore. His tiny hope of a casual meeting in the Tonks’ house was destroyed.

Living with Sirius meant Harry could talk more with his friends. Sirius let him send as many letters as he wanted. He apparated Harry to the Burrow so he could spend time with Ron and the Weasleys. Sirius even joined them all in playing Quidditch and stayed for dinner. He offered to get Harry to visit Hermione, but she was busy travelling around the country with her parents.

Unfortunately, the security measures Dumbledore was forcing on Sirius were very demanding. Sirius couldn’t tell their location to anyone, which meant their floo wasn’t connected anywhere. Harry couldn’t have anyone over. At least he could do magic. Sirius told him the trace didn’t work on magical households, and he wasn’t keen on following rules. For the first time, Harry could actually practice the spells he didn’t get right the year before and he could try new ones.

Since he wasn’t allowed visits, Sirius bought a small cake for Harry’s birthday. He blew up the candles at midnight, Sirius clapped and cheered, and Harry wouldn’t trade that moment for nothing else. During the day, Sirius apparated with Harry to the Burrow again, where they celebrated and opened presents. Back to Grimmauld Place, Harry was so full he could barely walk, carrying various presents from all his friends and Sirius.

He was grateful to them all, and he cherished everything he got. However, only two presents were placed with his most prized possessions. One was Sirius’ present, which was some kind of scrapbook, filled with written memories, pictures and letters between Sirius, Remus and James. Harry read it all and touched the letters with longing. He placed it in the drawer he assigned to all the things related to his family: Hagrid’s picture album, Draco’s book with a chapter about the Potters, the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder’s Map.

The other present was Draco’s and it was sent with his owl Iris. It was a miniature stag made of crystal. It was charmed to move and rise into the air, just like his patronus. Harry was glad he opened that one alone, because he had blushed so much he had to wash his face twice before his face got back to normal. He placed the stag in his nightstand and looked at it every night.

Harry missed Draco. They still talked through the mirrors, but not as much as Harry wanted. Draco told him he was very busy. His mother was teaching him more spells and duelling, and his father was dragging him to boring meetings.

Fortunately, the chance to see him again was very close. The Quidditch World Cup was hosted in England. All his friends were going. The Weasleys got tickets thanks to Mr. Weasley’s friends in the Ministry. They even had one for Hermione. Sirius had gotten tickets too, for top box seats, just like the Weasleys. The Malfoys had a top box seat too.

After rambling about the teams and the quidditch players they would see, Draco agreed on meeting before the match with Harry, Ron and Hermione. He promised to spend time with them no matter what. 

The only bad thing about the Quidditch World Cup was Remus couldn’t go with them.

The former teacher had been released two weeks before Harry’s birthday. Tonks had informed them immediately, and Sirius went to meet him and brought him to Grimmauld Place. Remus had been living with them since then.

Azkaban had been really bad for his health. He was weak, he couldn’t lift anything heavier than a cup of tea, and he didn’t talk much.

Harry didn’t see him much the first two weeks, because Remus spent most of his time in his room, sleeping. Whenever he got out, it was slowly, leaning on the walls and dozing off mid conversation. Sirius had reassured Harry that he had taken Remus to St. Mungo’s and he was drinking a lot of potions to recover. Sirius had also bought him his dose of Wolfsbane. Remus had been so exhausted after his first transformation out of Azkaban, he couldn’t get up for a full week, and he missed Harry’s birthday.

He was slightly better, but it would be impossible for him to do the trip to the Quidditch World Cup. Sirius had offered to stay back with him, but Remus had refused and pushed Sirius to spend time with Harry. Harry felt a little guilty, until he spoke with him.

“Your heart is really noble, Harry. Just like James. The amount of times he offered to stay with me in the hospital wing instead of seeing a Quidditch match… I’ll tell you what I told him back then. It doesn’t make me happy when you stop living your life because of me. I’d rather you go, have fun, and tell me everything afterward. Could you do it for me?”

Harry agreed.

Remembering all of it calmed Harry. He lived with two awesome men he trusted. They would know what to do about his dream and his hurting scar. He would meet his friends soon and they would help too.

Harry got out of his room and walked downstairs. He found Kreacher lurking in front of the closed curtains that covered a painting of Sirius’ mother.

“Good morning,” Harry greeted him awkwardly.

“The half-blood is talking to Kreacher. He dares walk around the house like he belongs here. Dirtying everything with his filthy blood. Kreacher will pretend he is not there”.

Harry shrugged and walked to the kitchen. Kreacher’s hateful murmurs were nothing compared to the Dursleys.

He checked the pantry. He put water in a kettle to make some tea and cooked himself scrambled eggs. Harry was placing his food on the table when Sirius walked through the door. He did a double take.

“Harry! Why are you up so early?”

“A nightmare”.

Sirius frowned. He stepped closer and ruffled his hair. “Want to talk about it?”

“Yeah, actually”.

“Good. I’ll just take a cup of tea for Remus first. He woke up because of his joints aching. He needs something to pass the taste of the pain potion”.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. He’s such an old man,” Sirius laughed, but there was no real joy in his eyes. “Wait for me, okay?”

“Okay”.

Harry waited patiently, eating slowly. Once Sirius was back, he told him everything. From his scar hurting to his nightmare.

Sirius was frowning by the end of it. “Are you sure your scar only hurt when you were close to Voldemort?”

Harry nodded. 

Sirius clicked his tongue. “There could be many reasons for this. I’m not an expert on scars product of dark magic. I may have to ask Remus. Is it okay?”

“Of course”.

“If the worst comes to worst, we’ll have to inform Dumbledore. I’d rather not do that, though. That old man has been such a nuisance. I don’t want to talk to him for a long time”.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He knew Sirius still resented Dumbledore because he tried to block Sirius getting Harry’s custody. Harry was slightly resentful too.

“Well. What we know is Voldemort is definitely not here, not anywhere close to the house. Our wards are strong and only I can tell anyone where the house is. I’ll ask Remus and we’ll tell you our theories later, okay? Maybe after the Cup if we don’t find anything today. Remus could use the time to research while we’re away”.

“All right”.

“Don’t worry about it. You focus on choosing your outfit for the Cup. Remember we’re going early tomorrow. Choose something casual. Maybe green, to bring out your eyes. You want to impress my little cousin, right?”

Harry threw Sirius a dirty look.

“I don’t recommend you follow Witch Weekly’s advice, though”.

“I’m not– I don’t know what you are talking about,” Harry stuttered.

Sirius smirked. “I saw all those magazines you bought. Their tips don’t really work. Look, I’ll write some pick up lines you can try on our dear little Malfoy”.

“I have to do homework,” Harry lied. 

He scurried out of the room and tried to ignore Sirius' loud laughter. 

Sirius loved teasing him. Despite that, Harry knew his godfather had good intentions. He considered his words carefully. Would pick up lines work? 

………

It was finally, finally August 18th. The day of the Quidditch World Cup! Oh, it was such a beautiful day already. Draco could float all the way to the entrance. Instead, he skipped happily. Father was waiting downstairs. Boring as he was, he frowned at Draco’s display. Draco raised his nose and didn’t stop his happy little jumps until he reached Mother.

She was as lovely as always, smiling and waiting for him. She wore elegant muggle clothes in dark peach and white. Draco had chosen his best muggle clothes too in soft blues and grey. Comfortable, but stylish. Of course, the one to complain would be Father.

“You look too comfortable wearing those”.

Draco judged his boring black muggle suit with a raised eyebrow. Father ignored him and talked to Narcissa.

“The Ministry is forcing us to hide again because of the stupid muggles. It would be proper to show our discomfort”.

“That’s all right, dear. I’ll make sure to drop our true opinion to the right people. We are only complying because of the Statute of Secrecy”.

Her words seemed to calm Father down. Draco stared at them, curious. He was fourteen, and smarter than he was the year before. He had started noticing things, patterns in his parents' dynamics. He knew Mother was able to talk Father into anything she wanted, using just the right words and agreeing to do or believe in things she did not always follow. Draco knew she had taken him to muggle places and the Tonks’ house behind his father's back. It was clear she didn’t believe in the same stupid things Father did. She was just that good at playing him.

Technically, Draco could do the same. It was the subtle, easy way to get what he wanted. He didn’t want to, though. He didn’t care about upsetting Father’s sensibilities. Discovering his boggart the year before only strengthened Draco’s resolve to be whatever he wanted. If his biggest fear was disappointing his father, angering him and losing his love, it could get in his way. He had to get used to it. 

Father had been weirdly patient, though. Not raising his voice or his hand once, even if he kept pushing too much like he always did. 

Draco bit back a laugh. His father would be so mad once he learnt Draco’s plans for the day.

The three of them walked outside the manor, where the elves were waiting with their stuff to set up a small tent. They had booked the place close to the stadium just in case the match extended for days.

“We’re ready to go,” Father ordered.

Draco held Mother’s hand. The elves apparated them all.

The owner of the campsite was a muggle called Mr. Roberts. Draco stayed silent and bored while Father recoiled and refused to interact with the man. Thankfully, the elves had disappeared before they approached the muggle house of Mr. Roberts. Mother took charge of it and paid in muggle money, being careful not to touch him to not anger Father. She let the man keep the change, and they followed Father’s rushed walk to their campsite.

“Incultured, abnormal, dirty, ignorant,” Father muttered under his breath.

“I know, dear. They shouldn’t have let the muggle there. I heard they’re obliviating him any time he starts suspecting something. It must be tiring”.

Draco looked back and saw a tired wizard in awful muggle clothes watching at Mr. Robert’s house. When a family wearing robes knocked on his door, Mr. Roberts grew confused. He started asking questions, louder, until the wizard obliviated him.

“But if they obliviate him too much won’t it hurt him?” Draco asked.

Mother raised an eyebrow and Father turned an icy frown to him.

“I mean, it would be easier to confound him or trick him only once, and use that chance to send him away for a week. Why keep him here, if it’s bad for us and for the muggle?”

“You’re so smart,” Narcissa cooed and petted his hair.

Father’s glare softened, but his frown didn’t disappear. “It is true. The Ministry is full of stupid people. It’s better to keep muggles away from us, everyone knows it”.

“I didn’t mean–”.

“They are truly inefficient,” Mother cut him off.

Draco huffed. He didn’t like when she did that to not get on Father’s bad side.

They walked until they reached their place. It was too close to other tents for their liking, but they couldn’t do anything about it. It was obvious the Quidditch World Cup would be full.

Ignoring the Ministry warnings, Father set up the camp with magic. Their tent was beautiful and high in contrast to the other ones, as elegant as a tent could be.

They stepped inside carefully.

It was a great space. Not as big as the manor, of course. But it was definitely bigger than Aunt Andromeda’s house. Father called the elves and they appeared. Lawy and Jun were holding the peacocks, while Kari and Zalo held a big box of ingredients. Lucius waved his hand and the elves started to work. Lawy and Jun bowed and went to enhance the wards at the entrance of the tent, and to leave the peacocks there. Kari and Zalo prepared breakfast in less than ten minutes.

Once he finished eating, Draco asked to look around.

“Draco,” Father called him before letting him go. “Make sure to greet every important person you see. I introduced you to a lot of us. Make sure to leave a good impression”.

“I will,” Draco agreed. It wasn’t difficult.

“I know you will look for your friends. Even the unsuitable ones”.

“So what?” Draco snapped.

Mother looked at him, scolding his reaction, but Draco ignored her.

Father took a deep breath. “I know you are going to do it despite whatever I say. Just make sure to be here on time to walk with us to the stadium. We will have the French Head of International Relationships for lunch. You are free to join us”.

“I’d rather eat with any of my friends”.

Father looked disappointed, but he didn’t insist. He nodded and turned his back to him.

“Here. So you can have fun with your friends”. Mother gave him a small pouch full of galleons.

Draco thanked her and rushed outside.

Finally free!

He walked around, glancing curiously at a couple of extravagant tents. He knew Vince and Greg couldn’t afford the tickets. Theo’s father was the most boring man ever, so he didn’t buy them. Pansy could be there somewhere. Daphne and Blaise too. Draco looked around for them. He found Blaise in a mixed group with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They talked for a short time and Draco scurried away. After fifteen minutes, he finally found Pansy. She was walking around with Daphne and her little sister Astoria. It only took Draco a look to know Pansy wanted him to leave them alone. Like the good friend he was, he winked and walked away.

He had hoped to mix his group of friends, but he guessed the Gryffindors were fine.

After some time, Draco recognized three figures carrying buckets of water.

“Harry!” He called. “Hermione! Ron!” He waved enthusiastically until they turned around and saw him.

He noticed his friends had changed over summer. Ron was unfairly taller again. Hermione was smaller. Or maybe Draco grew up more. But Harry was the one who changed the most. The git was almost Draco’s height! Unbelievable. Draco eyed him warily. Was Harry an inch shorter? Maybe less? He now could look him in the eye without craning his neck at all. His glasses and his clothes were new too. He wore a green shirt and black jeans that fit him well. He was less thin than before. His vivid green eyes looked happier.

Draco smiled. It seemed like Sirius was doing his job in taking care of Harry. He couldn’t be happier for his friend.

Chapter Text

“Harry!”

Harry could recognize that voice anywhere. He turned around as fast as he could. There he was. Draco Malfoy walked confidently, the wind tousled his pretty hair just right, and he was showing his even prettier smile. Pictures and the surface of his two-way mirror didn’t do Draco justice. How could he grow more gorgeous in two months? It was so unfair.

Time seemed to slow down while Draco walked, and Harry appreciated each second gratefully.

“Harry, breathe,” Hermione whispered at his side.

Harry remembered he, indeed, needed to breathe. He inhaled a gulp of air and almost choked. Why was his body betraying him like that? He needed to look cool, not pathetic.

Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing smirks. 

At a closer distance, Harry realized he was almost as tall as Draco. Harry straightened his back. Nope, he wasn’t the exact same height, but the difference was smaller.

Draco was already talking. Harry tried to focus.

“–lots of free time before the match and I was wondering if I could stay with you,” Draco said.

Harry’s heart picked up the pace and his stomach jumped with glee. His voice refused to appear.

“Of course you can,” Ron agreed after a second of silence.

Harry thanked him silently. His brain was overwhelmed.

Ron and Hermione asked Draco about his summer. Harry would enjoy staying in silence, drinking in the sight of Draco all day, but he knew he had to engage in the conversation. Witch Weekly said communication was important. Draco was his friend, talking shouldn’t be difficult.

Right, it was the time to try to say something romantic and clever, like Sirius suggested.

“And you, Harry? You’ve been a bit quiet,” Draco said.

“I’m sorry”. Oh, Harry had the perfect one. “I just got lost in your–” But what could he say? “In your eyes” was too simple. Maybe something else like his smile? Or his hair? Everything in Draco was worthy of praise.

“My what?” Draco tilted his head to the side, just a little, eyes glinting, happy and unbothered with nerves like Harry. 

“Your stories. You were saying interesting stuff,” Harry mumbled, defeated.

“Oh, I know. I’m a great storyteller,” Draco gloated. “But didn’t I tell you all that before?

Hermione and Ron threw him twin pitying glances. 

Harry mumbled an excuse and Hermione saved him by asking Draco questions about the essays they had to write.

They approached their camping plot. Sirius had booked the one next to the Weasley’s.

Mr. Weasley was outside, trying to light a fire with matches. 

Draco greeted him politely and Mr. Weasley answered with a smile, but his eyes shot back to the matches every two seconds. Every time he managed to get fire, he let the match fall. With a huff, Hermione went to help him. She left Draco her buck of water, and he carried it with a pout.

“My whole family will be here, except mum,” Ron told Draco. “Even Bill and Charlie are apparating soon with Percy”.

“Oh! Your dragon tamer brother will be here?” Draco perked up. “Nice. I have so many questions”.

Harry remembered Draco had rambled about dragons for hours during those weeks they helped Hagrid with Norbert in first year. He was as enthusiastic with dragons as he was with Quidditch. Maybe more.

They stepped inside the magical tent. It was just a bit smaller than the one Sirius had bought.

His godfather was lounging on the Weasley’s couch, talking with the twins about their dream joke shop. He raised his gaze and he beamed at Harry. Then, he noticed Draco and his smile turned into an annoying smirk Harry unfortunately knew very well.

“My favourite cousin!” Sirius jumped out of the couch and hugged Draco.

“Isn’t this my ungrateful cousin? Your flattery doesn’t work, I know you’ve been telling Tonks she’s your favourite,” Draco grunted, fighting to get rid of Sirius.

“I only tell her that because Andy’s scary,” Sirius said happily. He took a step back and ruffled Draco’s hair. “You grew up a lot since I saw you!”

“I know. Not so much as Ron, though”. Draco tried to pat his hair in a semblance of order after Sirius’ hug.

Harry wished he could help him. Running his fingers through his silky hair was a dream of his.

“Dray-Dray! We were waiting for you!”

The twins approached with identical mischievous grins. Draco narrowed his eyes.

“Hi?”

“We’re taking bets on the match’s results! How much do you put on Ireland? Or Bulgaria?”

“I’m not betting”.

“Come on, it’s fun! Who are you supporting?”

“Bulgaria, but-”

“Then let’s bet! We say Ireland wins”.

It took some time to calm down the twins, who kept insisting on betting. Eventually Sirius saved Draco offering a high bet himself.

Hermione came back, declaring she had successfully helped Mr. Weasley. She sat with Ron, Harry and Draco. They quickly caught up about their summers, and then their talk turned to Quidditch. Ron was very passionate about Bulgaria’s Seeker, Viktor Krum. Draco completely agreed, and both of them were horrified that Harry and Hermione didn’t know him. They started sharing many of Krum’s great catches and they described his style of flying as something only a genius could achieve at his age.

The delicious smell of the eggs and sausages was filling the tent when Ron’s three older brothers arrived.

“We just appeared successfully, dad,” Percy announced in his loud and pompous voice. “Is lunch ready?”

“Not yet,” Mr. Weasley answered patiently.

“We’ll help,” Bill offered. “Oh, there’s more of Ron’s friends. Hello!”

Ron introduced Draco to Bill and Charlie.

Harry and Hermione had already met them the day before. Sirius and them had stayed over at the Burrow to take the portkey together with the Weasleys. They had gotten up before dawn, walked to the hills and taken one portkey with Cedric Diggory and his father Amos.

Draco seemed interested in Bill’s work as a cursebreaker, but even more on his clothes. The first time he saw him, Harry thought Sirius and Bill shared the same style. Bill was a really cool guy with his long hair, fang earring and dragon hide jacket and boots. In Grimmauld Place, Harry had seen lots of pictures of Sirius wearing leather jackets, boots and long hair like a rockstar. He even wore one new leather jacket that day. The difference was Sirius favoured muggle clothes, while Bill clearly had a thing for dragon hide.

Draco finished admiring Bill’s fang earring and started talking really fast to Charlie. He was shorter than Bill, Percy and Ron. His clothes weren’t carefully chosen to match as Bill’s. His face was cheerful and kind, but he wasn’t as cool as Bill was. However, Draco was looking at Charlie like he was Merlin reincarnated or something. Charlie showed him his burn scar on his arm and Draco let out a delighted shriek.

Harry huffed.

“If you want him to pay attention to you, you have to talk more. Don’t get all shy now,” Sirius mumbled to Harry.

He shook his godfather off and stepped to Draco’s side.

He was talking with Charlie about dragons, of course. Harry waited patiently to get Draco’s attention back. And waited. And waited.

There seemed to be no end to the dragons Draco wanted to ask about.

“Did you really tame a Chinese Fireball?”

“It’s not exactly taming them. We work together with them, work on winning their trust and respect, and we take care of them”.

“Did you work with a Chinese Fireball?”

“Yes, I did”. 

“Excellent. Tell me everything. Is it true that their flames are larger than any European dragon?”

Draco shot question after question, and Charlie answered cheerfully. He was totally invested in the conversation.

“You know a lot,” Charlie praised.

Draco’s cheeks turned a soft pink. “Thanks. I love dragons. I have read a lot since I was little”.

“It shows. I think you know more than the newcomers in the reserve”.

Draco’s blush deepened.

Harry realized he was scowling. He tried to relax his frown, but it was difficult when Draco was blushing and giggling with Charlie Weasley.

Harry saw his chance when Mr. Weasley announced lunch was ready.

“Lunch must be ready. We should go,” Harry chimed in.

Draco didn’t turn his eyes away from Charlie. “Just a moment. I want to know if you have ever seen an Antipodean Opaleye?”

Harry’s scowl returned with force. It was justified. Draco had been talking with Charlie longer than he had talked with Harry since they met. It wasn’t fair. Charlie didn’t know Draco, he didn’t care about Draco and yet he got his eyes on him and all his smiles that he didn’t appreciate like Harry did.

“The food will get cold,” Harry said over whatever Charlie was saying.

“You can go. I’ll catch up soon,” Draco said quickly.

Charlie, however, had finally stopped staring at Draco and instead turned to Harry. He noticed something, because his eyes widened with recognition and then he smirked. It was more like a good-natured smile, but for Harry it seemed like a smug smirk.

“It’s fine, Draco. We can talk later. Let’s go eat”.

“Can I write to you, then?”

Hell, no. Harry snatched Draco’s arm and tried to pull him to Mr. Weasley. “We should go,” he said between his teeth, doing his best to keep his voice in check.

“You can owl me. I’ll answer your questions,” Charlie laughed. He dared to wink at Harry and then finally went away with Bill and Percy.

“You’re acting really weird,” Draco complained. He dug his heels on the floor and stopped their advance. “Stop. I don’t like you dragging me around like this”.

Harry immediately dropped his arm.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, ashamed. What was he doing? He couldn’t stop Draco from talking with other people. He had been so happy and Harry had butted in, ruining his good mood. He wore a small pout, clearly dissatisfied his talk with Charlie had been cut short. Harry didn’t like making Draco lose his shine.

“Is something wrong?”

Harry refused to meet his eyes. Yeah. I want you to look at me and talk to me. I want you to be happier when you are with me. I want you to miss me like I’ve missed you. There was no way Harry could say all that.

“I’m okay”.

Draco scrutinized his face. Harry kept his eyes glued to the floor of the magical tent. It was an interesting floor. Or was it ground? Harry didn’t see when Draco moved, but suddenly there was a soft warmth just over his hand. It wasn’t a full grip. Draco was only touching the back of Harry’s hand carefully.

“You’re upset,” he said softly. “You can tell me why later, if you want. For now let’s go eat. Let’s go sit with Ron and Hermione”.

Draco always did things like that. He touched Harry like it was normal, like he wasn’t igniting fire in Harry’s chest and taking his breath away at the same time. He was used to touching his friends, like holding Pansy’s arm, shoving Ron playfully and getting hugs from Hermione. He was so generous giving affection to them, and he treated Harry like he was only one friend more. Draco didn’t notice it was different. He didn’t notice the effect he had on Harry.

Harry usually didn’t like being touched. He only liked it with the closest people to him, like Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Remus, though it still surprised him whenever one of them hugged him.

It was so different with Draco. Harry didn’t only like his touch. He loved it. He didn’t want to let go.

Harry turned his palm up and held Draco’s hand properly. He laced their fingers together, softly, not tightening his grip at all. If he wanted, Draco could easily get out. He watched Draco’s reaction. He didn’t look angry or disgusted. Faint pink was back on his cheeks.

“Let’s go”.

They walked to the table with the Weasley’s. It was a bit chaotic, because the twins wanted to eat quickly, and Mr. Weasley was trying to put some order with Percy’s help. Bill and Charlie only laughed at the twins’ antics, and took turns talking with Sirius, who was close to them.

“Where is Ginny?” Mr. Weasley asked loudly.

“She said she’d stay with Luna Lovegood,” Ron yelled back. “We found her on the way to the water fountain and she left us there”.

“She can’t be there all day,” Percy protested.

“The Lovegoods’ are fine. Don’t worry,” Bill chimed in. “I’ll go for her later”.

The Weasleys were too busy talking between themselves to notice them. Harry sat next to Ron, Draco immediately next to him, and Hermione sat on Draco’s other side. Ron and Hermione were making faces at him, but all his bad mood disappeared anyways. Harry felt relaxed there. Draco was at his side, he was surrounded by his friends. Sirius sat right in front of him, Charlie sat on the edge of the table, away from them. Everything was perfect.

During their meal, Ministry officers walked in front of the tent, sometimes stopping to talk with Mr. Weasley. Percy jumped out of his seat every time and bowed at everyone. The twins mocked him for it, but Percy only glared and continued doing it. The most notable people they met were Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Bartemius Crouch, Percy’s boss. Bagman was the one who helped Mr. Weasley get the tickets for the match. He didn’t care about the Statute of Secrecy in the camping site, and instead cared most about Quidditch. He had been a Quidditch player himself, a beater for the Wimbourne Wasps and the English National Quidditch team. He offered them to bet, but the twins had already bet all their money to Sirius. Shortly after Bagman accepted a cup of tea, Crouch walked in. He was the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Percy claimed the man was very respectable, and that he spoke more than 200 languages. Crouch and Bagman discussed how difficult it was to coordinate such a large event, then they mentioned the disappearance of Bagman’s worker Bertha Jorkins, and they left everyone curious after mentioning there would be another event soon.

After eating, Harry suggested they look around and his friends agreed. 

Anticipation grew every hour in the camping grounds. Shows of magic became more recurrent and way more noticeable. Soon the Ministry workers gave up trying to keep everyone in check. Lots of vendors appeared, yelling the very magical names of their products and their prices.

Ron bought a hat with moving clovers, a green rosette that yelled the last names of Ireland’s players, and a miniature figure of Viktor Krum. Draco got himself a red scarf for Bulgaria with a roaring lion, a red rosette and two Bulgarian flags.

“For you”. He gave Harry the flag. “Now you have to support Bulgaria with me”.

Draco smirked, and Harry nodded, ready to agree with everything he said.

“That’s unfair! Harry, you promised to support Ireland!”

To calm Ron down, Harry bought a green flag too.

They found omnioculars, magical objects shaped like binoculars, but they could slow down and replay the actions being watched. Ron lamented he had already spent all his money. “Give me four,” Harry asked the vendor. Ron tried to refuse, but Harry said jokingly it would be his Christmas present for the next ten years. Ron agreed to accept it. Draco accepted his omniocular easily, and Hermione too. She only bought information brochures. Draco bought a Bulgarian scarf for her and insisted until she wore it.

Ron protested that Draco was using his money to buy everyone’s support. Draco and Ron bickered about the best team for a long time, until Draco saw the sky and said he had to go.

“Can’t we walk together to the stadium? Our seats are close, right?” Harry asked hopefully.

“My parents want to walk together. I’ll see you all up there”. Draco waved his goodbyes and left.

Harry, Ron and Hermione wandered around a little more. They found Seamus and Dean again, then once again they met Wood. After Wood took ten minutes talking about the chances of Ireland winning, they walked back to the Weasley’s tent

All the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Sirius followed a magically illuminated path to the stadium. It was enormous, Harry had to crane his neck to see the top and even then it was almost impossible. Sirius was enjoying the festive atmosphere, talking animatedly with Harry about how much James enjoyed the World Quidditch Cups in their youth. Apparently, the Potters had gone to each and every one until the war made it impossible. Ginny appeared out of nowhere, having spent all afternoon with Luna, and she glued herself to Bill’s side.

Mr. Weasley led them all to their seats in the top box. At first, only a female house-elf called Winky sat there. The poor creature was scared of heights and covered her eyes, but refused to leave her job of guarding Mr. Crouch’s empty seat. Hermione tried talking to her and she admitted knowing Dobby, but she didn’t agree with Dobby enjoying freedom too much. It made Hermione frown.

Before Winky could elaborate, Ludo Bagman climbed to his seat in the front row, ready to commentate the match. Cornelius Fudge and the Bulgarian Minister of Magic appeared too. Percy bowed at all of them, and all of them showed interest in Harry. Luckily, he could hide behind Sirius, who shooed everyone off.

The Malfoys joined them in the top box too.

Mr. Malfoy was arrogant and hateful as always. He bit his tongue in front of the Minister, but he sneered at the Weasleys with all his might. Mrs. Malfoy was polite, but very distant. She didn’t sneer, but she didn’t indulge in small chat either. Draco greeted them again, loudly and cheerfully. Ginny answered immediately, being the one who didn’t get to talk to him before. Lucius Malfoy watched their interaction with horror and after a minute, he started whispering furiously until Draco rolled his eyes and turned away.

“His father is so horrible,” Ginny muttered, sitting down.

“He is. Draco is nothing like him,” Harry said.

Being right next to his parents, their similarities and differences were easy to find. Draco had his father’s grey eyes, his almost pointy nose and his white-blond hair. However, Draco’s hair was slightly wavy, clearly influenced by his mother’s. It almost reached his shoulders, and it reflected all the lights in the stadium. His face was also softer, lovelier, probably because of his mother’s delicate features and the lack of a sneer. 

Ron elbowed him to look away from the Malfoys.

“You’re being too obvious, mate”.

Harry elbowed him back and paid attention to the starting match.

………

It was time to see the creatures each team had brought as their mascots. Draco squinted.

“Ooh, Veela!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed somewhere in the rows behind him.

Father huffed and muttered an enchantment to block his ears. “Pat me on the arm when their poor performance is over,” he said to Mother.

She nodded and Father closed his eyes, his scowl showing how indignant he thought it was to make wizards like him suffer the effects of the veela.

“Do you want me to cast the spell, dear?” Mother offered.

Draco shook his head, leaning forward. “I want to see. I’ll try to occlude”.

She nodded and raised an eyebrow at the entering veela.

Nobody could deny their beauty. They were in their human form, all shining and too attractive to be normal. They were all blonds, probably part of the same community. Draco knew Veelas could look very different, depending on their places of origin and their ancestors.

He suspected Blaise’s mother was at least part veela.

The veela started dancing and Draco raised his occlumency walls. He noticed all around him men and some women were entranced, some of them acting weird under the veela’s magic. Draco didn’t feel his mind attacked.

Mother was watching the performance, looking bored.

Draco lowered his occlumency walls. Nothing happened. The Veelas didn’t have an effect on him. The realization was not as surprising as Draco expected. He had always assumed he would eventually marry a witch like his parents wanted, but no woman had ever attracted him.

Draco wondered if male veela could affect him. He remembered a few seconds of insanity when he thought Lockhart was handsome, and a few instances when Blaise was surely using his veela blood to make himself look better, and his maybe too deep admiration for Viktor Krum. For some reason, he also thought of green eyes and hands that felt just right on his. He shook his head. He liked guys, then. Only guys, like Pansy only liked girls. He had wondered if he maybe liked both, but it seemed like he didn’t.

Curious, he looked around. Mr. Weasley, Sirius, Bill, Percy, the twins, Ginny, Ron, and Harry were all entranced and acting weird. Draco raised an eyebrow at Sirius and Ginny. There, the proof people could like both men and women. His eyes found Charlie’s. The man smiled kindly and Draco looked away, right into Hermione’s gaze. She wasn’t entranced either. Her brown eyes’ widened, surprised. She glanced at Charlie, then at Ginny, then back at Draco and her confusion changed to understanding. For a second, Draco felt like panicking. Instead, he only raised a finger to his mouth and then turned away. He knew she wouldn’t betray him.

Father was still with his eyes closed and Mother looked like she could fall asleep. Neither of them noticed Draco’s small realization.

The veela stopped dancing and Draco composed his face. 

The Leprechauns were fun and eye-catching. Draco could freak out in the back of his mind during their performance.

The match started. It was so amazing it made him forget every worry he had. The Irish team was incredibly well-coordinated, the Chasers worked like they knew what each other was thinking. Their passes flowed easily, naturally, and their dives, turns and feints were clean. Because of them, Draco wondered if he should change his position in the Slytherin team.

Then, he saw Krum flying and his doubts disappeared. Krum was really a perfect Seeker. His flying style was so effortless, graceful and fast. He caught everyone’s attention even when he wasn’t the center of action. When he did the Wronski Feint, Draco cheered so loud Mother covered her ears. 

The result was unfortunate for Draco’s team, but it made sense. Ireland won because of their amazing Chasers, but Krum caught the Snitch. When the players walked close to them to receive the World Cup, Draco sighed dreamily.

………

Father led them out of the top box really fast. He wanted to avoid Draco talking to the Weasleys longer than necessary. Draco yelled his goodbyes at them to annoy him.

They found the Parkinsons on the way down. Father invited them to their tent and they agreed.

Draco used the time to gossip with Pansy, careful to stay out of the earshot of the adults. She told him everything she heard through the grapevine, and she complained about her parents with Draco. He complained too, and he confessed easily what he learnt after seeing the Veela. Pansy hugged him.

“I must say I suspected it. You were ogling at Lockhart in second year”.

“We don’t talk about stupid mistakes,” Draco muttered angrily.

Pansy laughed and promised to not tell anyone.

It was easy to relax with her. They were used to entertaining themselves while the adults discussed boring stuff. Draco noticed elves were being called to bring bottles of expensive alcohol. More people visited the tent. Old friends of Father that Draco didn’t know very well like Macnair and Avery. They were getting louder and louder, though Mother casted privacy spells. Even his prideful father was grinning like Draco never saw him do.

“They are inebriated!” Draco said bewildered. “So much for keeping up appearances! Look at them!”

Pansy was just as surprised as him. “Your mother doesn’t seem happy”.

“Of course not. She’s above Father’s stupidity,” he whispered happily. If Father fell or splinched, Draco would never let him forget it. He kind of deserved to embarrass himself. It would be so funny.

Their mothers whispered something, then turned to their husbands. Pansy’s mother approached them and told Pansy it was time to go. She would take Pansy to the Parkinson manor.

Pansy waved goodbye and her mother called an elf to apparate them both.

After they left, both Father and Mother approached, exchanging angry whispers.

“You stink,” Draco said loudly.

Father’s eyebrow twitched, but he remained composed. “Draco. Go to the forest until your mother looks for you”. 

Draco blinked. “This forest? Now? It’s cold and creepy”.

“Us adults want to have some fun,” Father said calmly. “You won’t like what you see if you stay here”.

“Gross”. Draco scrunched his nose and turned to Mother. “Can I go home, then? We can go together”.

“I want to have some fun too,” Mother said with a face so stony it was obvious she was lying. “I’d rather you go to the mansion, but–” she glared at Father– “Your father has other ideas”.

He put a firm hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco tried to shake him off, but Father didn’t let him. 

“Draco, you are a Malfoy. As much as you like to defy my orders, you will always be my son and a Malfoy”.

“I know”.

“Then you must know your actions have repercussions on me and your mother, on ourselves. And it’s the same for us. Our actions are always linked to yours. We are a family, and we will always be connected”.

“What are you trying to say?” Draco asked, exasperated.

Father exchanged a glance with Mother and then patted Draco’s shoulder. “I need you to stay in the forest tonight. You will be safe as long as you don’t step out of the forest. It’s crucial for our reputations and our family that people see you there”.

“Why?”

“It will make people believe something we want them to believe”.

“What? Stop talking in riddles and say it”.

Mother tapped Father’s arm and stepped forward.

“Your father’s friends want to have fun, Draco. To enhance our alliances, it is important that we indulge them. We both are going to stay with them. Please, stay in the forest, Draco”.

“I don’t understand–”.

“It’s your duty as our heir to do whatever will help your parents, Draco. Or do you want people badmouthing our names? You have a responsibility as the Malfoy heir”. Father lost his patience. He started pacing, fuming.

“But what does your fun have to do with me being there?” Draco asked.

“Reputation and credibility,” Mother said. “Believe me, Draco. It’s better if you don’t know the details. We will do some things— You don’t have to see. You don’t have to do anything. We love you and we want you safe. The forest is a safe choice”.

“But–”.

“It’s important we stay on the good side of important alliances,” she added. “And it’s important for your father that people see you stay”. Draco could say she wasn’t happy about it. She was clearly uncomfortable, but determined. “You will be safe. I swear it. We love you”.

She didn’t wait for his answer and called Lemer and Jun, her personal house elves.

“Take Draco to the forest. Stay with him and protect him. Keep yourself out of sight unless it is absolutely necessary for you to appear. We want other people to see Draco, but do not let anybody hurt him and do not let him approach the camping grounds. You will not take any order from Draco that contradicts mine. You will not talk until I call you back”. 

“Wait!”

There was a loud crack.

Draco wasn’t in their tent anymore. He was in the forest. The stadium was impossible to see. He looked around. There were only trees and bushes.

“Lemer? Jun?” He called.

The elves were nowhere in sight. Draco scowled and kicked a tree. It was totally out-of-character for mother to send him away and give him orders without explanation. What was she thinking? What were his parents doing?

Draco walked to the border of the forest and stayed there. He looked around once more. He tried taking a step out, but an invisible barrier made it impossible. He huffed.

“Lemer! Jun! I am your master too. Let me out”.

The elves didn’t answer. Draco groaned. Stupid loyalties. Lemer and Jun had been elves of the Blacks and Mother brought them with her when she married Father. They only answered to her. Neither Draco nor Father could order them to do something Mother didn’t want.

“I will die of boredom,” Draco claimed.

The elves didn’t answer. They weren’t easy to fool. Draco kicked a tree again and then took his wand out of his pocket. He conjured small birds to keep himself entertained.

A few minutes later, he heard people shrieking.

Draco raised his gaze and saw smoke covering the camping grounds. There was smoke and people running away from something.

“What’s happening?”

Draco tried to step out of the forest, but he couldn’t. The barrier the house elves raised held strong. Small groups of people ran into the forest, clearly afraid. Then, small groups turned into a crowd. Everyone looked desperate. 

“The poor muggles–” Draco heard a small girl saying in french.

“They must be English traditionalists. Don’t worry, they won’t hurt us,” her mother replied in french too. “I can’t apparate, but let’s walk deeper into the forest. We will be safe there”.

Draco tried listening to the other conversations, but most people only cried or hid quickly, not bothering to talk to him. He couldn’t step out of the forest to see. He could do nothing.

Draco paced and paced, growing desperate to learn what happened, until he saw Fred, George and Ginny in the forest.

“Weasleys!” He approached them quickly. There was no barrier to stop him.

“Draco!” Ginny greeted, waving.

Before he could get to them, Draco found himself with a wand to the face. He froze. Immediately, a magical shield appeared between him and the wand. House elve’s magic.

“Stop! Fred, what are you doing?” Ginny shrieked. George held her at his side, while Fred kept his wand pointing to Draco’s face.

“Sorry, Draco,” he winced. “It’s necessary. After we saw— I need to know– Did you know what was going to happen?”

“What?”

“Did you know? Did you help them? Are you with them?”

“With whom?” Draco shouted. Desperation and anger were creeping into his voice and his face. “I don’t know what happened. I was sent here before the smoke appeared and people started coming here!”

“He doesn’t know, Fred,” George said. “They sent him out to keep him safe”.

“Will you tell me what is happening?”

Fred lowered his wand. “Sorry again, Draco. We had to check”.

“Check what?”

The twins exchanged a look and started whispering, ignoring Draco. The protective shield disappeared.

“They didn’t tell him”.

“But are we sure they–?”

“I would bet fifty galleons his father is one of them”.

“But are we sure he didn’t know?”

“Stop!” Ginny yelled. “You are idiots. Of course nobody told him. Draco is not like his family, we all know that. They must know it too”.

The twins shrugged. Ginny huffed at her brothers and walked closer to Draco. Her face changed from anger to determination with a hint of pity.

Oh. Pity.

Draco felt dread. He knew that look. It didn’t precede good news.

“There is a group of Death Eaters in the camping grounds,” Ginny said. “All of them are masked and wearing black robes. There are not too many, but they are out of control. They’re burning tents left and right. They’re hexing anyone who tries to stop them”.

She hesitated and glanced at her brothers.

“They are doing bad things,” she said quietly.

“They are levitating muggles in the air. They are making the children fly in circles, they are hanging the woman upside down so they can laugh at her knickers. They are torturing them,” Fred added somberly. “Dad, Bill, Charlie and Sirius stayed to fight them. Everyone came here running away from them”.

"Your father’s friends want to have fun", Mother had said. Disapprovingly, but not too worried about it. Father and her had stayed with Father’s Death Eater friends. They were probably masked, torturing the muggles and laughing about it.

They had sent Draco to the forest…Why? He came up with an answer quickly. They made him stay because they could lie to the Aurors if they were interrogated afterwards. If they weren’t caught in the act, they could claim innocence. They would say Draco running to the forest was proof, because they wouldn’t put him in danger. They would claim their poor son was scared and ran away with all the victims. How could anyone accuse them of anything that could harm their only heir?

But Draco was not a victim. He was safe and protected by two loyal house elves, while his parents tortured innocent people and used him to keep their reputations clean.

Draco felt sick. He turned his back to the Weasleys and tried to hold himself together. He leaned his weight on the tree.

“Are you okay?” Ginny sounded worried.

Draco had always known Father believed muggles were inferiors. He had always known Father wouldn’t bat an eye to hurt someone he considered a lesser being. He had seen him hurting their house elves, hadn’t he? Why was he surprised? He didn’t have a right to feel bad.

Father had done something like that in second year. Getting inside of Hogwarts the diary that opened the Chamber of Secrets. Father had planned for a monster to attack innocent muggle-born students. Pansy had been possessed and Hermione had been petrified because of his stupid plans.

He had no reason to feel disappointed or sad. He already knew Father was like that. 

Draco felt like throwing up. He clenched his jaw and blinked back tears.

Ginny patted his back, and the twins said something he didn’t hear.

The Weasleys were fighting against the Death Eaters, of course. They had always supported the good side, unlike the Malfoys. But now it wasn't only his father, was it? Mother was there too. She was there too, hurting people to keep Father’s friends happy. She had talked with Hermione’s parents, she had smiled at them, she had bought Draco muggle clothes and muggle books, but when it was time to choose, she would follow Father. Their alliances were more important than anything else. 

Draco breathed. He straightened himself. Ginny and the twins were behind him, hesitant and pitying him.

“Where’s Harry?” Draco asked suddenly. “And Hermione? Ron?”

The twins exchanged a glance.

“We lost them in the crowd”.

Draco’s heart stopped. 

“But we’re sure they’re okay,” George added quickly. “Dad told all of us to come here. They must be somewhere close. You know them, they can keep themselves safe”.

Draco knew them. Trouble always found them. He patted his pockets. He didn’t have his mirror, but he had the pin Harry gave him. He took it out. The emerald was green. Harry wasn’t in danger. Or he had forgotten the pin. Knowing Harry, it could happen.

Draco wondered if he could send a patronus. He had never been able to cast a corporeal one before. But maybe this time he could.

He tried to choose a happy memory. He knew nothing about his family would make him feel joy in that moment. He tried to think about his friends, all of them okay and having fun. He opened his mouth, ready to say the words, but a light appeared on top of the trees.

It rose higher and higher, and it stopped in the middle of the sky. People in the forest shrieked.

The conjured light was the Dark Mark. The mark Death Eaters wore on their left arms, the mark that Father had. The twins got out their wands and looked around wildly.

“Ginny, Draco, stay close to us”.

Draco knew that mark meant someone died. Had Father’s friends killed someone? Or had Father done it? Draco wished he hadn’t. Maybe Mother stopped him from doing something like that. But they had still known and watched their allies torture the muggles. It didn’t change that they had crossed a line that night.

“Our actions are always linked to yours,” Father had said. “You have a responsibility as the Malfoy heir”.

It was right, in a twisted way. Not only did Draco have to show everyone he was different, he had to stop his parents. They loved him, didn’t they? They didn’t approve of his actions, yet they didn’t punish him harshly or forced him to act like them. Maybe they could change for him. He had to try. That was his responsibility.

Chapter Text

The platform was full, as it always was on September the First. Father wasn’t there. Draco had proclaimed loudly he would not tolerate his presence. Knowing not to push his buttons after the World Cup’s incident, Father had agreed to stay away. It wasn’t enough. Complying to his easier demands but not regretting what they did wasn’t enough.

“Remember we love you,” Mother said just before Draco boarded the train.

“Funny way you show it,” he retorted.

Mother’s smile dropped. She, who always wore the perfect mask to every occasion, showed a hint of her real feelings in a public place.

Immediately, Draco felt guilty. He didn’t want to hurt her. He was disappointed, and angry, but he would never want to hurt her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, softly, “I do love you too”.

She nodded, her face turning back to the expressionless mask Draco knew very well. 

“I understand you’re angry with our choices. I know it’s not ideal, but we have reasons”.

“Stupid reasons,” Draco muttered. He turned away from her. “I’m not coming back for Yule or Easter holidays”.

“I understand,” she said quietly. “If you change your mind–”.

“I’ll write”.

He hugged her quickly and boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

The last couple of weeks had been tense in the manor. Father hadn’t bothered lying or trying to soften his participation in the attacks during the Cup. He told Draco it had been only a bit of fun, a way to remember his good old times with his friends. “Good old times,” he had said, not caring that such times alluded to torturing muggles or worse. Mother had been right there, masked and cloaked like him, walking at his side. Pansy’s father and most of their important friends had participated too.

Draco was rightfully pissed. He had yelled at them how awful he thought they were, barely holding back angry tears. Father had dismissed him, telling him he could disagree as much as he wanted at home, but to never question them in public or in front of their allies.

“That’s the only thing you care about! Your stupid reputation and your stupid Death Eater friends!” Draco had shouted at the top of his lungs.

