Chapter Text
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Two days had passed since the big headlines: Harry Potter – the 4th Triwizard Champion. Draco had read the article in the Daily Prophet, but even without that, it would’ve been hard to miss.
They had called him out in the Great Hall and Draco had to watch while Potter had made his way to Dumbledore, who had read the famous name out loud for everyone to hear it.
Everyone had been looking at Potter – of course. Draco also couldn't take his eyes off him.
He never could.
Of course.
Potter, however, hadn’t exactly looked proud or delighted, like Draco had expected him to. Rather than that, he had looked scared and unsettled, as if he had wanted the ground beneath him to swallow him.
Draco could recognize that expression on anyone – he felt it often enough when he had to attend one of those endless, tedious dinners with high society people, where his father carefully sought inspiration for marrying his son to one of their daughters.
Anyway – Draco could only shake his head about Potter’s weird behaviour as his name had been called. If hewould’ve been the one – the one who were walking down the hall with all eyes on him – he would’ve taken the space, he was given. Draco would’ve enjoyed walking down slowly, while knowing that every single person in the room envied him.
Although, this wouldn’t be all different from usual.
They probably all adored him already.
They had to.
But now, Draco Malfoy was sitting in the Slytherin common room, on a black armchair that was so big, his slim body practically drowned in it. The chair was faced to the round window from where one could see the dark waters of the lake that surrounded the Slytherin dungeons, allowing Draco to trace little fish with his eyes as he thought about – well – Potter. It was something he found himself doing quite a lot. Not staring at fish but thinking about his arch nemesis.
Why was it always Potter?
“What ’cha up to, Draco?” he heard a familiar dump voice next to him, and a moment later, Goyle let himself fall into the chair facing Draco’s. Draco grunted annoyed and glanced shortly in his direction, before continuing to watch the colourful fishes, that were currently fighting over something that looked like a rat’s tail.
“Wanna play some chess?” Goyle asked innocently.
Draco just flipped him off.
He knew Goyle probably wanted to have a reason to not give attention to his studies, and normally he would have just rolled his eyes and given in.
But Draco had been in a bad mood for days now – precisely since Potter had been elected a Triwizard Champion – and he thought he might actually die if he couldn’t rant about what bothered him right now.
So, he was pleased when Goyle finally asked him what the matter was (after Draco had dramatically sighed a few times very loudly, just to make clear how badly he was suffering).
“Nothing at all,” Draco said for dramatic effect. “Everything is perfectly fine.”
When Goyle didn’t take the hint, Draco finally had enough and snorted. “It’s just – bloody Potter. He’s so incredibly pathetic!”
Goyle just grunted as he picked his fingernails into the old leather. “What did he do this time?”
“What do you mean – what did he do?” Draco cried. “He bloody became a Triwizard Champion just to draw attention to himself once again! As if the people weren’t kissing the ground he walked on before that. What is it that makes him think he’s so special?”
Goyle pushed his lower lip forward.
“I mean – he is like the only person ever that survived the deathly curse and defeated the Dark Lord.”
Draco only huffed scornful.
“I wonder how he did it. I mean, get his name in there.”
“He cheated, Goyle, that’s how he did it. You can only put your name in there if you’re a legal adult, but as we all know, Potter has never made a fuss about caring about the rules.”
“Oh, don’t act like that now, Draco,” Goyle said to his horror. “You know damn well you would’ve done the same thing if you’d figured out how to beat it. We literally talked about it.”
Draco made an outrageous noise, much like a snort. He wanted to kick Goyle out of his armchair because how dare he made Draco’s complains seem overdone – and worst of all – compare him to Potter.
If Draco had been a bit dramatic about his feelings before, he now definitely was cross.
“You know what, Goyle,” he said loudly. “I don’t care what you think or what I might have said. The point is that I, unlike that ugly orphan, do not require a special treatment to feel confident in my own skin. You might have joined the Harry Potter Fanclub along with all four houses, but I will not get on that level. Never!”
Draco only realised he had been shouting when a few older students started shushing him across the common room. He shot them a withering glance and let himself fall into the armchair that he had, without realising, risen from, while he had come down on his mate like a ton of bricks.
Said boy only stared at him a pensive expression on his round face, with almost threw Draco off again.