His father had clenched his jaw. “I do care about you, Draco. If you didn’t notice, I’m allowing you all the liberties you could want. I’m even ignoring your constant disrespect. As long as you fulfill your role as my heir in public, as long as you keep on the good side of the right sort, I’m letting you do everything you want. Whatever activities I choose to participate in, you should not let them upset you”.

“You hurt people!”

“I’m getting tired of you protecting lesser beings. Will you behave or do I have to ground you until school?”

“Ground me, then! I’ll stay in my room until September. It will be best if I don’t see your stupid face”.

Draco had stomped to his room. Mother had tried to soothe him, but he was angry at her too. She, just like Father, didn’t care about what they did. She told him it was how Father bonded with his allies, that she didn’t like it either. But she had allowed it. She was more worried about upsetting Draco than about what they did. It was like second year again, he thought bitterly. Just like when his friends didn’t care about people getting hurt, only caring if one of them was upset. Draco didn’t expect his family to protect muggles and muggle-borns, but he wanted them to at least not hurt them. It wasn’t much to ask.

Draco wasn’t alone once he stepped into the train. Like every year, Vince and Greg found him quickly and helped him with his trunk. Pansy and Theo joined them in their compartment shortly after. Draco relaxed into their easy company.

Pansy filled time with gossip, until Draco felt good enough to lead their talk to the Triwizard Tournament. Father and Mother had shared all the information they had with him, trying to ease him into talking with them. Draco hadn’t shown his interest with them, but he could let himself enjoy the news with his friends. 

Pansy and Theo knew too. The three of them did their best to explain the magnitude of the event to Vince and Greg. Then, they shared everything they knew about the past tournaments and theorized on what the tasks could be planned. 

Draco and Theo were in the middle of a discussion if Dementors counted as magical creatures that could be part of the tasks or not, when their compartment door opened.

It was Harry.

“Hi! Can I sit with you for a moment?” He barely glanced at everyone else and smiled only at Draco.

“Hello, Potter. Great to see you. We exist, you know?” Pansy said sarcastically.

Harry waved at everyone without paying much attention.

Draco felt slightly awkward.

He had been worried sick about Harry in the Cup. However, barely a minute after the dark mark appeared in the sky, Mother had apparated with an elf and took Draco away from the twins and Ginny.

He hadn’t been able to talk with Harry until hours later. He had used the mirrors, and Harry told him everything, from how the Ministry workers had attacked Harry, Ron and Hermione, how they believed they had invoked the Dark Mark, to Crouch’s house elf Winky stealing Harry’s wand. 

Harry reassured him he was fine, despite everything else. Mr. Weasley had found them and brought them to the Burrow with Sirius.

Once he was sure Harry was okay, Draco had ended their conversation.

Somehow, during their time at school Harry had turned into Draco’s guide of what was good and what was evil. It began in their first year, when Harry was right that You-Know-Who was evil and unfortunately alive. Until then, Father had said his Dark Lord was powerful and worthy of admiration, that it was only natural to follow him, but that he had unfortunately died. It had been the first time Draco realized Father was wrong.

Then second year came. Father had been behind the diary that opened the Chamber of Secrets, he hadn’t cared about muggle-borns being hurt, unlike Harry, who had defeated the basilisk and Riddle in the diary. 

Harry had always fought to protect. He always chose what was good. Unlike Draco’s family.

He was so embarrassed.

While Harry and his friends were wrongly accused in the Cup, Draco knew at least half the people under the cloaks. And yet, as much as he disapproved of what his parents did, he couldn’t help the twinge of worry about them. He didn’t want them to be sent to Azkaban.

Harry had asked vaguely if he knew something, and Draco had been so ashamed he couldn’t hide it, but couldn’t admit it either. Somehow, Harry understood without words, because he only nodded gravely and stopped asking.

Draco hadn’t talked much with him since then. Yet, there Harry was, happy to see Draco as if nothing had happened.

Harry had a silent scuffle with Pansy until he managed to push her aside and sit next to him. She didn’t surrender without a fight and elbowed Harry hard. Draco chuckled at their antics. 

“Do you know if something is supposed to happen in Hogwarts this year?” Harry turned to face Draco. Their knees were touching. “The Weasleys and Sirius dropped hints, but they didn’t tell us”.

“Don’t you want to enjoy the surprise?”

As he expected, Harry answered “I’d rather know”.

“It’s the Triwizard Tournament. There, you can go now,” Pansy muttered.

Draco glared at her rudeness. She pretended not to notice.

Harry didn’t seem annoyed. “What’s that tournament?”

With a sigh, Draco explained quickly. A very short summary of the history of the tournament, the schools involved and the tasks he had read about. Once he mentioned the risk and deaths in the past, Draco remembered who he was talking to. “We won’t be able to participate. It’s for seventeen-year-old-students or older,” he added hastily. 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t thinking about participating”.

“Sure, but all that risk might be tempting for your Gryffindor blood”.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“We think one task could involve Dementors. What do you think, Potter?” Greg asked cheerfully.

They chatted about the dangerous creatures or spells they thought could be used in the tasks. Vince and Greg didn’t mind involving Harry into their talk. They had warmed up to him after Draco’s many chats and their study sessions the previous year. Eventually Pansy gave up her attitude and participated too. Theo chose to hide behind a book. 

When they were close to Hogsmeade, Harry said his goodbyes and scurried away from their compartment.

Draco and his friends went back to their usual gossip during their ride on the horseless carriages. Once in the Great Hall, Daphne, Blaise, Millicent, Tracey and Fay joined them in the Slytherin table. Pansy quickly told everyone who didn’t know about the Tournament before Dumbledore’s speech. 

However, the headmaster’s first words weren't good news.

“There won’t be a Quidditch Cup this year,” Dumbledore declared.

People at the other tables cried out in despair. Draco almost joined them, but Pansy pinched his arm. It took a moment for it to make sense. Maybe because of the Tournament, Hogwarts didn’t have the capacity to continue with Quidditch. It was so unfair!

Draco glanced at the Gryffindor table and found Harry quickly. They exchanged mournful looks across the hall.

“Come on, Draco. I’m sure you can ask Snape to let you fly anytime you want,” Vince tried to cheer him up.

He perked up. “Maybe we can all fly together on the pitch! I’ll ask him”. 

Dumbledore called for attention and the chatter quieted down. Before he continued his speech, a terrifying man entered the hall. He made a grand entrance, banging the doors open, glaring menacingly with his magical eye and stepping loudly with his wooden leg. Many of the first years avoided looking at him.

“He’s the Auror Moody, isn’t he?” Theo leaned closer to Draco and whispered carefully. 

Draco nodded. Father and Mother had warned him about that man coming to Hogwarts. Alastor Moody knew which families had been associated with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He didn’t care about diplomacy or reputation. He treated everyone who sympathised with dark wizards as if they were criminals.

“Don’t provoke him,” had been Father’s words.

“Whatever he says about us, you will stay silent. If he does something to you, you can go to Snape. But try to avoid getting his attention as much as you can,” Mother had said.

The headmaster shook Moody’s hand and whispered to him. There was trust between them. Then, he announced the man would be their new Defense teacher. For once, his parents were right. Draco repeated their warnings to Theo, who nodded gravely.

“My father told me the same. After the incident during the Cup, he can be very unpleasant”.

Moody sat at the high table and Dumbledore continued talking. Finally, he mentioned the Triwizard Tournament. The Slytherins acted like it was old news for them. They smirked smugly at the confused students at other tables.

Draco enjoyed seeing the surprise on everyone’s faces. Especially the twins who were making a spectacle of it in the Gryffindor table. Everyone was excited for the arrival of international students, the dangerous tasks, the future champions and the prize money.

“Our champion must be a Slytherin. We are the only reasonable house,” one of the older students said.

“Who could it be, though?” Pansy whispered to Draco. “Do we have strong candidates?”

Draco eyed their table carefully. He knew the people in the Quidditch team and he wasn’t very fond of them. None of them were respectable or worthy of representing their house.

“Unfortunately, I think we don’t have many options,” Draco whispered back.

“Warrington and Montague look interested”.

Draco scoffed.

“Come on, Montague is not so bad,” Theo said. “At least he’s a Slytherin”.

“I’d rather have someone with a brain representing Hogwarts”. Draco raised an eyebrow at Theo. “Even if he or she’s from another house. Don’t you agree?”

“Fine,” he grunted. “But who?”

Daphne, who was close enough to listen in, enumerated all the remarkable students she knew in other houses. A couple of them were pure-bloods, but most of them weren’t. Draco knew the names and the faces she mentioned, but he wasn’t partial to any of them. The one he knew better was Diggory, and only because he was the Hufflepuff Seeker.

The talk about the possible champions of Hogwarts extended throughout dinner. Everyone chose someone and defended their participation with feats like being Prefects, Head Boys or Head Girls, and being good Quidditch players. It continued until all of them settled in their dorm rooms.

Once their chat died down, Draco fell into his sheets with a relaxed sight. He was surrounded by people he trusted, people he liked and liked him back. While most of their parents were similar to his own, Draco knew his friends were slowly changing. It showed when they didn’t immediately refuse any candidate because of their blood status. 

………

The tournament and the magical schools overseas were the favourite topics in Gryffindor tower. The twins were loudly planning ways to cheat around the age restriction. They were determined to participate and win the one thousand galleon prize to start their joke business. Hermione and surprisingly Neville knew a lot about those other schools. Harry hadn’t really thought about magical education in other countries before. He was really curious and waited impatiently for October, when everything would start.

The lessons were more difficult than before. Teachers kept giving them talks about how their O.W.L.S. were closer, even if the exams were in fifth year. There was more homework, more theory to read and more spells to practice. Unfortunately, Gryffindor shared only a few lessons with Slytherin.

“Cheer up, mate. We have Care with the Slytherins next. You will see Draco”. Ron elbowed Harry cheerfully.

Harry glanced around. They were walking to Hagrid’s hut, where the man would teach the lesson. There was nobody close enough to listen.

“Stop being so loud”.

“You should talk to him”. Hermione was holding her Monster Book of Monsters open, but her eyes were studying him carefully. “I don’t think he would hate you or stop being your friend if you tell him you like him”.

“No. I won’t risk it. I’m doing this right”. Harry was determined on that point.

She nodded wisely. “You should at least tell him you like men. Once you tell him that, he will recognize dating you as a possibility in his subconscious mind”.

“Hermione is right,” Ron chimed in. “As much as Draco can be perceptive for other stuff, he is blind about feelings. You have been pretty obvious and he doesn’t suspect a thing. Maybe he thinks you’re straight”.

Harry thought about it during their walk.

Sirius's advice had been to not be shy, to show his interest, and to talk more with Draco showing his funny and smart side. He had tried, but Draco hadn’t noticed any of his efforts. 

Maybe Ron and Hermione were right.

They mingled with the group of students close to Hagrid’s hut. Draco was there with his Slytherin friends. Hagrid called for their attention and told them all to follow him. He led them to a clearing close to the forest. He told them to wait and then went into the forest to bring whatever creature they would be studying.

“I hope we’re not studying his dear spiders”. Draco approached Harry’s group with his friends in tow.

Ron paled and stared at the forest apprehensively. “Do you think he would–?”

“Hagrid wouldn’t do that,” Harry said loyally. However, he wasn’t sure.

Hermione turned the pages of her book quickly. “Those spiders were Acromantula, right? There’s nothing about them in the book. He wouldn’t teach something that’s not in the book”.

“So it’s true there are Acromantula in the forest. Terrifying and disgusting things,” Parkinson shivered at Draco’s side.

“I want to see one”. Crabbe stood on the tips of his toes and squinted.

“I wish we could study dragons,” Draco sighed dreamily.

“Even if we could, it would be in our last year, not now,” Hermione said.

“Boring”.

“Hagrid’s back with something. It doesn’t seem like spiders, though,” Crabbe told them.

In a few seconds, Hagrid reappeared. He walked with a small group of strange creatures, half-horse half-birds. All of them wore collars linked to iron chains. Hagrid held all the chains in one hand.

“Hippogriffs! Aren’t they beautiful?” Hagrid said happily.

Harry could see why he would call them beautiful. While they were big and just a bit frightening, their haircoat and feathers had a healthy shine and the change was eye-catching.

“Aaaw they are so majestic!” Daphne exclaimed. Lavender and Parvati joined her cooing.

The Hippogriffs seemed proud of the attention they were getting. They puffed their chests and raised their beaks.

“They are not dragons, but they are cool,” Draco mumbled.

Hagrid introduced the hippogriffs by their names to the class. He told them they were proud creatures and that nobody should ever disrespect them or they would get aggressive. He freed one of them, Buckbeak, and called for volunteers to show how to greet them. Everybody stepped back. 

Harry stood in his place, unwilling to disappoint Hagrid.

“Great! Harry, get closer”.

Harry followed the instructions carefully. He walked slowly, he bowed and he held Buckbeak’s gaze without blinking. It took some time, but Buckbeak bowed back. Everyone clapped. Before Harry could recover from the tension, Hagrid suggested he petted the hippogriff. Harry did so. The feathers in Buckbeak’s head were soft. He closed his eyes and accepted the pet. Everyone clapped again.

Harry was ready to step back, but Hagrid suggested he could ride Buckbeak. He hesitated. The hippogriff was nice, but riding it didn’t seem very safe. Everyone was looking at him. Even Draco. What if he fell and embarrassed himself? However, a tiny voice in the back of his mind told him it would look really cool to ride a hippogriff. It wasn’t a dragon, but it could be impressive. 

Thinking of a bright smile and admiring grey eyes, Harry said “I’ll do it”.

He approached Buckbeak and patted his neck. He glanced at the crowd. Draco was on the front, his eyes glued on him. Harry forced a confident smile and climbed on the hippogriff's back. Hagrid gave him a signal, large wings unfolded, the hippogriff trotted and rose above everyone’s heads.

Once in the air, it was difficult to think about anything besides not falling. Harry had to be careful to not remove a feather or upset the creature in some way. The flight wasn’t as stable as a broomstick. He couldn’t control the direction or the speed. However, Harry had always loved flying, and while it was different, it wasn’t awful. Buckbeak flew a couple of rounds around the clearing, and then lowered, aiming at Hagrid.

Harry did his best to not fall during the landing, hugging the hippogriff’s neck tightly. When he felt Buckbeak was on the ground, he climbed down with shaky legs. Everyone cheered.

Harry straightened his back and walked to his friends, trying the charming smile Sirius had made him practice on the mirror.

Draco stood with Ron and Hermione with his arms crossed and frowning.

“Must you always put yourself in danger?” Draco complained.

Harry felt his smile fading.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” Ron chimed in. At the same time, Hermione said “I think it was really brave. Everyone thinks so. Don’t you, Ron?”

“Of course. Harry is really brave”.

In the background, Hagrid told them all they could separate in groups to try bowing and petting the hippogriffs.

Draco scoffed at them. “Of course Gryffindors think you were brave”.

“So I wasn’t?” Harry said.

“I didn’t say that”. Draco finally focused on him. Harry was sure his disappointment was very obvious on his face. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Draco said quickly. “I only meant– I just– I’d rather you not do dangerous things”.

“It wasn’t that dangerous. Hagrid was here”.

“Anyone else could’ve done it”.

“Everyone else was scared. Even you”.

Draco made an affronted noise. “I wasn’t scared”.

“Right. But you didn’t volunteer. I did”.

“Fine”. Draco raised his arms to the sky in exasperation. “You were so very brave, oh great Harry Potter. Forgive us simple mortals for worrying over you”.

Oh. So he was complaining because he had been worried. Harry felt his smile widening. “Thanks, but you didn’t need to. I had it under control”.

“Of course perfect Harry Potter could tame the hippogriff”.

“Do you think I’m perfect?”

For once, Draco opened his mouth, but no words came out. Harry waited, willing his face to not warm up. Before either of them could say anything else, Hagrid told everyone loudly to stop talking and choose a hippogriff.

“Draco, let’s go”. Pansy appeared at his side. She pulled his arm and led him to the Slytherins.

As soon as he was out of earshots, Ron and Hermione started giggling.

“Shut up,” Harry said, but he was smiling. 

………

Draco liked the hippogriffs. They could be dangerous, but once they accepted the greeting, it was only common sense to not upset them. Draco had to elbow Pansy lots of times to get her to control her mouth, but by the end of the lesson everyone in the group had managed to get the hippogriff’s trust and pet it. Even grumpy Theo had been successful. Of course none of them had attempted to ride it, they weren’t stupid like Harry. 

The other lessons were getting slightly more challenging, but Draco didn’t have any issue getting the spells right. While Mother hadn’t been as tyrannical as the previous summer, she had made him practice spells from fourth and even fifth year. He was especially confident in DADA, because she had focused her lessons in curses, counter-courses and protective spells. The new teacher could be an issue, though.

Rumours had expanded that Alastor Moody didn’t hold back from proclaiming loudly stuff some families would rather keep a secret.

“I heard that he called the father of Jeremy Hightower a coward Death Eater in front of the classroom,” Daphne whispered to Draco and Pansy. “He’s in sixth year in Ravenclaw. There was no proof against his father, but Moody said he could smell the rotten. He asked Jeremy about dark curses, telling him his father liked to use those”.

“He has no manners,” Pansy protested. She shifted uncomfortably. “Do you think he will do the same to us?”

“It’s almost sure,” Draco sighed. 

The situation was so tense a Prefect talked to their year.

“There are a lot of you that he will hate by your names alone. Do not give him reasons to take points or worse, give you detention. Chin up and remain quiet. Do not lower yourselves to his level”. 

It was true that in their year there were more children of former Death Eaters. If one person could bring out Moody’s bad mood, five of them would get much more attention. Draco made a quick plan with all the Slytherins in his year.

Luckily, they had Defense with Hufflepuff. Draco had met many times with Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan and the Smiths thanks to his mother. He sweet talked them into helping to avoid an uncomfortable situation for everyone. With Daphne’s help, he convinced them to hide those who could get Moody’s attention.

Draco sent Vince and Greg to the back of the class. Muggle-borns Justin Finch-Fletchley and Lily Moon sat in front of them, doing their best to cover them. Pansy sat at the back too, with the shy Hannah Abbott at her side. Theo was a bit more difficult to place, but Draco sent him to the seat closest to the wall, and Macmillan sat next to him. Draco himself sat at the front next to Susan Bones.

The other Slytherins mingled with the Hufflepuffs the best they could.

When Moody walked into the classroom, he didn’t show surprise. His face was as unpleasant and fierce as always. However, his magical eye was looking around wildly.

From the corner of his eye, Draco saw when the magical eye stopped on him for almost ten seconds, before turning away. He was definitely paying more attention to him and his friends.

Moody started with a roll call, the eye stopping on every face when he mentioned the name. He quickly introduced himself as a former Auror, friend of the headmaster. Then, he started the lesson on unforgivable curses.

Draco expected the prejudice and the direct offense, and yet it was difficult to remain unfazed.

“Ah, the Imperius Curse. I’m pretty sure half of you are familiar with that one. Mr. Malfoy, why don’t you enlighten us? I’m sure your father must have told you all about it”.

Draco kept his face impassive, but he felt his cheeks warm. He couldn’t control his angry blush. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir”.

“Your father, boy. He claimed to fall victim to the Imperius when he was accused of being a Death Eater. Poor, poor Lucius. I’m sure he studied the effects a lot to back up his story. Talk”.

“Imperius is the curse to control people, right? I read the effects on an advanced book,” Daphne said loudly.

Moody glared at her with his normal eye. The magical one was still glued on Draco.

“You’re Miss Greengrass, right?”

“Yes, sir”. 

“I was asking Mr. Malfoy. Do not speak out of turn”.

“I’m sorry, sir”.

Draco gave her a thankful smile that she returned.

Moody explained more about the curse, how it worked on all living beings. He used it on a spider, which he made dance and jump into their desks. The man asked Theo about the Cruciatus curse, of course mentioning his own father. Theo said he didn’t know and refused to answer Moody's taunts. The teacher looked very angry. Luckily, that time Susan Bones offered the answer. For the last curse, Moody asked Pansy and then Vince. Neither of them answered and Macmillan explained the curse. 

Seeing the spiders suffer from control, torture and killing was shocking. Moody said it only worked with intention, that only people determined to do it could cast the curses. He did it without hesitation, claiming it was to prepare them. Susan Bones cried after the last curse killed the spider and she left the class in a hurry when Moody told them to go. Draco couldn’t picture himself using one of those curses, especially the Cruciatus or the Avada Kedavra. 

Unfortunately, Alastor Moody was popular with the Gryffindors. Draco and Ron had a quick argument about it, which settled only when Harry chose Draco’s side and Hermione admitted the man was surely biased.

“He shouldn’t have treated you like that,” Harry complained.

Hermione nodded and patted Draco’s shoulder. “He was unprofessional. He made Neville upset in our class”.

“Susan Bones was upset in ours,” Draco added. He leaned in Hermione’s comforting touch and, being the mature one, stuck out his tongue at Ron.

“Well, even my dad says the man is crazy,” Ron admitted with defeat.

Draco showed him a smug grin.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Hermione continued patting Draco. He narrowed his eyes. It looked like she was trying to butter him up for something. “About house elves”.

“Hermione!” Harry hissed. “I told you to leave him alone!”

“Not again, Hermione,” Ron sighed. “I told you already. They like it!”

Ignoring their protests, Hermione quickly informed Draco she had learnt house elves were enslaved and she was trying to research how it happened and why nobody did anything about it. 

Harry not being on the same page made him hesitate about what to believe. It took Draco only a minute of processing to decide Hermione was right. He started to feel shame again. He had been blind about the house elves, when his father mistreated them in his own house, the same way he had been blind about everything wrong in his upbringing.

However, his shame was reduced once he realized even Ron hadn’t seen the issue before Hermione told him, and he kept disagreeing. For once, he was on the right side before a Weasley.

“I think you are right,” Draco said eagerly. His smugness reappeared when Ron’s face turned baffled and even Harry was surprised.

“It’s certainly different in other countries. When I was in France I noticed they don’t really own house elves like we do”.

“Really?” Hermione brightened up. “They work under fair conditions, they receive money, they have sick leaves and retirement pay?”

Draco tried to remember the time he spent with the French Malfoys. “Not exactly. I mean, the house elves I met hated money or gold as payment. They are not enslaved in France, though. They choose where to work freely, they don’t have to obey everything, and they don’t have the clothes restriction or punishments. If one house elf chooses to live with a magical family it is considered an honour. The family must provide the elf with magic, a place to rest, food and many other things in exchange for their help”.

“But if they’re not getting paid it’s still not okay,” Hermione protested.

“I’m not an expert, but I think it’s different,” Draco said. He remembered the child stories his parents read him, about wizards and witches making deals with other magical creatures. He remembered old traditions and the books he had read. There was no big explanation about house-elves, but there were hints.

“For example, goblins are okay handling money and they do business with our kind, but merpeople or giants would never accept a galleon. They use other methods to exchange goods. Centaurs accept gold to some degree, but it’s out of necessity, because they’re few and they’re forced to make deals with us. Maybe house elves don’t like the concept of money either. I know their magic pushes them to places that accumulate magic to take care of the people living there, and ancient sentient houses are especially attractive for them. I think someone decided to abuse the nature of their magic to enslave them, but I don’t know how”.

Hermione pondered his words. “You may be right. Do you know where to research this?”

“I’m pretty sure the books I have at the manor do not expand on house elves' history. Maybe Blaise or Daphne know more. He’s traveled a lot with his mother, and Daphne has all kinds of rare books about history”.

“I’ll ask them,” Hermione seemed very driven. Draco praised her determination and offered to ask the French Malfoys for more information. She hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, Draco. You have helped me more than these two in days”.

“Hey,” Ron protested weakly.

“You can count on me if you need anything”.

Hermione took one step away from the hug, but kept her arms on Draco’s shoulders, beaming.

“Oh, I was thinking about forming an organization to fight for their rights”.

“It’s a great idea. But let’s research first, okay? And it would be good to talk to some of them to learn what they need and what they want right now before taking any measure”.

“Of course. Research first”.

“Don’t you think you have hugged him long enough?” Harry interrupted.

Hermione immediately took her hands off his shoulders.

Draco rolled his eyes at him. What was his problem? 

“I’ll ask Daphne about the books. Ron, would you come with me?” Hermione asked quickly.

Ron agreed and they walked away like they were escaping something. Weird.

Harry watched his friends go. He glanced at Draco with a sheepish smile.

“Hagrid wrote to me saying we could go to visit him any afternoon. Maybe we can see the hippogriffs again. Do you want to go with me today?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah”.

Draco scrutinized Harry’s hopeful face. They had time before dinner. And Draco liked the hippogriffs. And he also liked spending time with Harry when he wasn’t behaving strangely.

“Sure. Let’s go”.

………

Despite not having Quidditch, Draco found the way to fly in the castle. He convinced his friends to ask Professor Snape to sign them a pass. The man had refused at first, but Draco, Pansy and Theo wore him out. Brooms were sent from their homes and soon they were ready to fly anytime before the sunset. Draco had not gotten to fly with all his childhood friends in Hogwarts since first year.

It was different from flying with the Quidditch team. It was infinitely better. He had fun racing with Pansy, shoving Theo playfully and confusing Vince and Greg with his feints and sharp turns. They were allowed to fly only on the pitch, but they escaped and flew over the grounds.

Draco convinced Harry and Ron to ask McGongall for a pass. The woman was easier to convince, ready to grant the Gryffindors the opportunity to practice. All the Weasleys followed their example.

With Harry’s help, Draco managed to merge the two groups one day. The twins somehow acquired a Quaffle, they got school brooms for Ron and Ginny, and dared the Slytherins to a match with only Chasers and a Keeper. Draco convinced his friends to agree. Luckily their numbers were even, because Hermione, Blaise and Daphne didn’t want to play. They cheered from the stands with Luna Lovegood, who joined them to cheer for Ginny.

It was a very tight match. Harry hadn’t gotten any better at playing Chaser since that one time Draco played with him in the Burrow. Instead, he had gotten a lot worse. Harry seemed to be afraid of pushing Draco too hard, and he wouldn’t try to take the Quaffle from him. It took Draco elbowing him hard every time they passed each other for Harry to snap back and play like he meant it. 

The twins and Ginny were very good, and Ron was a decent Keeper. On his team, Vince was chosen as their keeper. He was as good as Ron. Pansy was vicious and she wasn’t afraid of getting on scuffles with Ginny or the twins. Greg was a bit slow on passes, but his size alone helped him to block the path of whoever had the Quaffle. Theo wasn’t fond of fighting for the ball, but he was fast, he had great aim and he knew to pass to either Pansy or Draco. 

They were very competitive, but no dangerous fouls were committed. Draco played his barely-legal tricks, elbowed the twins whenever he could and almost made Ginny fall off her broom. In his defense, they were very close to the ground. Ginny, being the fiery player he remembered, pushed him back so hard he fell. He wasn’t hurt, so he jumped back on his Nimbus and flew right to the Quaffle, grinning like a maniac.

The teams were too closely matched, and in the end they were forced to finish their match tied, because the sun was setting and McGonagall would take points if they were flying at night time. Everyone had fun and agreed they had to play another time.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t find the time before Beauxbatons and Durmstrang’s delegations arrived.

Professor Snape chose a couple of students from each year and gave them a stern talking about showing example and influencing their peers into their best behaviour. From the fifth year up the chosen students were the prefects. Draco was pleasantly surprised Daphne and him were chosen for their year. Did it mean they would be prefects? He puffed his chest and smirked smugly until Professor Snape took him to the side.

“Mr. Malfoy, I trust you to lead your peers to the right behaviour. Make sure to stay on the good side of the international students and use this chance to show everyone the importance of making the right connections”.

Draco sighed, a bit bored. It was just like his father’s words all over again.

“I’m sure you will find perfect examples of successful students who rose from not so favourable backgrounds”.

Draco blinked. Professor Snape wanted him to mingle with people who weren’t rich or pure-blood? He already did that in Hogwarts. Maybe he meant to push his friends to expand their circle. It would be good for him and his plans of changing their very narrow and traditional minds. They were already changing, but it would be a good push in the right direction.

Buxbeautons’ headmistress and students arrived in a gigantic carriage with enormous winged horses. The headmistress definitely had some non-human blood or she was cursed, because she was as tall as Hagrid, maybe more. Their uniform robes were beautiful, unlike Hogwarts boring ones. Blaise grew fussy when one particular Beauxbatons girl walked close by. When Pansy followed her with glazed eyes, Draco realized she might be part veela. 

However, Durmstrang quickly erased Bexbauton’s out of Draco’s mind once he saw who one of the students was. He clung to Greg’s arm, trying to climb over him to see better.

“It’s Viktor Krum! Krum!” He hissed to Theo and then to Pansy.

Suddenly, the tournament had become a thousand times more interesting.

Chapter Text

Everyone in Gryffindor was talking about the new people in the hall. Some of them were ogling at the Beauxbaton’s students sitting at the Ravenclaw table, complimenting their elegance and beauty. Others were giggling and whispering, staring at Viktor Krum and the other Durmstrang’s students who sat at the Slytherin table.

Hermione wasn’t amused, instead scoffing at what she called a childish display of their peers. She repeated it every time Ron let out an over the top squeal when Krum breathed. He was fanboying as much as the girls that wanted Krum to autograph their hats with their lipstick. Harry felt in a comfortable middle-ground. He was more curious than Hermione, but not as much as Ron. 

“He’s only a Quidditch player”. Hermione’s voice was dripping with disdain. “Stop staring at him”.

Ron patted his pockets. His eyes never left Krum. “Hermione, you don’t understand. He’s the best Seeker in the world. Bloody hell. I don’t have any quills. Harry, do you have one?”

“Nope. I left everything in my bag”.

“I wish we could talk–Look! Draco’s talking to Krum! Lucky git. I don’t know what he is saying, but it's working! Krum’s answering him back! Do you think he’ll get an autograph? Maybe he can introduce us later”.

Harry could understand his friend’s excitement to a certain point. After watching Krum fly in the Quidditch World Cup, his respect for the Seeker had increased exponentially. However, as much as Krum was worthy of admiration, a small part of Harry wasn’t happy.

Across the hall, Draco was leaning closer to Krum, engaged in a conversation with the Quidditch star. He looked prim, proper and as captivating as always. The only thing that betrayed his excitement were his flushed cheeks and his bigger-than-ever grin, which only made him more beautiful in Harry’s eyes.

Why did Krum have to sit so close to him? Harry could already tell Draco was going to be starstruck, way worse than he was with Charlie Weasley.

Krum turned away to talk to another student. As soon as he wasn’t looking, Draco mouthed something at Crabbe and Goyle, gesturing wildly. He turned to Parkinson and Nott, repeating the excited motions. Finally, he raised his eyes and found Harry.

Draco was clearly overjoyed. He made faces, signaling to Krum and cheering silently. Ron tried to mime something, probably trying to telepathically ask for an autograph.

Harry snorted. It was a bit funny that well-mannered and aristocratic Draco was behaving like Ron. Krum turned to face Draco again. Immediately, Draco plastered a polite smile on his face and toned down his extravagant gestures.

“I think he will manage to get us autographs,” Ron told Harry dreamily.

How had he communicated that across the hall, it was a mystery.

Harry eyed Krum. The man had never worn a friendly face during the Quidditch cup, and it was the same in Hogwarts. He seemed a bit distant, polite but not overly interested in whatever Draco was saying. Instantly, Harry decided he was rude and egocentric. He was such a boring, stuck-up star that couldn’t properly smile back at a nice fan like Draco.

“Harry, stop glaring at the poor guy”. Hermione rolled her eyes at him. 

“You can’t glare at Krum, Harry!” Ron protested breathlessly.

Before Harry could retort back, Dumbledore stood up and the Great Hall fell silent. He introduced Beauxbaton's headmistress, a really tall woman called Olympe Maxime, and Durmstrang’s headmaster, Igor Karkaroff. He also introduced Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Both men had participated in the organization of the Triwizard Tournament and they would be part of the judging panel along with the headteachers. Dumbledore also presented the Goblet of Fire, an ancient magical instrument that would select the champions for each school. He drew a magical age-line around it so no underage students could try their luck.

“I think an aging potion should be enough to get around it,” Fred murmured to George. The twins weren’t deterred by Dumbledore’s warnings nor by his show of advanced magic.

Hermione chastised them, but Ron seemed interested.

“What do you think? Don’t you think we could do it?” Ron asked Harry behind Hermione’s back.

“Maybe”. Harry didn’t feel like going against Dumbledore’s petition of respecting the age requirement. The tournament was just a bit tempting, though. Ron sighed over the money and glory, while the twins focused more on the money than the recognition. Harry didn’t really care about the money. It would be great to win and show everyone who had ever talked badly about him that he was capable. It would be even greater to outshine everyone and finally get Draco to look only at him.

Harry shook his head. It was only a fleeting illusion. He’d rather see the action from the stands for once, instead of risking his life.

………

The next day, the school was buzzing with impatience, even more than before. That Halloween night, the champions would be chosen. Thankfully, the collective energy was contagious, because Harry had slept very late.

It had been Draco’s fault, of course. Harry could tune out Ron’s fanboyish ramble after a couple of minutes, but he couldn’t ignore Draco when he called them through the two-way mirrors after dinner. He had shrieked and giggled with Ron, both of them acting like Krum’s most besotted fans. They had stayed up late, retracing Draco’s conversation with Krum, which was mostly about his beginnings in professional Quidditch, his favourite broomsticks and stuff like that. Harry would’ve never thought he would get bored talking about Quidditch, and yet he was.

Against all odds, Draco had managed to get autographs for everyone. He had given Harry, Ron and Hermione theirs during breakfast. Ron had almost fainted, and he swore to protect his with his life. Harry didn’t care very much about the signed piece of parchment, but he saved it like he did with everything he got from Draco. Ron had to rescue Hermione’s from the trash. 

During the day, students of age placed their pieces of parchment in the Goblet of Fire. The twins’ plan to avoid the age line failed spectacularly. They drank the aging potion and crossed the line, but they were ejected away with long beards and white hair. They took their defeat with grace, though. They declared their support to other Gryffindor candidates like the Gryffindor Chaser Angelina Johnson. Harry hoped the Hogwarts champion would be a Gryffindor. He heard Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff and Warrington from Slytherin were participating too, and he’d rather Angelina get chosen over them.

Nighttime came with the most stunning Halloween Feast Harry had ever seen in Hogwarts. Nobody was paying much attention to the food or the ghosts, though. Everyone was eyeing the high table and the Goblet of Fire, waiting impatiently for the announcement of the champions.

Eventually, Dumbledore stood up, the chatter died down, and the Goblet’s flames turned from blue to red. Fleur Delacour, a stunning girl who Ron swore was a veela, was chosen as the Beauxbatons’ champion. Viktor Krum was unsurprisingly chosen as Durmstrang’s. Cedric Diggory was Hogwarts’. The Hufflepuffs were ecstatic over the fact, hooting loudly, stomping and clapping as hard as they could. Harry clapped too. He didn’t mind Cedric. He was alright, and he was infinitely better than Warrington. 

Nobody expected it when the Goblet’s flames turned red for a fourth time. Even Dumbledore looked surprised. Then, it spat out a fourth piece of parchment.

“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore read aloud.

The hall fell silent. Nobody clapped or cheered. Harry looked around at pale faces, wide eyes and gaping mouths. He felt his stomach dropping.

“I didn’t put my name in,” he muttered to Hermione and Ron. Both of them were silently stunned.

Harry looked across the hall and found the only person he cared about more than his Gryffindor friends.

“I didn’t put my name in the Goblet,” he said as loudly as he could, hoping to reach him and only him.

Draco was paler than ever. He looked just as surprised as everyone else. After a second passed, his surprise turned into worry. He eyed around wildly and then gestured something Harry couldn’t understand. Draco repeated the motion with his hand, which Harry interpreted as a “Go on,” and also “Later, we’ll talk later”. He didn’t seem angry or disappointed or anything too bad.

Only then, Harry could process the sounds around him again. Dumbledore called him. Hermione whispered for him to go and pushed him gently. Angry murmurs were erupting from all around him, but mostly from the Hufflepuff table.

Harry started walking. Before reaching the door Dumbledore signaled, Harry glanced at the Slytherin table once again. He wasn’t surprised to see most of them looked as angry as the Hufflepuffs. Draco wasn’t, though. Draco was only looking at Harry, nodding in silent encouragement. Harry tried and failed to fake a smile. He took a deep breath and walked into the champion’s room.

………

If someone had ever warned first-year Draco that befriending Harry Potter implied yearly life-or-death situations, great amounts of stress and lots of damage control, he might have given up to spare himself the hard work. That was a lie. He would’ve tried to befriend him anyway. However, Draco wasn’t happy. Why did it always have to be Harry? Even if Harry was innocent of getting himself in the situation, somehow he got involved, thus, it affected Draco.

Everyone was gossiping about the fourth champion, the under-aged champion that Hogwarts didn’t ask for. The words whispered in the hall weren’t nice ones. In the few minutes they stayed in the Great Hall, before the teachers sent everyone to their houses, Draco skimmed faces and processed as many rumours as he could. Yep, three out of four of Hogwarts houses were against Harry. There wasn’t anyone sympathetic to Harry in Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw seemed to be following their lead. Slytherin was divided. No, that was putting it nicely. Slytherin was against Harry too, except Draco. It reminded him heavily of second year, when everyone suspected Harry to be the heir of Slytherin. He had been miserable then, and he would be miserable if the atmosphere didn’t change. Draco had to do something.

“I can’t believe he would do it,” Daphne said, completely disregarding Harry’s loud proclamation of innocence. She was more curious than angry, though. Draco could work with that.

“If he did it, he’s more cunning than I thought,” Blaise said, his admiration loud and clear. Well, he didn’t believe Harry either, but he wasn’t hating him, so it was good.

Vince and Greg were wondering quietly if Harry had always been a hidden powerful dark wizard, which they disregarded on their own. Draco left them musing on their own. He knew he could talk them into reason later.

Unfortunately, Pansy and Theo were on their worst behaviour.

Pansy was speculating with Fay Runcorn, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode. The four girls were completely convinced Harry Potter had put his name on the Goblet in the search of glory, as far as Draco could hear. He tried to pull Pansy away from them, but she only sniffed and continued gossiping. She swore loudly that Harry had a hero complex that didn’t let him stay still when he had the opportunity to show off in front of danger. All the girls agreed. Draco glared at her. While Harry tended to get in dangerous situations and tried to help everyone, it was different. He had said he didn’t put his name in, so it wasn’t his fault this time. Draco would have to talk to Pansy alone later. He might have to pull on some favours to get her to shut up.

Theo was talking to some Durmstrang students. They didn’t seem happy about Hogwarts having two champions. Theo said Harry Potter always did what he wanted and that he didn’t represent Hogwarts’ way of doing things at all. “If anything, the headmaster gives him too much leniency,” Theo said. “We all know he’s only a hot-heated wanna-be-hero”.

Draco elbowed him to shut up, but Theo ignored him.

Right. He didn’t like Harry either. He was still resentful over the polyjuice potion in second year, and Theo was able to hold long grudges.

Draco tried to keep himself calm. He couldn’t start shaking his friends into reason in front of everyone. It would break the Slytherin code of presenting a united front. He had to wait to talk to them in private. At least the Gryffindors seemed partially convinced to support Harry. Draco could see them talking animatedly, not angry like the other houses.

Once in the safety of the dungeons, Draco used all his charm and the power of years-long friendship to convince Pansy to not make Harry’s situation worse.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted.

“Harry is my friend! The rumours will hurt him. You know he hates when everyone’s talking about him”.

“He should’ve thought about it before putting his name in”.

Draco raised his hands to the ceiling, exasperated. “You know he didn’t do it. You know he hates attention. Come on, just convince the girls to stop talking about it”.

Pansy huffed and crossed her arms. “Is he paying you to be his public relations manager or something? It’s barely been an hour and you’re already trying to help him”.

“For the last time, he’s my friend! I would do the same for you”.

“I hope so”. She pouted, but her eyes were pleased.

Pansy promised to convince the girls to at least consider Harry could be telling the truth. Draco made her swear she wouldn’t be mean to him until the situation calmed down, and she reluctantly agreed.

Draco went to the dorm to talk to the boys next. Vince and Greg agreed to not badmouth Harry, though they had their doubts about his innocence. Blaise said he didn’t care about the truth, he only planned to enjoy the unexpected chaos. He accepted Draco’s request to avoid asking or upsetting Harry. Theo didn’t accept. Draco did his best to not use the “if you are against my friend then you are against me” card, but his speech leaned dangerously close to it.

“His reputation will be bad enough as it is. Please. Just, don’t spread bad things about him. I know you don’t like him, but–”

Theo sighed loudly. “You worry too much about him. Nothing’s happened yet and you’re already fretting”.

“Theo”.

“Fine. What do I get?”

After promising tutoring and favours, Draco finally stretched on his bed. He hoped he was overreacting and Harry wouldn’t be hated by the other houses. If he was lucky, the headteachers would annul his participation. If not, Harry would have to participate in a deathly competition with older students. Draco knew better than to trust luck when it was about Harry.

………

Harry stared at the entrance of the Great Hall. It was a new day, but he felt like he hadn’t really woken up. He was still dreaming. He had to be asleep, drowning in a nightmare.

He remembered the night before in flashes.

Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were outraged, claiming Hogwarts had double chances at winning.

Snape accused Harry of putting his name in the bloody Goblet of Fire.

Dumbledore asked calmly if he did.

Harry said no.

Maxime and Karkaroff didn’t believe him, neither did the other champions.

Alastor Moody said someone put his name on because they were planning to kill Harry.

Dumbledore agreed.

Professor McGonagall tried to reason Harry out of participating.

Bartemius Crouch claimed Harry had to participate because once the Goblet chose, the champions were bound by magic to do it.

Without waiting for his input, it had been decided Harry had to participate.

At the very least, McGongall claimed they had to write to his guardian. She had personally written the letter and sent it to Sirius.

Harry also had to write to Sirius and Remus, but he didn’t have the energy to do it.

Not after he realized Ron didn’t believe him and refused to talk to him.

It was definitely a nightmare.

The Gryffindors celebrated him, but everybody thought he had smartly tricked his way into the tournament. The other houses didn’t believe him either, but they weren’t happy about it.

Harry didn’t want to walk into the Great Hall, to face everyone glaring at him, to face breakfast without Ron, and to face whatever Draco had decided to believe.

As if his thoughts called him, Draco walked out of the hall with Hermione. Both of them were levitating what looked like three English breakfasts. 

“Harry! We were waiting for you. Want to eat outside?” Hermione asked with a smile. 

Harry nodded, grateful.

The three of them stopped under the closest tree to the castle. The weather was too cold for them to walk all the way to the lake. Draco and Hermione worked quickly to set up a space for them to eat. Harry had perfected many spells that summer with Sirius' help, but he was sure he would never master magic the way his friends did.

With amazing control, Hermione transfigured a sheet out of a napkin without dropping the food she was levitating. Draco transfigured elegant dishes and cutlery, and he conjured small floating flames of green fire to warm them up.

Harry told them everything, from his mandatory participation to Ron’s attitude, passing through Moody’s theory of someone plotting to kill him again. Draco looked angrier after every word Harry uttered.

“It's completely irresponsible to force you to participate!” He complained. When he heard Ron’s part, he was properly fuming. “How dare he call you a liar? Isn’t he our friend? He should be here, not throwing a tantrum!”

Hermione explained to them that Ron was probably jealous of the attention Harry was getting. That he was insecure because of his many successful brothers and Harry’s fame. Draco interrupted her to attack Ron with every name he could think of.

“I don’t think I’ve ever known someone stupid enough to be jealous of the risk of death”.

“He’s got his insecurities–”.

“Maybe if I knock him out his brain will start working again”.

“Draco, no”.

Harry felt like tearing up. Hermione and Draco were on his side. Draco was offended on Harry’s behalf, and he was listing all the violent ways they could use to force Ron to see the truth. 

Ron’s reaction hurt, but Harry could survive as long as he had Draco on his corner. He was already plotting ways to protect Harry from whoever wanted to kill him. He talked about convincing people to support him in other houses, but Harry wasn’t really interested. He only cared about his closer friends and Sirius.

A week later, Harry was doubting his prior statement. Most of Hogwarts was turning his back on him, loudly proclaiming their support to Cedric.

It didn’t help when the press was allowed into the school to write about the Tournament. Harry met Rita Skeeter, a journalist that twisted everything she saw or heard to sell it into a dramatic and false story. She interviewed the four champions, but somehow managed to write pages about Harry and barely mentioned the others. Her article presented him as a helpless boy that cried over his dead parents and that had gotten into the Tournament on his own.

It was terrible. Harry hated that woman.

Glares and whispers followed Harry everywhere. If people thought he wanted to steal attention for himself before, they were sure of it after Skeeter’s article. People mocked him, read the paper and giggled in front of him, and spread stupid rumours about him. It was demoralizing. To make it worse, Rita Skeeter had interviewed other students about him. She had proclaimed Harry was in a relationship with Hermione, because they spent most of their time together.

When Harry read that part, he was horrified. He had run immediately to tell Draco it was a lie. Luckily, he had already known and he laughed it off. 

Sirius did his best to cheer Harry up. He wrote long letters, telling Harry how he tried to convince Dumbledore and then the Ministry to take him out of the Tournament, but it was impossible. He tried to sue Rita Skeeter for the article, but when it proved too difficult he settled for yelling at her in the Daily Prophet’s offices. He also wrote extensive advice on how to handle large crowds of people talking rubbish about him.

Remus wrote to him too, sometimes in the same letters as Sirius and sometimes on his own, giving him advice on spells he could practice for the first task. Nobody knew what it would imply. It was supposed to be a surprise to evaluate their courage in front of unexpected danger. Despite the lack of information, Remus tried to prepare him the best he could.

Through it all, Harry was surprised to find he felt more relaxed in the classes he shared with the Slytherins. Somehow, Draco had managed to convince or threaten every single Slytherin in their year to be polite or leave Harry alone. If it weren’t for Snape’s constant scowl, Potions would have been Harry’s new favourite subject. Care of Magical Creatures was almost a paradise for him. Not only Hagrid cared for Harry and the Slytherins behaved, but they were always studying interesting creatures. Hagrid complained the School Board kept monitoring his lessons and banned some experimental creatures Hagrid wanted to introduce them to. It was one of the few times Harry was thankful for the board.

They had two more lessons on Hippogriffs, and then they studied Abraxans, which were huge winged horses. Hagrid had asked Madame Maxime to lend him a few for the class, since they were used to seeing students without attacking.

Ron was distant in class, choosing to be part of Dean and Seamus’ group. Instead, Draco, Daphne and sometimes Pansy joined Harry and Hermione. It stung that Ron wouldn’t be with them, but Harry was slowly getting used to the new dynamic. He was immensely thankful to Draco, who filled the silences with chatter and did his best so Ron’s absence wasn’t felt.

The other classes weren’t as peaceful, but at least the displeasure of his classmates was reduced to glares. Nobody commented anything to Harry’s face or to his back.

After days in which Harry shared space with silent Hufflepuffs and distant Ravenclaws, he realized it was thanks to Draco. One of the Hufflepuffs, Smith or something, said loudly something about Harry crying over his parents, repeating Skeeter’s words.

Harry was about to snap at him, when a couple of the girls and a boy all hushed him and pushed him away. The boy, Harry was sure he was Macmillan, reprimanded Smith quietly.

He couldn’t understand everything, but he heard clearly “Draco said to leave him alone”.

“And why do we have to obey Malfoy?” Smith protested loudly.

Macmillan shushed him again. One of the girls mumbled something about deals and respect and Draco’s name again.

Harry asked Draco about it, and he dismissed it with the air of someone who wasn’t doing anything special. “I exchanged a couple of favours. Tutoring, asking my mother to get highly rare stuff they wanted, the typical deal. It’s nothing, really”.

It was touching. Draco was willing to use his Slytherin deals to make Harry’s life easier, even if it was something as simple as keeping their classmates in check so they wouldn’t bother him. It was impossible for Harry’s heart to remain impassive. How could he not like someone as caring as Draco? He had carefully controlled the urge to kiss him. Instead he settled for a wobbly smile and a silent promise to get him a wonderful Christmas present. 

………

Draco had tried very hard to not say anything to Ron Weasley. How dare he leave Harry when he was facing not only the Tournament, but the nameless threat of someone who wanted him dead? Draco couldn’t understand it. He was aware his own patience had a limit, and he was convinced he was the mature one, so he could ignore the guy until he came back to his senses.

It helped that he was busy using his hard-earned influence to keep everyone in their year in check, and he was busy talking with Hermione about house elves, and he also had to keep up with his studies. It didn’t stop him from sending Ron scathing glares whenever he could, but it distracted him enough to leave him alone.

Until that day.

Draco knew most students were acting like idiots. Gryffindors were all smiles to Harry, but the other houses weren’t. While the champions themselves didn’t encourage bullying Harry, their most ardent fans still mocked and taunted him. Harry did his best to ignore them all, but Draco knew him well enough to understand he was hurt. Especially when Ron was around and didn’t do anything.

As much as he would like to, Draco couldn’t shut up the older students. He didn’t have enough leverage. Instead, he decided to work on something to make Harry feel there were people on his side. He stayed up all night creating magical badges that said “Support Harry Potter” in luminous gold and red letters. The message changed to “Harry wins” after pressing the badges. He distributed his creations to his friends with his most authoritative look. 

Vince, Greg, Daphne and Blaise accepted with barely concealed giggles and a teasing roll of their eyes. Pansy and Theo fought to not wear them, kicking and screaming until Draco won using mild hexes. Once Pansy stopped fighting, Millicent, Fay and Tracey accepted the badges without any comment. 

The dungeons were quiet when they walked wearing the badges. Warrington stood up with the clear intention to fight, so Draco quickened the pace and led his friends out of the dungeons to avoid confrontation. He gave a lot of badges to the Weasley twins, to Ginny, and to the Creevey boy, who now had a younger brother just as obsessed with Harry as the older one. He trusted they would spread the badges to the Gryffindors.

The Hufflepuffs didn’t seem happy to see the badges in their shared classes. Zacharias Smith remarked loudly about licking the boots of the Boy Who Lived, and his cousin Sally, Finch-Fletchley and Hopkins whispered their agreement. Draco bit back a lot of poison he could spit only to protect the thin alliance he had with Smith, Macmillan and Bones.

Pansy didn’t have that restriction, and immediately snapped back with a string of un-lady-like insults. While she had complained about the badges, she wasn’t one to let others talk badly about any of them. Vince and Greg were almost happy to have an excuse to fight with Smith. It took Draco’s quick reflexes in casting shields and Bones and Macmillan interceding to avoid a brawl.

In the next class, the Ravenclaws didn’t glare, only stared in curious silence, until Sue Li asked Draco and Pansy if they wore the badges to pay Potter back because he saved them from the Chamber. While there were only unconfirmed rumours, most people knew Pansy and Draco had been kidnapped by the monster and they were supposed to die there. Naturally, nobody in Slytherin liked talking about it. Vince, Greg, and surprisingly Daphne and Theo, immediately started arguing with her, which in turn provoked her friends to answer back. It quickly got out of hand when Oliver Rivers called them too sensitive to be children of dark wizards, and in turn Vince called him a mudblood, and then Draco had to cast a shield before they got to punches. In the end, Draco had to apologize to Rivers in name of Vince, who refused to do it, Lisa Turpin pushed Sue Li to apologize for her lack of tact and Terry Boot kicked Rivers until he begrudgingly apologized too. Unfortunately, Vince and Rivers got detention and both houses lost points.

After that awful morning, Draco was in a horrible mood.

When the Slytherins bumped into three Gryffindor boys during lunch break, Draco had no patience left for Ronald Weasley.

Seamus and Dean were proudly wearing badges, and they showed Draco their thumbs up before walking away. Ron, however, couldn’t keep his mouth shut and muttered “Ridiculus”.

Even if the comment wasn’t so bad, Ron’s mocking voice broke his already thin self control.

“Do you have a problem with it?” Draco snapped without concealing his anger.

“Not really. You are free to throw away as much money as you want,” Ron shrugged.

“I did the badges myself”.

Ron seemed only a little surprised. “Wow. Okay. Are you the president of Harry’s new fanclub or something?”

“Why are you so bitter we are showing your friend a little bit of support? Unlike you, I’m trying to help him when most of the school is against him”.

“I’m not bitter. He was a bad friend first. He didn’t say he would put his name in”.

“He didn’t put his bloody name in the bloody Goblet! Don’t you know Harry even a little? He wouldn’t do it. He hates the spotlight”.

Ron narrowed his eyes. Draco returned his gaze, fuming. Ron laughed.

“You know, you’re kind of right. He only draws attention to himself whenever you order him to”.

That stung. Draco had only suggested Harry use his famous name when he had a noble goal, like freeing Sirius or Lupin. Not to get unwanted attention.

“I didn’t order him to do anything. And he didn’t put his name in”.

“Poor Harry,” Ron shook his head. “You’re so blind”.

“I’m not blind! You’re the one who refuses to see the truth because you’re jealous”.

“I’m not”. Ron’s face turned red with anger.

Draco was glad he was getting a reaction out of him. “Yes, you are”.

“What do I have to be jealous of? I’m not a pathetic guy who accepts being ordered around by a stupid snob like you”.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Draco said, seething. At his back, he heard his friends whispering angrily. He sent them a glare. He could deal with Ron alone. “You have nothing to be proud of, so you have everything to be jealous about. Is it money? Fame? Or maybe because you don’t have a personality and everyone likes Harry better than you—” and, because he was mad, he added– “even your family”.

Ron drew out his wand. Draco did the same. Ron casted something, Draco side-stepped the spell and shot back a Jelly-Legs curse that Ron barely avoided.

A small circle of nosy people had formed around them, hooting and screaming. He could hear maybe Pansy’s or Daphne’s voices in the background.

Ron casted a couple of hexes that Draco blocked with a shield. It wasn’t difficult. Mother had taught him to duel and she was one of the best. Ron was not a challenge.

“You’re a coward!” Ron yelled after trying and failing to break his shield.

Draco dropped the shield and shot back a quick string of curses. Only one of them hit Ron. It pushed him back and made him drop his wand. He didn’t give up. Wandless, Ron lunged with raised fists. Without thinking about it, Draco raised his wand.

“Don’t curse unarmed students!” Someone yelled.

Ron stopped his punch. Draco didn’t cast. A spell hit him from behind.

His vision blurred. He felt nauseous.

Draco blinked, shivering, trying to understand what was happening. He heard too many noises. People were screaming and laughing. Why was everybody taller?

Instead of reason, Draco felt the basic instinct to run and to hide. He tried to fight it, but he was hurting and the impulse was too strong. He ran. The faces surrounding him were too far away for him to recognize. He could smell, though. He found friendly, familiar scents, but they were tinted with anger, fear and hate. Their magic was reacting wildly, and they were too loud. Someone tried to grab him.

Draco ran between the feet of too-tall people, escaping from everyone.

He turned a corner. There, he found a scent he knew very well. It was friendly and safe. Draco trusted it. He ran to it. A squeak got out of his mouth. Hands hovered over him. He knew those hands. They always held him gently. Draco allowed them to pick him up. Why was he so small again? Oh, but a comforting smell was surrounding him like a warm blanket. He liked it. He nuzzled into the hands.

Loud voices approached them. 

Suddenly, the scent surrounding him turned distressed, angry, but overwhelmingly protective. The hands separated. Draco was in front of big, green eyes. Those were such beautiful eyes. A careful finger touched his head. Draco allowed it. Even if the smell was tinted with distress, the feeling of care and fondness was stronger. Draco bumped his little nose to the finger petting him.

Sounds appeared again, but he couldn’t understand. He was left on the ground slowly, carefully. Draco missed the hands as soon as they released him. He tried to go back to them.

There was a flash of light and the world twisted.

Draco was disoriented, shivering and with the urge to run. He had grown tall again. The smells had disappeared. He could recognize Professor McGonagall, pointing a wand at him, his own friends, who were all talking at the same time, and then Harry and Hermione, who were the closest to him.

Draco felt confused, weak and exhausted. The transfiguration had been horrible. Who had done it? He was too drained to care. He knew who had held him, though. He crossed the small distance that separated him from Harry and rested his head on his shoulder.

“Just a second,” he mumbled. The smell was barely there, but Draco remembered how safe he had felt. He tried to calm his shivers. Harry’s arms surrounded him in a hug. Draco slowly relaxed.

“When Mr. Malfoy feels more stable, he has to go to the hospital wing,” McGonagall said.

“Draco, are you okay?” Pansy asked somewhere behind him.

Weird, Draco thought. Why had he run to Harry instead of Pansy?

Whatever. The hug was nice.

After a minute, his friends took him to the hospital wing. They told him Moody had transformed him into a ferret, apparently as punishment for attacking a wandless student. Of course everyone knew it was a lie. All his Slytherin friends were there and they had immediately surrounded Moody, demanding he turn Draco back to his human form. Theo and Pansy had tried to hex the teacher. Even Ron Weasley had been angry and yelling at the former auror. Draco had escaped, he ran into Harry, then McGonagall found him and transformed him back.

At his side, Harry was muttering colourful insults at Ron and Madeye Moody. Draco reassured him he was winning the duel before Moody unfairly intervened. Harry only huffed and intertwined their fingers. He held his hand all the way to the hospital wing, ignoring Pansy’s and Theo’s looks. Draco was too tired to care. He dreaded the letters he would have to write. His parents would probably come to the school to shout at Moody. He didn’t want to see them, and at the same time, he wanted them to defend him.

His friends seemed to sense his mood and stopped glancing at him. They walked all around him, no more than a step away. Harry was the closest. Their shoulders were brushing and his grip was firm and warm. Curious, Draco took a step closer to Pansy, who was at his other side. No. Maybe Theo, who was slightly in front of him? No. He returned to his original place right next to Harry.

Absentmintedly, Draco wondered how his stupid ferret form had realized before himself that he felt better the closer he was to Harry instead of anyone else.

Chapter Text

The first day students could visit Hogsmeade was scheduled for the weekend before the first task. Until then, without a clear idea of what life-threathening challenge he would face, Harry spent most of his free time studying in the library with Hermione, or practising spells in unused classrooms.

Most days, Draco joined them. He made a list of the previous tasks in the Tournament, and with Hermione’s help, he compiled the most useful spells that could be learnt in a short time. While he was properly worried about the Tournament, Harry quietly appreciated all the time he could spend at Draco’s side.

It was tempting to stay in Hogwarts while everyone else went to Hogsmeade. On the one hand, Harry had the permit slip signed by Sirius to visit the village. He could wander around the magical shops with Draco and Hermione without wearing the Invisibility Cloak, and maybe he could convince her to leave them alone for some time. The downside was that Ron would be in Hogsmeade too. Seeing him would ruin Harry’s mood. To make it worse, the same people that turned their noses at him in school would do the same out there. On the other hand, Harry could stay in the castle and easily convince Draco to stay back with him with the excuse of practising. They could spend all day together without other people glaring or mocking him.

Before he decided, he got a letter from Sirius. His godfather asked to meet him in the Three Broomsticks to talk about the first task. Harry wrote back his agreement, happy to see Sirius after months.

Harry walked with Hermione all the way from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. Harry liked his friend, he enjoyed talking with her. It didn’t stop him from missing Ron, his jokes and his Quidditch talk.

Before the silence stretched for too long, Ginny and Luna joined them. The girls were excited for their first time visiting Hogsmeade. They wanted to visit the shops and especially the Shrieking Shack. Luna thought a misunderstood creature was hanging around there instead of ghosts.

Harry and Hermione exchanged knowing glances. They both knew there weren’t ghosts in the Shack, only Remus when he had transformed there as a child, and then rumours to keep people away. They indulged Luna’s theories and repeated the fake stories about ghosts.

When they arrived at the village, Ginny took Harry aside.

“If you see Ron, ignore him. We all know he’s being stupid,” she said with an apologetic smile. “He won’t listen to me. Fred and George are talking to him, but he’s a stubborn ass. He’ll get over it”.

“Thanks, Ginny”. Harry knew the Weasleys, except Ron, weren’t angry at him. If Ron knew what his sister said, he would be angry.

Ginny waved a cheerful goodbye and left, giggling with Luna.

Harry wanted to go directly to the Three Broomsticks. However, he wasted time hiding in the Owl Post, because he saw Rita Skeeter and the photographer that was always with her.

“Maybe they’re staying here to see the task”. Hermione eyed them carefully, leaning to the window. Harry waited deep inside the post office, hoping they didn’t notice him.

Once they were sure Skeeter had gone away, they strode to the Three Broomsticks. Sirius was waiting for them right at the door. His blue eyes were lost on the crowd, and he was playing with his wand, casting small golden sparks.

“Sirius!”

Harry smiled and ran to him. Sirius opened his arms, inviting him for a hug. Harry collided into him with a small huff. Sirius looked clean and healthy, warm and stylish with his muggle dark coat. Harry laughed into the hug. It was so good to be back with his godfather, the closest person to a family Harry had.

Sirius invited Harry and Hermione inside the pub and got a table for them. He told Harry Remus was getting better, but they decided he should rest in Grimmauld Place until he was completely back on his feet. Harry wanted to relax into an easy catch-up, but they had important matters to discuss.

The Tournament and whoever wanted Harry dead were the things Sirius was more worried about. He told Harry about Igor Karkaroff being a Death Eater during the First War, but he didn’t stay loyal once Voldemort fell and revealed lots of names to get out of Azkaban. Sirius mentioned how suspicious it was that Alastor Moody said he was attacked before the term started (though Arthur Weasley claimed it was a false alarm and Moody was paranoid), and how it was also suspicious that the Ministry worker Bertha Jorkins had disappeared in Albania.

“All of that, plus the Death Eaters acting up in the Quidditch Cup and conjuring the Dark Mark… It doesn’t smell good. You have to be careful, Harry. Whether it’s Karkaroff or someone else who put your name in the goblet, they may be part of a bigger plot. The Tournament can be an excellent front to get you killed and make it look like an accident”.

“It’s a good plan. They could only sit back and wait for me to die in any of the tasks,” Harry mumbled darkly.

“It’s really important that you’re prepared for anything, Harry. You’re protected in Hogwarts. Dumbledore won’t let anything happen to you, he promised me. However, the tasks…”

“I know. Draco and Hermione are helping me practice,” Harry said.

Sirius turned to Hermione, and both went over all the spells Harry had learnt. Those were mostly defensive spells, like the protective shield, disarming and the smoke screen, but he had also practised offensive ones like stunning.

Sirius added a couple of jinxes he knew to the ones Harry should practise. He was teaching him the wand movements when Moody and Hagrid entered the pub. They approached their table and greeted them. Moody didn’t seem interested in small talk, but Hagrid leaned closer to Harry’s ear and whispered to meet him at midnight.

Once both men walked away, Harry immediately told Sirius and Hermione about it. His godfather once again warned him to be careful, but he deemed it could be good to visit Hagrid. Maybe he wanted to share information about the Tournament.

“Luckily, I found this”. Sirius put a square package on the table. “I want you to take it tonight, in case anything happens with Hagrid”.

Harry opened the package and saw a familiar object. “A two way mirror!”

“Yes. Just like the one you have to talk with Draco”. Sirius smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not the only one. Hermione and Ron have one each”.

“That’s good. Two-way mirrors are very rare and expensive, so don’t lose the ones my cousin gave you and don’t lose this one either. Remember each mirror is only connected to another one. You can use the one I gave you to talk only with me”.

“Alright”.

Sirius smiled fondly. “James and I used them to talk all the time”.

Harry touched the mirror. Another object connected to his father. He could keep it, like every thing or memory Sirius shared with him.

“Thank you,” he said in the soft voice he used whenever they talked about his parents.

Sirius squeezed his hand in a comforting grip. “Call me in the morning. We can discuss whatever Hagrid tells you”.

“Okay”.

Sirius told them to say hi to Draco and mumbled unsolicited advice until Harry pushed him away. With a cheerful wave, Sirius disapparated back to London.

Harry convinced Hermione to walk around the village without meeting Ron. She mumbled they should talk, but relented at his insistence. They wandered through the shops while Harry looked not-so-secretly for white-blond hair.

Unfortunately, they only found Draco on their way back to the castle. He was with his Slytherin friends, miming a Quidditch move to get out of the way of a bludger. Harry jogged to catch up with him.

“Hey!” He greeted Draco.

“Hello, Draco, everyone,” Hermione added, waving at the other Slytherins. 

Draco beamed and let them join his group. They were talking about the last Quidditch match in the British League. Harry didn’t follow it, and without Ron he was totally out of the loop. Hermione didn’t seem interested, so she decided to question Crabbe and Goyle about their schoolwork. Both boys answered calmly, already used to her from all the tutoring Draco forced them to attend the previous year.

He gestured excitedly, discussing the stronger teams. “You’re so wrong if you think the Harpies are beating the Falcons”.

“You’re mad. The Harpies are better placed,” Ginny said confidently. Draco scoffed and she bit back a laugh.

Harry did a double take and realized that there were not only Slytherins in the group. Ginny and Luna were, in fact, on Draco’s other side.

“The Arrows were better placed than the Falcons last season, and yet they lost so badly,” Parkinson chimed in.

Luna scurried away from the heated argument and stood closer to Hermione. Harry asked her if they were with the Slytherins all day and she shook her head.

“We only found them a few minutes ago. Ginny came to check Ron hadn’t ruined her friendship with Draco”.

Harry glanced at them. He didn’t talk to Ginny very much when she wasn’t with her siblings. He talked more to the twins than her, but he didn’t know it was the other way around with Draco. He narrowed his eyes. Ginny wasn’t standing too close to him. They weren’t touching. Luckily Parkinson was doing her best to keep her at a proper distance. Harry decided Parkinson’s attitude was useful sometimes.

“Ron’s not talking to Draco with those funny mirrors. Ginny used to join from time to time. Now she can only talk with him whenever they cross paths, which is rare,” Luna informed in a disinterested, yet dreamy voice. “She was angry with Ron because she wanted to play Quidditch again with the Slytherins”.

Harry sighed. He had almost forgotten about flying because of the Tournament. He would like another friendly match, though. It could be fun with or without Ron. He told Draco so, and they agreed to play after the dreaded first task.

Before parting ways, he stepped aside with Draco and whispered about everything Sirius said and also about meeting Hagrid. Draco made him swear to tell him whatever happened at Hagrid’s.

………

Draco knew he could wait for the morning, but he stayed awake, ready to answer Harry. He heard Harry’s voice whispering in their two way mirror one hour past midnight. Draco mumbled his answer, careful to not be too loud even if the Slytherin common room was empty. 

“Hagrid showed me what the first task is about. You have to see it. Can you go to the Forest with me?”

For a second, Draco thought he had fallen asleep. Then, he shook his head to get rid of any sleepiness and squinted at Harry’s energetic face in the mirror. “Right now?”

“Yes. Trust me, you have to see it”.

“Can’t you tell me?”

“You’ll love it”.

With a heavy sigh and swearing to himself, Draco put on the first robes he found and a cloak. He complained when Harry showed up with the Invisible Cloak and they ran all the way to the Forbidden Forest. Luckily, the castle’s doors weren’t locked. Once they were in the Forest, Draco proclaimed he was ready to hex Harry if anything went wrong, and he swore loudly to never accompany him in his adventures again.

Harry chuckled. “Sure, sure”.

Draco elbowed him, refusing to admit they both knew he was lying.

He only stopped complaining once he saw the creatures assigned for the first task.

It turned out, Harry was right. Draco loved them.

“Dragons,” he breathed softly, reverently, adoringly.

At his side, Harry was saying something, but Draco didn’t hear him.

There were four majestic dragons chained to the ground, deeply asleep, close to a dozen of their eggs. Quiet wizards and witches ran around them, casting spells. 

As much as Draco had loved dragons since his childhood, he had never seen a full grown one. It was illegal to raise one, and Mother and Father had refused to take him to the reserves, afraid he would get hurt. The first and the last time he had seen a living dragon had been when the Norwegian Ridgeback Norbert stayed with Hagrid.

The dragons in the forest were not like Norbert. They were fully grown, they could breathe deadly fire if they wanted to, and they could fly higher than any broom if they were free of chains. Because of the presence of eggs, Draco could bet they were females, bigger and more feral than males.

Even in the darkness, in a clearing barely illuminated by medium-sized fires lit to keep the dragons warm, Draco could recognize the four of them. The beautiful and classy Swedish Short-Snout was sleeping close, its scales gleaming under the moonlight, sometimes silver and sometimes blue. The Common Welsh Green was smaller than the other ones, but the elegance of its jade coloured scales, its delicately-arched long neck and its shiny claws made up for it. The Chinese Fireball was breathtaking. Even in its sleep, the golden spikes that adorned its head and its gigantic wings could make any sensible wizard fall on their knees in silent reverence. The Hungarian Horntail was at the very back of the clearing, but Draco could not fail to recognize it. The black scales, the spiked tail, the angry frown of its eyes even closed were characteristic. It was like a painting made following every letter of the book description. Yet, it was so majestic that everything Draco had read about it was turned into meaningless words that paled in front of the real creature.

The dragons were of a beauty not made to be understood by mortal eyes. They were dangerous, imposing creatures with more magic than ten wizards. They were perfect.

Draco saw the dragon tamers leave, finally letting the dragons rest without undeserving flies squirming around them.

He tried to approach them. A firm hand on his elbow stopped him. Draco glared at Harry, who was shaking his head.

“I have to get closer,” Draco informed him in his most haughty voice, not leaving room for opposition.

Harry snickered. Obviously, the git didn’t understand the magnificence he was witnessing. “You don’t have to. You’re always telling me I get into dangerous situations all the time. This is the meaning of risk”.

“Well, you have fulfilled your yearly quota of risking your life. Yes, I know, this time it was unwilling. I, however, have not risked my life riding hippogriffs or being targeted by maniacs that want me dead. So–”.

“Draco, no”.

“Yes. Unhand me. I’ll go anyway”.

“Fine”.

With a heavy sigh and a roll of green eyes, Harry walked with Draco closer to the dragons. The Invisibility Cloak barely covered them, so they had to stand really close.

The Swedish Short-Snout moved in its sleep and smoke came out of its nostrils, blinding them. They jumped to the side and waited until they were sure fire wouldn’t follow. All the four dragons could, technically, breathe fire and kill them in their sleep. Guilty, Draco turned to face Harry. He had been right and Draco’s insistence had risked them being burned. However, Harry didn’t seem mad. He was staring at Draco with a smile.

“They’re amazing, aren’t they?” Harry asked without losing the softness of his face.

“Yeah”.

Draco shifted, weirdly shy. Harry wasn’t upset. He had gone all the way from the forest to the castle, then to the dungeons and back to the forest only because he knew Draco would love to see dragons. Harry would have to fight or face the magnificent creatures in some way. He could be terrified, and yet there he was, not leaving Draco’s side, accepting his whims.

Staring into his brilliant green eyes, Draco felt his heart skip a beat. Then, it quickened its pace, sending pleasant warmth and tingles all over his body.

“Thank you”. Draco bumped his shoulder and returned his gaze to the dragons. The rush of affection for Harry was still there, making him feel too conscious of their closeness.

“Can we go see the Chinese Fireball over there?” Draco pointed at the sleeping dragon.

“Okay”.

They wandered through the clearing, stopping in front of each of the dragons, far enough to move away if the dragon breathed fire, but close enough so they could admire them. Draco told Harry everything he knew about each one. Harry only hummed and nodded from time to time. Draco was sure he wouldn’t remember half the things he said. He would have to write everything down in the morning.

After Harry’s third yawn, Draco decided it was time to go back.

“Aren’t you cold?” Harry asked him once they turned their backs to the dragons.

Draco nodded. He was wearing a cloak, but once they were far from the fire and the adrenaline of seeing the dragons wore off, he could feel the cold.

Harry took off his own cloak. It was heavy, made of fancy dark-green wool. It was far more elegant than the muggle clothes he wore under it. Like he had grabbed the best-looking cloak he saw before heading out, not minding if it matched his outfit or not. The colour suited him, though. It made his eyes stand out.

Without warning, he put the cloak on Draco’s shoulders. Not happy with making his heart jump, Harry put his arm around him, his hand resting on the back of his waist, holding him close. He put the Invisibility Cloak over them again and gently pushed him to walk.

Draco felt his heart beating faster and faster, like it was trying to win a race or something. His feet hesitated, impeccable coordination failing him. His etiquette training saved him from tripping, but it was a close call. 

He kept walking, pretending nothing happened, willing the blush he felt on his face to disappear. Why wasn’t Harry taking off his hand? And the cloak? Wasn’t he cold? Besides, a warming charm would’ve been enough. There was no need to surround Draco with his cloak and his smell and his touch. Maybe he didn’t know the charm. Maybe he didn’t think of it, being muggle-raised had its downsides after all.

Draco tried to calm down. It was only a side-hug, he hugged Pansy like that all the time. Not for so long, though. Maybe Harry didn’t know it was different.

Draco risked a side-glance at Harry. He was staring determinedly to the castle in front of them. His shoulders were rigid, all of him radiating a tense energy. His face was very red.

“Is everything allright? Are you cold?” Draco asked in a voice higher than usual. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yes. No. I mean, everything is all right. I’m not cold. Sorry,” Harry said very quickly. He glanced at Draco and then back to the front. Harry laughed nervously. He raised the hand not touching Draco (Why was he still touching him?) and ruffled his dark hair. 

“What do you think I could do about the task? Hagrid asked Char- one of the dragon tamers, a very old and ugly dragon tamer, and he said we might have to go around the dragons, not really defeat them”.

Thankful for the distraction, Draco latched onto a brainstorm of ideas to avoid the dragons with magic they could master at their age. He managed to whisper plans all the way to the dungeons. Harry helped Draco to take off his cloak, and his fingers lingered a little too long on Draco’s shoulders. They said good-bye too fast, avoiding each other’s eyes and pretending it was not weird that Harry had kept his arm around Draco during all their walk back. 

Once in the empty common room, Draco touched his warm cheeks and waited until his heart calmed down. He didn’t think it was beating so fast because of the dragons.

Had Harry done it on purpose? No, it couldn’t be. Maybe he was afraid because of the task. That was it. Draco knew when people were anxious or afraid they did unexpected things, sometimes seeking a comfortable touch. It was because of the task. It was normal. So why was Draco reacting like that?

………

Being busy stopped Draco from thinking about that night in the forest. He spent the next few days surrounded by books in the library. He had relentlessly bothered Daphne, Blaise, Theo and Pansy until they surrendered all the rare books about dragons their families owned. Draco hadn’t revealed why he wanted them, but his friends weren’t stupid and they had figured out it had something to do with the first task. 

Sirius suggested Harry using a Conjunctivitis Curse on the dragon. It was a good idea, but it relied too much on luck. It required not only high precision, but also great power. The curse had to hit right into the dragon’s open eyes, and if Harry failed, he would have to face fire as angry retaliation. Besides, a blind dragon could still smell to locate the threat and breathe fire against it. Because of the eggs, the dragon would be more feral than usual, and the pain of the curse would make it way worse. 

After Draco enumerated all the ways it could turn ugly, Harry turned green and asked for time to think. Too busy skimming through books, Draco made the mistake of letting him go for a walk. He could’ve never guessed Harry would use his time to warn Cedric Diggory about the dragons.

Draco chewed him out, claiming Diggory was of age and he was fully prepared to participate in the Tournament, unlike Harry, who needed every advantage he could get.

“Do you think I am not as good as him? As them?” Harry complained.

Draco protested more, but Hermione backed Harry up, saying it was really noble and kind to make sure everyone competed in fair conditions. Harry mumbled Madame Maxime and Karkaroff had seen the dragons, so Delacour and Krum had been warned. He muttered under his breath that he was just as capable as them.

Draco glared at the Gryffindors, but finally let them gloat on their famous chivalry. If there was one good thing Harry got out of warning Diggory, it was that Alastor Moody had seen the whole thing and felt fond enough of Harry’s Gryffindor spirit to give him advice. His advice was actually quite good. Draco agreed that Harry had to use his strengths, and flying was definitely one of those. They could complement it with other spells, of course. 

Harry had difficulty with the summoning charm he needed to get his broomstick. Hermione and Draco took turns until Harry got the hang out of it, thanks to Hermione waving many of Harry’s possessions he wanted back. They tried unsuccessfully with books, parchment and quills, until Hermione got the brilliant idea to use one picture Harry didn’t want Draco to see. He managed to summon it on the first try. Draco asked Hermione about it, and she brushed him off saying it was about Quidditch. Maybe it was Harry’s favourite quidditch player or something. Draco had barely seen a blur –or blurs– on a broom before Harry summoned the picture.

After confirming his success with paper-thin objects, Hermione suggested Harry try with more heavy stuff, like the mirrors and then some small book Sirius had gifted Harry for his birthday.

It took two days for Harry to get the spell right. The rest of time, Draco tried to teach him a little bit of transfiguration and charms. When November 24th came, Draco and Hermione were exhausted, but sure they had done everything they could to guarantee if not Harry’s victory, at least his survival.

………

The day of the first task, Draco woke up before dawn. He was dressed and tapping his feet on the floor before anyone else opened their eyes in the dorm. After getting the four grumbling Slytherin boys out of their beds, Draco waited in the common room for each of his peers to make them remember who they were rooting for. 

Draco ignored the glares of older students and supervised all the Slytherins in his year wearing the badges to support Harry Potter. Thankfully, Daphne thought it was sweet and helped him to control the loudest complaints of Pansy and Theo. With her help, he even convinced a few younger students to wear the badges, led by Daphne’s younger sister Astoria. Once that was done, Draco marched as quickly as he could to the Great Hall.

He joined Hermione on the Gryffindor table to supervise Harry eating breakfast. His friend was awfully quiet, pale, and eating as slowly as he could get away with. Ginny and the twins showed up to wish Harry good luck wearing the badges, then the Gryffindor Quidditch team, then the other Gryffindors in their year. Draco sat with Harry throughout all their greetings and good wishes. He made Harry repeat their plan before McGonagall called him to follow her to the champions tent, and let him go with a squeeze on his cold fingers.

It was a sign he was definitely anxious. Draco told Hermione so and they decided to see Harry in the champions tent. Maybe they could offer some encouragement before the task. They scurried away from the crowd and they waited patiently for Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch to leave the tent before they could sneak in.

The four champions were distraught, visibly shivering, pacing or frowning, waiting to be called to face their dragons. Harry was sitting with his head between his hands.

Hermione gave him a quick hug and a few motivational words. Then, she stepped aside and it was Draco’s turn. He did the same as Hermione, a hug and words of encouragement, but Harry didn’t let him go as fast as her. He kept his hands on his upper arms, a comfortable grip Draco didn’t feel like shaking off.

“Draco”. Behind the glasses, Harry’s eyes seemed to forget the fear for a moment. He had that look, the one which appeared whenever he was determined to win a Quidditch match. It was so intense Draco couldn’t look away.

“Everything I’ve learnt for this task has been thanks to you,” Harry said.

“And Hermione,” Draco wanted to add, but his mouth wasn’t moving. Maybe sensing he wanted to interrupt, Harry’s eyes dropped to his very quiet lips. Then, slowly, he raised them back.

“Look at me. Look only at me when I show you the wizard I’ve become because of you”.

Draco felt all the blood concentrating on his head, especially on his cheeks. He was sure he was as red as an apple, as a tomato, as a Gryffindor flag, as… His mind was unhelpfully babbling.

“If you want to blame me for your defeat–”.

“No. I’m saying that I’ll win because of you. For you”.

A loud bang announced Cedric Diggory had to start his task, and Draco and Hermione had to leave.

“Show me how you win, then,” Draco said. He left in a hurry, doing his best to hide his blush under the collar of his cloak. Hermione giggled all the way to the stands where the students were watching the task.

Theo had saved him a seat. He was so interested in the dragons he didn’t make any faces at Hermione when she sat next to him. The Slytherins had heard about dragons since childhood, and they admired them enough to respect the champions who were going against them.

Draco was thankful he had paid Colin Creevey to take pictures of the tasks beforehand, because he couldn’t concentrate. He was dazed throughout Cedric’s attempt at getting the golden egg from the Swedish Short-Snout. He did some transfiguration, but he couldn’t make out the details. He was worried about Harry, but he was also –weirdly excited? 

He could appreciate the dragons during Delacour’s and Krum’s turns, but his mind was divided, half focused on the beautiful dragons and half waiting for Harry to appear.

Finally, it was Harry’s turn, agonizingly the last champion. Because he was Harry Potter and he had the worst luck on earth, he was facing the most dangerous dragon, the Hungarian Horntail. 

The Gryffindors cheered loudly. Dean Thomas had drawn some kind of banner, which was held by Seamus Finnigan, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. All of them wore their badges proudly. Ron Weasley was sitting with the twins, pale and silent next to his loud siblings. Draco promised to himself if something happened to Harry, he would break Ron’s nose.

Harry took out his wand and summoned his Firebolt. The crowd fell silent, waiting for something to happen.

Using his time wisely, like Draco had suggested, Harry hid behind a rock and conjured a smoke screen. He repeated the spell again and again, until neither the crowd nor the dragon could see anything through the smoke.

The broom flew right into the spell, headed straight to Harry. Bagman commented loudly something Draco didn’t care for. Harry remained hidden in the smoke, hopefully finishing the plan they had carefully drafted.

The smoke cleared around the dragon, just enough to let the crowd and the judges know what was happening. Numerous birds transfigured from stones and moving rocks with weird shapes charged at the horntail. Despite the anxiety taking over him, Draco couldn’t stop a snort at the half-transfigured rocks. Harry hadn’t mastered the transfiguration spells on bigger objects. While Hermione had despaired over the imperfect forms, Draco had figured out the dragon wouldn’t care, and instead focused on training Harry so he could make the deformed rocks move like they wanted them to.

The dragon didn’t waste time and shot fire at all the approaching figures. While it focused on the ground, Harry flew right over its head and then floated silently behind its back. As long as he flew silently and un-threateningly, the dragon would ignore him in favour of attacking the charging rocks and birds.

A particularly large moving rock tapped danced just out of the dragon’s reach, surviving the fire thanks to a strong shield. To get it, the horntail stood up and took just one step away from its eggs.

It was enough. Harry dived from behind the dragon’s back, got a hold of the golden egg and then raised back up, escaping just by a millimetre the dragon’s fire, and then rolled to avoid the horned tail. He raised out of the dragon’s reach, un-scratched and smiling.

Harry flew over the crowd, raising the golden egg. An eruption of cheers and claps followed him. Draco was too busy following his flight to notice the dragon tamers subduing the dragon on the ground. Harry flew in a semi-circle and he stopped briefly above Draco. Their eyes locked.

“I told you,” Harry mouthed, wearing an annoying, blinding smirk.

“Show off!” Draco yelled with a proud smile.

Harry waved and flew away, where McGonagall was calling him to. Draco followed his path. His heart was fluttering trying to escape his chest, tingles made his grip weak, and his grin refused to leave his lips. It was not the first time he had seen Harry’s amazing flying skills. It was not the first time he had seen him escape a danger nobody of their age should face. He had always admired Harry for doing so, and yet, something had changed. He couldn’t look away.

Chapter Text

Harry was still zippy when he arrived at the tent where Madam Pomfrey would check him for injuries. His life wasn’t in danger anymore, so he could think of other important topics. He did well on the task, didn’t he? His charms had worked and his transfigurations could improve, but he had gotten the egg and he hadn’t been harmed in any way.

What did Draco think about it? Was he dazzled? Worried? Disappointed?

Harry had promised him a lot in the champions’ tent. It wasn’t because of over confidence, but the opposite. He had recklessly, thoughtlessly babbled all his hopes and almost confessed his feelings before facing a creature that could kill him. Maybe Draco thought he had failed. Maybe he thought Krum or Diggory or Delacour were more powerful or captivating. 

His train of thoughts was interrupted by Ron’s arrival. They looked at each other in silence. Ron broke it first.

“Whoever put your name in the goblet was definitely trying to kill you,” he said, serious and worried.

It wasn’t an apology, but it was his way to admit he had been wrong. As soon as he stopped talking, Harry decided to forgive him. He couldn’t stay mad at his friend for long.

Hermione, who stood there in silence, squealed with happiness. She teared up and hugged them, bumping their heads together. “Oh, finally. I’m so glad!”

Together, they walked out of the tent to see Harry’s marks.

Draco found them in the stands.

“Harry! You did so well!” He beamed. He looked ready to hug him, but stopped when he saw Ron. “So you’re back. Just like that”.

In Ron’s face it was clear he was considering snapping back or keeping the peace. He settled for saying “Harry and I made up”.

Draco sneered, tightened his grip on his wand.

“Don’t you have something else to say? I hope you have apologized to Harry because if you haven’t, I–”.

Harry knew he shouldn’t feel happy about it, but he was. Draco had been there during all the conflict, always standing at his side. Seeing Draco ready to hex Ron because of him increased the need to kiss the frown away from his face.

But as much as Harry liked it, he couldn’t endanger Ron to suffer Draco’s wrath. 

He stepped between them and tugged on Draco’s sleeve. “Let’s see the marks”.

Draco glared murderously at Ron, but followed Harry’s lead to the stands. To Harry’s surprise, he got first place on the task. Despite Karkaroff giving him four points, which provoked Ron and Draco’s insults, the other judges gave him nine to ten points each.

“Obviously you were the best. You weren’t injured like Diggory, you didn’t hurt the dragon’s eggs like Krum and you didn’t catch fire like Delacour”. Draco was back in a good mood, all smug smiles and pleased glances at Harry.

It was worth every hour he spent without sleep, practising the spells. 

“Do you think I am the best?” Harry asked genuinely, hopefully.

Draco’s cheeks tinted a soft pink. “Of course. You did better than everyone else. I mean, you had to, you had my help”.

A pleased smirk stretched his mouth. “I told you I’d win for you, didn’t I?”

From pale pink Draco turned to cherry red. “You did,” he mumbled, averting his eyes.

Was that a good sign? Or was it bad? Had it been too much? 

Before Harry could say anything else, a loud voice called him. Sirius was there, running to him with a blinding smile.

“Sirius! You didn’t tell me you were coming!” Harry yelled.

“I wanted to surprise you. You did amazing”. Sirius threw an arm around Harry’s shoulder and smiled at his friends. He greeted Ron and Hermione, and ruffled Draco’s hair. “My dear cousin! So much time without seeing you!”

Draco batted Sirius’ hand away. He fixed his hair with a pout. “I write to you all the time”.

“It’s not the same, little cousin. Anyway I have to thank you, and Hermione too. I couldn’t be here training Harry, but you did an incredible job”. He turned to Harry and hugged him tightly. “You did so well! I’m really proud. Remus’ going to be over the moon”.

Together, they walked back to the castle. Unfortunately, Sirius couldn’t stay in the school. They stretched their walk as much as they could, talking about the task, the judges, and Sirius news about Remus’ improving health.

“Mr. Potter! Sirius Black!” An annoying voice interrupted them. It was Rita Skeeter.

“How fantastic to see you both together! Do you have any words about the task? Mr. Black, what do you think–?”

“Leave us alone,” he barked.

They heard the photographer taking pictures as they turned their backs on them.

“I hope she doesn’t write something awful.” Hermione glanced back, worried.

“She can invent whatever she wants. The people who matter won’t care,” Sirius said. He patted Harry’s back softly. “Don’t let her get in your head, okay? Don’t fall for whatever she writes or whatever anyone says”.

“I bet most people will come back to their senses. They won’t fall for stupid lies again–” Draco threw a pointed glare at Ron– “like it should’ve been from the beginning. Even if some are dumb enough to not believe you, I hope they will leave you alone”.

Sirius’ eyes glinted with mischief and just a drop of promised danger. While Harry had written very little about Ron, he suspected Draco had tattled.

“You can always push stupid people to the right direction,” Sirius suggested, playing with his wand innocently. “How many jinxes do you know, Draco?”

“I could use the practice”. With a delicate turn of his wrist, Draco shot a trip jinx towards Ron. He yelped and almost fell.

“Stop it! Don’t encourage him,” Hermione scolded Sirius. Harry snorted and coughed to cover it up.

“I get it”, Ron mumbled. “I’m really sorry, Harry. Draco, I know I said some stuff to you too. Sorry”.

“It’s fine,” Harry accepted with a smile.

Draco huffed, but nodded at Ron. In the corner of his eye, Harry saw Sirius making faces and raising his wand threateningly at Ron. When he turned around, his godfather pretended innocence.

“I think you won’t want to leave Hogwarts for Christmas,” Sirius said with a secretive smirk.

“What? No. I want to go back with you,” Harry protested.

“Don’t worry, Harry. You’ll have a good time here".

He lowered his voice to remind them to be careful around Karkaroff and the Durmstrang students. With a last hug, Sirius said goodbye and promised to be back for the second task.

………

It seemed like the school decided to change their opinion after the first task. Not everyone was on Harry’s side, but the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws stopped scowling at him in the halls. Some of them started wearing the badges Draco made to show they were rooting for him. Seeing a huge and deadly dragon spitting fire at a fourteen year old had that effect on people.

With Ron back at his side, Harry felt like his world had shifted –not back to its place, but close enough–. He didn’t feel overwhelmed anymore. Remus wrote to congratulate him, as did the Weasleys and the Tonks. Harry went to his classes with a giant balloon of happiness floating in his chest.

Rita Skeeter wrote an article about the task. She mentioned Sirius Black was a bad guardian and an awful role model for Harry. She cited many instances when Sirius was very close to breaking the law before he went to Azkaban.

After it was published, Sirius wrote an extensive letter to Harry, retelling his adventures as funny memories and he mocked Skeeter’s inaccuracies. Luckily, the article didn’t have the bad impact of the previous one. Sirius’ reputation held strong, because most of the magical society still pitied him for his wrongful imprisonment. Harry ignored the papers and his happy balloon survived unshaken.

The second task was a mystery. Hearing the screeches coming out of the golden egg didn’t give any clues. Harry wanted to let the mystery of the egg rest at least until after winter break. 

Hermione and Draco were pushing very hard to figure it out, though. They thought the quicker they found what Harry had to prepare for, the better. Harry decided he would try once with them. If they didn’t get any leads, they would wait until after the holidays.

“I’m sure I heard something like this,” Draco said after they listened to the shrieks of the egg once more.