Thankfully, in that moment, a girl with smooth dark hair and striking earrings joined them and patted Draco’s shoulder supportively.
“Draco, calm the hell down,” Pansy Parkinson said, as a dark-skinned boy appeared behind her with a curious smirk. Pansy had gotten closer to Blaise Zabini in the past weeks. He didn’t mind. Blaise seemed like a decent Bloke and Draco really appreciated his calm personality and decent sense of fashion.
But now, his and Pansy’s company only annoyed him further.
“What did you two argue about?” Pansy wanted to know and sat down on the armrest of Draco’s armchair, offering Blaise the empty seat next to Goyle.
“Draco is talking about Harry Potter again,” his so-called friend said.
Draco glared at him angrily. Fucking traitor. Now Pansy would make fun of him again, like she always did when he talked about Potter, just because she didn’t understand how serious this rivalry was to Draco.
As expected, Pansy sighed dramatically.
“Of course he is. What is it this time? His wild green eyes or the dimples on his cheeks when he laughs?”
She grinned at Blaise, who only raised his eyebrows.
“His words, not mine.”
She placed her long, slim fingers on Draco’s head and began stroking his hair. She knew he loved when she did that, and even the small gesture calmed him down a bit.
“Shut your mouth, Pans, if you don’t have anything helpful to say,” he grumbled half-hearted while relaxing under his touch.
“God, Pansy,” Goyle laughed. “You make it sound like Draco has a crush on Potter.”
For some reason, Draco’s heart rate sped up in stress at Goyle’s comment, but he quickly got himself back together again and snorted in horror.
“ME? A crush? On Potter? This is pathetic, Goyle, and you know it.”
Goyle only shrugged, which made Draco’s subsided anger come back in waves.
Draco took a deep breath as he tried not to scream like a little kid. “As if Potter could ever have a chance with me. I mean – look at him! And look at me.”
Ge gestured down at himself while Pansy took her hand back to herself.
“This guy can’t even walk down a corridor without tripping over his own feet, and he looks and smells like he doesn’t take proper care of himself. Probably showers once a week. Just for you to say this, Goyle, is an actual humiliation, because as if I would ever - “
“Salazar, Draco,” Goyle interrupted him angrily as he held up his hands in defeat. “It was just a joke. I’m sorry.”
Draco closed his mouth, glared at him once again before letting his back rest against the cold leather.
They all went quiet for a while, staring at the couch table, until Blaise slowly said: “Why do you smell Potter?”
Startled, Draco looked at him. He might take everything he thought about Blaise Zabini back, because how dare him making these comments, where he was barely part of the conversation.
After a few seconds of silence, Pansy and Goyle broke out in heavy laughter, Blaise joining them.
Against his will, Draco felt his mouth twitch, but he just rolled his eyes and relaxed in his seat.
“You guys are not helpful,” he said grumpily.
Pansy grinned. “Why, what do you need help for?”
“My plan.”
“Your plan?”
“For Potter, obviously,” he said impatiently. “I need something to humiliate him with. Something big. Something to make the whole school turn away from him.”
“Aha,” Pansy said unimpressed and exchanged a glance with Blaise.
“I know!” Draco said exited and slapped his hand on the unoccupied armrest.
“We can promote Cedric Diggory as the real champion, while putting Potter down.”
“We?” Goyle asked sceptical.
“What are you planning Draco?” Pansy asked. “I know that face.”
Draco shook his head and rose from his armchair, so the others looked up at him with their doubtful faces.
“You are apparently no use at all. I need to think this through now to set the plan in action as soon as possible! I’m skipping dinner and don’t anyone dare to try and talk to me until tomorrow morning!”
With that, he turned on his heels and hurried up to his dorm, where he shut his bed curtains to peacefully brainstorm how to ruin Potter’s life.
However, he wasn’t as successful as he had hoped, because after midnight, he was still tossing and turning in his bed while thinking about Potter.
Well, not about Potter himself, of course.
That would be weird.
It was still dark when the idea finally stuck and he wasted no time dressing and storming through the dark stone corridors to the library. Sneaking in was surprisingly easy and after he had picked out a few charms books, he was ready to start working.