“I think so too, but I don’t know where”. Harry tried to force his brain, but he didn’t come up with anything. It was such a characteristic sound. Why didn’t he remember?

“That’s curious”. Hermione seemed lost in thought. “Ron, have you heard anything like it?”

“Percy singing in the shower”.

“Then it’s highly probable that you two heard the sound when you were together, without us,” Hermione glanced from Harry to Draco. “When could that have happened?”

She started listing places both of them had been together, and they denied every one.

“Not in Diagon Alley, not in the castle, not in the Quidditch pitch, not in the Forest…”

“Wait…”. Draco stared at the window, his gaze lost far away. “It was in the lake”.

“Yes!” Harry suddenly remembered. “It was when we found the diary in second year. We were flying and stopped close to the lake and then–”.

“The merpeople were shrieking. They were probably fighting about the diary. They threw it back to land”.

Hermione clapped happily. “So the shrieks are Mermish?”

Draco nodded.

“Great! Let’s go to the library”.

“Why?” Ron asked, baffled. “It’s impossible to learn Mermish out of books”.

Hermione glared at him, offended.

“As much as I hate to say this, I agree with Ronald,” Draco said. “It’s not possible to learn Mermish only with books and with so little time”.

“We have to find someone who speaks it,” Hermione decided, recovering from the insult to her dear books.

They all considered it for a moment. 

“Dumbledore does,” Draco said. “Not that he would help”.

Hermione huffed. “It’s not allowed that teachers or headteachers help the champions”.

“That’s bollocks. I’m sure Maxime and Karkaroff helped their champions,” Ron protested.

Harry agreed with Ron. Hagrid had taken Maxime to see the dragons and she had definitely warned Fleur Delacour. Karkaroff had been wandering in the forest. He had definitely seen them and warned Krum too. Harry was sure they would help them decipher their golden eggs. However, Dumbledore and the Hogwarts teachers weren’t helping Cedric or Harry.

Well, Moody had given him advice, but Harry wished to stay as far away from the man as possible. He had still not forgiven him for transforming Draco into a ferret.

“I’ll ask Daphne or Blaise,” Draco said.

Hermione gasped. “They can speak Mermish?”

“No, but if someone understands Mermish in Hogwarts, they might know who”.

“We’ll have to think how to convince them to help,” Harry said.

Draco shrugged. “My friends know many rumours too. We always could threaten– I mean, ask nicely,” he changed his words quickly when he noticed Hermione’s glare.

It turned out, Daphne Greengrass knew a seventh year Ravenclaw who spoke Mermish. She deduced quickly they were asking because of the Tournament, and agreed to introduce them. 

“I hope you don’t have to fight merpeople. Lauren learnt Mermish because she’s fascinated by them, she won’t like it if you have to hurt them”.

Lauren Walls, the seventh year Ravenclaw, wasn’t easily convinced to help.

“I don’t want to get involved in helping any champion”. She crossed her arms and looked down at Harry. “Especially not an underage student. You should not be participating”.

“That’s hardly my fault. I didn’t put my name in the goblet,” Harry said.

“Please, just help us to translate the message in the egg,” Hermione pleaded. “Or if you know a way to learn Mermish in a couple of months…”

“That’s not possible. Maybe if you get your head in the lake for eight hours every day, you could learn”.

“Maybe we could help you with something in exchange,” Draco offered.

The girl rolled her eyes. “No, thank you”.

“Well, maybe not translating, but could you give us some advice?” Daphne asked politely. “I have these Swiss chocolates my father sent me. I could share with you”.

Walls eyed them, calculating. “Fine. Only general advice. Are you trying to speak the language or understand a message?”

“Only understand,” Harry said.

“Then you don’t really need to learn Mermish. If the message is somehow recorded, you have to put the voices underwater and you should be able to figure it out on your own”.

Once they said goodbye to Lauren Walls, and Draco promised to buy the chocolates back for Daphne, they went to the lake. After holding the egg underwater, Harry realized the screeches changed into somehow understandable words. He submerged his head in the lake a few times until he memorized them. Under many of Hermione’s and Draco’s warming charms, Harry told them he had to find a way to breathe underwater for an hour.

“They will take something that I’ll miss the most and I’ll have an hour to get it back,” he repeated the words of the egg’s song.

Learning the message didn’t calm down Hermione. She insisted they spend their days in the library, researching ways Harry could breathe underwater. Dealing with schoolwork and reading in their free time, Harry was too busy to think about what Sirius said about Christmas in Hogwarts.

At least it was like that until Professor McGonagall informed the Gryffindors there would be a Yule Ball as part of the Tournament traditions. Only fourth year students and upperclassmen could attend, but they could invite someone younger as their partner. That was the main point of the ball. They could go with a date. In the champion’s case, it was mandatory.

“I don’t dance,” Harry tried to convince McGonagall to take pity on him.

“You will find a partner to open the dance with,” she said firmly. 

Once it was clear Harry couldn’t get out of the embarrassing dance, he moved on to the equally embarrassing task of asking someone to go with him. There was only one option in his mind. There was only one person he wanted to dance with, or endure embarrassing moments with, or go on a fancy date.

“I don’t know how to ask him,” Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione.

“Just ask him when you see him alone,” Hermione said. “The worst that could happen is that he says no. He’s your friend, he won’t hate you”.

“You should hurry up. He might find a date quickly,” Ron added.

“Why? Do you know if someone is going to ask him?” Harry tried to relax his frown. He knew Draco could get a date easily.

“No, but Slytherins will pair up quickly. I mean, rich pure-bloods go to balls and stuff like that all the time, right? They’re used to it. Plus, their parents might choose their partners”.

Ron’s words only meant Harry had more competition. Maybe Parkinson wanted to go with Draco as friends. Maybe Daphne Greengrass or any other of his girl friends fancied him. Or maybe the guys. No. Ron had told them traditional pure-bloods families were not accepting of same-sex couples… So maybe only Draco’s girl friends would try to ask him. Speaking of which, what would Draco think about going with Harry? He didn’t even know Harry liked guys. Or guys and girls. Or only Draco. He had to ask tactfully… but if he was too slow, someone could ask him first. It was such a headache.

………

Draco was used to attending fancy balls his parents or any of their rich friends organized. The Yule Ball would be different, though. For the first time, all his friends would be going, even the half-bloods, the muggle-borns and the Gryffindors.

The castle was being decorated with more care and taste than any year before. The magic in the walls hummed, proud and eager, and the halls were filled with gossip about who was going with who, which Pansy informed him in detail.

The Slytherins were calm on the exterior, but inside they dealt with a set of different expectations. The half-bloods knew they would be criticized about their choice, but it was also their chance to get a match good enough to improve their social status. The pure-bloods from conservative families, especially those part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, were expected to attend the dance with someone the family deemed worthy.

Millicent and Tracey had asked Pansy and Daphne to set them up, while Vince and Greg asked him for advice shyly.

Draco was reminded he had a role to play in the letters his parents sent him.

“The Yule Ball will have everyone in the magical community watching,” Father wrote. “Even the lesser ones will attend, watch and report back to their families. It’s your duty as my heir to represent our family, our blood, to show what a real wizard is. I know you have everything to succeed. My only worry is the friendships you insist on keeping. Draco, I ask you to choose a proper partner for the dance. Choose a witch from a family that is part of our close alliances, someone who will not bring you down. I know you understand our goals and you will choose cleverly. You can keep your lesser friends on the side if you want, but behave as we’ve taught you when you’re being watched. I know you won’t disappoint me”.

Attached to the letter Father sent a package full of shrunk robes. Those were magnificent dress robes Draco spent hours admiring. As much as he was upset at his father’s words, he had to recognize the man knew how to dress up. They were tempting, but he knew the gifts were attached to Father’s demands. It was insulting that his own father thought Draco would be so easily convinced to obey, like holding a candy in front of a child to make him walk.

Mother’s letter was on line with Father’s, but it was worded weirdly. Like she was trying to say something, but at the same time not.

“Your father and his friends have been meeting more these past weeks. Old memories and worries are coming up to the front of their minds. They are growing concerned about their reputation in each other’s eyes. That’s why your father insists you should choose someone from our circle as your date to a school ball. It’s just a dance, darling. Perhaps it is selfish of him to ask, and I’m not happy about this, but my advice is to choose someone that won’t ruin your father’s reputation. He’s in a delicate position, a bad choice could have repercussions on us as a family. Please, consider it. You can dance with whoever you want in other balls, but choose wisely your official date”.

Draco glowered at the letters. Once again, they were talking about traditions and alliances and obeying. He didn’t understand very well what Mother was trying to say, but he guessed Father and his so-called friends, all of them former Death Eaters, were going strong on their beliefs after the Cup incident.

It would be easy to attend the ball with Pansy. They were childhood friends, they were under the same expectations and they danced well together.

However, something stopped him. If he asked Pansy, Father would be proud. He would tell all his allies Draco was following his steps dutifully.

It would be an insult to his efforts to do as they said…but he didn’t want to ruin his father’s reputation completely. Something about Mother’s words of delicate situations and repercussions held him back from ignoring them.

How much could he get away with?

If Draco were to do what he really wanted, he would bring a boy as his date.

His mind came up with a blurry picture of him dancing with someone with messy black hair, someone almost the same height as him, someone who held him with firm but caring hands. Draco shook the picture away before the blush took over his face.

His imagination and his body were getting out of control lately. Since that time he saw dragons with Harry, he was feeling weird. He was too conscious whenever Harry stood too close, or when their fingers brushed, or when he laughed and his green eyes lightened up. Draco did his best to ignore those things. He dismissed them as the natural consequences of growing up. He was fourteen, it was normal he noticed attractive guys. He just wished he didn’t notice Harry so much. He didn’t want to make their friendship weird.

Back to his musings, attending the ball with a boy could be too much, too soon. He would be outing himself not only to the stuffy pure-blood society, but to absolutely everyone. Most of his friends didn’t know he was gay. Only Pansy and –maybe–Hermione knew.

He tried to imagine how his parents would react. They would hear through the grapevine and they wouldn’t believe it at first. Maybe Mother would faint. No, Father would be the one to faint. And he would rise up in anger and yell. Mother would be calm, but disappointed. It wasn’t a clever move, outing himself like that.

Would they disown him if they knew he was gay?

Draco knew it was a common practice to kick out whoever didn’t follow the mold. Like it happened to Sirius and Andromeda. Would his parents do the same as the Blacks?

Anyway, it was too soon to find out. He hoped he could talk his parents into mellowing their approach to blood supremacy and narrow-minded beliefs. He couldn’t do much away from them, but he was sure he could convince them with enough time. They cared about him, didn’t they? They loved him. They could change.

He didn’t want to provoke them so soon.

He would have to attend with a girl. Who, though? Draco could concede, but he wouldn’t submit completely. They had to understand they couldn’t control him. A muggle-born girl would be as bad a guy for them, or maybe worse. To keep a balance, he had to choose either a rich half-blood or a pure-blood girl but not from their ally families. He wouldn’t give them the pleasure to choose Pansy or Daphne.

“Draco!”

Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed someone approaching him. It was Hermione, carrying a lot of books. He put the letters back in his pocket.

“Do you have time to go to the library?”

Suppressing a heavy sigh, he followed her. Hours of research waited for him. Draco guessed he was easier to convince than Ron and Harry, who ran away whenever they could. He wrinkled his nose. Stupid Ronald. He hadn’t forgiven the traitorous git. 

They found an empty table close to a window. Draco turned around to look for books, but Hermione stopped him.

“Actually, I want to change the topic of our research today. To house elves,” she said timidly.

Draco sat down. “I gave you all the information I could get my hands on”.

“I read everything. I understand better how it works now. I still think we should do something to free them. Our society is so backwards in the matter of equality and rights for magical beings. House elves had gotten the worst of it, but did you know centaurs, giants and merpeople have been losing their living space during the last century too?”

“I know, but there’s not much you can do as a student”.

“It’s necessary to deal with that, but I’ll begin with house elves. I was thinking of starting an organization. We could call it the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. S.P.E.W., in short. We could start raising awareness until we get enough support to ask the Ministry to consider prohibiting ownership of elves and other magical beings. In a few years we could have everything ready to take that step. Right now, we could start freeing the elves here in the castle–”.

“That’s illegal, you know?” Someone interrupted them.

It was Pansy, who stood with a raised eyebrow directed at Hermione. Daphne was at her side, smiling in direct contrast to Pansy’s haughty sneer.

“Hi! Can we sit?” Daphne sat in front of them and Pansy followed her. “Draco, Pansy was looking for you. Were you talking about house-elves? Hermione, they won’t like it if you try to free them”.

“They’ve been brainwashed into slavery,” Hermione protested vehemently. “I now know the nature of their magic pushes them to take care of magical places, especially magical houses that have some level of sentiency, and they also like to form bonds with wizards and witches. However, the enslavement part is–”.

“Only their master can free them,” Draco chimed in. “In Hogwarts, it’s the headmaster. If you hand them clothes, you won’t achieve anything but insulting them”.

“We can go to Dumbledore,” Hermione said excitedly. “He’s a well known activist for magical beings rights. He will understand he has to free them”.

“The elves won’t like it. It’s useless”. Pansy stared bored at her nails and ignored Hermione's scowl. “Draco, can we go now?”

“That’s because wizards have conditioned them for centuries!”

“It’s true,” Daphne said softly. “If you want to help them, you should talk to them first”.

“I did. I went to the kitchens. They’re not listening to anything I say! Dobby was there and he was the only one who understood. The other ones, even Winky, treat him like a pariah for asking to be paid”.

Draco remembered his father telling their elves to hurt themselves as punishment. He used to curse them whenever he felt like it before his mother put a stop to it. Yet, every single one of their elves had shivered at the notion of being freed. The threat of clothes was worse for them than physical punishments. Except for Dobby.

While he wasn’t as invested as Hermione, Draco had done his research and had some ideas about why they feared freedom. He asked Pansy to wait for a moment and turned to Hermione.

“It’s true the goal should be to break the enslavement bond. But what would they do if you free them and there’s nothing for them outside what magical families offer? Even if you convince them to accept gold as payment, which they don’t like, they don’t have access to shops or services catered to them. I don’t know if they can buy a house or start a business legally”.

“Non-human magical beings can’t own property in wizarding land,” Pansy said, bored. “Sometimes even half-breeds have problems with that, but if they don’t have at least one human parent, it’s impossible to buy or rent. They can’t build if they’re close to muggle’s villages or if their residency takes space from a magical town that could expand”.

They all stared at her. Pansy rolled her eyes. “I know because my father called the aurors to kick out a family of centaurs that built a hut too close to our cottage in Wales”.

“House elves don’t have designated living areas like giants or centaurs. They only have the houses of the families they serve,” Draco added. “They fear freedom because they have nowhere else to go. If they’re free, they’re completely on their own. Without protections and weakened magic, they can die”.

“But we have to free them!” Hermione had tears forming in her eyes.

“You can’t force them to accept something they don’t see as beneficial," Daphne said. “You have to lessen their fear of freedom by granting them a safety net or the conditions so they’re protected enough to choose freedom”.

“That can only be done within the Ministry. It will take years! Decades!”

“In the meantime you could raise awareness, like you said. Not only with us, but with them,” Draco added. “You could start with simpler goals, like prohibiting violent punishments. It would be easier to convince the Wizengamot that cruelty is bad. Plus, house elves would support that. Once that’s done and a precedent is established, your organization can pursue the main goal of prohibiting slavery”.

Hermione frowned and stayed silent for a moment. “Okay. I hate that it will take so long, but okay. I’ll make a five-year-plan for S.P.E.W.”

“If you want to get somewhere, don’t call it that,” Pansy said with a fake-sweet voice. “It sounds disgusting. Nobody wants to be part of something with an ugly name”.

“That’s a superficial thought. The meaning is more important,” Hermione protested.

“Actually, Pansy is right. If you want support, you have to present your idea and your organization in an attractive way,” Daphne interceded. Pansy smiled at her.

“Fine,” Hermione huffed. “I’ll look for another name”.

“Great. Draco, can we talk now?” Pansy said, tapping her feet on the floor.

Draco followed her outside the library. He had a guess what she wanted to talk about. She proved him right when she faced him with a pout and crossed arms.

“I’ve been patiently waiting for you to ask me”.

He squared his shoulders. It would be hard to convince her without hurting her feelings.

………

“We have to hurry up or we’ll end up with a pair of trolls,” Ron said carelessly.

Hermione gave an outraged cry and snapped back, claiming Ron had only superficial thoughts about girls.

Harry agreed Ron was way too empty headed about the Yule Ball. It was not the first time he had mumbled something about getting a pretty girl as his date in front of an angry Hermione. There were many superficial people like him, though.

Three girls Harry had never talked to before had asked him to the ball. He had said no way too quickly to the first one, making her cry. He had instantly rejected the second one, and he had apologized and ran away from the third one, because she was too tall and intimidating. He was sure none of those girls would’ve looked at him if it weren’t because he was a champion and the Boy Who Lived.

He didn’t want to dance with people like them. He wanted Draco, but he was always busy in the library or surrounded by his friends. Hermione had forbidden him to ask Draco out while they were researching, and he feared her enough to wait for another time.

But time was passing. Winter Holidays were close.

In a stroke of luck, he found Draco walking with Crabbe and Goyle before dinner. It was not his whole Slytherin cohort, and Parkinson was not around.

It was great. Crabbe and Goyle looked imposing with their height, but they weren’t as aggressive with Harry as Parkinson was. He wouldn’t get a better chance.

With a quick excuse to his friends, Harry ran to the Slytherins and asked Draco to talk to him for a moment. Crabbe and Goyle went to the Great Hall, and Harry stood with Draco in a distant corner of the corridor.

“I was thinking about the ball… Did I tell you that an older girl asked me earlier?” Harry tried to start the talk in a casual way, like Sirius had suggested him to do in his letters.

“Really? Did you agree?”

“No”. Harry did his best to stop his fidgeting. “I was thinking I’d like to go with someone who knows me well, not someone who only likes my fame”.

Draco hummed, glancing around. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Harry decided he didn’t have the patience for subtlety. “Yes. Do you have a date?”

“Yes,” Draco said, unaware Harry felt like he had punched him. “So, who are you thinking–”.

“Who?” Harry interrupted him. 

“Susan Bones. Do you need–”.

“Why?” Harry interrupted him again. “Do–do you… fancy her?”

For half a second, Harry was sure he would be sick if Draco said yes. 

“What? No. It’s nothing like that,” Draco laughed as if the idea was ridiculous. Only then, Harry felt like he could breathe again. He didn’t need to curse Susan Bones.

A group of ravenclaws approached. Harry waited for them to pass while he tried to calm down the disappointment in his heart.

“Why?” He repeated.

Draco leaned closer and whispered his explanation. It was something about his family, and not agreeing with them but not being overtly contrary.

“Is going to be a statement,” Draco said proudly. “I’m showing that I don’t care about Father’s alliances or backwards beliefs. Susan's half-blood –I think because his mother’s half-blood too–, but the Bones were old pure-bloods and they are still very influential, so Father won’t be too angry. It’s like a strike to his pride, but not enough to make him crazy mad. Not howler-worthy, I hope”.

He kept his explanation going on and on. With a quiet sigh, Harry accepted he wouldn’t get a date with Draco. At least it wasn’t because Draco liked someone else. He was too focused on the effects of his machinations. He didn’t seem too fond of that girl.

After a couple of minutes, he stopped talking about his plots. “So, did you have someone in mind?”

Harry shrugged. If Draco wasn’t going with him, then he didn’t care. McGonagall said it was mandatory to open the dance, though.

“If you want someone that’s not clinging to your fame, maybe a friend?”

Harry pouted at his shoes. “Like who?”

“Hermione?” Draco hesitated and then added “Ron?”

“What? No!” Harry hadn’t considered either of them, but the answer was obvious. Both of them had been quite irritable about the ball. “I don’t want to get in the middle of their bickering”.

Draco chuckled, but agreed they would be insufferable if Harry chose one of them over the other. “Daphne already has a date, Pansy too”.

Harry would rather dance alone than with Pansy Parkinson. Draco snorted at his horrified face.

“Ginny? Or her friend Luna?”

“Hi, Harry! Draco! Did you call me?”

Both of them jumped. Ginny was right there, smiling at them. “Luna is not here, though”.

Harry blinked. Ginny was not bad. She liked Quidditch like her siblings and she knew Harry from years ago. They didn’t talk much, but she wasn’t mean or intimidating.

“Do you have a date for the ball?” Ginny was looking at Draco, using a soft voice and fluttering her eyelashes in a way Harry didn’t like at all. Did she need to blink that much? And she was leaning too close. Where was Parkinson when he needed her? With horror, Harry remembered that Ginny was a pure-blood, but from a family Lucius Malfoy hated. What if Draco decided to go with her instead of Bones, and then they danced together, and they fell in love and started dating?

“Ginny, do you want to go to the ball with me?” Harry interrupted them.

Ginny’s eyes grew huge and she blushed deep red. “What?”

“To the ball. With me,” Harry repeated.

“Oh. O-Okay,” she said in a high-pitched voice. “Okay. It’s fine. Okay. I–Ihavetogobye,” she said quickly and ran back to wherever she came from.

Well, it was done. Harry wouldn’t be going with the guy he fancied, but at least he was going with a friend. And keeping her away from Draco. It could be worse.

“I guess I’ll go too,” Harry mumbled, defeated.

Draco didn’t say anything. His mouth was relaxed and his eyebrows were delicately arched like always, but his eyes were different. Intense. He cleared his throat. “Do you like her?”

If he weren’t down because of the whole situation, Harry would’ve laughed. “No. She’s only a friend”.

Draco pursed his lips. “I think Ginevra likes you,” he said bluntly.

Harry let out a surprised chuckle. “I don’t think so”. It was more likely she fancied Draco, but Harry wouldn’t tell him that. “Anyway, she will hate me after the ball”.

“Why?”

“I don’t know how to dance,” Harry admitted. “The Dursleys never taught me”.

Draco sneered. “I hate those muggles. Sirius didn’t teach you?”

“Nope. Maybe he forgot. He doesn’t like doing the fancy pure-blood stuff. I guess I’m doomed to make a fool of myself in the opening dance”.

“I could teach you. If you want to,” Draco said softly.

Harry’s mouth was moving before his brain processed the words. “I’d love to”. 

Draco’s answering smile was blinding.

Chapter Text

Harry fell on his back in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, exhausted but laughing. Draco fell at his side and rolled to face him.

“You cheated”. Draco scrunched his nose with annoyance. The tip was pink because of the cold.

“I did not. It was a completely legal feint and dive”.

“Barely legal”.

Harry smirked. “Like the tricks you pull all the time?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

Draco rolled back to face the sky. His pink lips breathed small puffs of air, visible and warm in contrast to the freezing winter. His hair fell in a disarranged cloud. Some strands rested on his forehead, the longer locks were tangled in the ground, framing his head like a halo. Draco fixed his fringe, pouting and muttering complaints.

Harry stared at the way his hair caught the light. He knew all its shades by years of watching him. When it was sunny, Draco’s hair shone almost golden, like snow catching sunlight. Under the grey clouds, it was closer to platinum, reflecting stray sunbeams like a diamond. It wasn’t snowing yet, but soon it would be. Then, Draco would look like an ice-y prince, cold and beautiful in his element.

He was beautiful even with tousled hair and sweaty after their match.

Draco had his eyes closed, somehow ignoring Harry’s persistent gaze. “Despite your cheating, we still won”. A satisfied grin adorned his face. “Slytherin takes its rightful place at the top, like it should always be”.

It would be easy for Harry to lean closer, brush his hair away, and shut him up with a kiss.

There were people close, though. People who were talking, who made Draco open his eyes and look towards the noise.

“Draco! What are you doing laying there?” Crabbe walked to them, holding his broomstick and grinning. “We won! Let’s go to the dungeons and tell the others”.

“We can carry you if you’re too tired,” Goyle added.

Draco sat up and patted his clothes, dusting it off. “There’s no need. I can walk on my own. Where’s Pansy?”

“Fighting with Weasley,” Crabbe said.

“Great. Maybe she’ll hex him”.

Harry squinted. Ron was arguing loudly, gesturing to the Quaffle and then to Nott. Parkinson stood at Nott’s side, sneering. Nott had thrown the ball at a distracted Ron sometime during the match. Ron had barely avoided hitting his head, and the Slytherins had scored. Ron had complained about it then, and he wasn’t over it yet. Ron took a step closer to them. Parkinson waved her wand at his face.

“Draco. Tell her to stop”.

“I can’t tell her what to do”.

Before any of them did something, the twins diffused the imminent fight, joking with Ron and the Slytherins. Parkinson stomped away. Nott, who had been a quiet presence at her side during the whole thing, followed her in silence.

“Ron is right, you know? Nott aimed to hit him,” Harry said.

“If he weren’t distracted, he would’ve caught it. Ronald is a sore loser,” Draco tutted. “We should go before he comes here to yell at us”.

“Are you going already?” Harry complained.

Draco let out a pleased huff and sat more comfortably on the ground. He waved lazily at Crabbe and Goyle. “I’ll stay for a moment. We’re tired. I’ll catch up with you in the dungeons”.

Crabbe and Goyle went away, and Draco stayed with him. Harry didn’t hide his gleeful smile.

The Slytherins went back to the castle chatting cheerfully, even Parkinson and Nott. It had been a tough friendly match. As much as Harry didn’t like losing, he didn’t mind the Slytherins’ harmless gloating after they did their utmost just like the Gryffindors.

The Weasleys had played fiercely too, as they always did. Luckily, they weren’t all sore losers. The twins passed by their side snickering and unaffected by their defeat. They ruffled Harry’s hair, and failed to ruffle Draco’s, who evaded them expertly. Ginny was walking behind them, but stopped to say goodbye to Harry with a shy smile. She had been weirdly quiet around him, fidgeting and blushing like she used to do two years ago.

“Good game, Draco!” She said, forgetting her shyness when she turned to Draco. 

“You played well, Ginevra,” Draco drawled.

She giggled. “Why are you calling me Ginevra? It’s Ginny. Ginny”.

“It’s not my fault you were named Ginevra”.

She tilted her head to the side, her smile wavering a little. “Are you mad at me? You started calling Ron Ronald after you guys fought. Not that I blame you, he was an idiot, but now you’re calling me Ginevra…”

Draco seemed to consider his answer for a second too long. “You’re Ginevra when you try to get me off my broom”.

She immediately relaxed and grinned. “Funny, when you were the one actually shoving me”.

“It’s not my fault you flew too close”.

“I was only trying to get the Quaffle. You elbowed me!”

“And you kicked me”.

Ginny was awfully chatty with Draco. Harry narrowed his eyes. They kept bickering, ignoring him. Draco had played a little more… attack-oriented than usual. With Harry he had been teasing and competitive, but he had been more aggressive with the Weasleys. Most of the time, Ginny had been on the receiving end of shoves, hard elbows and Draco’s dirtiest tricks. Ron and the twins had warned him to back off, but Ginny yelled at them. She claimed she didn’t mind it, and said she was glad Draco didn’t treat her differently for being a girl. Not even a minute later, they had crashed fighting for the Quaffle.

Why was he suddenly interested in her? Did he think she flew better than Harry?

And she kept talking with Draco, unbothered by his sarcastic remarks that were getting a bit meaner than usual. Maybe she did like him.

Harry moved closer to Draco, until their arms were pushed together and brushed his fingertips.

“Don’t you have anywhere to go?” He said in what he hoped was a casual voice, his eyes fixed on the sky, because he knew his glare would be too obvious.

There was a pause.

“Right. My friends must be waiting,” Draco said, making a move to stand up.

“What? No”. Harry gripped his wrist, mortified. “I meant–”. I meant her to go, not you, his mind finished.

“Ginny, what are you doing?” Fred yelled. He grinned at them. “Are you guys flirting with our little sister?”

“Or is our little Ginny flirting with you?” George shouted. “Who do you like more, Gin?”

Ginny jumped, blushing and scowling at her brothers. “Sod off! I’m going”.

She muttered a goodbye and ran to kick the twins. They avoided her, laughing and teasing.

“I wasn’t flirting with her,” Harry said.

“Me neither. But it’s okay if you do,” Draco said, carefully inspecting the ground. “I mean, she’s your date to the ball”.

Harry huffed, annoyed. “I told you it’s not a date. I don’t see her like that”.

Draco’s lips twitched upwards, like fighting a smirk. “Okay. I get it”.

He stood up and offered a hand that Harry took. “I have to go. My friends must have gotten the food. I have to be there when we celebrate we finally beat you and the Weasley clan”.

Harry made a face at him. It didn’t weaken Draco’s smugness. “Fine. Don’t forget about tomorrow”.

“I won’t”.

Harry watched him go, his back turning smaller and smaller on his way to the castle.

Ron appeared at his side and clapped his shoulder. His face was still pink after the match and his fight with Parkinson and Nott. “Were you talking with Draco?”

“Yeah”.

“Are you still planning to dance with him tomorrow?”

“Yeah”. Harry didn’t know where Draco planned to teach him to dance, but he was happy to follow him wherever he wanted to. While he feared he would make a fool of himself, the promised closeness and alone time were enough to make him wish he was already there, with Draco in his arms.

Ron cleared his throat. “Did you tell Ginny what I told you?”

“What?”

His friend crossed his arms. “That you invited her to the Yule Ball only as a friend. And that you like someone else”.

“Doesn’t she already know that?”

“I told you she doesn’t”.

“I’ll tell her later,” Harry waved him off.

“You have to tell her. She– I know she– I don’t want her to get any wrong ideas”.

“Okay, okay”.

Ron hadn’t been happy when Ginny told him she was going with him to the Yule Ball. She was the one who broke the news, because Harry had been too busy moping about Draco going with someone else. Ron had complained and made Harry promise to not delude his sister. Harry didn’t know why Ginny would think they were going as something other than friends, but he agreed to remind her. He kept forgetting about it, though.

The last few days were busy. Hermione and Draco discovered the Bubble-Head Charm and insisted Harry tried it for the second task. Despite their best efforts, it seemed like he would never master it. It was a charm that required delicate control and constant attention to his magic. While Harry could cast the spell, he couldn’t keep it up for five minutes. An hour was impossible. If he lost control over it and the bubble disappeared underwater, he would be in trouble. Not only did he require air to re-cast the charm, but also he needed to do nonverbal magic for any spell to work underwater. Harry was unable to cast a simple “Lumos” without whispering the word.

Each day that passed Harry was tempted to follow one of Remus’ advice. In a letter filled with Sirius and the former teacher’s suggestions, there was one that didn’t require Harry learning incredibly advanced magic.

There was a plant called Gillyweed that would allow Harry to breathe underwater and develop gills for an hour or so. Remus had suggested it as a last resort, and Sirius had promised he could buy it and send it to him. Ron agreed it would be the easiest path, but Hermione insisted Harry at least tried to find another way. 

………

“I’d like you to remember I really don’t know how to do this,” Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You’ve told me a thousand times already”.

“So, don’t hold it against me”.

“I won’t”.

“Okay,” Harry took a deep breath and straightened his back. “What do I do?”

Draco pointed his wand at the old gramophone he borrowed for their practice. After a muttered spell, music filled the room.

“I’ll lead first to show you the basic movements. When you get those right, you’ll lead, okay?”

Harry nodded.

Draco held Harry’s right hand and put his own right on his lower middle back. Harry let out a shaky breath. Draco pretended not to hear, but his face heated up. He explained carefully how to move their feet with the rhythm, keeping his expression composed and his voice smooth, even though his heart was racing.

They swayed slowly. Draco counted the steps aloud. Harry was too busy staring at his feet frightfully, so he didn’t notice when Draco looked at their joined hands with wonder. 

He had pictured himself dancing with Harry more times that he could count since he offered to teach him. It wasn’t because of worry or anxiety about teaching his friend well, but a more selfish reason. Draco felt good when he was alone with Harry. He felt tingly, and warm, and delighted in a constant, comforting way. Whenever they touched or stood too close, it turned into something more intense, even demanding. It was thrilling, but it also provoked a rare wave of shyness and confusion. He had never felt like that before. He wanted more of it.

Draco snapped out of his traitorous thoughts and focused on teaching the dance. But teaching basic moves required a slow pace, boring repetitions, and parroting instructions he had drilled in his mind since he was a child. It let his mind wander again back to the most interesting being in the room.

Harry’s hair was messy, but it was really black and the contrast accentuated the angles of his face. His eyes traced his face, stopping briefly on his scar, his thick eyebrows, his straight nose, his mouth. His upper lip was slightly fuller. 

Not for the first time in the year, Draco questioned why his mind had chosen to fixate on Harry. He didn’t have the produced perfection of Gilderoy Lockhart, nor the natural chiseled beauty of Cedric Diggory. He wasn’t attractive in a buff and mysterious way like Viktor Krum either. And yet, Draco couldn’t take his eyes off Harry. He raised his vivid emerald eyes and caught him staring. Draco coughed and pointed out a fake mistake. Harry frowned and looked back at his feet.

He shouldn’t make it into a habit, staring at his friend. Draco wasn’t so naive. He knew he was behaving strangely, motivated by feelings he didn’t understand very well.

It was not only staring too much. He had also felt somehow wronged when Harry asked Ginny to the Yule Ball. It was weird, because he had already decided to go with Susan, yet he didn’t like it. When he imagined Harry and Ginny dancing, he felt a bit upset. He was not proud of it, but he had been meaner to Ginny because of it. It was unreasonable.

Maybe it was because he was used to being the favourite friend. Pansy always fought everyone so she could stay at his side. Theo always chose him to spend time with, over Pansy or anyone else. Vince and Greg were always together, but they always followed him. Draco wasn’t so sure with the Gryffindors, but Hermione had been his friend first and she always said loudly he was better company in the library. He knew Ron didn’t like him more than Harry or Hermione, but Ron wasn’t his favourite either, so he didn’t mind. He cared about Harry, though. He was special to Draco. So maybe it was a pride thing. Maybe he felt Ginny was being favoured over him, and that made him mad.

It didn’t explain his other feelings, though. The desire to be closer, getting lost in his face, the happiness when they were together… No. It definitely was a pride thing. It couldn’t be anything else. Because the other option was too problematic to even consider it.

Harry stepped on his foot, taking his thoughts back to the lesson. Draco stepped back in retaliation. Harry mumbled “sorry,” red with embarrassment. Draco decided not to make it worse and armed himself with patience. 

………

Their dancing lessons were scarce and spaced out during the beginning of the winter break. Harry improved enough to lead. He was getting better at moving with the rhythm, maybe not graceful, but not tense either. However, he was awful at calculating the distance. Every single time Harry led, Draco was pulled too close, unable to move his leg without touching his, their noses almost bumping into each other. He was dismayed to think Harry would hold Ginny like that. He made a point to remind him of proper distance between dance partners, but Harry always forgot when they practised.

There was a week left for the ball, and Ron didn’t have a partner yet. In a very pathetic moment, he asked Fleur Delacour in front of the whole school. Apparently, she had been using her veela charms trying to convince Cedric Diggory to ask her to the dance, and instead she got Ron. Ginny and Hermione had mocked him endlessly about it. Draco cheerfully repeated the gossip to Pansy. The next day, their whole year giggled at Ron’s embarrassment. In Draco’s mind, he deserved it. Ron proved him right that same day. Apparently, lacking a date, he had turned to Hermione as a last resource. He even said “You’re a girl,” the insensitive fool. Even worse, when Hermione told him she already had a date, Ron didn’t believe her and insisted she should go with him.

Of course, Draco was completely on Hermione’s side. She was a good, loyal friend, unlike Ron. Harry tried to stay out of their conflict, so Draco took the place to hear Hermione complaining about stupid boys and stupid Ron. Then, anger left her and she turned sad. Hermione told him how hurtful it was Ron didn’t consider her a girl until the last second, how she felt unseen whenever pretty girls like Parvati and Lavender were close, how Ron only confirmed her worse insecurities. Draco tried to comfort her the best way he could, fretting and unsure on what to say. He reminded her how someone had asked her, someone who wasn’t blind and ill-mannered like Ron. It wasn’t enough to stop her tears. Fortunately, Daphne joined them and she took over. She was infinitely better at girl talk, and soon she had Hermione back in high spirits. 

Draco took the petty approach of making sure everyone was partnered up and gloating up in Ron’s face. All the Gryffindors had found partners on their own, and Draco asked them about it loudly, cheering and clapping at their answers. Resented, Ron mumbled at least Neville was going alone too. In an hour, Draco paired up Neville and Luna Lovegood, then laughed at Ron’s horrified face.

Unfortunately, Daphne took pity on Ron and told him to ask Sally Smith. She could do better, but the poor girl agreed. At least Daphne, not so kind after hearing Hermione’s rightful complaints, threatened Ron to treat Sally right.

………

Harry opened his eyes on Christmas Day too early. Dobby was the one who scared him awake. The elf seemed happier than ever, well-fed, wearing clean but mismatched clothes he bought with his own money.

He had started working in Hogwarts that year. Harry had only visited Dobby once with Ron and Hermione. That time, he told them he found Winky after Crouch freed her, and the two of them asked the headmaster to hire them. Dumbledore agreed to pay Dobby and didn’t force a slavery bond like other wizards did. Winky didn’t want to be paid. Harry had told Dobby he could visit whenever he wanted to. That was why he appeared to greet him in Christmas’ morning.

He gave Harry a pair of socks as gifts. Harry improvised and gifted him a pair of ugly socks he had from years ago but never wore. Ron added a new pair he got from his own presents, plus a new jumper, which made Dobby tear up with happiness.

Already woken up, Harry went through his big pile of presents, bigger than any other previous Christmas. He not only had presents from his friends, but also from Sirius, Remus and the Tonks. It would never cease to amaze him how he was part of a family of his own.

He put the snacks and pastries he got from Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley in his nightstand’s drawer, ready for whenever he wanted to grab a bite. The dungbombs and joke products he got from Ron and Tonks went to the bottom of his trunk, carefully packed in a safe box. He placed the books on his trunk too. He got one about Quidditch teams from Hermione, one about household charms from Andromeda and Ted Tonks, and one about freshwater magical creatures from Remus. The magical pocket knife he got from Sirius went to the nightstand. It could be useful for the second task, like Remus’ book.

Draco’s present was very tournament-oriented too. It was a very expensive-looking belt holster for his wand, engraved with many anti-disarming runes. The dragon-hide belt had five tiny pockets, enchanted with undetectable expansive charms, perfect for carrying potion vials or any other magical item. Draco had added a note explaining how much weight the belt could carry, and wrote that McGonagall said he could wear it on the second task.

During breakfast, Harry was tackled by Draco. He pushed Ron aside to sit next to Harry, and started thanking him in a hushed but excited voice, over and over again. 

“What happened?” Hermione asked, curious.

Draco beamed. “This madman gave me miniature dragons for Yule!”

Ron and Hermione stared at them with eyes wide as saucers.

“They’re transfigured and charmed figures,” Harry corrected quickly. “In the first task Bagman gave each champion a tiny dragon. They’re perfect copies of the real ones and they move like real ones too. They can’t fly high, though”.

“You got them from the other champions?” Ron asked, peering at Krum in the Slytherin table.

Harry cleared his throat. “No”.

“Where did you get them from?” Draco asked, narrowing his eyes. Harry evaded his gaze.

“I wrote to Bagman… He told me how to contact the man who fabricated them for the Tournament… He said the ones for the tournament will lose their magic soon, so I asked him to make more durable ones for you”.

“The four from the tournament, plus an Ukrainian Ironbelly, an Hebridean Black, and an Antipodean Opaleye”. Draco’s eyes were impossibly shiny. The grey had never been clearer. Harry knew that because he had lost himself in those eyes an infinite amount of times.

“Crabbe and Goyle told me you liked the Hebridean Black and the Ukrainian Ironbelly when you were little, and I knew you like now the Antipodean Opaleye”. 

“You’re so…so… Merlin, I don’t have the words. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Draco hugged him tightly, placing his arms around his neck. Then, he leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek. It was so fast Harry almost missed it. Draco jumped out of his seat and said his goodbyes hurriedly, claiming he had to go back to the tiny dragons. Harry gaped at him until he left the Great Hall.

“Close your mouth, mate,” Ron snickered.

Harry did, and stared at his friends for an explanation.

Hermione was looking at him funny, half amused and half worried. “Oh, Harry. He really liked the present. It was so nice you added his favourite dragons too. Was it too expensive?”

“No,” he answered too fast. It wasn't expensive. Maybe a little. His other ideas, like a Firebolt, were more expensive. Sirius had banned him from buying jewelry, claiming it was too soon unless he wanted to start a formal courting. “He helped me a lot,” Harry said, defensively.

“Hermione helped you too. Where are her dragons?” Ron asked, happily munching on food.

She laughed. “I don’t mind. He got me very interesting books. I hope you didn’t spend so much on my presents, Harry”.

“He didn’t, because he doesn’t want to snog you,” Ron said. “At least Draco gave you a kiss. Not in the right place, but whatever”.

Harry threw a panicked glance around. “Shut up!”

Neville was sitting close, but he was too polite to listen in. At least Harry hoped so. Unfortunately, Angelina Jhonson and Alicia Spinett were close too.

“Oooh, how sweet. Harry has a crush,” they cooed.

“Harry? A crush? Who?” Fred appeared from their other side.

“Nobody,” Ron jumped in, looking guilty. 

The twins teased and teased, but Angelina took pity on him and sent them away.

They went back to the common room to rest. After lunch, the Weasleys organized a snowball fight outside. Hermione refused to participate, but sat close with a book. Ginny brought Luna to play with them. Harry dragged Draco, who complained about leaving his dragons alone.

“They’re not alive, you know?” Harry chuckled.

“Hush. How dare you. They’re my babies. Theo, please, keep an eye on them!”

The twins promised revenge after the last Quidditch match. Eyeing them warily, Draco asked Crabbe and Goyle to join. “For protection,” he told Harry. He tried to invite Parkinson too, but she refused and sat close, but not so close to Hermione, cheering for the Slytherins.

Crabbe and Goyle turned out to be decent team players, and they were good matches against the competitive twins. They all threw snow balls at each other for hours, shrieking and running and sometimes using magic. Draco convinced his friends to torture Ron, but Fred and George blocked them. 

Before the sun sat, Daphne Greengrass appeared and took Hermione and Parkinson away, claiming they needed to get ready for the ball.

“Who are you going with?” Ron yelled after them. Hermione only rolled her eyes and left, giggling with Daphne and a peacefully silent Parkinson.

“When did they get so close?” Harry wondered.

“Hermione and Daphne have always been friendly, but they bonded more after Ronald’s stupidity,” Draco answered happily.

“Hey!”

“Pansy likes the drama, so she’s grown a little more accepting of Hermione too. All thanks to our dear Ronald”.

Harry sighed. “You have to let it go”.

“Maybe one day. Not today, though. And I should go too”.

“Do you really need so much time to get ready?”

Draco tossed his hair to the side, distracting Harry from the snowball Luna threw at him. “Perfection takes time. Besides, I have to make sure Theo doesn’t bolt, he’s never liked balls. And Blaise and I promised to help these two blunderbusses. I’ll tell them and we’ll go with a bang”.

Cleaning his face from the snow, Harry saw Draco join Crabbe and Goyle in a last attack to the twins. They managed a brief advantage, but Ginny and Luna joined forces with them and the three Slytherins fell to the snow, defeated. The snowball fight slowed down after they went back to the castle. When the sun was half-hidden in the horizon, Harry, Luna and the Weasleys trailed back to the castle.

Ginny snuck Luna into the Gryffindor tower with Fred and George’s help.

“We’re getting ready together!” She said happily. “See– See you later, Harry!” She ran quickly to her room, hiding her red face and taking Luna with her. 

Ron turned to Harry with a frown. “Did you tell her?”

“I think so”. Maybe. Harry wasn’t sure. He hadn’t talked with Ginny very much.

………

Harry unpacked fancy bottle-green dress robes. Sirius and Remus had bought them for him. There was a letter attached he hadn’t noticed before.

“I would’ve chosen a bolder attire, but Remus told me it wasn’t really your style. I know you’re tired of hearing it, but this green will really bring out your eyes. Hope you like it!”

The fabric was soft, and the colour vibrant. There was magical embroidery moving on the fabric. Deer. Stags and does made of delicate, golden threads, trotted along the border of the robes or rested peacefully on the back. Harry touched the little figures softly. They let him pet them, and then pranced away.

Harry out on the robes. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he felt shocked. Harry had always felt like someone playing dress up when he wore fancy robes. But it was different at that moment. He felt like the clothes really belonged to him. Once he straightened his back, the robes flowed around him elegantly, not too big nor too small. He was ready.

Harry had never felt proud of his appearance, but it was the best he had ever looked. He liked it. If it weren’t for his messy hair, he would look like a really fancy bloke. Like someone that could stand at Draco’s side. He tried a tentative smile in the mirror. It didn’t ruin the outfit. It made him look a little more like himself. His smile grew bigger and more confident.

“Well, that’s just unfair,” Seamus protested, eyeing Harry’s robes. “Your robes look royal-quality. Where did you get them?”

“Talking about unfair,” Ron mumbled, fidgeting with his sleeves. He frowned at his second-hand robes. For weeks, everyone had heard him complain about them. A failed Severing Charm was unable to get rid of the lace. The fabric was age-worn and smelled moldy.

Dean, Seamus and Neville gestured wildly behind his back.

“It’s not so bad,” Neville tried shyly.

“Sod off,” Ron grunted. He stayed in an awful mood all the way down the stairs.

They met Ginny in the common room. She was wearing sky blue robes that were not new, but in a better state than Ron’s. When Harry greeted her with a polite “Hi, Ginny. You look good,” she turned red and her hello was lost in stuttering. He didn’t offer her his arm. Hermione was nowhere in sight. Ron grumbled something about meeting Sally Smith in the Great Hall, and the three of them walked together. 

There was a huge crowd waiting outside the Great Hall. Harry glanced around, trying to find Draco. The Hufflepuffs were already there, but Sally Smith gave Ron a horrified look and then acted like she didn’t see him. Susan Bones was there too. She hadn’t bothered waiting for Draco closer to the dungeons. Harry looked at her from head to toe. She wasn’t really pretty. With her hair ordered in careful waves and wearing jewelry, she looked average at best. Her pastel green robes were expensive-looking, but plain and boring. His own robes were better than hers. Draco could do so much better than her.

“What are you looking at?” Ginny asked. “You’re scowling”.

“Nothing”.

Harry realized he was letting his pettiness show, and took a deep breath. It wasn’t like that, with Susan Bones and Draco, he reminded himself. Harry shouldn’t think so meanly about her. There was no need. Draco didn’t like her like that.

“Harry,” Ron coughed. “He’s here”.

He knew who it was. He fixed a confident smile on his face and slowly turned around. 

There he was. Draco walked with his group of Slytherins, but they all faded in the background. They were only a colourful blur around Draco.

He was breathtaking. Harry literally felt the air escaping his lungs, and gaped in silence. Draco was wearing midnight blue robes, shiny with crystals that moved and rearranged themselves in different patterns, like stars forming constellations in the night sky. The robes were not the best part, of course. It was Draco himself, walking regally, glowing with a smug smirk, like he knew he looked good and was proud of it. His hair fell in beautiful waves around his sharp face. It was already chin length, and it was as brilliant as the crystals, if not more. Maybe he was wearing crystals in his hair too, Harry couldn’t tell the difference.

“Harry?” A tiny voice asked at his side, but he ignored it.

The prettiest grey eyes in the world locked on his. Draco’s smirk turned into a full smile directed only at Harry. His lips parted softly, brilliant teeth showed, and Harry swayed on his feet.

“Come on, Harry. Close your mouth, you’ll drool”. Ron hissed on his ear. “Breathe. Breathe”.

“What?” The tiny voice, Ginny, said at his other side.

Harry ignored her. He tried to compose his face into something that wasn’t pathetic. 

When Draco reached them, Harry was ready. 

He tried a confident smile. “You look amazing!” Maybe his voice was too eager.

“I know, but thanks”. Draco glanced at his robes and then back to his face. His cheeks were a soft pink. It made him lovelier. “You look quite good yourself”.

Harry breathed shakily. “Sirius chose the robes”.

“He did a perfect job. Maybe my cousin has some taste left”.

Ron coughed. “Hi, Draco!”

Draco rolled his eyes, ignored Ron, and turned to Ginny instead. “You look lovely, Ginevra”.

“Thanks,” she said, a bit dryly.

“Why are you making that face? Don’t worry, Harry won’t stomp on your feet. I taught him to dance properly”.

“Did you”. Her voice was totally flat.

Draco gave her a sweet smile and patted Harry’s shoulder once. “He would be hopeless otherwise”.

Harry saw something shining. “You’re wearing the brooches I gave you”.

“That’s right”. Draco showed the little brooch dragon and the snitch one. “These are perfect for the occasion. You always choose the loveliest presents. It’s a shame I couldn’t bring the little dragons. Oh, I see Susan over there. I have to–”.

“You can stay with us a little longer,” Harry pleaded.

Ginny turned to him, but he didn’t look down at whatever face she was making.

“Yeah, we missed you,” Ron added quickly.

“Oh. Why, Ronald,” Draco faced Ron for the first time. His face paled. “What are you wearing?”

Ron flushed and crossed his arms, while Harry whispered at Draco to lay off.

“No, no. I can’t let this happen”. Draco turned around and called his friends.

Harry realized they were already close, whispering among themselves. Parkinson was holding Nott’s arm. Neither of them looked too happy. Crabbe and Goyle were there too with Bullstrode and Davis. Zabini was holding an unknown girl’s hand.

Draco waved. “I need help with this!”

They all turned to them. Then, Parkinson and Zabini ran to them with their wands already out, showing twin horror-struck faces.

“How could this happen?” Zabini gasped.

“We have to– I hate you, Weasley, but we can’t let you do this to our eyes,” Parkinson said, already waving her wand.

“Back off! Harry, tell Draco to tell them to back off,” Ron shrieked, waving his arms around to keep them away.

“You should thank us,” Draco said. 

Harry tried to stop them, but they ignored him. They surrounded Ron, murmuring spells, and whispering strategies. After a couple of minutes, it was done.

“It’s the best we can do now.” Draco stepped aside and eyed his work.

“You should’ve told us beforehand,” Zabini complained.

Parkinson grumbled. “Now say thank you”. 

Ron glanced at his robes, baffled. The Slytherins had changed them from maroon to an impeccable black. They had disappeared the frilly lace perfectly. They had done something to make the robes better. They didn’t seem new, but not moldy or old or too short. The weird smell was gone too.

“Wow”. Ron’s delighted grin replaced his previous anger. “Thank you, guys”.

Parkinson and Zabini smirked and walked back to their group, clearly gloating on their success. 

“You should find Sally now,” Draco said. “There are the Hufflepuffs. Let’s go together, I have to find Susan”.

He smiled at Harry and Ginny once more, before going away.

Draco did a little perfect bow and held his hand in front of Bones. She and her friends giggled, but she took his hand and smiled. He said something that made her giggle more. Reading his lips, Harry guessed it was something like “You look beautiful”. Which was a lie. She wasn’t. Standing next to Draco, holding his arm, it was obvious how out of her league he was. How dare she stay at his side, smiling fakely and batting her eyelashes? Harry hated her. Ron stayed there too, standing awkwardly at Sally Smith’s side.

“Draco can be a gentleman when he wants to, can’t he?” Ginny wondered aloud.

“He’s only being polite. He doesn’t like her,” Harry answered immediately. 

There was a pause. Harry could not take his eyes away from him. It felt like a sin, to stop admiring someone so beautiful. The Slytherins joined Draco, exchanging quiet greetings with the Hufflepuffs. 

“You really are only looking at him,” Ginny mumbled.

Professor McGonagall opened the doors and called the champions and their partners. They formed a line, while the crowd walked into the Great Hall. Fleur Delacour had paired up with Roger Davis, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain. Cedric Diggory was whispering and giggling with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker. Unlike the blatant one-sided admiration of the first pair, Diggory and Chang acted like a real besotted couple. Viktor Krum joined them with a girl Harry didn’t know… Wait. It was Hermione! She looked completely different. Her curls were defined and framing her face elegantly, and her periwinkle blue robes gave her a dignified air.

Harry smiled at her and she beamed back.

“You look great!” Ginny said happily. Hermione complimented her back, and soon they were whispering until McGonagall interrupted them.

The six of them walked a small circle around the Great Hall, endured the crowd clapping, and then sat on the High Table with the teachers, headteachers and the judges. Harry noticed Bartemius Crouch wasn’t there, but Percy Weasley was.

Harry and Ginny sat next to Percy, who babbled about his promotion to Crouch’s personal assistant. He told them the man was ill, that letting go of his house elf Winky had taken a toll on him, and that he was writing letters with instructions all the time. Harry nodded politely, muttering praises and worried hums between spoons of food.

“Did something happen? You don’t look good, Gin,” Percy said gently.

For the first time in the night, Harry paid close attention to her. She was pouting and her eyes were downcast. She was pushing her food around her plate.

 “Nothing”. She let out a long sigh and started eating.

Harry tried to find Draco in the crowd, but the hall was full. The students sat at small circular tables without caring about houses. Harry couldn’t determine which table Draco had chosen.

Dumbledore said some words, and suddenly it was time for the opening dance.

Harry danced awkwardly with Ginny. He knew the basic steps and could follow the song well enough, but his heart wasn’t on it. He kept as much distance as he could with her. Ginny was a better dancer than him, but she didn’t seem very happy.

After the first song ended, everyone clapped. The teachers and brave students joined. The champions and their partners weren’t alone on the dancing floor anymore.

“Let’s sit,” Harry suggested, dropping Ginny’s hand.

“What?” Ginny grabbed his hand back. “I want to dance more”.

“But–”. Harry found Draco in the dancing crowd. He was twirling with Susan Bones flawlessly. Parkinson and Nott danced close to them.

“Okay, but let’s head over there”.

Ginny followed him and huffed when she saw who was there. They started dancing again. Harry did his best to focus on the movements and not only on Draco, but it was difficult. He was glad he didn’t seem too close to Bones. They whispered from time to time, but they kept a proper and friendly distance.

“Merlin. You are so obvious. I can’t believe I didn’t notice before,” Ginny grumbled.

“What?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You fancy Draco”.

“Hush”. Harry glanced around, but nobody was listening to them. The music was too loud. “Don’t say it so loud”.

Ginny groaned. “You don’t even deny it! Ugh. You should’ve told me before asking me as your date!”

“It wasn’t a date. It isn’t a date,” Harry corrected her. “I told you we were coming as friends”.

“But you!” She stomped her foot on the floor. Harry’s toes barely escaped being crushed. “You should’ve told me you are gay”.

“I don’t think I’m gay. I may be bisexual, I’m not sure how the veela thing works. But I only like Draco,” Harry mumbled. “And I didn’t have to tell you that”.

“I– I–”. Ginny looked down. The song ended, but she didn’t let go of his hand. Harry continued swaying with her awkwardly.

“You’re right. You didn’t have to tell me,” Ginny said. Her face changed from disappointment to determination. “I grew up admiring you. And I fancied you from the moment I met you”.

“What?” Harry’s steps faltered, but Ginny tightened her grip and helped him to steady himself.

“I liked you. Did you ever like me? At least consider it?”

“Er. No. Never. Sorry”.

“Ugh”. Ginny straightened her back. “Well. You were always close to Draco. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Are you together?”

Harry blushed. “No”. He glanced at Draco. He was still dancing with Susan Bones, laughing about something. “Not yet”.

“Wow. Okay”. Ginny turned them around so she could peer at Draco too. “I get it. I mean, he is really fit”.

“It’s not only that. He is smart, and kind, and elegant, loyal too, and he is funny–”.

“I know,” Ginny interrupted him, snickering. “He’s really understanding. He’s a good friend. Is he gay?”

“I don’t know”.

Ginny tilted her head to the side. “I fancy him a little too, you know?”

Harry stopped dancing. “What?” He glared down at her. Ginny had the gall to laugh in his face. “I mean, only a little. I liked you more. But, since you like another person so much, maybe I should move on to Draco”.

“You can’t”. Harry tried to put all the warning he could on his voice. 

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t like anyone yet, does he?”

“Back off!”

“Well, then. May the best person win,” Ginny said mockingly. She did a fake bow and walked away.

In front of Harry’s horrified face, she went right to Draco and said something. Draco looked at Harry. Then back at Ginny. He nodded. The song changed, Bones took a step back ,and suddenly Draco was dancing with Ginny. 

She smirked over his shoulder.

Harry decided he hated her too.

“Hello, Harry! Shall we dance?” Susan Bones asked cheerfully. 

Harry did not want to, but he couldn’t leave Draco dancing with Ginny. He took Bones’ hand with a clear goal in mind. He managed to close the distance. He and Bones danced right next to Draco and Ginny. They seemed to be having fun. There was no trace left of sarcastic-and-almost-too-mean Draco. Instead, he was twirling Ginny around and smiling.

“Should we change pairs?” Harry asked as soon as the song finished.

“Great idea!” Bones said.

To Harry’s horror, he stood in front of Pansy Parkinson. Bones was dancing with an awkward Nott and Ginny managed to keep Draco. She made a mocking face over his shoulder. Harry wished she wasn’t a Weasley so he could hex her.

“Oh, come on”. With a scowl, Parkinson took his hand and they danced. She complained during all the song, criticising his movements and his lack of class.

“I don’t want to dance with you either,” he grumbled.

Luckily, the song ended. Harry dropped her hand and she scoffed.

“We should switch,” Pansy said sweetly to the others. “Draco, I want to dance with you too”.

“Let’s all switch!” Bones said happily.

Pansy grabbed Draco, and Bones took Ginny’s hand, and Harry was suddenly standing in front of an equally horrified Nott.

“This is not happening,” he said. “What were they thinking? My father would kill me”.

“Oh, come on, Theo. Nobody’s looking,” Parkinson snickered. “Don’t be a killjoy”. She seemed very happy, dancing with Draco. They clearly knew how to do complicated choreographies together. He dipped her and she squealed.

“They can’t expect us to not mingle in an event like this. Besides, we already chose our partners well, didn’t we?” Draco said.

Glancing around, Harry noticed they were right. Most of the students were too busy dancing with their partners to notice any changes. Some guys were dancing together, and girls too. A couple of a Beauxbatons girl and a Hogwarts girl were kissing in a corner.

“Are you a coward?” Parkinson taunted.

“If I’m dancing with a guy, it won’t be you,” Nott said to Harry.

They stood in front of each other in discomfort until the song ended. Then, before Harry could do something else, Nott walked right to Draco. “Let’s get on with this so Pansy won’t bother us anymore”.

Draco gasped. He glanced around. His eyes found Harry. He smiled and turned back to Nott. “Of course, dear Theo. Just as friends, though”.

“Of course just as friends, Draco. Are you mad?”

Draco laughed and took Nott’s hand.

Harry let out an outraged squeak. Why did everyone suddenly want to dance with Draco? Did Nott like him too?

They were keeping distance, though. Their hands were barely touching. They swayed comfortably, and didn’t try any complicated moves.

Bones danced with Parkinson, both of them awkward at first and then they started giggling. Ginny had disappeared. Before Harry said anything, she was back with Luna and Neville. Ginny took Neville’s hand and Harry found himself dancing with Luna Lovegood. It wasn’t so bad. It was definitely better than Parkinson.

The song finished. Before Harry could see who paired up with who, Draco stepped right in front of him. Harry’s heart skipped a beat.

“Shall we?” Draco offered a tentative smile and a hand.

Harry immediately took it. “I’m leading,” he said in the most confident voice he could muster.

Draco took a step closer.

Harry held his lower back carefully. He pushed him a little closer, just like he did all the times they practised. He didn’t want any space between them.

“We’re too close,” Draco whispered. He didn’t make a move to get away. They danced just like that. A little too close, with short steps and their knees brushing.

“You were better keeping your distance with the girls”. Draco raised a curious eyebrow.

Harry hesitated. How to say what he wanted to say without being too obvious. “I feel closer to you than anyone else”.

Draco smiled. The song was over, but Harry didn’t let go of his hand.

………

Draco lost count of how many songs he danced with Harry. They took a little break to get some drinks, and then to check on Ron, but then Harry pulled him right back to the dance floor.

Sometime during the night, some pairs had turned into small groups. Susan had brought her Hufflepuff friends and a couple of Ravenclaws to dance in a small circle. Ginny and Luna joined, and, surprisingly, Pansy too. A little later, Millicent joined the group, and soon Tracey and Fay were there too.

The guys had formed a little circle too. Neville, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Kevin Entwhistle were there. Sometimes, one of them stepped in the center and did a difficult trick and everyone clapped. Sometimes, their circle mingled with the girls’. Draco wasn’t paying too much attention to them, but he noticed when Ginny and Michael Corner formed a pair and got away from everyone.

He was glad. Poor Ginny had looked bored and angry at Harry, but she was having fun after all. He felt surprisingly magnanimous towards her, once it was clear Harry didn’t pay attention to her. Draco smacked his head mentally. He couldn’t think like that. It was mean and unreasonable and not friend-like.

He couldn’t deny he was glad, though. Harry had been with him all the time since they started dancing. His hands never seemed to leave Draco. Even when the songs picked up the pace or turned slower, Harry touched him. Whether it was a hand on his shoulder, or on his elbow, or his waist, they were always in contact. And Harry was always too close, ignoring proper distance. Draco knew he could dance with enough space between himself and his partner. He had seen it. But Harry ignored it when he was with Draco. He didn’t know what to think of it.

From time to time, Draco had to look away from Harry. It was too much. He focused on his friends those times. As soon as he could, Theo had run away and sat at the tables with Vince and Greg. Sometimes they left their table to dance with Pansy, Millicent, Fay or Tracey.

Blaise danced with different girls and even a couple of guys, and then disappeared with one of them. Daphne danced all night with a Ravenclaw boy. Draco suspected they were dating, but he wasn’t sure. He threw worried glances at Pansy, but she was having fun with the other girls. 

They danced for hours. It was enough time that they tried a couple of complicated moves. Harry tried to dip him and Draco almost fell. He got him back to his feet laughing. Harry successfully lifted him once, but then the next time they fell. They bickered about it, blaming each other, and then laughed until their stomachs hurt. They stayed in the Great Hall until McGonagall kicked everyone out. 

Draco found his friends in the crowd and he joined them. Harry followed behind. “I don’t know where Ron is,” he said.

They all walked together commenting on the fun moments and the embarrassing ones and “Did you know Hannah Abbott danced with Vince once?” and “Longbottom danced with all the Hufflepuffs, the flirt” and “Did you see Daphne left to snog her boyfriend in the gardens?”

The latter one silenced Pansy. Draco didn’t know what to say, not that he could in front of everyone. They kept walking, until Theo said “Potter, isn’t that Granger?”

They all turned around and saw Hermione half-hiding behind an armor. Her robes gave her away. She was hunched over herself, maybe crying.

Harry rushed towards her.

“Well, keep walking”. Draco waved everyone away. Pansy stayed, surprisingly, and walked with him to Hermione.

Between tears, she told them about a fight she had with Ron. He had been angry because she went to the ball with Viktor Krum and yelled at her. She had yelled back she wasn’t going to be a last resort and they had parted ways fuming.

“Ron is an insensitive asshole,” Draco said.

Harry patted Hermione’s back silently. “He’s just… confused”.

“He is an oblivious asshole,” Pansy added. “He didn’t know what he wanted and he took it out on you. It’s not your fault”.

They all looked at her.

“What? It’s obvious Weasley is the worst of you Gryffindors. And Granger the best,” Pansy said.

Hermione sniffed and gave her a watery smile.

Draco beamed, proud of her.

“Well, let’s talk, Granger. I know you want to talk shit about your oblivious idiot. Potter here won’t be able to put up with it. I happen to be in the mood to talk shit about my oblivious idiot too”.

Draco widened his eyes and coughed. Pansy gave him a confident look. “It’s fine,” said her eyes. He nodded and left them alone.

Harry followed him.

He walked with him all the way to the dungeons, claiming he had to get him back safely. It was almost like a date. Draco bickered and laughed all the way down, trying to ignore the heat on his face. 

Chapter Text

The Yule Ball was an historic event, a magnificent, magical night that erased distance between people, that boosted love and made dreams real… At least it was like that for Harry. Not only had the ball exceeded his expectations, but he was sure he made progress with Draco.

Harry was the only one allowed so far into his personal space. He watched him dance with other people and it wasn’t the same. They had spent most of the night together. Draco laughed, and blushed, and looked so happy it made Harry dizzy. It meant something. Even if it was only the beginning, even if it was only a little, it had to mean something.

Harry was floating in a cloud of bliss. He only came back to earth (unwillingly) because of mundane problems like Ron and Hermione’s bickering.

His two friends were erratic. Some days, they tried too hard to get on well, forcefully ignoring their fight the night of the ball. They accompanied Harry, they studied together, practised spells together, and they asked politely to pass the salt, the quills or the books.

Other days, they threw passive-aggressive comments about consorting with enemies and treating women and friends badly. Usually it escalated until they were shouting. Those times, Hermione left in a hurry, red-faced and teary, and Ron stomped back to his room, where he tortured the small Krum figurine he had bought in the Quidditch World Cup. Harry was in the awkward middle, not wanting to hurt either of their feelings.

It got bad enough that the Slytherins forced an intervention. As another consequence of the Yule Ball, Pansy Parkinson unexpectedly bonded with Hermione. She was the one who offered to listen to her rants about Ron. Sometimes, Draco and Daphne Greengrass joined them. Sometimes Parkinson made it worse, adding fuel to the fire with harsh criticisms, and sometimes she made it better, patiently talking Hermione into understanding their differences.

After a couple of days, Draco teamed up with Daphne and they challenged Ron to a duel of chess. For each piece they lost, they were supposed to ask a question or address an issue, and the loser was supposed to apologize. It was a long, tense game that Harry fearfully witnessed. They talked more than played, Daphne interceded whenever Draco got too worked up. She kicked them out close to the end of the game, and worked her magic both on the chessboard and talking Ron into reason. The Slytherins won. Afterwards, Ron apologized to Hermione, and they got a tentative friendship back.

Because peace could never last long for them, the very next day Rita Skeeter published her articles. Her take on the Yule Ball was short. She was banned from the grounds unless there was a task or official interview, which meant she couldn’t attend. However, she wrote a long piece about Hagrid. She revealed he was the son of a giantess named Fridwulfa and a wizard, which meant he was a half-giant.

“I heard about it, but I forgot to tell you. He told Madame Maxime about it in the gardens during the ball. He said she was one too, but she denied it”. Ron leaned over Hermione’s shoulder and skimmed the article, frowning. “This is terrible”.

“It actually explains a lot,” Harry said. “I never knew why he’s so tall”.

“You don’t get it. This is huge. Hagrid will be fired”.

“I’m sure Dumbledore already knew. He won’t fire Hagrid,” Hermione said dismissively. “This is just Skeeter exaggerating everything”.

The article was outrageous. Skeeter included numerous mentions to giants that committed violent crimes, and she signaled how many of them had joined Voldemort in the First War. She even suggested Hagrid could be dangerous for the students because of his supposed violent nature. She also suggested he could be a spy that wanted to hurt Harry, and that he used a front to get closer to the Boy Who Lived.

“This is just like the discrimination over werewolves all over again,” Hermione complained. “Prejudices are really common in the magical world, aren’t they?”

Ron nodded sadly. “Still, most of us fear giants for a good reason. This won’t be good for him. Especially because she mentioned the giant's alliance with You-Know-Who and how Hagrid’s close with Harry. The board and the parents will want him fired”.

“But giants joined You-Know-Who because they were fighting against the former Ministry! Wizards were taking their land, pushing them back, and threatening to make it legal to hunt them! Of course they would join the other side,” Hermione protested loudly. “Many of You-Know-Who’s army was made of creatures that were discriminated against. Like werewolves. Their situation is not good right now and publishing stuff like this only makes it worse”.

“And Hagrid’s never hurt me,” Harry added. He hated Skeeter using his name to attack Hagrid. “He’s kind and noble. He would never put anyone in danger”.

“Did we forget Aragog and Fluffy?” Ron muttered.

Hagrid hid in his home for days, in fear of the amount of parents’ angry letters piling on Dumbledore’s office. Like Ron said, the parents were furious that a half-giant was teaching their kids. Even in Gryffindor there were whispers of fear and upset families. In Slytherin, the complaints were loud. Draco told Harry that all of his friends’ parents had sent letters, and his own father was pushing the board to fire Hagrid.

“My father says he has the majority of the board on his side. He also says that I should not approach Hagrid and to refuse to attend the lessons until he’s replaced,” Draco informed them. “He’s gloating, but Dumbledore won’t let him win”. 

They snuck out in the afternoon to visit Hagrid. He didn’t want to come out at first, but Dumbledore was there, and he opened the door for them. He informed them Hagrid had tried to quit. They joined forces to convince their half-giant friend to continue teaching. While most adults were upset, most of the students liked Hagrid’s classes. The headmaster reassured them the board would listen to him. Despite Lucius Malfoy’s claims, most people still trusted Dumbledore. 

The next week was tense in Care of Magical Creatures classes, but most of the students attended. It was lucky Hagrid was following the Ministry approved list of creatures to study. He always complained about it, but it was one of the few things helping his case.

They studied Nifflers, small creatures that loved brilliant objects and did their best to find and steal them. They were non-threatening and fun. Hagrid organized a small treasure hunt for the students and the Nifflers with Honeydukes chocolate as a prize. The winner was Ron, and he shared his chocolate with Harry and Hermione. It was a fun class that let everyone relax and forget about the horrible article. It showed Hagrid in a very different light that the violent one Skeeter wrote. Thankfully, the complaints diminished in a few days and Hagrid got his confidence back.

………

One day, Cedric Diggory cornered Harry in the hallways and asked him to talk. Harry followed the guy, noticing the looks some students gave them. While most of Hogwarts didn’t hate Harry anymore, Diggory was still the favourite. His friends were glaring darts at him.

They reached an empty alcove and stopped.

“How are you doing with the egg?” Diggory asked.

“I’m doing fine”. Could it be that Diggory wanted help to understand the riddle on his egg? Harry had warned him of the dragons because they were dangerous, but he wouldn’t say anything about the second task.

“Did you understand it?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Do you have a plan?”

Harry could not maintain the Bubble-Head Charm long enough for it to work. Each day he was leaning more and more on using the Gillyweed. He had already asked Sirius to buy it. “Yes,” he said.

Diggory smiled kindly. “I’m glad you’re doing okay, Harry. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask me. Good Luck!”

It was such a weird encounter, he told his friends about it. Hermione claimed Diggory might be trying to be noble, while Draco believed it was definitely a case of debt paying.

“He thinks he owes you,” Draco said. “He wants to pay you back. Maybe it's enhanced by his Hufflepuff noble spirit, but don’t forget Diggory’s a pure-blood. He understands the weight of unpaid debts. You should let him do something for you, to get him out of your back. Or you could save the favour for the third task”. 

Harry didn’t really care for trading favours. Diggory wasn’t dangerous. He could pay him later, or not pay him ever.

………

Draco helped the Gryffindors to prepare Harry for the second task. McGonagall had approved the use of the belt and any item the champion owned or made for himself. It allowed Harry to brew his own potions, under Draco’s strict supervision. It was during one of those that Ron started talking about Karkaroff. Apparently, he had pestered Mr. Weasley for more information, but the man didn’t know more than Sirius. Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, he was captured and he gave names to get his freedom back.

Ron was suspicious because he saw him too comfortable with Snape during the Yule Ball. He had seen the two of them wandering the gardens, where the teacher was looking for any students hiding in the bushes.

“He called him by his name, and he was trying to convince Snape that something was getting stronger. Karkaroff was scared. Snape ignored most of his talk, he was too busy ruining the couples’ fun, but he seemed to know what they were talking about”.

It matched what Sirius said before. There were rumours of something dark, maybe Voldemort, getting stronger wherever he was. Sirius thought it was related to whoever was trying to kill Harry in the Tournament. But Dumbledore had said Voldemort was in Albania, back during their second year. Could it be him? Or, more possibly, one of his followers?

“Maybe it’s time I ask my parents about it,” Draco suggested. It was not something he wanted to do. After his disobedient acts in summer and during school months, they would not be open to answer his questions. Still, he had to try.

Writing and sending the letters was not hard. Getting their answers was the issue. He was scolded for his lack of answers, and scolded again for his choices at the ball, and no real information was given about Karkaroff or about dark forces doing something behind everyone’s backs.

Draco walked into his dorm, considering whether to burn the parchments or try again. He stepped in and saw there was only one person there. Theo, who waved his wand over his finger, muttering until a drop of blood fell into a piece of parchment. A letter. Draco stepped in quickly and healed his friend’s finger with a whisper. Mother had taught him basic healing spells during summer. While he couldn’t mend large bones yet, healing scratches was easy.

Theo watched his healed finger with the bored air of someone used to it.

“Perfect cast,” he drawled. “I could’ve done it myself”.

“What is he asking?” Draco knew there was only one person who would ask Theo to sign a letter with blood. His father.

“He wants to know if you infected me with your stupidity. He heard about the ball and asked me bluntly if I was fooling around with you. I swore that’s not happening”.

Draco bristled. “It was one dance. One dance and he asks you to sign with blood?”

“He can use the blood to make sure I’m telling the truth. You know how traditional he is. Those things matter to our families. I’m surprised your parents didn’t ask you about Potter”.

His father had not asked, but he had drawn his own conclusions. He had sent tons of letters since Draco asked Bones to attend together. He had read only the first bunch, all of those criticizing his choice and insisting he was on time to change to a more proper date. Draco ignored all of it.

After the ball, Father sent a stern letter, chastising his behaviour and reminding him of his duties and rules. He accepted that Bones wasn’t so bad, and dancing with Pansy was good. However, he was horrified that Draco was seen as too friendly with a Weasley and Harry Potter.

“I’ve allowed you to keep your friendships in the place they belong to, but you insist on bringing them to visible places you ought to keep to our alliances. Potter was bad enough, but a Weasley, Draco! How could you dirt your reputation like that? I have been understanding about your rebellious phase, and yet you rub your foolish choices in my face. I know you are doing it only to upset me and your mother. I expect you to know better. These actions will not go unpunished”.

The letter answering his questions was more of the same. It only added “If you had shown more interest in my alliances, then maybe I’d feel more inclined to share with you more information about my old acquaintance. I will not indulge you when your head is not in the right place”.

Despite the clear disapproval, Draco wasn’t worried. If the punishment was anything like summer, then it would be spending large amounts of time alone and in the house, or going into events he disliked. Maybe, if he was really mad, Father would give him the silent treatment again. 

Watching Theo, Draco was once again reminded he really had it easier than most of his friends. He wished Theo’s father wouldn’t punish him. That word had a different, harsher meaning coming from Mr. Nott than from Lucius Malfoy. 

“Is he really angry?” Draco asked, playing with his blanket. He risked a glance.

Theo wasn’t looking back. He sealed his parchment with a satisfied huff, and relaxed on his chair. “Not so much. It’s you, so he won’t punish me as long as I tell the truth. Don’t worry. I wonder who was bored enough to keep track of our dancing partners”.

“If I discover who it was, I’ll hex them”.

“Count me on that one”.

“Did they snitch on Pansy too?”

“I don’t think she got any letters about it. Either the snitch didn’t talk about her or they did and her parents didn’t care”.

Draco let out a sigh. “Thank Merlin. Vince and Greg?”

“Nothing. They chose good partners and that was it, no matter if they danced or not afterwards”.

“Good”.

Draco stared at his letters while Theo muttered to himself, ordering his desk.

Mother’s letter was the shortest, simplest one, because she had talked to him before. Unlike his father, Draco couldn’t ignore her.

Mother had called him once before the ball and once after. They didn’t use their two-way mirror much, but Draco always had it ready. She had been softer when asking before the ball, though her questions revealed a different interest than his father’s.

“Do you really want to attend the ball with the Bones girl?”, “Do you know who her family are?”, “Do you prefer her over Pansy?”, “Do you fancy her?”, “Do you want to start an official courting?”

Draco had answered dutifully, but bored. He emphasized he didn’t see Susan Bones like anything else than an ally and maybe a friend. He said a firm negative to the courting. He wondered if she was testing the waters for a future arrangement. He doubted it. Her voice had been supportive, not pushy. 

In her call after the ball, she suggested he spend more time with the children of family friends in public places. “It’s important to give our allies the importance they deserve,” she told him. “Tempestuous times might come soon. Our alliances are our strength, Draco. Do keep expanding your net, but prioritize the older and powerful over the novelty of your recent acquisitions. If possible, you could write to Flint? No? Maybe reinforce your bonds with your Quidditch teammates. Spend your time wisely, dear”.

She had been mentioning that a lot. About alliances and priorities. Draco wondered if she would ever say something not cryptic. However, the part about tempestuous times was familiar. Hadn’t Karkaroff said something like that to Professor Snape?

He decided to call her. Her story about Karkaroff was the same everyone knew.

“Do you know something that could bring trouble in the future?” He asked her directly.

“Did you hear something at school, darling?”

He considered lying, but Draco knew she would figure it out instantly. “My friends did”.

“Then you must tell them that it’s nothing that we are sure about. There are rumours and bad feelings in our community. Your father and I are as worried about them as everyone else. Tell them to ask around. I’m sure someone in their circle must have more information. I suggest you do not get too involved in Potter’s inquiries about this particular issue”.

Draco squinted at her face, unreadable through the mirror. “Is there something you know that I must not tell them?”

“Oh, darling,” she sighed. “I taught you to be subtle”.

“Mum–”

“And to read between lines”. She refused to answer anything else.

He copied what he remembered and showed it to the Gryffindors, but they couldn’t get something clear out of it either. He asked Pansy and Theo to ask their families, remarking they shouldn’t insist or anger them. They agreed in exchange for small favours like tutoring, help on their homework and sharing his polished notes. He didn’t ask Vince or Greg. As much as they were his friends too, they weren’t very subtle and they could get in trouble.

………

The day of the second task, Harry woke up early. Yawning, he stretched and did the exercises Remus suggested to prepare for swimming. He took a quick shower and dressed fighting the jitters. He had a plan to follow. He fastened the wand holster belt Draco gifted him and filled its small pockets with useful stuff: Sirius’ pocket knife, two fistfuls of Gillyweed, a potion to elevate the body temperature and one to recover stamina.

Once he was ready, he met Ron in the common room. Hermione wasn’t around. They went down to get breakfast, hoping to meet her in the Great Hall.

The atmosphere was more friendly than the first task. Many excited students came up to wish Harry luck. Everyone at the Gryffindor table clapped when he sat down to eat. Thankfully, Ron and his siblings helped to keep annoying people away. It was nice having them there. Harry was nervous, but he felt more prepared to get into the lake than he was to face dragons. The only uncertain thing was the item he had to retrieve. It wouldn’t be so hard to swim carrying his Firebolt or anything smaller if the Gillyweed worked as it was supposed to.

Harry was eating his scrambled eggs when he noticed Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott waving at him from the door. Maybe Draco told them to call him. He gulped down his breakfast and jogged towards them with Ron at his side.

“Have you seen Draco?” Parkinson asked without preamble. “We haven’t seen him since last night”.

“What?” Her worried face gave him a chill. The last time Draco went missing… No. It couldn’t be.

“Last night Professor Snape took him away, but he never came back to the dorm. I stayed awake late and I didn’t see him,” Theodore Nott said. “I asked Snape today, but he didn’t know”.

“Snape kidnapped Draco?” Ron gasped.

“Of course not”. Nott glared at him. “Do you think something happened to him?”

Parkinson scanned the crowd in the Great Hall. She was really pale. “I hope not. And just before the task…”

“Oh,” Daphne joined her hands. “Wasn’t your second task to get something back from the merpeople in the lake, Harry?”

“Yes…Did we tell you that?”

“I figured it out.” She waved a hand dismissively. “They might have taken Draco!”

“What? Can they do that?” Harry’s breathing became laboured. Draco was down there! Did he know how to swim? What if the merpeople had hurt him? He had to save him, he had to see he was okay. He made a move to run, but someone held him back. That someone shook him. He blinked back and saw the Slytherins frowning next to a worried Ron.

“Focus, Potter. If it’s part of the Tournament, the Ministry won’t let other people get hurt. Only the champions signed up, not their friends. What did the egg say?” Parkinson asked.

Harry breathed deeply. “I have to get what they stole from me in an hour”.

“Did it say what they stole?”

“What I'll miss the most…” Harry’s voice grew quieter at the end. He felt his cheeks on fire. “That’s so romantic!” Daphne squealed.

“It’s because Draco’s my friend!” Harry didn’t care about anyone else learning about his feelings, but he definitely didn’t want the Slytherins to know. They would tell Draco. Or worse, they could get in his way on purpose.

Parkinson sniffed haughtingly. “I hope it’s just friendship”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry glared at her and she glowered back.

“You got him in danger because of your stupid task”. Nott raised his wand threateningly. “If you don’t get him out fast, I swear I’ll curse you”.

“We will curse you,” Parkinson added.

“Come on, guys. Of course Harry will save Draco,” Daphne giggled. “Oh, this is so cute! I have to pay the Creevey boy to take pictures”.

“Wait”. Ron looked around. “Hermione isn’t here either. Did they take her too?”

Everyone stared at each other.

“Could she be at the library?” Nott asked, pocketing his wand.

“Not before Harry’s task! We already have a plan and everything”. Ron passed a hand through his hair. “Do you think Harry has to save two people?”

“Even with security measures, it would be too dangerous for the champions to carry two people each,” Daphne said.

“Then why did they take Hermione?” Ron threw a distressed glance around the Hall.

“I think Chang isn’t here either,” Parkinson said, squinting. “She is dating Cedric Diggory. They went together to the ball. She must be his hostage”.

“Then maybe Hermione is what Viktor Krum will miss the most!” Daphne squealed. “This is great!”

Ron didn’t look pleased. Instead, he looked angry. Daphne’s smile died down. “Don’t put on that face. This is hardly Hermione’s fault”.

“Whatever. I don’t care. Potter, you better save Draco,” Nott said. “Weasley, this is not the time for your petty antics”.

Surprisingly, Ron didn’t fight Nott. The Slytherins left and Ron took a deep breath. “Let’s go back to the plan. Hermione wanted you to repeat it once more”.

Professor McGonagall called everyone to follow her. Harry walked all the way to the lake with determination, tightening his grip on his wand. He barely registered Sirius and Remus on the stands with the students. He waved at them with a tiny smile and focused on the dark waters of the lake.

The judges were already there, sitting at a gold-draped table on a wooden platform at the water’s edge. They called the champions. Percy was there instead of Crouch again. Harry followed their instructions mechanically. He stood in line with the other champions.

Ludo Bagman announced they had to get back what had been taken from them in an hour. A whistle echoed in the cold air. The crowd cheered and clapped. Harry didn’t look at the other champions. He swallowed a fistful of Gillyweed and dived into the water.

Harry advanced through the murky water with only one thought on his mind. He had to save Draco. Not because his friends had threatened him to do it, but because he wanted to, he needed to get him back. He kept moving, barely paying attention to the gills that allowed him to breathe underwater, barely minding the webbing that grew between his fingers and his toes that allowed him to move easier. His glasses were on his belt and yet he could see, another effect of the Gillyweed. 

He glanced at his surroundings, ready to avoid the giant squid or any other dangerous creatures. Despite his precautions, he had to fight a group of Grindylows that tried to attack him. Fortunately, Remus had told him he could expect those ugly creatures underwater and told him how to deal with them. They were weak individually, but in group they could be an issue. Harry swam upwards, rolled and got rid of most of them, then hit the few ones that had grabbed him.

He was a bit confused after the ordeal, but he followed his instincts and didn’t stop swimming. After some time, Harry heard voices. A mer-song.

He sped on and followed the voices. Small stone dwellings appeared, at first spaced out, then closer. Merpeople were everywhere, some of them looking curiously, others guarding the path that led to a giant statue of a merperson.

In the village square there was a choir of merpeople singing to call the champions. There were four hostages tied to the tail of the statue, surrounded by armed merpeople. The hostages were a little blonde girl who was clearly related to Fleur Delacour, Hermione was there because of Krum, Cho Chang was Diggory’s, and Draco…Draco was his.

He looked beautiful even underwater. For a second, everything disappeared and Harry stopped to admire him. His face was relaxed and soft in his sleep, but he was also pale. His cheeks lacked their usual rosy tint. 

Harry swam waving his wand, ready to fight, but the merpeople let him approach without stopping him. Harry touched Draco’s soft cheek. He was cold. Maybe too cold. He searched for his wrist to find the pulse. It was there, stable and firm. He was fine. The major risk was hypothermia, but he had a potion for that… Could Draco drink underwater? Maybe not. He had to pull him to the surface first. 

Harry pulled Sirius’ pocket knife out of his belt and cut the cords tying Draco. He did it slowly, careful to not hurt him. Once Draco was free, Harry held him close. Before swimming up, he hesitated. Hermione was still there. How much time had passed? What would happen to the hostages if their champions didn’t get there? He wanted to stay and help them, but Draco was so cold…

He tried freeing Hermione too, but the closest merman didn’t let him. It would take time to fight him or convince him.

Harry made a choice.

………

Draco opened his eyes. He could breathe, but there was water on his hair, his lashes, everywhere. His body was still submerged. Someone was side-hugging him, keeping him afloat.

“Draco, are you okay? Can you swim?”

“Yes,” he coughed.

He cleaned his face the best he could. Harry was there. Harry had saved him. Draco knew he would do it. As soon as Dumbledore told him he was Harry’s hostage, he knew he would be okay. And what a revelation it had been. He was what Harry would miss the most. He shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as had.

Harry’s black hair was soaked, glued to his head. His green eyes were only looking at him, intense, determined, slightly worried. Draco’s stomach jumped, giddy. He covered it with a smile. Harry smiled back, but the worry was still there. “Drink this”.

Draco did, without hesitation. He tasted a potion. The one for his temperature.

“It was for you,” he complained weakly.

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re more important”.

It was unfair for him to say that, staring with those eyes without glasses that weakened their glow, and using that voice, deeper than usual. Harry shook his head, drops of water fell everywhere. His hair was messier than ever. He was lovely. Draco’s heart was beating so fast it almost hurt.

The crowd cheered. Ludo Bagman yelled happily about the first champion coming back with his hostage. The judges seemed relieved. Percy Weasley stood up to look at them better and shrieked instructions to Madam Pomfrey, who ignored him. Dumbledore was smiling. Fleur Delacour was close to them, wrapped in blankets. Madam Pomfrey was casting spells over her. She was alone, shivering and crying. Her hostage was nowhere on sight. Had she failed to bring her back?

“Ron!” Harry shouted. Draco winced and covered his ears. “Parkinson! Nott!”

Draco saw Pansy, Theo and Ron answer to Harry’s call. Vince and Greg helped them get over the teachers securing the stands, and the three ran to the border of the platform. 

“Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?” Harry asked again.

“No. I’m fine”.

Draco felt a grip on his waist tightening. “Wait–”

Before he could say anything else, Harry lifted him right to Pansy’s extended hands. He let out a very manly squeak. She caught him. Ron and Theo helped him to climb to the platform.

“Make sure he’s warm. I gave him a potion, but we don’t know if it’s enough. Check him for injuries,” Harry ordered.

For once, Pansy didn’t complain. She nodded in silence. She took her coat off and put it on Draco. Theo did the same.

Harry, still in the water, glanced at Delacour, then back at him. He gave a gentle squeeze to Draco’s fingers. “I’ll be back”.

“Wait!”

Harry smirked. He pulled two things out of the belt. The back-up fistful of Gillyweed and the vial of strengthening potion.

“Harry! You don’t need to!”

Harry ate the Gillyweed for a second time, drank the potion and dived down on the water.

“He’s such a fool”. Theo drawled. There was the tiniest bit of emotion on his voice when he checked Draco’s wrists. “I’m glad you’re fine”.

Ron toweled his hair strongly. “Harry wouldn’t have let anyone hurt him”.

“Stop it! You’ll ruin his hair!” Pansy protested. “Draco, darling, we’re so happy Potter did his job well”.

Madam Pomfrey approached them and shooed his friends away. McGonagall appeared and dragged them back to the stands. Pomfrey gave him a potion, more towels and casted warming charms all around him.

Stupid Harry, Draco thought. Stupid, noble, heroic Harry. He could’ve stayed with him, but of course he would go back for the other hostages. 

Hardly a minute later, Cedric Diggory swam out of the water with Cho Chang. He lifted her to the platform gently, and called Madam Pomfrey. They stayed together, hugging and watching the lake calmly, whispering between drinks of their potion.

Draco felt a sudden wave of jealousy. If Harry had stayed, they could’ve waited for the others together like Diggory and Chang. He wanted to talk to him too. He had to tell him that he was an idiot, that he did so well in the task, and that if Draco were a champion, Harry would’ve been his hostage too. How dare he leave him alone?

When Madam Pomfrey stopped fussing and left them alone, Diggory kissed Chang quickly, smiling with his whole face. She was glowing with happiness, her eyes sparkling and her lips curved shyly. Diggory kissed her temple next and she hid her face on his shoulder, giggling.

The jealousy only increased. If Harry had stayed, they could’ve done that too. Draco jolted a second after the thought.

What?

Did he want to–?

Oh.

A shark’s head broke the surface of the water, then turned into Krum’s head. Hermione was next to him, coughing and spluttering. The shouts from the crowd grew wilder. They climbed the platform together and Pomfrey fretted over them, casting spells and giving them blankets and potions.

Some girls were shrieking at Hermione. Draco made a face at her. She was red because of the attention.

A loud splash caught Draco’s attention. Harry appeared again, this time with Delacour’s sister. A small group of merpeople emerged behind them, singing horribly out of the water.

Madam Pomfrey and an hysteric Fleur Delacour helped the little girl climb. Draco offered his hand and Harry took it.

“Did you see? Did I do it well?” He was smiling. He smiled a lot when he talked to Draco. 

Harry sat next to him and let Madam Pomfrey take care of him. He didn’t hug Draco, though. He didn’t kiss him either. Draco wanted him to do it.

His traitorous heart skipped many beats.

I like Harry, he realized. Not only as a friend. I really like him in a romantic, unreasonable way.

Chapter Text

The merpeople that rose to the surface after Harry stopped singing once Dumbledore leaned over to the lake. The leader communicated with him. It was surprising to see the headmaster making the same shrieks as the merpeople. He spoke mermish until he seemed satisfied with the information he got. He returned to the judges and discussed briefly with them.