When he was done, the sun had risen and the first footsteps from hungry students on their way to the Great Hall echoed from the walls. Draco took a step back to look at his work.
It was an understatement to say he was proud. This was a masterpiece.
Potter would absolutely hate it. A grin took over Draco’s face, and he even forgot about his exhaustion from staying awake the whole night, as he imagined Potter’s dumb expression when he would see what Draco had created for him.
Cheerfully whistling, he packed his bag and made his way out of the library, entering the hallway that was flooded with golden sunlight.
This was going to be his day.
🍎
“Draco Malfoy is staring at you”
Harry lifted his head and let his gaze travel to the Slytherin table, where he immediately spotted the white-blonde boy Neville was referring to.
Malfoy was indeed staring at him, probably waiting for Harry to notice him. When their eyes met, he started smirking that all-too familiar smirk. Harry half expected him to throw an insult at his head over the hall, but he only wiggled his eyebrows, which made Harry’s stomach drop uncomfortably.
Malfoy was probably up to something. Although he normally would try to get to the bottom of the matter, but Harry was too exhausted at the moment to deal with bloody Malfoy. It was hard enough to get through the day when your best friend acts as if you don’t exist and half the school apparently hates you. At least that’s what he assumes when he hears their muffled whispers and hateful glares when walking past them.
Harry realised he had let his gaze rest on Malfoy, who now had started to pull faces at him. He hastily turned back to his porridge, but the food tasted bitter in his throat and his stomach felt like bursting, even though he had only had a few spoons full.
He stared at his orange juice to avoid looking at the left end of the table, where he knew Ron was sitting with Seamus and Dean, probably having the best time while ignoring Harry.
He was relieved when Neville engaged him in a conversation about a girl from Beauxbatons that he had talked to the other day. If Harry had been asked later what her name was, he wouldn’t even be able to answer, because his mind was still far away.
The morning dragged on and Harry’s mood only sank further, especially when Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillian along with the other Hufflepuffs refused to acknowledge him in their shared lessons.
And of course, today had to Monday, where they had double potions with the Slytherins. When Harry shambled down the dungeon’s corridors with a concerned Hermione who tried her best to cheer him up, he was down in the dumps.
They arrived a couple minutes early along with Ron and Seamus, so they now had to stand in a very uncomfortable silence, only broken through the occasional laughter of the passing younger students.
He was almost relieved when Draco Malfoy along with his Slytherin troop appeared around the corner. This feeling didn’t last long though, because as soon as Malfoy spotted Harry, a grin spread on his face and he started shouting.
“Oi, Scarface!”
As they moved closer, Harry noticed the neon green badges they were all wearing.
Malfoy seemed to notice his gaze because he took the last few steps and was now standing directly in front of Harry, lifting his chest to give him proper view of the badge on his Slytherin uniform.
Harry had to blink a few times, because Malfoy had only left a few inches between them.
“See this?”, Malfoy grinned.
Harry saw.
There, on the Badge, in clear dark letters it said:
SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY – THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION
“And look what it can do!”, Malfoy continued and his voice almost sounded proud, like those of a little boy who was showing off his Christmas presents.
Harry’s eyes traced Malfoy’s slim finger as he lightly tapped the enchanted badge to reveal a second statement:
POTTER STINKS
Harry felt fury rise in his chest and could barely hear Hermione saying “Harry, just ignore him. He’s not worth it!” while she grabbed his arm.
But Harry shook her off to keep staring intensely at Malfoy, who grinned at him victorious.
“Potti, take a cue from these ones,” Draco called with sparkling eyes, pointing at a few tiny first graders who just passed them, all of them wearing one of those damn badges as well. “They seem to appreciate my work!”
Harry only stared at him. He knew that if he wouldn’t back off now, he was most likely going to lose his temper soon. It had never been easy for him to control himself when it came to Malfoy. He wanted to scream at him, to punch him hard, to wipe that smug expression off his stupid pointy face.
Although his pulse was beating hard in his head, Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. He knew it would be no use attacking Malfoy, whether with fists or magic, because Snape could show up at any moment and catch him. But mostly Harry didn’t want to give Draco the satisfaction of his actions affecting Harry. Hermione was right, he shouldn’t react at all. But he had to do something, or the git would continue to make his life a living hell.
He had to change tactics, that was all.