While the judges talked, Fleur Delacour thanked Harry profusely for going back for her sister.

“You saved her! Even though you didn’t need to! Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said with her accent stronger than ever. She kissed him on his two cheeks quickly and took a step back when someone cleared his throat loudly.

Draco, who had been quiet and distant until then, suddenly appeared at Harry’s side. He sneered and hissed some words in French to Fleur, who arched an eyebrow and replied elegantly. Even if Harry didn’t understand a single word, he decided he could stand there and listen to Draco talking all day. His voice was velvety soft, even if he seemed upset. Fleur giggled and Draco, who was turning a soft pink, dropped his voice to a musical whisper that she answered with more laughter.

Harry frowned. Why were they giggling together? If she were so grateful as she claimed, she should leave them alone. He glared daggers and she immediately noticed. If possible, her smile turned even more brilliant, and maybe a little evil.

“No problem,” she said happily. “You can call me Fleur too, Draco. Goodbye, boys!” She waved and went back to her little sister.

“What were you talking about?” Harry asked.

Draco glanced at him, the pink on his cheeks turned darker, and looked away.

“Did you know she really has some Veela blood? One of her grandmothers was one. She was doomed from the start of this task. Veelas don’t do very well underwater”.

“I knew about her grandmother. She said it back when Ollivander checked our wands”. Harry squinted. He had never seen Draco so fidgety. “You’re acting weird. Was she using her powers on you?”

“Her powers don’t work on me,” Draco blurted out. His eyes opened wide and he turned around.

“What–?”

“Please don’t ask. Merlin, what am I doing?” He mumbled the last part. He waved to Hermione, who was at Krum’s side. She walked to them in a hurry, fussing over Draco and then turning to Harry, like she had been waiting to do it. Krum followed her and stopped at her side, frowning.

Ludo Bagman said “Sonorus” and his voice resonated over the lake. Cheerfully, he announced the points of the task. Fleur was in fourth place with 25 points, Krum in third with 40, Diggory in second with 43 and Harry first with 47. Overall, Harry was placed first in the Tournament.

The great majority of the judges considered rescuing Gabrielle Delacour was a show of a noble spirit. Hermione agreed he was very heroic and she whispered surely a special someone would notice. The aforementioned someone definitely noticed, but Harry wasn’t sure if it was in a good way.

While Hogwarts cheered wildly on the stands, Draco was avoiding his eyes, fixing his hair, his sleeves, everything but talking to him.

Was he thinking about Fleur Delacour? But he wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. Maybe he was disappointed in Harry. Maybe he thought he had been a fool going back to save the little girl. 

Or maybe he was ashamed he was the person Harry would miss the most?

It made sense. Diggory’s and Krum’s hostages were girls they fancied, and Delacour’s was her family. Perhaps Draco already realized Harry liked him.

His grey eyes met his. He immediately turned around, and started a quiet talk with a serious Krum, leading him away.

“He hates me,” Harry whispered, despairing, to Hermione. 

She squinted. “He doesn’t seem angry or like he hates you. Maybe he’s in shock,” Hermione offered gently. “He isn’t used to looking vulnerable in front of everyone. Why don’t you go and comfort him?”

Harry approached Draco again, trying to get back his confidence with each step. “Confidence is attractive,” Sirius had told him ages ago. But it was so difficult. Harry took a deep breath and tried his best anyway. It helped that Hermione accompanied him.

Krum nodded curtly at them and tried to engage Hermione in a conversation.

Draco fell silent. Harry fought back a squirm and smiled at him. “Do you need help?” He tried to not sound like a desperate puppy begging for attention, but he suspected he very much did.

Draco, already dry and warmed up, looked at him strangely.

“Help with what?”

Harry improvised. “Your hair”.

“Merlin. Is it still horrible? It’s Ron’s fault! He towelled it instead of using a spell like a normal wizard!” Draco tried to fix a nonexistent rebellious strand. 

Forgetting about his former worries, Harry touched Draco’s soft hair, pretending to help. He lowered his hand and the tips of his fingers grazed his cheeks. He wasn’t freezing anymore. 

Draco jumped away very fast. His whole face and neck were a brilliant red.

“Thank you,” he said in a very high voice. “Look, everyone is leaving. Isn’t that Sirius over there? Don’t you want to talk to him? Hello, cousin! Come here!”

What was that?

Sirius came down from the stands, surprisingly not running and jumping like he usually did. Remus was holding his arm, walking slowly but surely towards them.

“Harry!” Sirius called loudly, still far away. His face was strained with a grin from ear to ear. He looked better than ever, well fed and handsome. His dark hair was loose in healthy waves. At his side, Remus looked ill and worn-down. He was better than when Harry left, though. He was walking, and smiling, and his grip on Sirius was almost firm, showing only a slight tremble on his fingers.

They both attracted looks. Gossip erupted, nosy students parroting what happened in their trials and spreading theories. Some people gave Remus a wide berth. Karkaroff was sneering like his life depended on proving he found werewolves disgusting. Snape was glaring daggers. But some people were welcoming. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws called and waved at the former Professor. McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout wore kind and teary smiles.

Harry and Draco met them in the middle. Sirius beamed and congratulated him on his actions on the task. He, unfortunately, also teased him too.

“You must have been so worried, with my poor helpless cousin held down there. He surely waited for you to save him with your powerful magic and advanced intellect and charming smile. Did he swoon?”

“Of course I didn’t!” Draco shrieked.

At the same time, Harry said “Of course I was worried. He’s my friend”. He emphasized the last word and threw Sirius an angry look. He didn’t want Draco learning about his feelings because his meddling godfather spilled the beans. 

At his side, Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. He turned to Remus and questioned him about the potions he was taking and his recovery. 

“You made him uncomfortable,” Harry whispered to Sirius.

Sirius glanced curiously. “No… I think…”.

“We miss you here, professor,” Draco said to Remus. “I wish you could come back”.

“Thank you, Draco. Unfortunately, I don’t think the circumstances would allow that soon”.

“I’m sure half my house would support you, despite everything”. Draco leaned closer and whispered “Mad-Eye hates us Slytherins and he isn’t quiet about it. You were fair. I’ve heard even the upper years saying they’d rather you teach them. You were so good even they want you back”.

It was weird, seeing a proud smile appearing on Remus' face. He hadn’t been in high spirits after Azkaban. “Is that so”. He straightened his back a little and sent a pleased grin to the crowd leaving the stands.

“Of course it is. I knew you would be an awesome teacher, Moony,” Sirius said quickly. They beamed. For a long minute it seemed like they were lost on each other. Like sometimes he lost himself staring at Draco.

Harry blinked. Oh. Were they together like that? He never noticed…

A student laughed too loud and it broke their little bubble. Remus coughed and Sirius passed a hand through his hair, pushing it back.

Not together yet, then. Harry grinned evilly. He would pay back all of Sirius’ teasing.

Maybe his canine senses felt the danger, because he picked up the conversation, clearly aiming to distract them. “Did the judges say anything about the third task? Was there a clue or something?”

Harry shook his head. “They said to wait for further instructions”.

“You should focus on practising offensive and defensive spells until you have more information,” Remus suggested. “Don’t procrastinate. You have to be ready for everything”.

“Keep practising and you’ll do well. You’ve gotten so far already, Harry. I’m really proud”.

Harry’s chest warmed at the praise. He beamed at his godfather. Sirius was the best. He patted his shoulder, grinning. “Just keep paying attention. Don’t let your guard down”.

“Mr. Black! Remus! A word, please”. Mcgonagall approached them wearing her usual severe expression, but her eyes were soft.

“We’ll follow you in a second, Minerva,” Remus said.

“Traitor! The betrayal!” Sirius took a hand to his chest and threw a fake-hurt glance to them. “Since when Minnie calls you Remus?”

“Since we were colleagues," she sniffed. She was clearly fighting a smirk. “I’ll let you say goodbye to Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy. Come find me in the stands when you’re done”.

“I’ll charm Minnie into giving us a clue,” Sirius said happily. “Shall we, Moony?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” he laughed.

Before going, Sirius reassured Harry he loved him and he would be ready to support him in any way he could. He only had to use their mirrors. Remus offered his help too. He promised to research anything Harry asked. Sirius threw an arm around Draco and started a last session of bickering.

“Take care of yourselves”. Remus talked to Harry, but his eyes didn’t leave the other two. He smiled amused at Sirius’ antics.

“You too,” Harry said. “Keep drinking your potions. Tell Sirius if anything hurts”.

“I’ll do it. I'm getting stronger day by day”.

“Take care of Sirius too,” Harry blurted out. Sirius was physically better than ever. But he remembered when his godfather lost himself for hours, or days, back in Grimmauld Place. He didn’t know if Sirius’ mind healed as much as his body.

Remus nodded, solemnly. “He’s getting better too. A bit slowly, but his bad days are getting few and far between. I’ll help him to the best of my abilities. Once I’m able to work again, I’ll move out, but I’ll keep checking on him".

It wasn’t the first time he mentioned moving out. When Sirius brought him to Grimmauld, Remus had apologized and promised to get out as soon as he was back on his feet. Sirius always turned deaf when the issue was brought up.

“Thank you, Remus”. Harry hesitated, not knowing if he was overstepping. He decided to talk anyway. “You’re good for Sirius. I’m sure he’s happier with you in Grimmauld. We both are. You could stay if you want to”.

A series of complicated emotions passed through Remus' eyes. “I’ll talk with him,” he said.

Sirius came back and hugged Harry cheerfully. He and Remus said their goodbyes and went toward McGonagall.

“We should go too”. Draco didn’t wait for his answer and ran to the already distant crowd. He was still acting all weird. Well, it wasn’t like Harry expected him to fall in his arms after rescuing him or something. It couldn’t be that simple. With a sigh, Harry followed.

………

Draco’s head hung low between his hands, exhausted. He was hiding in his dorm, trying to process what was happening.

So.

He fancied Harry. It was too late to deny it. There was no turning back. 

After the second task, he did his best to run away from Harry and his stupid ability to make his heart transform into an elusive Snitch. He didn’t know what to do.

A crush. A very unexpected crush.

Was it, though?

Draco had always felt strongly about Harry Potter. He had admired the boy hero in the stories, and then he met him and realized he was a flawed, yet very admirable real boy. Infuriating and reckless, but also brave, loyal and kind. Someone who gave everything to the things he was passionate about, like flying, defying evil stuff, and protecting his friends. And Harry was so, so, so much more.

After their first year, their friendship grew special. Despite their differences, they understood each other. Draco cared for Harry as much as, or maybe more than, his closest friends.

Everything was intense, and new, and complicated with Harry. At the same time, everything was easier with him. It was easier to trust, to touch, to bicker, to compete, to laugh.

Maybe Draco liked him ages ago. Or maybe it was something that had slowly built up until it evolved into romantic feelings.

There was no way to know.

It was scary.

He needed time to get used to it, and to decide what to do, if there was something to do.

A couple of days after the second task, an article was released in the Daily Prophet. It had maybe one line about Diggory and Fleur Delacour and focused way too much on Harry and Krum. There were big pictures of Harry and Draco, and Krum and Hermione, but nothing about the other champions. Luckily, the picture they chose was Draco offering his hand to Harry, when he was pulling Gabrielle Delacour to the platform. If it were one showing Harry lifting him up, Draco would have died of embarrassment.

Wanting to catch the reader’s interest, the paper stated the champions had to rescue their most important person. Which wasn’t word by word what the golden egg said, but it put too much attention on Harry Potter’s and Viktor Krum’s hostages.

Privately, Draco was quite proud of being chosen as Harry’s hostage over Ron, even over Sirius. In a very hidden place in his mind, he was pleased everyone knew it too.

But his new feelings put him on edge.

Did Harry fancy him too? Or did Harry only consider him a friend and he would never ever see Draco in any other way? Did Harry even like men?

Should he say something? Do something? Stay quiet and let his crush die? 

Nevermind.

He couldn’t do anything without knowing what he could offer. If he were incredibly lucky and Harry liked him back, he had to know what to do. He didn’t want to hide the person he liked, he didn’t want a secret relationship and fakeness. Harry didn’t deserve that.

Before Draco could even consider acting on his feelings, he had to tell his parents he was gay. And then his friends. And maybe the Tonks too. And then, if he was still alive and not disowned, he could plan to court Harry… Or let him know he wanted to be courted? How did that work between two wizards? He didn’t know. Draco had only been taught the old ways to court a witch with the goal of an eventual marriage.

Being rejected by his parents was the one thing that stopped him.

He knew the consequences Aunt Andromeda faced. Kicked out and burnt off the family tree because she married a muggle-born. A gay wizard that didn’t hide would face the same treatment.

As much as he disagreed with his parents, and fought with his father, he didn’t want them to kick him out of their lives. He loved them. Mother said they loved him too. With time, he could maybe ease them into the idea.

What would his friends think? As much as they liked Draco, they all had surrendered to their fate.

Pansy was not actively pursuing her crush because she had the same fear. She wasn’t even thinking about telling her family. Maybe she didn’t have the intention to ever do it. She said she was willing to accept a lavender marriage. 

Theo, Vince and Greg had accepted they would have arranged marriages too. As far as Draco knew, none of them liked anyone, and they didn’t think of contradicting their parents.

Blaise and Daphne had more freedom, but even they followed the expectations of their families: Daphne was dating a pure-blood and Blaise only dated pure-bloods or half-bloods.

Would they understand Draco? Or would they leave him if his choice affected their relationships with their families?

The only one who was considering breaking the order was Draco. But he thought he had years to do so! He planned to postpone forever an arranged marriage, and maybe accept a fake courtship with Pansy to buy time until he convinced his parents to accept him as he was.

His feelings for Harry complicated everything. It was too soon. He wasn’t ready. And yet, his heart kept telling him to seek Harry out, to try to win him over.

He couldn’t. Not yet.

To make things worse, another article was published on Witch Weekly. Rita Skeeter had written about an alleged love square between Krum, Hermione, Harry and Draco.

Draco couldn’t have the press writing anything about his love life. Couldn’t he have a quiet week to process his feelings in peace? No, of course he couldn’t.

He swore when he read the title (“Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache”). He really didn’t need that. 

Fortunately, Skeeter had read everything wrong. Thanks to Merlin and Morgana and everyone else. 

He hated every single word that devilish witch wrote, but at least he wasn’t outed. 

Skeeter said that Hermione, a not-so-pretty but ambitious muggle-born girl, had been collecting the affection of influential boys in Hogwarts. First, she had been playing with both Harry and Draco’s feelings, who were best friends separated for their love for the same girl. It had been going on apparently since second year, when Draco had tried to duel an older student over her.

It was all twisted, of course. It wasn’t like that. She didn’t mention Draco had tried to duel Flint because he called Hermione a slur in their second year. How the hell had Skeeter gotten information about that?

In Skeeter’s words, Hermione couldn’t be satisfied with the fortune of a pure-blood heir as suitor, and she chose the famous Boy Who Lived, who was also pining after her. She wrote that Harry and Hermione were together, but she had been leading Draco on, as it showed on the amount of time they spent together in the library (To research!). 

Of course, Draco knew Harry didn’t like Hermione in that way. If he liked her, he had hidden it really well, but Draco was sure he would’ve noticed. 

Skeeter wrote that as soon as Viktor Krum arrived at Hogwarts, he was added as part of Hermione’s admirers. She had been playing with the affections of the three boys, collecting courting gifts and meeting their also influential friends. She had gotten Krum so smitten that he asked her to visit him in Bulgaria during holidays. Skeeter said Hermione may have used a love potion on the boys, and suggested the headmaster should open an investigation on the matter.

It was all fake, but it didn’t stop the rumours from spreading at school. Harry and Hermione got the worst of it. They got fan letters, and Hermione got howlers, hate mail and a letter with undiluted bubotuber pus that hurt her hands.

Draco only faced whispers and looks. People giggled and pointed at him in the corridors. He dealt with it with as much dignity as he could. Vince, Greg and Pansy helped by threatening whenever someone got particularly loud.

The worst part was his family read the papers. Draco got at least twenty letters from his father in 48 hours. Mother wrote only two, one asking about the article, which he replied with the truth, that it was all fake and they were just friends, and the next one expressing her support and that she’d do damage control with her friends. She also promised to sue Witch Weekly for writing about him. The damage had been done, though. Everyone was talking about that damned article.

The potions’ class was the most peaceful one. Draco’s friends knew he didn’t fancy Hermione. He made sure to tell all the Slytherins to ignore the rumours. He also threatened to curse anyone who talked or read the article in his presence. Pansy said she’d curse them too. While she knew everything was a lie and she found it very funny that anyone would believe Draco liked Hermione, she was angry that a lowly journalist had dared to lie about her friends like that.

The only issue in the Potions class was Professor Snape. He found Parvati and Lavender reading the article under their table and he read it aloud. Then, he stood close to Harry and muttered some things that Draco was sure were not kind words. Harry’s face turned pale and he hissed something that made Snape sneer evilly.

Before he took points, there was a knock on the door. Karkaroff asked to talk to Professor Snape. He said he was busy, but Karkaroff wasn’t dissuaded and stayed until the end of the class, guarding the door.

Being a meddlesome reckless stupidly curious wizard, Harry stayed back to spy on them. Draco, like a normal person, walked out and stayed with Ron and Hermione to make sure Harry told them whatever he heard.

“Karkaroff showed something on his forearm to Snape and told him it was so clear they couldn’t deny it anymore, but Snape told him to cover it”.

The words hit like his head was submerged in the lake again. 

“Which forearm?” Draco asked.

“The left one”.

Oh. Draco stayed in silence while Hermione and Ron threw around ideas. They wouldn’t guess it if he didn’t talk. He gathered his courage. “It’s the Dark Mark. The one all Death Eaters have”.

There was silence. They all understood why Draco knew that. He had never seen the mark clearly on his father’s skin, but he knew it was there.

“What does it mean that it was clear?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Nothing good”.

Draco glared at the walls, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Once again his family was surely involved. Hadn’t Mother mentioned something about tempestuous times? Had she heard something and was warning them? Sirius had mentioned rumours too… Something was happening.

“The Dark Mark is very dark magic,” Draco muttered. “It makes sense it faded after the caster fell. But if it’s getting clear… You Know Who must be getting stronger. Like, maybe he drank unicorn’s blood again, or found a new host or something else. But it’s significant”.

“Do you think Dumbledore knows?” Harry wondered.

“Snape has always worked for Dumbledore,” Hermione said immediately. “I’m sure he already knows”.

“Then what do we do? He should tell us, or at least tell Sirius so he can tell me what is happening”. Harry’s voice got louder.

Draco tried to speak calmly. “We can’t do anything. We don’t know anything the adults know. Maybe…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe my family knows something, but I asked and they didn’t say anything new. My friends are asking around too. If they learn anything, I’ll tell you”.

Harry nodded. His green eyes were dark with frustration.

“It’d be a good idea to tell Sirius anyway,” Ron added. “And prepare yourself for the task in the meantime”.

………

Narcissa’s blank face was the total opposite of the state of her mind. Outside, she was collected and proper, a facade ready to answer whatever Lucius said. Inside, it was chaos.

The Daily Prophet was on the table. It showed a big picture of Draco and Harry Potter on the front-page. Her son had been chosen as the boy's hostage for the second task.

Witch Weekly was next to the paper. Narcissa knew it was mostly fake, but the article called Harry Potter and Draco best friends. And it emphasized how much time her son spent with the Gryffindors.

It was… not good, but not bad either.

Narcissa didn’t remember very well the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament. She hadn’t cared much at the time, and during her planning to travel back, she assumed it would happen like it did in the past. After all, she had no intention of changing anything that happened in Hogwarts that year. Quite the contrary. 

But, if she recalled correctly… Potter’s hostage had been one of his two friends. The girl… No. It wasn’t the girl. Even in high society there had been gossip about the pure-blood Bulgarian Quidditch Star and the muggle-born nobody. It happened back then and it was happening in her new present. Then, Potters’ must have been the Weasley boy. His best friend. 

Unlike in the other past, Draco was in his place.

What did it mean?

Being too close to Potter was dangerous. Narcissa knew that, she had always known that. Yet, she had also accepted Potter’s side was better than getting marked. Granger and Weasley survived in the other past, they grew healthy, and they lived happily ever after.

At the moment, it seemed like Draco was officially one of them. If he joined them in every single step of their adventure… Did it mean he would survive and be happy, just like they did?

Did Narcissa make the right choice?

Lucius cleared his throat. He was looking at the picture. Draco offering a hand to Potter printed in the most popular newspaper in magical Britain. He wouldn’t like it.

Narcissa arched her brow and waited for a tantrum.

“Remember I told you the Dark Mark is getting clearer every day?”

She nodded. Lucius’ left hand tightened into a punch and then relaxed. An unconscious movement.

“I think we should move,” he said.

The blow of surprise left her breathless. “What?”

“We should leave now, before it’s too late”. His grey eyes, their colour so similar to Draco’s, were pained.

“What?” Sudden rage built up in her chest at a frightening speed. “What are you saying?”

“We should leave”. Lucius’ eyes were pleading, even if his pride didn’t let him utter the words. Her husband was asking her the one thing she had wanted so long ago.

“You want to leave? Now? You’re telling me now?”

Her voice raised, angry, improper, frustrated.

It was so unfair.

In the other past she suggested they could leave and hide when the Dark Mark became a dark grey. Lucius refused. When the Dark Lord had first called the Death Eaters to the graveyard, she begged Lucius to leave the country with Draco. He refused. When it was already too late and Lucius was assigned the mission to get the prophecy, she pleaded it would be safer to at least send Draco away. Lucius refused.

They had all the chances back then. He had been too blinded by his pride, his ambition, and his desire to be on the winning side. He really thought the Dark Lord deserved to rise, to enslave muggles and other magical beings. Lucius didn’t love the man or the cause like Bellatrix did, but he really believed the Dark Lord would win, if only because his goal fulfilled Lucius' own beliefs of his own superiority. 

And she had been too weak, too blind with loyalty to her husband to dare to leave on her own with their son. She thought she couldn’t leave Lucius. Even if she never truly loved him, he provided the perfect life a pure-blood woman like her was pushed to dream of since childhood. She had learnt to care for him. She had cared for him, and it has been her and her son’s downfall.

She and Lucius had both failed their son back then. She had failed Draco staying with Lucius. He failed pushing Draco to be a copy of him, desiring the same things, and then leaving him to take the mark and an impossible task as punishment for Lucius’ mistakes.

Before preparing the ritual, she swore she wouldn’t let Lucius get in the way again. She swore to not care for the man. He was only an obstacle for her son’s happiness and survival.

When she travelled back in time, she only granted Lucius the chance to spend time with Draco because her son would be happy that way. For her, Lucius was only a bothersome fly. She didn’t allow herself to feel sympathy for him. 

And suddenly, unexpectedly, without manipulation or magical coercion, Lucius decided to change? To suggest the one thing she begged to back then?

“Why?” She asked directly, still too shaken to be proper.

“The Dark Lord is getting stronger. He will come back sooner or later. Our son is not fit to be part of another war”.

“Why are you saying that?” Why now and not back then? She wanted to ask so badly. 

Lucius threw a defeated sigh. “Draco’s too involved with the wrong sort, and he’s grown too soft. He won’t like our Lord and our Lord won’t like him either. He’s strayed away too far. Putting him in front of our Lord would only endanger him. We have to get him away. We could all go away and hide”.

Oh, how it hurt.

When Narcissa had asked the same, Lucius refused so many times. He didn’t see Draco for himself back then. He thought Draco, as the Malfoy heir, would thrive under the Dark Lord’s reign. He never accepted that Draco was already too soft.

Even in the other past, when Lucius and Narcissa had raised him to be ruthless, to hurt without remorse and to believe himself superior over anyone else, Draco only got to a certain point.

He was never able to cross the line of killing. Not even when he had Dumbledore at his mercy. When killing the greatest wizard alive would’ve been the best achievement ever, when the Dark Lord would’ve praised him and covered him in honour, when he hated the man’s guts, Draco had been unable to do it.

He hadn’t enjoyed torturing either. Not in a deranged way like Bellatrix, neither for the rush of power like Lucius, nor to punish his enemies like the Dark Lord or to get information like many Death Eaters. He had cast the curse under orders, and then ran away to throw up or cry out of sight.

Only then had Lucius understood. It had been too late.

And in the new present, when Lucius finally agreed with her, Narcissa couldn’t leave.

She had to stay and live the war.

She was the only witch with occlumency strong enough to lie to the Dark Lord. She had to lie and save Harry Potter after he survived the killing curse for a second time. That was something she couldn’t change. She had to be in that forest, close enough to the Dark Lord, on his side. And if he ordered another person to check on the boy, Narcissa had already practised her wandless and non verbal Imperius curse.

She couldn’t leave.

“Maybe you could go with Draco. I can stay”.

It was a weak suggestion and both knew it.

“He’d kill you,” Lucius said. “You’re not even marked. Why would you stay?”

“I have to. He won’t kill me if I ask to join him. Bellatrix can convince him to spare me”.

Lucius shook his head minutely. “Even if he doesn’t kill you, he’d torture you. I can’t leave you like that. If you want to stay, I’ll stay with you”.

If only this one were the you in the other past, Narcissa thought helplessly. If only you had understood Draco back then. We could all have left and lived together. Draco would have grown up healthy and happy until he was old. And you and I would have been happy together too.

How their roles had changed. 

She was the one refusing to leave and he was the one asking to do it for the safety of their son. Maybe it was the fate of their family to stay and suffer throughout the war.

“We could send Draco away. Maybe France or farther away”.

“He won’t like it,” Lucius said. “You know the Dark Lord thinks it’s suspicious if one of his followers sends away their loved ones. He killed two of us for doing that in the war. He said there were only two options to send their family away. Or they were planning on betraying him or they didn’t trust he would win. Both were reasons to be killed. If we stay, we all stay”.

Narcissa knew that. She had to stay, so Lucius would do the same, and Draco too. Her ritual chained all of them, just like Lucius’ decisions did in the other past.

The difference was he had doomed them back then. She wouldn’t let it happen like that. 

Chapter Text

The existence of a mark on Death Eaters and the fact that it was getting clearer, darker, stronger, was ominous. It meant Voldemort and his followers were becoming more powerful. More real.

Harry wished it wasn’t happening. He wished it had nothing to do with him. He wished it didn’t have anything to do with Draco either.

“It’s just… I always knew how my family was on a different side from yours in the war, but these things make it more real,” Draco confided in Harry. “Because of course all of you didn’t even know about the existence of a Dark Mark. It had to be me who told you and I only know because my father has one”.

“Ron said there were rumours about some kind of sign Death Eaters used, but nobody was sure of it. Most people only knew about the one they conjured in the sky”.

“Because it’s unsightly! A pure-blood –anyone, really– wouldn’t let someone else mark them like that with dark magic, like property. It’s sick. But my father was proud of it!”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He put his hand over Draco’s in silent comfort.

“Well, at least it has its uses,” Draco scoffed. “He, and Karkaroff, and everyone stupid enough to get marked know something’s happening right now. Maybe someone will talk. Speaking of which, did you talk to Sirius?”

“Yes”.

After spying on Karkaroff and Snape, Harry used the mirror his godfather gave him to have a long chat about what he heard, what Draco told him, and all the ideas Ron and Hermione had.

The follow up-call was even longer.

“I’ve told Dumbledore everything, but he didn’t seem surprised. I think he already knew. Snape works for him. I don’t trust that greasy git, but Dumbledore does. Whatever Karkaroff told Snape, he must have reported back to him,” Sirius said.

“And what are we doing?”

“You are preparing for the Tournament,” Sirius retorted. “That is your major threat right now”.

Remus poked his head and added “Hi, Harry. It doesn’t hurt that you always stay close to your friends inside the castle. There’s someone dangerous out there. Better be safe than sorry. And don’t forget to practise your defensive magic. Just in case”.

“That’s right. Always keep your eyes open and pay attention to your surroundings”.

“You sound like Mad-eye Moody,” Harry grumbled.

“Moody is one of Dumbledore’s most trusted men. He’s there to protect you too. If you feel something’s off, tell him or Dumbledore. Whoever wants to harm you won’t get past them”.

“Someone did once”.

Harry remembered with streaking clarity the fake Snape in his third year. The confusing dueling, he being a hostage for a few minutes, the hasty escape of the mysterious person.

“And someone’s sneaking into Hogwarts again. Snape said someone’s stealing his stuff. He accused me of doing it! Maybe it’s the same person? The one from last year, the one from this year that put my name in the goblet and now steals Snape’s stuff?”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a wary glance.

“Snape’s always been a crazy git. He only wants to get you in trouble,” Sirius said.

Remus shook his head. “Maybe not. Maybe there’s a thief”.

“Then why would he accuse Harry of doing it? Snape’s only being his usual deranged self. Moody would’ve noticed someone inside the castle. Did you see anything weird on the map?”

Harry had been checking the map every couple of hours since he spied on Snape and Karkaroff. Unfortunately, he didn’t catch unusual names in the castle.

“Nothing. There’s more people than usual, so it’s a bit hard to catch single names”.

“Nobody roaming the halls at nighttime? Or moving to unusual places alone?” Sirius asked.

“Only the teachers and Filch patrol the halls during the night”. A distant memory came to him. “I saw Mr. Crouch at night once. He was in Snape’s office, but Snape wasn’t there”.

Remus choked and Sirius' gaze hardened.

“Do you know him?”

Sirius laughed, a bitter and dark sound. “Of course I know him. Bartemius Crouch is the one who sent me to Azkaban without trial”.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

With a heavy sigh, Sirius talked about not making a fuss in front of the Weasleys when Crouch walked in as Percy’s boss. Both men ignored each other back then. Nobody had noticed.

“But afterwards?”

“I was more worried about Karkaroff and the tournament. But Crouch is someone to watch for”.

“Did he support Voldemort?”

“On the contrary. He was a ruthless adversary. He even sent his own son to Azkaban. But he would do anything to get back to power. I’m sure he wants to catch a bad wizard, or anyone suspicious, to climb back up. That’s why he must be searching through Snape’s office even though he claims he’s too sick to show up to his work”.

Harry asked what Dumbledore told Sirius and Remus, what were they doing with the suspicions about Voldemort getting stronger.

Sirius sighed. “We’re waiting. Dumbledore ordered us to not ask around to not raise unwanted attention. To worry only about you. And you should worry only about that damned Tournament”.

Harry couldn’t do anything without more information. Dumbledore’s silence was unnerving.

He reported everything to his friends and they were frustrated too.

“If someone stole Boomslang skin from Snape’s office, someone could be brewing Polyjuice to infiltrate the castle,” Hermione suggested. 

“Wouldn’t Dumbledore know?” Ron asked.

“We saw someone get in using Polyjuice before,” Draco whispered. “And that person wasn’t captured”.

They all exchanged a look. They had discussed the issue extensively, but they didn’t reach a consensus about what happened in their third year. They didn’t have a suspect nor their goal.

“Do you think fake-Snape did it?” Draco asked.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Hermione said. “We don’t know anything about this person”.

A small frown appeared on Draco’s face. “Getting Harry in the tournament is an evasive way to try to kill him. Subtle and without traces. It’s their style”.

Ron shook his head. “Putting Harry’s name in the goblet was too flashy. It caught attention”.

“And yet, it was the best way to do it indirectly. If Harry dies, there won’t be blood on their hands”.

The Gryffindors winced at Draco’s words.

“We don’t know if it’s the same person who’s trying to kill, if they are related to Voldemort or not”. Harry’s eyes glinted with frustration. “We don’t have clues. We can’t do anything”.

“We can get you ready. Protecting you is a priority,” Hermione said.

“That’s what Sirius and Remus said”.

“If you win, you’ll be spitting on their year-long plan”. Draco smirked. “Maybe then they’ll try to attack you directly, but we’ll be with you, ready”.

“To catch them,” Harry said.

“To expose them,” Draco corrected. “From a safe place, with adults as backup. The idea is for you to be safe, remember? Not to play auror”.

Harry rolled his eyes, but his smile was soft. “Sure, sure. You worry too much”.

………

Draco was used to worrying over Harry. His new feelings only made everything worse. The need to protect Harry had increased exponentially, same as his fear that something bad could actually happen.

The shame was there too.

Draco wondered if his father was scared of his mark, like Karkaroff was. If he regretted it at all. Or if he was waiting excitedly for it to become stronger. 

What if his father was directly involved? What if he knew, or worse, he was the one helping You-Know-Who to get his power back?

The thought was scary, shameful and, unfortunately, just a little bit possible.

If Harry got hurt because of his father’s plots again, like in second year, Draco wouldn’t be able to forgive him. 

Thankfully, at least a couple of adults were doing their best to protect Harry. Remus and Sirius were only a mirror away. The Tonks always answered their letters. While Nymphadora didn’t know anything new, it was comforting having an auror ready to answer. At least that side of his family was helping them.

When it was time for Easters’ break, Draco decided to go back home. In reality, his father threatened to pick him up from the castle if he refused to board the train, but the decision to avoid said drama was Draco’s.

He wasn’t in the best mood to endure his family’s nagging about his past decisions on the Yule ball, and he would definitely face a talk about what appeared on the papers.

Despite everything, Draco could get something out of his time with them. Maybe information, or time to convince them to change their ways.

He had to put more effort into it. Their relationship was strained. He had ignored Father’s letters too much and his chats with Mother were short and sporadic.

He would endure the initial scolding, he would spend time with them and sweeten their ears, and maybe, if everything went well, he could test the waters for other stuff, like what they thought about him liking men.

Surprisingly, his parents were more worried than upset about the whole thing with the articles. Mother asked if people in school were bothering him, and Father promised repercussions.

Draco downplayed the students’ gossip, but mentioned it had reduced his popularity. Mother told him they had sued Witch Weekly. However, the copies that were already sold had spread the lies to almost all magical Britain.

Not many people cared for Draco’s role in the fake love square. The readers were more intrigued by the idea of a girl leaving Harry Potter for Viktor Krum. But his parents cared. They had decided to rebuild Draco’s reputation and to show everyone the articles were lies.

“Of course we believe you,” Father had said. “It’s impossible that my son would lower himself to pin after a witch with dirty blood. At least our close circle of allies know this and they believe our word over that commoner journalist”.

His attitude wasn’t unexpected, yet it was disappointing. Father wasn’t using slurs all the time for Draco’s sake, but his mind hadn’t changed.

It definitely meant Draco couldn’t come out yet. His father wouldn't accept him.

He had to work on his plan to change their minds.

Draco decided to spend time with them, not fighting like he did before, but bonding.

That’s how he found himself attending lessons Mother taught him. He was proud of his advanced grip on Occlumency, but she pushed him to be better. His mental shield was almost unbreakable, but he failed at the subtle deflection Mother said was the peak of defenses. To allow the attacker to see innocent stuff, while hiding the important things. Draco was only a beginner in that.

He practised not only Occlumency, but all kinds of magic with her, and revelled in her pleased smile at his improvements.

Spending time together made Draco remember she was way more accepting than father. Draco could talk to her.

He tried to gauge her reaction about his coming out in small steps.

To begin with, he asked her if she agreed with casting out family members who loved non pure-blood people. “Like what happened with Aunt Andromeda,” he said. “I know you’re not on the best terms with her now, but do you agree with the Blacks kicking her out?”

She hummed, transfiguring and multiplying one silver needle into a dozen of small knives. She transfigured them back to the one needle and motioned to Draco. He copied her, with less success. He only got two knives, less detailed than hers. She told him to do it again.

“I can’t say if what my parents did was right or wrong”. She eyed his second attempt and told him to try again.

“But, in their place, would you do the same?”

She stared only at the needle transfiguring under Draco’s magic. He managed to do the transfiguration right. When she raised her eyes, they were hard and observant, like she was trying to figure something out.

Draco fought to not squirm under her gaze. He kept his face blank and innocently curious.

“I wouldn’t stop loving my children for any reason, unlike them,” she said. “Nothing would make me stop loving you and supporting you, Draco”.

He blushed. He hadn’t been as subtle as he thought. She clearly knew he was asking for himself. Yet, she didn’t poked at his mind with Legilimency nor did she ask. She only waited patiently.

Draco decided to take a leap of faith. “It’s true the article is a lie”. He hesitated, but her open face kept him going. “But I discovered that I have certain proclivities… I don’t think I will follow the path that you expect for me as a pure-blood heir. I won’t ever marry a pure-blood witch”. Or any woman, he completed in his mind, yet he didn’t say it. The words were too heavy.

Mother blinked. She took a breath, deeper than usual, and nodded. She understood.

Draco blinked quickly to avoid spilling tears.

“Come here, darling”.

He fell into her arms. The hug was nice, warm and familiar. The smell of roses and tea surrounded him, gentle and protective. “It’s okay to like whoever you like, darling. I’ll always love you. I won’t ever disown you for such things”.

“I love you too, mummy”.

She petted his hair. “Let’s keep this between ourselves for now, okay? Your father... He loves you, but he has a very narrow view of the world”.

Draco hummed in agreement. He knew he couldn’t tell his father yet. It didn’t matter. He had his mother. She told him it was okay. A huge weight lifted from his shoulders. He could wait for Father.

He didn’t expect to tell her so easily and so soon. He had many steps planned, but she had caught the meaning behind his words in the first try.

………

The plan with his father was indeed longer.

Draco spent all the time he could with him. Father seemed delighted that Draco was willing to follow him to many lunches and teas with rich and pure-blood people.

Draco even endured a brunch with the Flints. His old quidditch-captain worked for the Ministry, and he was just as nasty as before. However, he had learnt the art of cold acquaintance talk, and Draco answered with polite and short lines. Flint wasn’t the worst one. At least they could talk about Quidditch. With other people, there was nothing but the weather and politics.

Draco smiled and nodded at boring talks, only opening his mouth to say smart and diplomatic words. His father’s eyes were bright with pride.

A couple of years before, Draco would’ve beamed, pleased to make his father happy, ready to do everything to get that attention again. Not anymore. He was in good spirits, though. Each day that passed, his father was happier. As a result, he seemed more and more interested in Draco himself and not only in the front he put on.

After each meeting, Father asked him about school, about his friends, about everything. Draco was careful with what he said, but Father didn’t punish him. Not even when Draco accepted he spent a lot of time with the Gryffindors.

Instead, he bought him ice cream and the next day he took him to visit the Notts.

“Everything is okay as long as you remember your priorities and never betray our family,” Father told him.

Draco muted a sigh. It was one step forward and one step back.

Mr. Nott didn’t seem too pleased to see Draco, but after a quick exchange of whispers, he greeted him and allowed him to go to the library with Theo. The adults went together to Mr. Nott’s private office.

Draco hadn’t forgotten his idea to get information. It was too good of an opportunity to pass.

“I’m going to listen to them,” he whispered to Theo. “You can go to the library if you want”.

“I wonder how you plan to hide in my house, and spy on my very paranoid father without me. It’s a mystery how you get better marks than me”.

“Because I, unlike you, have a brain”.

“Sod off”.

“You started it”.

Both of them creeped through a hidden passage and arrived to a room next to Mr. Nott’s office. Theo showed him a magical tapestry that allowed them to get into a cabinet directly into the office.

“My old nanny showed it to me,” Theo muttered.

“Your house elf?”

“Yes”.

They listened carefully. It was mostly a boring talk about business and politics, but Draco got some information out of it.

After debating a new law, Mr. Nott and Father changed their tune. After extended nudging and coaxing so vague that made Theo yawn, the two men confessed to noticing the change in their dark marks. Both didn’t know exactly what it meant, but they were sure You-Know-Who was getting stronger.

Draco’s shoulders dropped, relieved. His father wasn’t involved this time. He wouldn’t lie to his closest ally.

“What do you plan to do?” Father asked Mr. Nott.

“I’m not leaving, if that’s what you’re asking. If our lord comes back, I’ll be waiting for him, ready to be of service”.

“He might punish us for lying about our loyalties”.

“I’ll endure the punishment. Azkaban was a bad choice. Look at Bellatrix. He will be mad, but he won’t kill us. He will understand”.

“I won’t leave either,” his father said. “But I’m not sure if this is the sign we’re hoping for”.

“We only have to wait”.

Their talk turned to discussing some Ministry worker’s disappearance in Albania and then more politics.

Theo dug his elbow to Draco’s side and both left in silence. Once they were in the library, Theo turned to Draco with a worried frown.

“Do you think the Dark Lord’s really coming back?”

“I don’t know. You heard them”.

Theo’s face was pale. “Draco, you need to clean up your reputation as soon as possible”.

“What do you mean?”

“If he really comes back, you can’t look like a blood traitor. Merlin. We’ve all been mixing with the wrong sort for years! We will all look like blood traitors”.

Draco waved a dismissing hand. He was just as worried as his friend, but he couldn’t let them both fall into despair. Draco patted his shoulder, trying to stop Theo’s panic.

“Even our parents aren’t sure. And I think Dumbledore or someone can stop You-Know-Who before he gets his full power back. Last time I saw– I mean, I know he was a shadow a couple of years ago, not even human. He won’t hurt us”.

Theo shushed him. “You can’t say that here! You know our parents wish he comes back”.

“It’s fine. It won’t happen”.

Theo didn’t seem convinced, but he wisely didn’t fight Draco over it.

Back at the manor, Draco wrote to his cousin. He insisted he had to make a plan with Dumbledore and mentioned his father’s and Mr. Nott’s meeting. Sirius wrote back that he would talk with the headmaster again.

Draco knew it was pointless. Dumbledore wouldn’t share his plans with them. At least he had done his part telling Sirius everything he heard. The adults could deal with it.

………

In Hogwarts, a few things happened while Draco was away.

First, Hermione declared a one-sided war to Rita Skeeter after she got hate mail with curses and potions. Her hate for the journalist only increased after Mrs. Weasley sent Hermione a tiny egg for Easter instead of a big candy one like she sent to Harry and Ron. In Ron’s words, the woman believed the article in Witch Weekly and didn’t hesitate to act on it. Second, Harry, Ron and Hermione tried to get the house elf Winky to tell them more about her former master Crouch, but she refused, claimed to be loyal and vowed to keep his secrets.

“I don’t think Crouch has anything to do with the plot to get Harry into the Tournament,” Draco said.

Harry shook his head. “I think there’s something suspicious about him. I don’t get why he was looking through Snape’s office like Moody. I saw him on the map”.

“He’s only trying to catch a dark wizard, like Sirius said,” Ron added, clearly bored.

“No. It doesn’t feel right”.

Draco let Harry focus on Crouch and he asked his Slytherin friends about their time at home. From what he could gather, none of their parents seem to know anything about the dark marks or the plot to get Harry in the tournament. Pansy had noticed his father eyeing anxiously at his forearm, but nothing else. They were as ignorant as Draco’s father.

The last weekend of May, Harry was called by Professor Mcgonagall. She told him to go to the Quidditch pitch to get a clue about the third task.

Following Sirius instructions, Draco suggested someone had to go with Harry. Surprisingly, Ron and Hermione immediately said Draco should go.

“The champions have to go there alone, but you can wait somewhere close,” Hermione said. “Harry might be stressed. You should take a long walk with him. To brainstorm strategy stuff”.

“A very long walk, just the two of you,” Ron added. “We’ll wait for you in Gryffindor tower. Take as much time as you need”.

Draco narrowed his eyes on them. Their voices were on the line of teasing. Could it be that they had realized Draco’s feelings? They blinked at him innocently. No. It couldn’t be. He had been very careful. 

Draco did as they said and waited for Harry close to the Quidditch pitch, eyeing the Forbidden Forest.

It brought memories back. Some bad from first and second year, but some were good.

Not so long ago, dragons had been hidden there. That night Draco had been breathless with their magnificence. He had also lost his cool when Harry held him too close. He had been touchy, and blunt, and charming. Was it the first time he felt like that? Like his heart wanted to escape his chest to fly to the other boy and stay there, fluttering with each one of his breaths.

Draco blinked back to the present.

The champions were talking with Ludo Bagman in the changed Quidditch pitch. The grounds were covered with small bushes. It was easy to guess the task would be a maze.

Another blink and the champions dispersed.

Instead of joining Draco immediately, Harry went closer to the forest with Cedric Diggory. Krum went back to the Durmstrang ship after politely nodding in Draco’s direction, and Delacour walked towards him.

Wait. Why were Harry and Diggory walking together to the very forbidden forest?

Draco jogged after them, but Fleur stopped him.

“Hello, Draco! Are you going after them? Don’t worry. I don't think Cedric likes Harry that way,” the french rolled elegant but with a hint of mocking.

Draco blushed furiously.

It was unfortunate, really. He had the worst luck ever. The same day he realized his feelings, Fleur Delacour had noticed. In Draco’s defense, he had just gotten out of the lake and he wasn’t ready to put on a facade. He had been too obvious, acting on unreasonable jealousy, and of course Fleur saw right through it. She had teased him back then and she wasn’t above doing it again.

“I’m just worried for my friend,” Draco said smoothly.

“Right. So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that your Harry is going to the darkness with the most handsome guy in Hogwarts?”

“Diggory is not so handsome,” Draco said not so smoothly.

“Sorry, dear,” Fleur giggled. “You might be good-looking, but Cedric is on another level”.

Draco spluttered in outrage. “How dare you. If anything he might be more handsome than you, but no more than me”.

Fleur let out an un-lady-like snort. “You’re so funny! If we talk about beauty, neither him nor you come anywhere close to me. But don’t worry, maybe when you grow up you can at least try to compete with him”.

Draco muttered all the french curses he knew. Fleur ignored him and kept on a smile with the confidence of someone who said the undeniable truth.

Maybe he could hex her for real, to see what her allegedly pretty face looked like covered in furunculous. Or spitting slugs. No. Draco was mature and over childish fights. He could ignore her ridiculous taunts.

Seething, Draco settled for saying “I’ll forgive your lack of taste. Maybe you should check your eyes. You might need glasses. If you may excuse me,” and walked away with all the dignity he could muster.

Or at least he tried.

Fleur followed, making idle chat about the third task, then about the second one, then commenting on all the ways Hogwarts was dull compared to the beautiful Beauxbatons.

Deep down, Draco knew she was only teasing. The poor girl had to be lonely and bored out of her mind to try to engage a fourteen year old on her tasteless jokes. Maybe it was because he wasn’t affected by her veela charms, but come on, he couldn’t be the only one, could he? There had to be more gay men and straight women that she could befriend without them falling over her. Perhaps she was really troubled by all the people falling over her.

Sensing his disinterest, she made a couple of comments about how Harry stared so much at Cedric, without blinking.

Draco’s slight empathy disappeared. Forget it. Her personality was nasty and she deserved her struggles, he decided.

He quickened his pace to the forest, but she kept up effortlessly.

They saw the approaching figure at the same time.

It was Harry running to them.

Draco almost breathed in relief. Harry’s face stopped him. His eyes were wide and he was pale. He slowed down, and talked so quickly it was difficult to understand.

“Crouch appeared out of nowhere! He seems to be out of sorts. He doesn’t remember anything for moments, but then he does. He said he needed to talk to Dumbledore. I have to look for him. I left Diggory with him in the forest”.

He didn’t understand all of it, but he got that Harry found Crouch in need and wanted to help. “I’ll go with you,” Draco offered, but Harry shook his head.

“You and Fleur better keep Diggory company. Crouch needs more eyes checking on him. He acts too weird”.

Harry took off to the castle. The seconds it took Draco to decide were enough for Fleur to pull him to the other side.

“Come on. I won’t get close to that creepy forest alone”. She shivered.

They ran to the direction Harry had signaled to. They saw Diggory and Crouch’s shadows close to a tree. They seemed to be fine.

They were far enough to not see their faces clearly.

Then, a red light came out of nowhere. Diggory fell to the ground.

A green light followed and Crouch fell too.

“No!” Fleur shrieked. She got her wand out and Draco copied her, his mind working a mile a minute to understand what was happening.

A green light. Did it mean…?

Someone was pulling Crouch away with magic. Pulling him to the darkness of the forest, out of their sight.

Fleur shot a couple of hexes. Draco did the same. Whoever was casting was hidden in the trees. Their spells missed.

His mind locked on the fight. He put any doubts aside and focused on what he learnt about duelling. Mother had taught him all summers. He knew what to do.

Draco slashed his wand, muttered a spell, and cut through the invisible spell pulling Crouch. The man’s body stayed on the ground.

More curses flew out of the trees, this time towards them, but Draco’s and Fleur’s shields were strong enough to block everything.

“Hold on,” Fleur said. Draco held his shield up while she used Rennervate to wake Diggory up. While the Hufflepuff slowly got his senses back, Fleur changed to an offensive stance, firing more spells to the trees. She transfigured two of them into tall mirrors, trying to get a good picture of their foe.

However, that person immediately conjured smoke to hide, and then broke the mirrors.

Draco solidified the conjured smoke into ice daggers and propelled them towards the mysterious enemy, but they vanished half of them and sent back the other ones.

Draco vanished the attacking daggers before they touched him.

It was scary. Their foe was using only non verbal spells, probably to hide their voice, and yet they were holding off both Draco and Fleur.

They transfigured the earth under their feet to quicksand. Draco solidified it before their shoes sank, but the attacker used the distraction to break Fleur’s shield and shot a curse that she barely avoided. It made a small cut on her shoulder.

She gasped, but sent back a fire charm followed by a stunning one. Draco joined with a petrifying curse and a binding one.

The attacker blocked everything.

Then, Diggory finally joined them and shot non verbal spells.

Outnumbered three to one, the attacker changed to a defensive stance and retreated.

Diggory tried to follow him, but Draco stopped him.

“Wait! We can’t follow him there. We’ll lose our advantage”.

Diggory stared at the dark forest, breathing heavily.

“That person attacked me! And Crouch! Where’s Crouch?”

“He’s dead”.

Draco turned around and saw Fleur standing over the fallen man. She casted rennervate again and again, yet the man didn’t open his eyes.

Fleur blinked back tears and met Draco’s eyes.

“He killed him with that spell we saw”.

Draco felt his stomach drop. Someone had killed a man right in front of him. He had seen the green light touch the man and the body fall. He had been too late to help and that person had escaped.

They were lucky the attacker hadn’t killed Diggory. They were lucky Draco went back with Fleur. What if she were alone? And what if Harry had stayed instead of Diggory?

Draco turned around and walked to the closest three he could find. He threw up.

Crouch was dead.

The rumours weren’t rumours anymore. Something bad was unfolding and they didn’t know what it was, nor how to stop it.

………

Harry couldn’t stop kicking himself for telling Draco to stay back.

What was he thinking? Walking so close to the forest to talk about the stupid debt Diggory felt he owed. If the stupid Hupplepuff thought he owed Harry before, it had doubled, or tripled the amount.

Because he listened to his whining, they had found Crouch and the attacker had found Draco.

He could’ve died.

His Draco could’ve died.

It wasn’t only Diggory’s fault, though.

Harry had found Snape on the way back to the castle and the stupid man had stopped him with pointless questions. Fortunately, Dumbledore saw him and went with him to the forest. They had found Draco, Fleur, Cedric and a dead Crouch.

Cedric had been stunned, Fleur had a small wound that she healed herself. Only Draco had escaped unscathed. He said it was luck. Harry thought it was because Draco was strong, capable and smart.

If he got hurt, Harry wouldn’t stop until he found the attacker and made him pay.

Harry hated whoever had done it anyway. Crouch had said so many things when Harry found him. He claimed he made mistakes. He mentioned his son, his wife, and Bertha Jorkins, the Ministry worker that had disappeared months ago. He knew something, and he wanted to tell Dumbledore, but he was killed before he could.

There was an investigation going on about the murder. The aurors came in hordes to the castle. They swept through the Forbidden Forest, upsetting the centaurs and other magical creatures that lived there.

Harry almost wanted to drop out of the Tournament to focus on pestering Tonks and Sirius about whatever was happening.

His friends didn’t let him.

Draco, Ron and Hermione never left his side. They were shaken after the whole ordeal, and devoted their time and efforts to help Harry practise his duelling.

Harry didn’t enjoy being the one to be protected all the time, but he liked that Draco was glued to his side. He felt better knowing he was there, safe and close enough to touch and protect.

It was a bad time to think about love. There was nothing he could do about the investigation, though. Without information and unable to do anything, Harry let his mind wander to his feelings.

He didn’t have much time to think about winning Draco over, but he did the best he could. He used every chance he got to brush their shoulders, their hands and their knees. He tried silly pick up lines and failed spectacularly every time. He leaned too close and stared into Draco’s grey eyes, willing his feelings to reach the other boy.

……….

Harry didn’t have to take exams, unlike his friends. The perks of being a champion.

He spent the weeks before the exams practising alone whenever his friends were revising. He became very good at the defensive and offensive spells Remus suggested.

His repertoire wasn’t good on transfigurations and charms, though. He knew he would never master advanced spells on those fields, but he chose a couple that interested him for reasons unrelated to the task. Overall, he was definitely getting better.

It was on the last lesson of Divination that something happened. The room was warm and dark as it always was. Harry fell asleep in class and he dreamt. 

He was inside of an elegant and clean cottage. He didn’t know where it was, but he could see a thick forest outside of the windows. The ornaments were few, but expensive-looking. The furniture was all made of perfectly-barnished dark wood.

Dream-Harry followed an owl that carried a letter. They entered a room occupied by a man kneeling on the ground, next to a huge snake.

Harry recognized the almost-bald man. Peter Pettigrew. He waited for the rage to fill his chest, but it came muted down. He was slow and his feelings were barely whispers that didn’t dare disrupt the scene he was witnessing.

The snake circled Pettigrew and the man sweated in silence.

Then, a creepy voice came out of an armchair submerged in shadows. The voice said Pettigrew’s mistake hadn’t ruined their plan. It said Pettigrew was lucky, because someone was dead. He wouldn’t be eaten by Nagini, the snake.

But Nagini could eat Harry Potter later.

Pettigrew wasn’t safe, though. The voice, Voldemort, wasn’t forgiving. It raised a wand and Pettigrew fell to the floor, crying under the pain of the Cruciatus curse.

Harry woke up in the middle of the class. His concerned peers surrounded him. He shook off a curious Professor Trelawney and a concerned Ron, and walked away with short excuses.

He didn’t know if it was a dream, or a premonition, or something else. Sirius had told him ages ago if he had another dream like that, he had to go to Dumbledore. Following his advice, Harry did.

He rushed to the headmaster’s office, passing through the Griffin gargoyle with another candy password. Dumbledore was busy, though. He had to see the grounds with Moody and the Minister, who came to investigate Crouch’s murder.

He told Harry to wait in his office.

Harry waited.

He was too full of energy to sit still. Pacing around the room, he stared curiously at the magical artifacts that hummed and let out small puffs of magic.

A blue light caught his attention. It came out of a gap in a closet’s doors.

There was nobody else in the office. Dumbledore wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

Bored of waiting and anxious to do something, Harry opened the closet. There was an old stone vessel. It was filled with a smoke-like liquid.

He had never seen anything like it before.

He leaned closer.

Despite living in a magical house all summer, Harry never grew out his curiosity and his impulses. He touched the liquid.

He fell into a room full of people. Dumbledore was sitting at his side.

Harry panicked for a full minute. He apologized to everyone he saw. Nobody seemed to hear him, though. The headmaster didn’t even glance at him. Nobody noticed him.

Years ago, he had a similar experience.

Somehow, he had fallen into a memory, like the one he saw in Riddle’s diary.

Harry waited by Dumbledore’s side. A younger Alastor Moody sat at the headmaster’s other side.

It was a courtroom.

Harry witnessed many trials from the times during and after the first war.

He saw Ludo Bagman, accused of passing information to Death Eaters. Bagman claimed he didn’t know the man he talked to was a Death Eater. He was declared innocent.

He also saw Karkaroff. The man gave the Wizengamot many names in exchange for freedom. Most of them had died or were already captured. One of the names he gave was Snape’s. However, Dumbledore stood up in Snape’s defense, saying that he had changed sides before the end of the war.

The last trial he saw was about a group of Death Eaters that attacked a couple of aurors after Voldemort fell. Among that crowd was Crouch’s son, Bartemius Crouch Junior. The young man pleaded innocence, but the other Death Eaters shushed him.

The only woman of the group stepped in front and said that they would be going down as loyal followers of the Dark Lord. Something of her regal air and beauty was familiar. Squinting, Harry realized she was very similar to Andromeda. Only her hair was darker, and her face was hard and not kind. Harry heard her name when she and the others were condemned to Azkaban for life. She was Bellatrix Lestrange, neé Black. He had heard about her before. Whispers about cruelty and how Sirius and Andromeda disliked her.

Draco had mentioned her once or twice as his crazy aunt.

In the memory, she didn’t seem crazy. She was the figure of contained power, and she had the authoritative air of someone who thought she was right. She wasn’t cowed, and she left with the aurors flaunting a sneer and a dignified posture. It was uncomfortable how similar her retreating back was to Andromeda or Narcissa Malfoy.

Her crime had been awful too. Torturing the couple with an unforgivable curse. Harry only connected the dots at the end. The couple’s surname was Longbottom. They were Neville’s parents.

Dumbledore found him just as he realized the disheartening fact. He helped him out of the vessel, it was called a Pensieve, and offered to answer his questions.

Harry asked about Crouch Junior, and Dumbledore answered he died in prison. He asked about the Longbottoms, and Dumbledore told him they had been tortured until they lost their minds. They were alive, but almost as if they weren’t. Harry asked about Bellatrix Lestrange, and Dumbledore told him she was alive in Azkaban. The headmaster made him promise to not reveal anything about Neville’s parents to other people.

“It’s his right to choose if he wants to tell anyone about it, Harry. Do not reveal his secret to anyone until he’s ready”.

Harry nodded.

It was sad to know about his classmate’s family. It was terrible to make the connection about the Blacks. While Draco and Neville weren’t close friends, they talked sometimes. Draco had tutored him a couple of times in Potions, together with Crabbe and Goyle. Neville had been very grateful ever since. They greeted each other politely whenever they crossed paths.

Harry didn't know how they were able to deal with it in such a mature way, knowing their family's past. Of course nothing his family did was Draco’s fault. Harry had made peace with it years ago. He guessed Neville had done the same.

Draco was different from his aunt, from his father. He was kinder, and he didn’t deserve to be judged for the crimes of his relatives.

Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts asking him what he wanted to talk about before falling to the pensieve. Harry mentioned his dream and that it wasn’t the first time it happened.

Somberly, the headmaster said it was probably the dream really happened. He mentioned how a muggle called Frank Bryce disappeared from the town where Voldemort’s father lived. Bertha Jorkins had disappeared from the place Voldemort had last been seen. And Mr. Crouch had been killed on school grounds.

When Harry asked how he could see what happened in another place, Dumbledore said it was because of a malfunctioning curse. The failed killing curse that gave Harry a scar. “Dark magic like that is always unpredictable and it leaves a residue. If Voldemort is getting stronger, as all the hints suggest, I’m afraid you’ll get more of those dreams or visions. But he can’t hurt you through them”.

Harry pondered on the statement. He would ask Sirius and Remus about it later.

“One last question, professor. Why do you think Professor Snape changed sides?”

“That’s between him and myself,” Dumbledore said.

Feeling the dismissal, Harry said goodbye awkwardly. With a smile, the headmaster wished him good luck on the third task. 

………

Despite everything happening around them, Harry paid special attention to Draco’s birthday. The tournament, the dark rumours, the murder of Crouch, nothing could stand in the way of celebrating Draco. It was his special day, and Harry would never let it pass without a proper recognition.

Harry had a quiet fight with Pansy Parkinson to decide where and how they would distribute their time with Draco. 

Their fight finished when they agreed to share lunch and afternoon with the birthday boy. It was easier with the girls mediating. Parkinson had somehow become Hermione's friend.

Hermione still spent most of her time with Harry and Ron, but whenever they got tired of studying, they were used to wandering without her. Those times, Hermione spent time with Pansy or Draco, and sometimes with other girls like Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode. It never ceased to amaze Harry, but the girls seemed to treat Hermione well.

June 5th was a Monday. The Slytherins kept to Draco’s side during breakfast and morning lessons. At lunch, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat with them at the Slytherin table.

Usually, it was Draco and a couple of his friends who sat at Gryffindor’s. The Slytherin crowd was more closed off. Braving all ranges from angry to confused stares, Harry sat at Draco’s side, close enough to brush his elbows when they ate.

The Slytherins in their year surrounded them, so the rest of the house couldn’t reach them.

After their afternoon lessons, they met outside to have some tea and pastries that Dobby prepared.

People came and went, food and refreshments appeared continuously thanks to Dobby. Their little meeting turned into a not-so-small gathering. 

Draco clearly favoured his Slytherin cohort and the Gryffindors, but he also had friendly acquaintances in other houses and years.

The Weasley twins joined for a few minutes, cracked a couple of jokes, sold some of their special snacks, and left. Luna Lovegood and Ginny stayed from the beginning to the end, and even Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum approached to wish a quick happy birthday to Draco.

A small group of Ravenclaws who shared Arithmancy and Runes with Draco were there too. So were Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott.

Harry had almost forgotten Bones’ existence, but he eyed her carefully during her stay. Luckily, she didn’t misbehave. She didn’t cross any invisible line into Draco’s space that Harry guarded from a safe distance.

It took a little more effort to keep Ginny away. Once she noticed Harry eyeing how much distance was between Draco and everyone else, she decided to hang from his arm and giggle at everything he said. Harry glared daggers at her and made desperate signs to Ron, who valued his sister enough to pull her away to a respectable distance from Draco.

Once the sun set and everyone returned inside the castle, Harry asked Draco to stay a little more time with him.

The Slytherins, especially Nott, Crabbe and Goyle, were reluctant to leave Draco behind. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione convinced them to go away.

Harry was finally alone with Draco.

He was flushed and beaming, his grey eyes sparkling with happiness after a whole day dedicated to his birthday. He should always wear that delighted glow, Harry thought. Draco should always be joyful and relaxed.

Harry led him to Hagrid’s house, where the man wished Draco a Happy Birthday and gave Harry the go ahead for his surprise.

“I’m a bit worried,” Draco muttered when they left Hagrid’s and approached the Forbidden Forest. “You don’t plan to get inside there, do you? Not after last time, right?”

Harry shook his head and laughed. “Scared?”

“As much as any sane person should be”.

There was an opening if Harry ever saw one. He bumped his shoulder playfully and smoothly caught his hand. “I’ll keep you safe”. Harry laced their fingers together.

Of course, he immediately ruined it. He turned away, unable to meet Draco’s eyes. His cheeks burned.

Draco’s fingers were cold, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

They walked for the border of the forest, until Harry found the favour he had asked Hagrid.

Buckbeak was there, loosely tied to a tree.

Draco stopped. “Tell me we aren’t riding that for my birthday”.

“We are”.

“What gave you the idea I would enjoy giving control of my life to a wild bea— creature?” He corrected himself to not offend the hippogriff.

Harry turned around and stared into the deep pool of Draco’s worried eyes. He knew choosing to include Buckbeak was taking a risk, but he knew if it worked, he could maybe sway Draco off his feet for once.

“Because you like flying as much as I do. And you like powerful, dangerous and independent magical creatures like dragons. I couldn’t get a dragon for you to ride, so I got the next best one. Hypogriffs are really smart and powerful too, you know?”

Draco blinked. His cheeks were not pale pink anymore, but almost red.

“Are you sure I can ride it safely?”

“You’ll be with me,” Harry said simply. And Hagrid would be watching from the window of his house, but Draco didn’t need to know that. It’d kill the mood.

“Fine. I’ll allow you to guide me through this. If I fall or this hypogriff hurts me, I’ll kill you”.

Harry chuckled fondly. He liked when Draco got all snappy and prideful and formal when he was a bit scared. He liked him all the time, but the hint of vulnerability was endearing.

Buckbeak was in a great mood, well fed and rested just like Harry asked Hagrid. They approached slowly and bowed. Buckbeak answered with a small bow of his own. Harry petted his beak first and then Draco joined him. After a minute of cooing at the hippogriff, it was time to fly.

Harry knew he made the right choice when he lifted Draco up to sit on Buckback's back. Draco squeaked and spluttered confusing words Harry couldn’t understand.

Not for the first time, Harry felt glad he had exercised in summer and continued to do so after the Yule Ball, when he realised he could barely lift Draco for a dance. He had grown slightly stronger. Enough to lift Draco up the wooden platform during the second task, and enough to help him to mount Buckbeak. 

Harry jumped with practised ease just in front of Draco. His days of practice with Hagrid’s help paid off. His jump was smooth and he landed softly.

“You have to hold on to me,” Harry said, trying to hide his pleased voice.

Draco put his hands on his shoulders with a barely-there grip, fingers hesitant.

That wouldn’t do.

“Hold on tight,” he said. He touched Buckbeak’s neck and clicked his tongue. It was the signal. Giant wings opened behind Harry’s legs. Draco gasped. Buckbeak ran and raised into the air.

Draco shrieked and hugged Harry tightly. His head rested on his shoulder. They were as close as Harry hoped. He took a deep breath to calm down his heart.

Harry guided Buckbeak to the lake. Once they were close, he pulled out his wand.

“Close your eyes,” he said. 

He whispered a spell.

From his pocket, a hundred of small stones flew out and floated sparsely over the water. He activated the spell and all of them transformed into tiny butterflies, shining golden under the moonlight. The lights reflected over the water. 

There were not many clouds. Yet, there was one so badly placed it covered a couple of stars. He concentrated, took a deep breath and shot a spell. It took a great amount of power. Harry felt breathless as the charm flew to the sky and dissipated the few clouds.

The stars were visible and clear.

“Open your eyes,” Harry whispered softly.

He never had been good at beautiful, delicate charms. That was more of Hermione’s or even Draco’s specialty.

For Draco, though, he had put on the effort. He had practised relentlessly, to make something worthy of Draco’s birthday.

He could say proudly that the scenery was beautiful. The lights floating over the lake. Lake shining bright, the stars glinting in contrast with the dark night sky.

“Wow”.

Draco’s breath tickled Harry’s neck. He glanced over his shoulder. Draco looked down, then up. His eyes were wide with wonder and amazement, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted.

“Look”. Harry pointed at the sky, but it wasn’t necessary. Draco found his own constellation easily. He beamed.

“You were never good at Astronomy”.

“I know,” Harry winced. “But I can point Draco anywhere in the sky”.

Draco let out an airy and shaky laugh. His fingers played with nonexistent wrinkles on Harry’s cloak.

He looked away before his instincts took over. Harry wanted to kiss him so badly.

Buckbeak was flying smoothly, doing rounds over the lake. Harry guided him to stop on the shore.

He didn’t climb down.

He turned around, getting out of Draco’s grip, and got a small package out of his pocket. He offered it without words, only with a shy smile.

Draco opened it silently.

It was a medium-sized crystal ball that showed the night sky. Its base was made of pure silver and it was decorated with small crystals. It was filled with a dark smoke that resembled the night and there were all kinds of stars floating. It was supposed to show all the stars and planets in the Milky Way.

Harry touched it with his wand and murmured. The stars twisted and moved around. Some grew bigger, as if he had applied a zoom on the sphere. When it stopped, the dragon constellation shone clearly.

“Happy Birthday”.

Draco stared. “Harry…It’s beautiful. Was it expensive?”

“No,” Harry lied.

Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry accepted defeat immediately. “Okay, it was. But not so much. I mean, I could afford it. It’s just, Sirius was talking about all that tradition of the Blacks having star names and you’re a Black too and I know you care about your family and I wanted–”.

“Harry–”.

“I just wanted to give you something you might like. As soon as I saw it I knew it had to be yours. It was too pretty to belong to anyone else”. Draco peered at him through his eyelashes. Unable to stop his mouth, Harry added “Not as pretty as you, though”.

Draco’s eyes grew huge.

OhMerlinWhatHaveIDone, Harry thought, his courage immediately slipping away.

There was something else besides surprise in Draco’s eyes. Something hidden and more intense.

“Are you–” Draco hesitated. Harry’s heart stuttered and his soul threatened to leave his body.

“Are you flirt–”

He knows, Harry thought in the fraction of a second. His hands sweated. His knee jerked. Unconsciously, his heel moved backwards and hit Buckbeak.

The hippogriff's reaction was instantaneous. Before Draco could finish the word, Buckbeak squeaked, turned around and screeched at them. His hackles were raised and his eyes were narrowed, angry and promising violence.

They froze under the menacing stare. After a minute, the glare relaxed just a little. Harry moved slowly and cooed at Buckbeak to calm him down. After a few seconds, Draco joined him. They talked softly until the feathers fell and the hippogriff turned around with a huff. 

A cloud formed in the sky. It covered the moon and shadows fell over them.The effect of Harry's spell was over.

“We should go back”.

Draco nodded, his blank face covering up his thoughts.

The trip back to the castle was fast. Harry summoned back all the stones he used to illuminate the lake and vanished them. Buckbeak flew them back without taking any turn.

Draco’s hug was the only thing that made Harry think he hadn’t ruined the night. His hands held him as close and careful as before.

Buckbeak got them out of the forest. Harry dismounted first and helped Draco, who averted his eyes. Once they were walking back, though, Draco broke the silence.

“Thank you, Harry. I had a really good time. Your gift is lovely”.

Harry glanced at him. Draco wore a small smile. He placed his hand on Harry’s arm.

“It was the best birthday gift”.

Harry beamed at him. “I’m glad you liked it. I’m sorry about Buckbeak”.

“I knew hippogriffs could be dangerous. He was on his best behaviour most of the time. I don’t blame him”.

“Yeah, he was really patient”.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “If his beak got any closer to me, though, I would’ve cursed you”.

“I don’t doubt it. I would’ve deserved it”.

“Of course you would”.

Harry chuckled. The awkwardness disappeared. He noticed, Harry thought. He reached for Draco's hand and held it in a loose grip. Draco, who was comparing hippogriffs and dragons, stuttered. He glanced at their laced fingers, then back at Harry. He blushed and looked forward. His grip tightened.

He noticed and he didn't push me away, Harry thought. Maybe he likes me a little. Maybe I could tell him I fancy him soon.

Harry walked him to the dungeons. It was still before curfew, but the castle was almost empty. Draco talked all the way, his confidence back on. He didn’t take his hand away from Harry’s, even when they crossed paths with some students. 

I’ll definitely tell him, Harry decided, back on his bed. He hugged his cloak. It had a faint trace of Draco’s smell. Harry hugged it closer. It has to be perfect. I know! After the third task. I’ll win and then take him aside and tell him. I hope he accepts me. I hope he likes me back, even if it’s a little. I’ll win for him and only him.

Chapter Text

It was finally the day of the third task. It was also the last day of exams. Gryffindor’s was History of Magic. Hermione was quizzing the unlucky souls sitting around her, ignoring the breakfast Ron pushed to her plate.

Slytherin’s last exam was Herbology.

Harry only knew that because Draco was next to him with his nose hidden behind a book.

A few seats away, the Weasley twins roared with laughter. Draco threw them a murderous glare.

“We’re never this loud,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced longingly at the Slytherin table, but he stayed at Harry’s side.

Draco could sit with the Slytherins, eat quietly and quiz his friends without the Gryffindor’s distracting him. Yet, he had chosen to sit with Harry.

“To show there’s people on your side,” Draco had said. He was proudly wearing the badge he made for that same goal.

That same morning, the newspaper arrived with their owls. Rita Skeeter published an article about Harry possibly being mental. She mentioned he claimed to have visions and weird dreams. She questioned if it was an excuse to get out of class, if he suffered hallucinations or something more serious.

Harry didn’t know how in Merlin’s name she heard about his dreams. He only told his friends, and they had been alone. Hermione suspected Skeeter had hidden in some way, and was invested in researching her.

Unfortunately, many people were used to gawking at Harry like he was an animal in a zoo. The article made it worse.

Despite the curious eyes and mocking whispers, Draco was there. His presence eased Harry’s mind, settled the atmosphere and made everything wrong fall to the background.

Draco wasn’t afraid or affected by their peers, and his confidence gave Harry strength. Whenever he raised his eyes from his book, he glared at the nosy people until they turned around. If someone dared to whisper ill of Harry, Draco spat venom until they left with the tail between their legs.

His constant attention to their surroundings distracted him from his reading. It made his choice to stay more endearing.

Draco said it was to show support, for both the impending task and the nasty article.

For Harry, it meant so much more.

Professor McGonagall interrupted his thoughts with her serious voice. “Mr. Potter, after you finish your breakfast you shall join the other champions in the room next to the hall”.

“But the task isn’t until night!” Harry exclaimed, so distressed he almost dropped his cup of tea.

“I know, Mr. Potter. The families of the champions were invited. You can say hello and stay with them until the task. Please, finish your breakfast and join the other champions”.

She walked away before Harry could process the words.

“Do you think Sirius came?” He asked quietly. “She doesn’t mean the Dursleys, does she?”

“I don’t know. But we have to hurry up for our exam”. Ron glanced at Hermione, who was already packing her books.

“It’s definitely not the Dursleys,” Draco chimed in softly. “It’s impossible for muggles to get into Hogwarts. Besides, Sirius is your guardian and your family”.

Harry nodded. “I don’t want to see them”.

“You won’t”. Draco patted his shoulder. Silent understanding passed between them. Harry made a move to hold his hand, but Draco was already standing up. He said goodbye and joined the Slytherins on the way to Herbology.

Harry followed Diggory and Krum, but he hesitated before stepping into the room. It was stupid. The Dursleys would never agree to visit a magical place. Not that they could. Yet, Harry feared to see them. His years with them were a nightmare he never wanted to go back to.

He peered through the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

Draco was right. There were no Dursleys. Instead, Sirius, Remus and even Mrs. Weasley and Bill stood there.

They all greeted him warmly. Harry received hugs, pats on the back and smiles.

They walked around the grounds, catching up and commenting on the Tournament. Mrs. Weasley and Bill were interested in Harry’s version of the previous tasks, because they only knew what the papers said and what Charlie and Percy told them.

Everyone had last-minute advice about the third task. Harry listened attentively. Bill, the curse-breaker, taught him a couple of simple spells to detect magic on inanimate objects.

They joined the Great Hall for dinner. Before stepping in, though, Sirius and Remus pulled Harry aside.

“We’re very proud of you, Harry. You’re doing an amazing job despite having the odds against you,” Remus said.

“This is exactly the kind of thing James enjoyed”. Sirius's eyes were unfocused, lost on memories that made him smile. “The attention, the promise of glory, the opportunity to show off… He would’ve loved to be a champion”.

“He wouldn’t enjoy watching Harry being in danger,” Remus chastised. “He would be mad about the unfair conditions. But he would do his best to support you through it all, Harry. He would definitely be proud of your achievements”.

“Once he saw how good you were doing, he would’ve enjoyed it,” Sirius countered. “I wish there was a Tournament when we were in Hogwarts. I would’ve been the champion. Or James. He was a natural leader and very powerful”.

“Or Lily,” Remus added.

“Mum?”

Whenever Sirius talked about Harry’s parents, he usually focused on James. Harry had learnt a lot about him. He was a kind, protective man. He had a bit of an ego, in Remus’ words, but he had a heart of gold. It was Remus who tried to add little details about Lily from time to time. Harry cherished each and every one of his words.

“She was a brilliant witch. Smart, powerful and very noble. She could’ve been the Hogwarts champion”.

“Lily was great, but she wasn’t better than James,” Sirius complained. “Or me”.

Remus chuckled. “She definetly had stronger moral values. Besides, have you forgotten how she swept the floor with you in a duel?”

“It was one time!”

“The only time that got to that point, she won”.

“She was lucky. And she didn’t dare to try it again”.

“Because you were always with James or myself”.

“I was way better than her at Transfiguration”.

“She was better in Charms and Potions”.

“Why are you taking her side!” Sirius whined. “Traitor”.

Harry laughed.

“They would’ve both been great champions. Just like you are, Harry,” Remus said.

At his side, Sirius nodded. “You got the best of them. I think you have the best chance of winning this. Don’t worry and do your best”.

“You can surrender if you see that it’s too dangerous, though,” Remus added. “You did enough”.

Harry barely heard his words. There was something itching in his mind for days.

“Do you really think I could win?”

“Of course,” both replied at the same time.

“Do you think that if I win… Maybe people would like me?”

“People already like you, Harry. Everyone with a brain loves you,” Sirius said immediately. “And if someone says the opposite, tell me and I—”.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… I want… Do you think if I win Draco would agree to go on a date with me?” Harry blurted out.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, and Remus’ face stretched into a grin.

“You’re just like James,” Sirius said fondly. “He would definitely use a chance like this to show off for Lily and ask her out”.

“Should I do it?”

“Go for it”.

Remus patted his shoulder. “I’m sure whatever it’s his answer, your friendship will survive”.

“If he says no, he’s stupid”.

“Sirius!” Remus yelled.

“But he won’t. I’ve seen him looking at you, Harry. That boy cares for you so much. You definitely stand a chance”.

Harry beamed. If even Sirius said so, there was hope.

Dinner was full of a familiar atmosphere Harry had missed since summer. Most of the Weasleys and Hermione were there, Sirius and Remus, and once he waved him over, Draco too.

There was tension only at the beginning, when Mrs. Weasley was cold with Hermione. Harry explained to her quickly the articles were lies and she immediately changed her tune. Sirius and Bill seemed to get on really well, bonding over music and adventures, and Remus was a grounding presence at his side. He usually was the mature one, but chortling and sharing jokes with Sirius made them both look young and carefree.

Harry could see the champions sitting with their families at the other tables. They were in high spirits. All of them seemed motivated to give their best in the task.

………

Draco tried to hide the pin in Harry’s pocket. He patted it down, whispered a spell to check for magical items, frowned, and took it out.

His eyelashes fluttered. He was so pretty, even frustrated about the smallest things.

“They should let you carry magical items like they did in the second task”.

“They said only wands,” Harry retorted slowly. Sirius and Remus had taken the Weasleys away with excuses, and Ron and Hermione gave them some alone time before the task.

There was a bit of nervousness making his fingers itch, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Harry had practised day and night to pass the task. He knew he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

The difficult part was to win. He didn’t mind glory or the prize money, but he knew it was his best chance to get Draco to look at him differently.

It wasn’t that Harry thought Draco would be interested in his fame or glory. He had shown he liked the real Harry for years. Their friendship proved it. But to cross the bridge of friends into something more, he needed to push a little. Make a big move. Winning the Triwizard Tournament would be perfect.

“You better get out of there alive,” Draco muttered, fixing tiny wrinkles on his robes. “You know people died before in this bloody Tournament”.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you. I also know you and your stupid saviour spirit. It worked well on the second task, but don’t do something like that ever again. This time there’s only champions and they can handle themselves”.

“If they are in danger–”.

“Harry!”

Grey eyes glared daggers, but his lips trembled. He seemed even more anxious than Harry.

Letting out a sigh, he touched Draco’s frown. “You worry too much. I’ll do fine and I’ll win”.

“Confident, aren’t we?”

“I am. You helped me so much to be here”. Harry took a deep breath. He lowered his hand from Draco’s brows to his cheek. “I’m confident because of you. I got this far because of you and if I win today it will be for you. I don’t care about anything else. I’ll show you. I’ll bring you the Cup. And then–” Harry’s voice wavered, but he cleared his throat and pushed forward. “Then I want to tell you something”.

Draco let out a shaky breath. His cheek was warm under Harry’s palm.

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you after I win”.

He scanned his eyes, looking for hints. Harry tried to keep up a calm facade. A shaky smile betrayed him.

Draco didn’t move away from his touch. He leaned into his hand. “Maybe I want to tell you something too”.

Harry gulped. Draco was looking at him with such intent… but there was softness too. It was intimate. Different. Bordering on the line between friendly and flirty.

Did he–? Was he–?

“I swear I’ll win,” Harry croaked.

Draco’ eyes were full of promises.

“We’ll talk after the task. Good luck, Harry. If you leave me hanging, I’ll curse you”.

“Don’t worry,” Harry whispered. “I’ll come back with the cup”.

………

The champions were told to enter the maze in the order of their accumulated points. Harry was in first place overall, Diggory was second, Krum third and Delacour last.

With a wave to the crowd, to Sirius, Remus, his friends, and especially Draco, Harry walked inside.

The maze was covered in fog. It was eerily quiet. Harry couldn’t hear anything outside the tall hedges.

He jogged through empty paths, using the spell “Point me,” to guide himself.

It was weird that he didn’t find obstacles.

He saw Cedric running another way, wearing a burn mark on his robes. He had already faced something even when he entered the maze after Harry.

He shook off the confusion and kept going.

He found his first obstacle ten minutes later. It was a Dementor. The cold creeped through his robes, sadness and desperation invading his senses. But Harry was used to the fear. He only needed happy memories. The most recent one took over his mind. Draco leaning into his hand, his eyes sparkling in that special way. 

A silver stag came out of his wand and charged at the Dementor. It tripped.

Harry blinked. “You’re a boggart! Riddikulus!”

The boggart turned into a group of dark balloons that popped into confetti, and it vanished. Harry kept moving forwards. He found dead ends, and turned over his steps numerous times.

The second obstacle Harry found was a golden mist. He tried to use a shrinking charm, but it passed through the mist without disturbing it.

Before he could think of another useful spell, he heard a loud shriek. It sounded like Fleur Delacour. There were no red sparks to signal the need for rescue, though.

Worried, Harry took a step towards the mist.

The world turned upside down. He stopped there, hanging. Fortunately, it only took one careful step for the world to go back to the way it was. The mist was an illusion spell.

Harry took a moment to gather his strength back and ran forwards. He didn’t know what had happened to Fleur. A part of his mind wondered if she was so hurt that couldn’t conjure the red sparks. Another part of his mind thought there was one rival less.

He could win.

It was such a terrible thought. An exciting one too. 

He took a turn, and jumped back.

There was a weird creature he had never seen before. Maybe something Hagrid bred. It was bigger than two of him, it had a hard shell and it shot fire from its tail. It looked like a fire crab, but bigger and meaner.

He tried stunning it and binding it, but it shook off the spells with ease.

Harry yelled jinxes and charms, more desperate each time the creature kept advancing, unbothered by his magic. He tripped, fell and his last Impediment Jinx hit the creature on the soft stomach. It froze. Harry fired another jinx, followed by a stunner.

The creature fell.

Harry jumped over its flailing legs and continued forward.

Then, he heard voices.

“What are you doing?”

“Crucio!”

Cedric Diggory yelled, separated from Harry by a wall of magical hedges.

Harry reacted quickly. He said “Reducio!” and opened a hole through the hedges. He fought through twigs, thorns and leaves, until he fell to the other side.

Krum was standing there, pointing his wand to a fallen Diggory. Krum turned around, ready to attack, but he froze when he saw Harry. Instead of fighting, he ran away.

Harry didn’t hesitate to attack. “Desmaius!”

Krum fell. Harry ran to Diggory. Breathless, Diggory explained Krum attacked him out of nowhere with the unforgivable curse. Neither of them knew if he attacked Fleur too.

“I thought he was a good bloke,” Harry muttered.

“Me too”.

They both agreed on conjuring red sparks over Krum’s fallen body. Some teacher would come to take him out of the competition.

It was only Harry and Diggory left inside the maze.

The realization turned the air awkward. At the first chance, they split ways.

Harry ran to the left. Diggory to the right.

The next obstacle he found was a Sphinx. It was an intimidating creature, with the head of a woman and a lioness’ body. She gave Harry a complicated riddle. Hermione or Draco would’ve been better at solving it, he thought.

He was the one to take action, not to solve mind tricks. But he had to.

He took a deep breath. He wasn’t useless. He had figured out the truth before using scarce clues.

He thought over the Sphinx words, and found the answer.

“Spider!”

The Sphinx smirked and let him pass.

Harry thanked her and ran.

According to his wand, he was in the right direction. The Sphynx said it was the most direct way to the cup.

The anticipation bubbled on his chest. There were no obstacles in sight. After a last turn, he saw it.

A pale blue light, titillating in the darkness.

The cup.

And, from the side, another figure sprinting towards it.

Harry forced his legs to go faster. He had a chance. He had to win. 

A shadow fell to Diggory’s left. Too focused on the cup, both didn’t notice until it was right there.

Harry shrieked a warning, but it was too late. The acromantula was over Diggory in a second.

From his place, Harry couldn’t see what was happening. Only the occasional brightness of spells being casted, and the movements of the angry spider. 

In seconds, it jumped back. Diggory had pushed it away. From the ground, he fired spell after spell, keeping the acromantula away.

Harry eyed the cup. Then back to Diggory. He was doing fine on his own. He didn’t need help.

He was so close to the cup. He took a couple of steps towards it.

Diggory screamed. The acromantula had avoided hexes and jinxes, and its pinzers grabbed Diggory’s leg, raising him.

Harry turned away from the cup and ran to help him.

“Expelliarmus!”

The spell forced it to drop Diggory. He didn’t stand up, but continued casting from the ground.

Their combined spells pushed the spider away. With a quick succession of stunners, knockback jinxes and full-body binds, they overwhelmed the acromantula until it fell with its frozen legs in the air.

Diggory smiled, breathing hard. “You saved me again”.

Harry shook his head. “We defeated it together”.

“You didn’t have to help me. You could’ve won”.

“You would’ve helped me too”.

Diggory nodded. “I owe you. This is the third time”.

“It doesn’t matter”.

“It does. You told me about the dragons, and helped me twice in this maze. Krum could’ve–”.

“I don’t care about those things”.

“You should take the cup. You’re closer”. Diggory winced. His leg was injured. He couldn’t run.

Harry’s eyes trailed to the cup. He snapped back to his only rival. Diggory was still on the ground.

“I don’t think I can keep going. You should go, Harry”.

It was an ugly feeling, to win because his rival was injured and attacked by another champion. It wasn’t fair.

A voice that sounded like Draco told him to stop worrying over other people and think of himself.

The victory was so close.

But Diggory had been nothing but decent throughout the whole competition. And yet, Harry had wasted precious time going for the cup instead of helping him. Diggory was hurt because of his greed.

“We could touch the cup together,” Harry said begrudgingly. Maybe he was a fool. But he wanted to be noble, like his parents, like Dumbledore, like everyone always praised on Gryffindors. Draco would mock him endlessly, but he couldn’t leave Diggory like that. “Hogwarts will win”. 

Diggory raised his wand and muttered a spell. A green glow covered his leg. The swelling decreased. There was still blood, but it didn’t look as bad as before.

He stood up, resting his weight on the hedges.

“This is the best I can do right now. I don’t want to win out of pity and you won’t win without a fair challenge. Shall we race? The winner gets the cup”.

Harry considered it. Diggory was taller, but his injury would slow him down. And, for all his Gryffindor spirit, Harry wanted to win.

“Your injury–”.

“You can give me a small advantage to make it fair. I promise I can run”.

“Alright”.

Harry let Diggory take five steps closer to the cup. He scanned himself. He was only a little beaten up. He could run.

“The first one to touch the cup is the winner. At the count of three. One, two, three”.

Harry bolted. Diggory ran too. He didn't lie. He could move despite his injury. In seconds, Harry caught up. They were nose to nose.

Harry’s vision narrowed to the cup alone. He was there in a blink.

He raised his gaze before touching it.

Diggory had stopped a few steps away. He was grinning, looking smug despite his defeat. Had he tricked Harry to let him win?

“You–!”

Harry’s fingers grazed the cup. Instantly, he felt his hand was glued to it. His feet left the ground. His stomach lurched.

Diggory’s smile disappeared, instead turning into confusion.

In a blink, Harry left in a whirlwind of colour.

.........

Harry fell to the ground.

Wherever he was, it definitely wasn’t Hogwarts. He was in a graveyard behind a small church. He could only see a small hill and an old elegant house far away.

Was it part of the task?

A small figure appeared, walking with difficulty. Harry raised his wand.

The hooded figure was carrying something. It was small and hidden in robes. It could be an infant.

Harry hesitated. He lowered his wand.

The figure stood closer and, without warning, attacked him.

“Impedimenta!”

Harry fell to the ground. His legs were glued together. He tried to raise his wand, but the stranger conjured magical ropes that immobilized him. They took Harry’s wand and pocketed it.

They left the bundle of robes on the ground and carried Harry to the closest tombstone. He was magically tied to it.

Harry resisted and shrieked for help, but the hooded person hit him with a hand that had only four fingers.

It was Wormtail.

“You!”

Wormtail casted a silencing spell and checked the ropes. Harry couldn’t move or talk at all. He could only see what was in front of him.

Harry glanced at the bundle of robes. Something or someone inside it was moving, trying to free themselves.

His scar hurt. It was a familiar pain.

Harry understood what was inside.

He needed help.

But there was nobody else there. Wormtail had his wand in pocket, Harry had no magical items with him. He couldn’t go back to school on his own.

But nobody else knew he was there.

Wait.

Somebody knew.

Cedric Diggory could help. He could tell Hogwarts’ staff that Harry disappeared. Then maybe someone would look for him.

Harry only had to wait until someone saved him. If Dumbledore came, he could stop whatever Wormtail was planning.

He had to distract him, buy time, but how?

A snake slithered into the graveyard and circled Harry and the bundle of ropes. It was Nagini, the one Harry had seen in his dreams. The one that answered to Voldemort.

Wormtail carried a heavy stone cauldron full of some potion in front of Harry. He conjured flames and the cauldron heated up quickly. Bubbles and sparks came out of the cauldron. The potion was shiny, like liquid diamonds.

“Hurry up”. The chilly voice came from the bundle of ropes.

“It’s ready, my lord,” Wormtail whimpered.

“Do it now”.

Wormtail took something out of the robes. Harry gasped, but the silencing spell kept his horror mute.

He had suspected it was Voldemort and not a child, but it didn’t look human. It didn’t have hair, its skin was scaly, dark red, raw. Its arms and legs were tiny and weak, like fragile twigs, and its face… The face was the worst of it. It was plain and snake-like, without a nose.

With a badly hidden face of disgust, Wormtail dropped Voldemort in the cauldron.

Harry pleaded silently that he drowned, or the potion was somehow wrong. It couldn’t work. Whatever they were trying to do, it couldn’t work. If it worked…

It was already terrible, but the last ingredients made it worse.

With a wave of his wand, Wormtail took something like dust out of the grave where Harry was. Loudly, Wormtail said it was the bones of Voldemort’s father, taken unknowingly given, used as one ingredient more to renew his son.

It didn’t end there.

Whimpering, Wormtail took out a silver dagger and cut his own right hand, the one with only four fingers. Loudly, between sobs, he claimed it was flesh of a servant, offered willingly to revive his master.

Harry tried not to look, but he noticed the potion had turned fiery red.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!”

Harry couldn’t move out of the way of Wormtail’s dagger. He couldn’t resist, tied as tightly as he was. He couldn’t even scream when the dagger broke the skin of his forearm and his blood fell to a small vial Wormtail had conjured.

His pain was silent, shown only on his face and his desperate shaking.

Wormtail didn’t look him in the eye as he collected the blood and left him there.

He poured it on the potion and then fell to the ground, crying and holding his stump.

The potion turned white. Smoke came out of it.

“It can’t work,” Harry thought desperately. “I’m sure Dumbledore’s coming”.

Someone tall and slim stood up in the cauldron. “Dress me,” his icy voice commanded.

Wormtail grabbed the dark robes from the ground and covered the man.

That man had a snake-like face, white skin, red eyes, and was noseless.

Lord Voldemort spared one glance at Harry, and then turned away to look at himself.

Harry willed his magic to do something. Bring back his wand, heal his arm, anything. Nothing happened.

Voldemort asked Wormtail for his arm. He touched his good arm, where the dark mark was.

Harry’s scar hurt the moment Voldemort touched the mark.

“Everyone will know I came back. Now we’ll see… we’ll know”.

Voldemort talked softly, confident and dangerous. He wondered how many of his followers would answer his call. He told Harry he was sitting on Tom Riddle’s grave, and the big house on the hills used to be Riddle's house.

Unbothered by Wormtail’s cries of pain, Voldemort told Harry how his mother was a witch that fell in love with his muggle father, but he left her because he didn’t like magic. He claimed he grew up in an orphanage and he got revenge on his father.

“But here they come. My real family,” he said in a mocking voice.

Hooded and masked people appeared. They walked slowly, taking their time drinking in Voldemort’s appearance.

He waited in silence, calm yet imperious at the same time.

One by one, the Death Eaters fell to the ground, kissed Voldemort’s robes, and formed a silent circle around him. Harry, Voldemort and the whimpering Wormtail were at the center.

Voldemort greeted them quietly.

“I smell the stench of guilt”.

The circle trembled at Voldemort’s words. Without yelling, he showed his displeasure in their lack of commitment. He said they should’ve known he wouldn’t die, he had taken precautions, they should’ve looked for him, knowing there was nobody else as powerful as him.

One of the hooded figures fell, begging forgiveness. Voldemort laughed and used the Cruciatus curse.

“Stand up, Avery. Do you beg for forgiveness? I do not have clemency. I do not forget. Thirteen long years… I’ll take what I’m owed before forgiving you. Wormtail has already paid part of his debt, hasn’t he?”

“My lord, please,” Wormtail begged.

With a flourish of his wand, Voldemort conjured a metal hand that joined Wormtail’s stump. He stopped crying. The hand moved, allowing him to inspect it. Wormtail fell to his kneeled and kissed Voldemort’s robes, thanking him.

“You didn’t help me out of loyalty, but because of fear. However, you did come to me. That’s why I forgive you. You and my loyal servant in Hogwarts made it possible for me to bring Harry Potter here”.

“My lord, if I may ask you. How did you do it?” One of the hooded figures asked. Harry had heard that voice somewhere. He couldn’t remember from whom it was.

Voldemort explained how he got stronger because of Quirrell, how the unicorn’s blood helped. Afterwards, Wormtail found him. They captured Bertha Jorkins, who under torture gave them information about a loyal Death Eater under the Imperius curse and about the tournament. Wormtail helped him free that Death Eater, who infiltrated Hogwarts to spy and get Harry into the Tournament. It was all because they needed his blood for the ritual to get Voldemort’s body back.

He sneered at his followers.

“Not all of you ran away with the tail between your legs. There are loyal people out there. My people. We will free the Lestranges and Dolohov from Azkaban. The Dementors will come to our side, they are our natural allies. Giants and werewolves will answer our call too. And you… Can I count on you at all?”

“Of course, my lord!” Different voices from the circle pledged their loyalty. They swore to serve Voldemort again. To win back his trust.

Harry catched the names, willing to remember and tell someone, Sirius or Dumbledore, later. Macnair, Avery… but then he moved on the ones Harry knew.

Nott. Crabbe. Goyle.

He knew those surnames. He had talked with boys from those families. He had walked with them and studied with them.

He had known their families were from that side.

It still hurt. They weren’t his close friends, but Harry respected them and he liked how much they cared for Draco. He knew how important they were for each other.

He knew who was next before Voldemort opened his mouth.

“My dear friend Lucius. I liked your small performance in the Quidditch Cup. Torturing muggles like the good old times. It was fun. Why are you so quiet? I thought you’d be asking to take part in the glory as soon as I came back”.

There was silence.

“My lord?” Confusion was clear in Lucius’ voice.

Voldemort stopped his pacing and stared at the tall man. He threw his head back and laughed. A cruel, evil sound that made Harry’s body hair stand up.

“Oh. You didn’t know”.

Lucius stayed silent, shivering.

“You are as cowardly as all these men. I should’ve known better than to think you were involved”.

“My lord?”

Voldemort turned to the crowd. “Do you think Wormtail is clever or powerful enough to escape from the Aurors on his own?”

Wormtail hung his head low.

“No, my lord,” Nott muttered.

“Of course not. He was stupidly caught because of his mistakes. He was made a fool during his trial. He would be lost if it weren’t for Lucius’ wife. She helped Wormtail escape the aurors just before he was sent to Azkaban”.

It was like someone had slapped Harry. Narcissa Malfoy had been good to him. She had bought him food and clothes, she had smiled and talked softly, she had allowed Draco to spend time with him.

And yet.

“She gave Wormtail a spare wand, money and information about where I could be. She sent him to look for me. She gave us access to some of her family’s houses, so we could stay there comfortably. She bought all the ingredients we needed for the potion, and sent us constant reports about the Tournament and the Ministry. Twelve years too late to move, but at least she did something. She helped me more than any of the marked men present here tonight. You must be proud of her, Lucius”.

He immediately fell to his knees. “My lord. My wife and I have always been loyal to you. She knows I am under suspicion of the Ministry and Dumbledore. She acted following what is best for you, my lord. She knew to not leave traces. I won’t claim the honour of helping you, that was all her doing. She did it all thinking of our common beliefs. I couldn’t be more grateful for a woman like her”.

“She paid back your lack of action, Lucius. Good for you”.

“Thank you, my lord”. Lucius kissed Voldemort's robes and walked back to his place in the circle.

Voldemort didn’t seem as pleased. A small sneer curled his lips.

“Despite the good deeds, I ought to ask. For all of you that claim you never stopped believing in me, I’ve heard interesting things from my spy. I’ve read stories on the papers. What is it, Lucius? Isn’t your son best friends with Harry Potter? Does he enjoy wasting time and resources on muggle filth and beasts?”

Harry’s stomach and heart sank. Draco. They were talking about him. He moved against the magical ropes, but he couldn’t free himself.

“I had the displeasure of meeting him and Mr. Potter almost four years ago. They were very chummy. Your son said very funny things, Lucius. He refused to help me. Instead, he chose to help my enemy, who is here tonight. My spy says he keeps trailing after Potter, like a blood traitor servant. Why is it that you and your wife claim to be so loyal, but your own blood rejects and insults me?”

Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, just like Harry felt. He had forgotten. Draco had never told his parents what happened in their first year, when they faced Quirrell.

They didn’t know there was a spy. Draco had been loud and proud of being Harry’s friend. Draco’s parents were so deep into Voldemort’s clutches, but Draco wasn’t.

“Answer me, Lucius. I am generous with the ones who help me, but I am not a forgiving fool”.

“It's my fault, my lord,” Lucius said. “My son is only a child. He was only following my orders to befriend that half-blood boy”.

“You ordered him?”

“Yes, my lord. I thought it would be good for my family’s reputation. I didn’t know– He didn’t know it was you he offended back then. He was confused and trying to play his part. He is still playing his role, but he knows our true loyalties. He would’ve never offended you, my lord”.

Voldemort raised his wand. “Crucio!”

Lucius Malfoy fell to the ground, screaming so loud Harry was sure the muggles in the village would hear. He trashed in the ground, haughtiness and appearances forgotten. The spell finished and he stayed there, panting.

“Are you sure your own flesh and blood hasn’t turned into a blood traitor, Lucius? Are you sure you will follow me as dutifully as your wife has done?”

“Of course, my lord”.

“And will your son do the same?”

“Yes, my lord”.

“Good. You better remember you are promising your whole family’s service. You better keep your word. But I don’t forget any offense, Lucius. Crucio!”

It was longer this time. Minutes passed, but it felt like hours, while Lucius Malfoy screamed in agony on the ground. Voldemort let him go without showing a hint of empathy.

“That’s enough. I won’t forgive any of you for your cowardice. You will serve me the right way this time. I expect great things from all of you, and your bloodlines will continue your service in the future. Do not disappoint me”.

“We will do anything you ask, my lord,” one of the hooded figures said. The circle murmured their agreement.

“Now that’s settled, let’s go back to our fine guest. Mr. Harry Potter. I’m sure a lot of you know him”.

Half of Harry’s mind was still reeling from what he heard about the Malfoys. Draco’s parents, who swore to follow Voldemort again. The other half fought to concentrate on Voldemort’s speech. The man explained how Lily Potter’s sacrifice was old magic that protected Harry. It was why he couldn’t touch him before.

“It doesn’t matter. Now I can touch him”. He put one finger on Harry’s cheek. There was so much pain, Harry thought his head would explode. Looking into Voldemort’s red eyes was painful, but his touch was like torture.

Voldemort recalled how his rebounded curse hit him, and he was left as something less than a spirit, less than a ghost, but he didn’t die. He said he waited for one of his Death Eaters to find him, but nobody did.

The circle trembled at his words.

Voldemort explained how he convinced Quirrell to let him possess his body, how he tried to get the Philosopher’s Stone, but he failed because of Harry Potter and his friends.

Like an afterthought, he threw another Cruciatus curse to Lucius Malfoy. He continued talking over his cries, explaining how he went back to the forest where he waited for someone to possess.

“Then, dear Narcissa decided to act”. He stopped the curse on Lucius and waved his hand to signal him to stand up. “She followed Wormtail's case closely and she rescued him from the aurors. He looked for me around the country. The rats gave him information. He was aware Bertha Jorkins would be around because of Narcissa. He found Jorkins and cursed her. We got so much information out of her. The tournament, the existence of my loyal Death Eater waiting for me. But the ways I used to break the memory charms that had blocked her mind were too strong. In the end, her body and mind was too broken. I couldn’t possess her, so I got rid of her”.

Voldemort continued explaining how he needed the three ingredients for his potion to get back to his body. How he was too weak to get Harry during the Quidditch Cup. He waited for his Death Eater to get inside of Hogwarts and planned to get Harry out of there using the cup as a portkey.

“All of this, because of a boy who everyone said was my fall”.

He pointed his wand at Harry and cancelled the silencing spell.

“Crucio!”

Seeing it in action didn’t prepare Harry to feel the effect of the curse. It was like his bones were melting in acid, like his head was split open, like every single one of his nerves were on fire. He screamed, the pain of his throat becoming nothing in front of the burning of his nerves. He wished to pass out. For a second, he wished to die.

The pain was over. He fell, the magical ropes were the only thing keeping his body straight. He heard laughter. The Death Eaters were laughing, Lucius Malfoy among them.

“You see how stupid it was to think this boy could defeat me. It was said this boy was more powerful than me. It was said he had killed me. Shall we test it? Now he is on his own, without his mother, without Dumbledore, and without his friends. I’ll give him one chance to fight. There will be no doubt who is the strongest. Wormtail, free him and give him back his wand”.

Harry tried to tense his legs before Wormtail cut the ropes. He considered running away, but the Death Eaters closed ranks. He would be captured before taking one step.

“Have you been taught to duel, Harry?” Voldemort asked. “First we bow”.

Harry didn’t want to bow, but Voldemort threw a spell to bend his spine.

“Shall we begin?”

Before Harry recovered from the forced bow, Voldemort fired a Cruciatus. Harry fell, screaming. Once again, he wished to pass out. The pain was too much.

The man stopped. Only then, Harry got his hearing back. The Death Eaters’ laughter was louder. They threw in taunts and jeers.

“You can have a little break,” Voldemort mocked him. “Do you want me to repeat it? Answer me. Beg me to spare you”.

Harry refused to answer. Because of his silent denial, Voldemort used the Imperious curse on him. But Harry could overpower it. Instead of begging like his enemy wanted him to, Harry yelled “I won’t!”

The mocking laughter stopped.

Voldemort’s red eyes flashed dangerously.

“You won’t? Obedience is a virtue I’d like to teach you before killing you… Perhaps with another shot of pain?”

Voldemort raised his wand, but Harry was ready. He jumped aside and hid behind a tombstone, evading the curse.

His heart was beating wildly. Cold sweat covered his face.

What could he do? It had passed a lot of time, but nobody had shown up. Would Dumbledore come to save him? Sirius? Remus?

Voldemort was getting closer, mocking him for hiding.

Nobody would help him. There was no way he could defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Was he going to die hiding?

No.

If he were to die, he would go down fighting. 

“Don’t think like that,” a known voice sounded in his ears. “You promised me you’d win and come back, didn’t you? You can’t give up”. Immediately, Harry’s grip on his wand relaxed. It wasn’t a desperate clutching anymore. Instead, it was firm and confident.

“There you go. We practised so many spells and duelling for this task. You can do it”. Draco’s voice was soft and reassuring. Harry knew he was imagining it. Draco wasn’t there with him. He was grateful Draco wasn’t at his side. But he also wished his presence, his voice, his warmth were real.

“You faced him before. You won when you were a baby, and you won when you were eleven, and then again when you were twelve”.

“I wasn’t alone then,” Harry whispered. “I had my family, and my friends. I had you too”.

“You can do it, Harry. You can get time, or use any means to escape. You don’t have to beat him fairly. You only have to live. You promised me”.

“But I–”.

“Don’t noble Gryffindors do anything to fulfill their promises?”

Yes, Harry thought. He was a Gryffindor. He didn’t feel brave at the moment, but he could be. He could be brave, and noble, and everything the Sorting Hat said if it meant coming back to Sirius, to his family, his friends, and Draco.

“Don’t forget the hat almost sorted you into Slytherin. You are resourceful and cunning too. Use everything you have to your advantage”.

“I will,” Harry thought. “I will come back to you”.

The strategy took him seconds. A mix between the first task and the spells he mastered for the third. He muttered the traps and shot spells quietly, like a Slytherin would. Then, bravely and stupidely, he stood up to face his foe. Like a true Gryffindor would.

“Are you done hiding?” Voldemort stood there, in front of a barrier of his followers.

“Yes,” Harry said. “Oppugno!”

Dozens of bird-rocks flew to Voldemort. The transformations were horrible. They didn’t have beaks or claws. But they had wings, they were pointy, and they flew directly to their target, surrounding him from all directions.

Voldemort vanished half mid-air and sent back the other half.

But Harry knew he would do that. He conjured a smoke screen, used “Engorgio” to turn the rocks bigger and sent them back to Voldemort. Hiding, he ducked and shot a ball of fire, followed by ice daggers, then fire again.

“Don’t interfere!” Voldemort yelled, vanishing the rocks and using a shield to block the ice and fire. “He’s mine! Crucio!”

Vapour coming from the ice and fire made the smoke denser. Harry ducked and rolled. He was agile, and he used it to move quietly out of Voldemort’s sight.

He sent back more rocks, more ice, more fire.

Voldemort blocked it all without breaking a sweat.

Harry ran to the right, firing body-binding curses, disarming spells and jinxes. Voldemort blocked it all.

Harry ran back to the left, mixing his loud jinxes with whispered transfiguration spells. Voldemort didn’t seem to notice.

Once the field was set, Harry vanished all the smoke and yelled “Lumos Maxima!”.

He closed his eyes just in time, ducked and ran forward.

He had transfigured rocks and tombstones into mirrors. All of them reflected the light coming from his wand and blinded for an instant Voldemort and his followers.

“Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!” Harry shot in all the directions he could with his eyes closed, moving, rolling and tripping. Doing everything to not stay in a fixed place.

“Stupefy!”

“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort yelled.

Red and Green collided. A golden light appeared, so luminous Harry could see it through his eyelids.

Harry opened his eyes.

There was some kind of golden cage around Voldemort and him.

They were connected. No. Their wands were connected. A phoenix sang somewhere out of sight. Golden stones moved to Harry. His gut felt they were important. He willed the stones to move to Voldemort, and they did.

When the stones touched Voldemort’s shaking wand, painful shrieks came out of it and figures erupted. The ghost of Wormtail’s hand was first. Then, an old man Harry saw murdered in a nightmare. A woman that Harry saw on the newspaper, Bertha Jorkins.

They were like shadows, like weak ghosts, but they moved and talked. They yelled encouragement to Harry, circling inside the golden cage, while the Death Eaters circled outside, asking for instructions.

Harry’s parents came out of Voldemort’s wand. First his father, with messy hair and a face he knew only in pictures and mirrors. Then, his mother appeared. She had loving eyes, but a determined expression.

Harry’s heart stuttered and his lungs stopped working.

“It’s going to be fine. You can do it!” His mother told him. “Breathe, Harry”.

“When the connection is broken, we’ll have a few seconds before disappearing”. His father paced in front of him. “We’ll give you time. Take the portkey back to Hogwarts. Do you understand, Harry?”

He nodded.

“Run!”

Harry raised his wand. The golden light connecting his wand and Voldemort’s disappeared. The ghosts floated in front of Voldemort to form a barrier. The connection was broken.

Harry ran. He sprinted like he never did before, firing spells over his shoulders. He jumped behind an angel statue.

“Accio!” He yelled pointing to the Triwizard Cup.

It flew to him and he grabbed it.

Voldemort shrieked in outrage, but Harry was already disappearing in a whirlwind of colour.

In a second, it was over.

Harry fell to the ground. He was out of the maze.

There was so much noise. And people. So many people. He was surrounded by adults. Aurors, teachers, Dumbledore. He saw Sirius and Remus yelling and elbowing people out of their way.

“Where’s Draco?” He croaked.

“Harry!”

Harry twisted his head towards the voice. White hair, pale face, scared grey eyes met his.

There he was.

Harry angled his body to him and tripped forward. He snatched his arms from the teachers, from the aurors, from anyone else trying to hold him.

He didn’t stop until he was close enough. Harry fell forward, right into waiting arms. 

“I came back,” Harry mumbled. “Voldemort’s back”. As soon as he closed his mouth, he passed out.

Chapter Text

Draco watched the beginning of the third task in a daze. There were four champions standing in the Quidditch pitch, but three of them were part of the blurry background.

One person shone so bright he eclipsed everyone else. He wore simple muggle clothes, appropriate to move fast and run in the maze. His hair was slightly more disheveled than usual. The amount of times he passed his fingers through his dark curls showed Harry was a bit nervous. The glasses Draco had fixed on his face were crooked again.

Harry wasn’t elegant or imposing.

He was perfect anyway.

A cannon roared.

Harry was the youngest and the one who was placed first. He would be the champion to enter the maze first.

Harry locked eyes with him for a second before he disappeared into the maze.

Everyone clapped. Mechanically, Draco did the same, though his hands lacked strength. His chest bubbled with fear and excitement.

He couldn’t erase his worry for his friends’ safety. It was good it was the last task, though. One way or another, the tournament would finally be over.

Though, the words Harry said to him before…

There had been clues Draco refused to believe before, but his suspicions had grown lately. His words had lightened up hope.

Harry was definitely flirting with him. He had done so on his birthday, and he had done the same before the task.

Maybe, possibly, Harry liked him back.

Nobody could blame a true Slytherin for jumping on the opportunity. Draco had a dozen reasons to wait, a carefully thought out plan, but in the moment he forgot to think. It had been instinctual, to answer in the same flirty way, to lean into the contact that Harry offered, and to tell him he wanted to tell him something too.

It hadn’t been his wittiest moment.

What if he had misread everything? Maybe his own feelings were blinding him.

Did Harry even like him in that way?

Confused and with a time limit, Draco turned to Pansy. After ordering Vince and Greg to save their seats, he guided her away from the stands.

In hushed words, he summed up his growing feelings for Harry and the mixed signs he was getting.

Pansy raised her eyebrows when he finished. She looked unimpressed. “Of course he likes you, you idiot. I thought you knew”.

“How could I know that!” Draco whispered furiously. “You should have told me!”.

“I thought you were waiting for him to get over you”.

“Why would I want that?”

“Because Potter is an ill-mannered, self-centered git and you could do so much better?”

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

People from the stands heard his shriek and turned to look at them. Draco felt his face getting warm. He glared imperiously until people turned away.

Pansy groaned and raised her hands to the sky. “Merlin. You’re done. I hoped you knew better than to fall for a Gryffindor”.

“Pansy!”

“Alright. Alright. I get it. I won’t talk badly about your Potter. Anyway, if you want him, you can have him. Believe me, he’ll accept anything you offer”.

“So… Do you think he actually meant it? What do you think he’ll say after the task? Will he ask me to go out with him?”

“I’m sure”.

Draco giggled. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to jump and maybe do a little dance.

“What should I do?”

Somehow, all the complications faded in the background. Maybe Draco would’ve to come out to his friends earlier than planned. Maybe his relationship would have to be a secret for some time. Maybe he could talk to his mother and she would help him convince Father to accept him. 

There was so much stuff he had considered… But Harry liked him back!

Nothing else mattered anymore.

Draco would have stayed there, giggling to himself, if it weren’t for Pansy. She pulled him back to their seats and deflected their friends’ questions.

Draco eyed the maze, daydreaming of what to do once Harry got out. There was so much he wanted to say!

It was unfortunate there weren’t screens or some way to see inside the maze. It was boring for everyone waiting.

Arming himself with patience, Draco waited for Harry.

Waited.

And waited.

“It must be a tough competition inside,” Theo mumbled.

“Of course it is. It’s their last chance to win. They’ll fight with everything they’ve got. Who do you think will lose first?” Blaise glanced at them. “I’m betting Potter calls for help soon”.

“Hey!” Draco glared daggers and pointed at Blaise's chest, where there was one of the badges he made to support Harry. He had forced all his friends and younger Slytherins to wear them. “We’re rooting for Harry. Don’t speak ill of him”.

Blaise laughed. “I have nothing against him, but he’s the youngest. He’ll shoot red sparks soon”.

“Delacour hasn’t performed well. I think she will be out first,” Theo said. 

“She did well on the first task,” Pansy huffed. “If anything, Diggory will fail”.

It turned out that neither of them were right. When the first red sparks appeared above the maze, the crowd held their breath. After a few minutes, the teachers retrieved an unconscious Viktor Krum.

Vince let out a wounded sound. He had bet a galleon to the twins that the Quidditch star would win.

The teachers levitated a stretcher carrying the Durmstrang champion to the hospital wing, to wake him up in private. His family in the stands trailed after him.

Everyone whispered, changing their bets and theorizing on what took Krum out.

Fifteen minutes later, red sparks appeared, and the teachers retrieved a pale Fleur Delacour. She looked out for Madame Maxime and spoke quickly in French, not caring for the volume. Draco caught a few words, like “Unforgivables,” and “Didn’t seem like himself”. 

What was she talking about?

He exchanged a look with Blaise, who understood French too. Blaise nodded and walked down the stands, closer to the Beauxbatons crowd.

He came back with a spring in his step.

“Apparently, she was the first to fall. She had some kind of duel with Krum. Delacour claims he used the Cruciatus, which is nuts. Obviously Krum would never do that. She’s a sore loser and wants the jury to annul this task”.

Vince and Greg laughed with Blaise, believing his every word.

Draco eyed Fleur warily. She was frantic, arguing with Madame Maxime and pointing to the maze. She didn’t seem the type to lie like that. But Krum wasn’t the type to use dark magic in a competition either.

“She said Krum didn’t look like himself,” Draco wondered aloud. “Maybe someone cursed him or confounded him. Maybe a spell went wrong”.

“Or someone used the Imperius,” Theo added quietly.

“Shut up, that’s too dark”. Pansy elbowed Theo harshly. He shoved her back. She stepped on his foot and turned to Draco, ignoring Theo’s grunt of pain. “I believe Fleur’s right. Krum might be desperate enough to use dark magic”.

“Delacour is whining because she lost,” Blaise complained. “Krum has never cheated in a competition, and he’s a Quidditch star. He knows better than to use such tricks”.

Greg sighed. “At least there’s only two left. I hope it will finish soon. I’m hungry”.

Hogwarts students cheered in the background. There were only Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory in the competition. Draco stared at the silent maze. There were no red sparks coming out of it.

Fleur and Madame Maxime approached Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore. It was just a second, but Draco saw a diminute frown appear on the face of the usually calm man.

“It has to end well,” Draco thought. “Nothing’s wrong with the Tournament. Whether Harry wins or not, he will come back safe”.

Draco’s self- assurance lasted until Diggory came out of the maze. Dirty, limping and confused, Diggory waved at the crowd that jeered madly.

“Harry hasn’t come back yet? He touched the cup ten minutes ago”.

The bubble of happiness and excitement popped.

There was something wrong.

Dumbledore was already standing up, whispering quickly to McGonagall and Moody.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

………

“Voldemort’s back”.

Harry fell forwards and Draco caught him.

He was hauntingly pale under layers of sweat and dirt. There was a cut on his arm. It wasn’t bleeding too much, but it was an open wound. Nervous spasms jerked Harry’s body, even unconscious. Telltale signs of an attack with a dark curse.

Probably the Cruciatus.

Something that bad couldn’t be part of the Tournament.

Harry hadn’t been overconfident or smug, but he had been determined. He had walked into the maze with his eyes shining and he returned so exhausted he passed out.

He was cold and injured. Once again he survived something a boy his age shouldn’t face.

Draco felt tears pooling in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Not in front of everyone, when Harry was vulnerable and needed him.

He said He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back.

How did he know? Did they meet? Did Harry fight alone?

Draco couldn’t stop picturing horrible scenarios. He wanted to ask, but he also wanted to let Harry rest, to protect him from prying eyes and demanding questions.

It was unfair how hurt Harry was. It was unfair that not only he had been forced to participate in the bloody Tournament, but he had been attacked by something far too dangerous.

A hand touched his shoulder.

Draco’s vision and hearing, which had narrowed on the boy he was holding, came back to his wide range. There was noise in the background. Cheers from the stands. Music. Worried whispers escalating around him.

“Mr. Malfoy, let me take Mr. Potter to the hospital wing,” Professor Moody said.

Draco shook his head and tightened his grip on Harry.

There were many people around them. Teachers, but also aurors. They were loud. A couple of them tried to ask questions to the unconscious Harry. Stupid people with wrong priorities. They tried to push Draco aside, but he held his ground.

When had the aurors arrived?

Dumbledore was close too. Draco’s mind worked quickly, connecting the dots. The headmaster had called the aurors after Cedric reported Harry’s disappearance from the maze. It was the only answer.

Finally, Sirius and Remus arrived at their side. Ron and Hermione appeared too, after elbowing adults and stepping on their feet to open a path to them.

“How is he? Should we wake him up?” Remus looked at Dumbledore, waiting for some kind of sign. The old man was eyeing them, but he didn’t approach them. He stayed away, talking with a concerned Minister.

Sirius checked Harry for injuries. He let out a whimper when he saw the wound on his arm.

“What is this? He’s bleeding. This wasn’t made by a creature. What does this mean? Moony?”

Hermione cried silently. Ron stood at her side, pale and with his eyes fixed on Harry’s blood.

Remus raised his wand, but Professor Moody cleared his throat loudly.

“Are you sure you want to wake him up here? In front of everyone?”

Unknown aurors were still surrounding them. Moody eyed them distrustfully and barked at them to back off.

“We should get inside the castle,” Remus agreed.

Draco noticed the teachers were calling the students, herding them back to their rooms.

The jury was discussing furiously under privacy charms. A couple of aurors stood next to them, taking notes silently. Cedric and Fleur were there, gesturing wildly.

What had they seen? What did they know?

“Let’s go. Be careful with Harry”.

Sirius opened a path for them. Draco followed him, carrying Harry with Remus’ help.

Dumbledore stayed back. The students were already far away, and the teachers didn’t let them stray away to pester them with questions.

Their small group made it to half the path to the castle when Harry woke up.

“Wha- What?” Harry immediately fought Draco’s hold. Unseeing green eyes were still captured in the maze and whatever hell he faced.

It broke Draco’s heart.

“Harry, it’s me”.

Harry stopped fighting. He let out a shaky exhale.

“Draco?”

“I’m here”.

Harry stumbled closer. His fingers held Draco’s arm so tight it hurt.

“You’re safe, Harry,” Sirius added. “We’re taking you to the hospital wing”.

“Sirius? Am I in Hogwarts?”

Everyone exchanged confused glances.

“What do you mean?” Remus used his most gentle voice. “You came out of the maze. You were always in Hogwarts grounds”.

“It was a trap! I was transported somewhere else!”

“Wha–”

Professor Moody coughed and interrupted Sirius. “Dumbledore should be here to listen to this. It’s new information,” he said. “Shall someone fetch him?”

“Send a Patronus”. Sirius didn’t take his eyes away from Harry. 

Moody grumbled. “He’s with Fudge right now. I wouldn’t want him listening in. He will insist on following. That little man likes to impose stupid things to make himself feel important. He can be bothersome”.

Sirius let out a dismissive grunt. “You go then”.

There was a beat of silence.

“I have orders from Dumbledore himself. I have to stay with Potter”.

“When did he tell you that? Why you?”

“If aurors try to get their noses into our business, I am the only one who can tell them off. They still respect me”.

“I’ll fetch Dumbledore,” Remus said softly. “You can stay with Harry, Sirius”.

“And show your face in front of the Minister? I don’t think so, Lupin. An infamous werewolf won’t be well received. Black, you should go. Nobody will look down at Potter’s pure-blood guardian”.

“I’m not leaving Harry!”

Sirius had not finished talking, when his body suddenly jerked. He tripped and almost fell. Remus stabilized him, frowning.

“Are you okay?”

Moody huffed. “It must be the stress. Stronger men have fallen under similar circumstances. Forget it, Black. You can’t walk all the way back. You’re weak. Let’s go to the hospital wing”.

“I’m not weak!” Sirius protested.

“You should rest. Let someone else fetch Dumbledore”.

“I can do it! Watch me”.

Muttering complaints and insults at Moody, Sirius jogged back.

Moody looked at Sirius disappear in the distance. Once he was lost in the darkness, he turned around. “Well. Keep going. They’ll catch up with us soon”.

Their steps were quick and loud in the empty grounds. All the students were already inside the castle and there was nobody else close. The aurors and some teachers were out of sight, still in the Quidditch pitch.

Harry wasn’t shaking anymore, but his eyes were wild, looking around frantically and clinging to Draco and Remus. He had lived something terrible. They needed to get to a safe place to hear him out.

For a brief second, Draco felt something flying past him. Like a rush of cold wind. He shivered. It disappeared before he could fully register the feeling. When he looked, there was nothing.

At Harry’s other side, Remus stiffened.

“I have to go back”. He stopped walking and let go of Harry’s arm. “I forgot to tell Sirius something”.

Everyone else stopped too. They were in front of the main gates of the castle. 

“It must be urgent to leave us right now,” Moody grumbled.

“It’s crucial,” Remus said, calm and confident.

Harry didn’t seem pleased. The walk back to the pitch would take no less than ten minutes, maybe longer.

Draco tried to give the man a look to convince him to change his mind, but Remus wasn’t meeting his eyes. He was staring at the empty space.

“I must go. I may need someone to help me with Sirius. We need to. Something urgent. Ron? Hermione? Draco? Can you go with me? Professor Moody will take care of Harry”.

The three of them plus Harry protested loudly.

“You don’t need the three of us!”

“Harry needs us!”

“I don’t want them to go!”

The yelling grew louder. Moody cleared his throat until they stopped.

“Only one or two of you, then”.

“I’m not leaving Harry,” Draco said vehemently. Harry squeezed his hand in gratitude.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

“I’ll go,” she gave up with a sigh.

Remus and Hermione followed back Sirius' steps.

Moody turned to them with a frown. “We may see nosy people in the halls. I know a secret path to the hospital wing. It’s shorter too. Follow me”.

Draco and Ron helped Harry to follow Moody’s quick pace. They didn’t step inside the castle. Instead, they walked next to its stone walls.

“You better tell us what happened, Potter”.

Harry hesitated.

Moody’s voice softened. “There’s nobody else here".

Harry took a deep breath. He talked in short sentences. Each word seemed to be painful.

And it was.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. He had gotten his power and his body back helped by Wormtail. He had used his blood in his potion and he had tortured him. Harry had duelled that man using his full power and he survived thanks to some unknown magic that came out of his wand.

“Did the Death Eaters answer his call?” Moody asked.

“A lot of them apparated there. Draco. I’m sorry. I saw–”

He stopped and gulped, averting his eyes.

Draco knew what Harry saw. He could deduce it from his face and his voice.

“Was my father there?” He knew it was a possibility his father would go back to his old master, and yet, he had hoped it would never happen.

Ron made a surprised noise that he covered with a cough.

Harry nodded.

“Of course he was. He and all the other cowards,” Moody huffed. “What did the Dark Lord do to them? Did he forgive them?”

“Wait. I forgot! I have to tell Dumbledore. There’s a spy in the castle! A Death Eater!”.

“What! Who?” Ron shrieked.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know, but Voldemort said–”

“I know who it is,” Moody said. “Tell me what he did to the Death Eaters”.

“Was it Karkaroff?”

“Karkaroff ran away today. He’s a coward and a traitor, and he will be killed. He’s not the spy”.

“Then who?”

“Dumbledore will take care of it. Keep talking”.

Draco frowned. Moody wasn’t talking kindly anymore. He was frantic. Probably worried over what happened.

Ron nudged Harry gently. He continued the story. He mentioned how You-Know-Who had claimed his Death Eaters betrayed them. How only a couple of them remained loyal and chose to go to Azkaban instead of denying him. He avoided Draco’s eyes when he mentioned one of them helped Wormtail to escape and meet his master when he was weak in Albania.

Harry’s attitude meant his family was involved.

The cloud of disappointment and fear Draco was trying to ignore grew so much it was impossible to deny.

Father’s master, The Dark Lord, was back.

It meant war, and if Harry’s behaviour was any clue, Father had chosen a side.

He had to act fast. Maybe convince Mother to separate themselves from the Malfoy name. Or maybe she could convince Father. Would they have to run away? To move?

If that man came back, Harry would be in more danger than ever. The previous years would be nothing. Draco didn’t want to stay away from him. His family, though… If Mother and him convinced Father to desert, they’d have to move away. There was no other choice. Draco had heard whispers about what happened to deserters and their families.

What to do?

Ron patted his shoulder. Draco blinked back to their reality. Ron was looking at him with grim understanding. They had both grown hearing stories about the terror the Dark Lord brought. They had both heard how many people died, how many were tortured, how many fought. They knew they’d have to choose a side.

Harry’s voice had almost disappeared. He refused to elaborate on what happened in the graveyard, but Moody pushed for answers. He was particularly interested in the punishments the Dark Lord applied. Harry muttered that some Death Eaters had been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse.

“Who?” Moody leaned closer.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Harry whispered, so quiet like he was trying that Draco didn’t hear.

Draco heard it clearly.

He stopped listening to anything else.

His father had been tortured. Who knew for how much time. Exposure to the Cruciatus Curse could affect someone’s nervous system, memory and it had many more side effects.

Harry had already recovered, at least from the worst of it. He wouldn’t have lasting damage. What about Father? Would he be alright?

What was he thinking? Throwing himself at the feet of a master that would torture him.

Draco didn’t understand him. He didn’t. He hated his choices. But his heart still ached imagining his father’s pain.

Once Harry was safe and taken care of, Draco would have to do something. Send a letter. Use his mirrors. Contact mother. Contact his aunt.

If Father was so foolish as to get himself back in that man’s clutches, Draco would need help to get him out. 

They advanced close to the walls for long minutes. The path seemed endless. Draco was sure they had walked more than if they had gone inside the castle. Harry had already finished his story and they were still walking.

Was it necessary to take a detour?

Harry was really exhausted. His arm was still bleeding. Draco couldn’t close his wound with magic.

Moody stopped suddenly.

“It’s here. I’ll open the passage”.

They were in a hidden corner from the castle. It made sense for there to be a secret passage, even if it didn’t appear in the Marauders’ Map. They were away from the windows. Even looking from the upper floors or the towers, nobody would see them.

Moody got out his wand. But instead of tapping the wall, he turned around and cast a quick stunning spell.

Ron fell to the ground.

Draco didn’t have time to process what happened.

Moody raised his wand again. Purely because of reflex, Draco raised a shield that stopped the curse on time.

Without someone to balance him out, Harry stumbled back. He managed to remain on his feet and he took out his wand quickly.

“Professor! What are you doing?” Draco scrutinized the man. He had never liked him. Ever since he transformed him into a ferret, fear and resentment always rose at his appearance. Yet Draco had never believed the ex auror would attack a student like that. Especially not a Weasley.

Could it be an impostor? There was nothing amiss in his appearance. He looked the same as ever… except for a wild glint that had appeared on his eyes. “Are you under the Imperius curse? A potion? You aren’t Professor Moody, are you?”

Fake-Moody laughed. “Forget about it, boy. You’ll never guess it. You’re quick, Malfoy. I’ll give you that. But you’re no match for me. Give up now and you won’t be hurt”.

“Don’t you dare threaten him!” Harry shot a disarming spell, but the man evaded it and shot back four silent curses that broke Draco’s shield.

Harry immediately raised another shield, blocking a stunner in the fraction of a second.

“The Dark Lord has come back!” Fake-Moody declared triumphantly, slashing his wand through the air. “Your family’s on thin ice, Malfoy. They’ve done well enough to pass by, but your actions taint their good deeds. Join me and give me Harry Potter, and nobody else will be hurt”.

Draco felt panic rising on his throat. “My family–”

“The Dark Lord already knows of your undesirable friends,” Fake-Moody said. “Your mother and your father had sworn loyalty to him. If you don’t fall in line, they will pay. Do you want them to get tortured again? Join me and get Potter”.

“Who are you?” Draco asked with a thin voice.

“I’m the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant. I’m what you should aspire to be. You should obey me. After I’ve killed Potter, I’ll be closer than a son to him”.

“You’re using Polyjuice!” Harry yelled. “You killed Crouch!”

Fake-Moody’s face adopted an expression of gleeful savagery. “You’re bloody right I did. I killed that stupid man. One more thing I share with my lord”.

The man was dangerous and ready to fight. Only then, Draco understood he had cursed Remus, maybe Sirius too. How did he fail to notice Remus' weird attitude? It was definitely the Imperious Curse. And Sirius… Maybe he wasn’t under an unforgivable, but he had been tricked. All of them had been.

What was the order he gave to Remus? Would he simply make time, or would he attack Hermione or Sirius?

Draco pushed far away his worries. He had to focus on the threat at hand. He put all his thoughts and his feelings into a box and closed it. Applying occlumency was hard, but he had practised so much he could do it in his sleep.

His mind was clear. He had to think. He had to understand, to plan and to fight. Once he won, he could go back to his worries.

One thing the man shared with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Something that Harry said during their walk resonated in his brain.

“You’re Crouch’s son. Bartemius Crouch Junior. You killed your father,” Draco said with disgust.

“I did. Because he was a disgrace that chose to protect the filth. He didn’t deserve to share our surname, nor to be called my family”.

Harry held his wand threateningly. “I saw your trial! You tortured and killed people! You’re supposed to be dead”.

“Your mother isn’t the only one willing to go to extremes to protect her son,” Barty Jr. grunted. “Mine loved me enough to change places with me. She stayed in Azkaban until her death. My father only allowed me to escape because it was her wish. He kept me under the Imperius curse for years, until I grew strong enough to throw it off. My stupid father should’ve died instead of her. It doesn’t matter. It’s done. I’m free and they’re both dead. It’s your last chance, Malfoy. Honour your blood and join me”.

Draco’s answer was a Stunning Spell right to the chest.

Barty blocked it with a laugh. “You’ve chosen, then”.

Harry stepped to Draco’s side. Together, they alternated between attacking and protecting themselves. Barty was strong. He was able to keep up with them. His curses were darker, more harmful than anything Harry or Draco could imagine. Even worse, he cast half of them without a word. They didn’t know what they were facing. They were forced to evade or block everything. If one spell touched them, they would go down.

Luckily, they had practised a lot together. They knew each other’s rhythm, their tricks, the spells they were good at and those they needed help with. They duelled together as a team, as a pair that was almost one.

Soon, it was clear the first one to make a mistake would fall. Barty couldn’t kill both of them, but they couldn’t capture him.

It took a stupid spell to break their concentration. Barty conjured a snake. It wasn’t even a real one. It was an illusion, a big and realistic one, but the blurry edges of its tail were clear signs of its magic nature. Draco had never seen it before, thus, his mind remained clear and focused. Harry had seen it before, in the graveyard, circling him while he was in pain and facing his worst enemy. He jerked away and changed his aim to attack it. Draco had to cover up for him to face their foe alone. In the two seconds it took for Harry to recover, Barty tried a killing curse, but he failed. He used the distraction to scurry away.

“We have to catch him!” Harry ran after him.

Like the idiot he was, Draco followed. 

“We have to call the teachers!”

“There’s no time”.

Harry refused to say anything else and sprinted after the man.

“Help!” Draco yelled. It was useless. There was nobody else outside the castle. The grounds were empty except for the three of them.

Barty Jr. bolted in direction to the main gates. He tripped a couple of times. Horrified, Draco realized he was transforming back to his real form. Moody’s wooden leg fell, so did his magical eye. Barty Jr. fell, rolled, and stood up. He didn’t let his transformation stop him. His goal was set.

If he crossed the wards, he would be able to apparate. Nobody would ever catch him.

Draco sent full-body binds, stunners, even tripping jinxes. He transfigured parts of the grounds, made rocks bigger, made a couple of bushes attack him. Everything failed. Bartemius Crouch blocked everything, sent everything away without slowing down. He fired back curses, probably a couple of unforgivables, but Draco and Harry were ready to avoid them.

Despite his efforts, Harry was falling behind. He threw curses and jinxes, but his aim was wrong and he was getting slower the more they ran. His injuries and exhaustion were catching up to him.

Draco alone couldn’t defeat the man. He managed to catch him with a couple of vines that grew from the ground to trap him. Barty tripped, but he slashed through the vines and got on his feet before Draco’s next spell hit him.

“Every spell you try is another nail to your coffin,” he laughed evilly. “Even better. The Dark Lord will finally see your parents for the disloyal cowards they are. Keep trying. I’ll enjoy it when he finally kills them”.

Desperately, Draco tried to reach Crouch with more curses. Nothing stopped him. The main gates were visible and getting closer. 

A couple of figures stood there. They were far enough Draco couldn’t distinguish if they were students or teachers.

“Help!” Draco yelled to the top of his lungs. “He’s a Death Eater! Stop him!”

The two figures turned around and froze. Too late, Draco realized there was no way they were adults.

They were students. Two young girls that stood frozen between a deranged man and the main gates.

“Move!” Barty yelled, raising his wand. “Move or I’ll kill you!”

Draco could see the girls now. Their faces were blurry, but by the robes and the hair he recognized one of them. Astoria Greengrass. Daphne’s little sister, who was wearing one of Draco’s badges and expensive robes was shivering, completely lost. She looked so fragile. The other one was a second-year Hufflepuff he didn’t know. She made a quick movement, probably to take out her wand.

“Av-”

“NO!”

Without thinking, Draco fired a shield.

“Kedavra!”

The Protego was faster, but barely so. Harry had shot one too, but it was behind Draco’s. Green and red light raced to the girls.

Draco’s shield didn’t form fast enough. Both he and the girls realized it at once.

Astoria was still frozen. It was the hufflepuff girl who pushed her aside.

The green light hit her.

She fell with her eyes still open.

Draco knew it was different from the spell that hit Ron. This one was final.

Behind him, Harry screamed. He sent every curse he knew, but Barty blocked it. At least the attack kept him busy enough to not attack Astoria. Draco reached her and yanked her behind him. 

With a sneer, Barty yelled “Crucio!”

Draco’s shield broke.

He wasn’t used to pain. He had always been protected and healed quickly whenever he got hurt in his childish adventures. Even when he grew up and he got hurt in Hogwarts, it had never been too bad. A hurt head, a stunner, a couple of binding jinxes, easily-fixed bones.

Draco was not prepared for the Cruciatus curse.

It was painful. Pure, unfiltered pain, in every part of his body at the same time. He screamed, twitched, and lost control of everything. If his mouth were to obey him, he would’ve begged, he would’ve said anything to make it stop.

Then, it stopped.

Draco gasped and opened his eyes. He couldn’t see anything besides dark robes. Harry was in front of him, covering him and yelling with so much anger Draco felt his own throat hurt.

“Come back here coward! Come back! I’ll make you pay! I swear you’ll pay! Crucio!”

Harry’s spell flew past the open gates and got lost in the distance.

Barty Crouch Jr. had escaped.