To do something that would throw Malfoy off completely and make him forget everything he had planned to humiliate Harry.
What if…
“Speechless?” sneered Malfoy, when Harry still hadn’t said anything, still staring at the green badge.
He could feel Malfoy’s eyes and his warm breath on his face.
“No,” Harry said slowly. “No…”
He lifted his gaze and braced himself for what he was about to say.
“Do you have a crush on me?”
For a moment, Harry felt like being in a simulation, because he simply couldn’t believe the words had come from his lips. He kept eye contact with Malfoy, whose face was even paler than usual. He also noticed the fine dark circles under his eyes. Had Malfoy had a bad night?
Harry kept his eyes on Malfoy, as his face finally stirred in a horrified expression, his eyes going wide.
He took a step back. This certainly wasn’t what Malfoy had expected, he thought in satisfaction.
“I – what?” were the only words that came over Malfoys lips.
“You heard me,” Harry said with increased confidence. He couldn’t stop here. He had to finish this game.
“You know, I was thinking,” Harry continued, his mind racing. What the fuck was he going to say? Then, it hit him. “It’s just, the way you’re acting is bloody weird, you know that?”
Malfoy still looked at him frozen, and Harry took the opportunity to walk around him, so Malfoy had to turn his head around. He continued speaking, louder this time.
“When we met, you wanted to be my friend so badly and when I refused, you started this rivalry. From then on, you kept trying to get my attention, even though I certainly wasn’t trying to be close to you. Remember when you forced your father to get you into the Quidditch team just so you could play against me?”
Because Malfoy still wasn’t interrupting him, Harry continued, while his mind feverishly searched for evidence that he could use against Malfoy.
“In our third year, you crafted a whole Dementor costume just to throw me off at the Quidditch game. Not to mention you calling me nicknames all the time or trying to get my attention while we’re playing against each other. And now making these badges, with my name on it…”
Harry shrugged deliberately casual. “I don’t know, doesn’t really seem like typical things to do to your enemy. If you really hate me, Draco, why don’t you just avoid me?”
Harry let his words linger in the hot air between them, as he tried not to shake from the rush of adrenaline. His own heavy breathing was the only thing he could still hear, as if the whole would around them had fallen quiet.
He caught Malfoy’s mouth twitching, but no words came from his mouth. It was the first time that Harry had called him by his first name directly, and although he had only said it to throw him off, it still felt strangely intimate.
Harry’s whole body felt like it was electrified and Malfoy still didn’t say anything, only stared at him with this weird expression as if he was caught extremely off guard. His eyes were locked onto Harry’s and for the first time he noticed sprinkles of light blue in a sea of grey. The blond lashes were trembling, and a drop of sweat ran over his right temple. Harry wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to –
He was brutally jolted out of his trance, when there was a low clearing of someone’s throat.
They both spun around and were facing Snape in his usual dark robes, looking as disgruntled as usual.
“Mr Potter,” he said slowly as he raised an eyebrow. “Were you trying to hex Mr Malfoy?”
“What? No!” Harry immediately replied. Although Draco certainly looked like he had been hit with a stupefy.
“You,” said Snape harshly and it took Harry a moment to realise who he was addressing. When he looked around, he realised they were surrounded by at least two dozen of young students, that had, without them noticing, crowded around them.
“You, go to your classrooms. Now.”
Snape shot them a last intimidating glare, as they started scuttering in a hurry. Harry spotted a few of the green badges on their robes.
The badges. Harry had completely forgotten about them. Snape also regarded Malfoy’s with a frown, before he proceeded to take off points from Gryffindor for Harry’s oh so servile actions. But Harry didn’t care. Not only had Malfoy’s puzzled reaction been worth it all, but he finally felt a sense of satisfaction and joy, which was something else than the sorrow of the last few days.
He met Hermione’s eye over the students’ heads and grinned at her worried expression.
Snape finally unlocked the classroom and Harry watched as Malfoy stormed in and settled at the desk closest to the front. He convinced Hermione to sit with him at the desk behind him.
“Did you see that?” Harry whispered, as soon as they took their seats. “Did you see how he reacted? He was completely clueless. If I had known that this is what it took to shut him up, I’d done it years ago!”
Hermione only looked at him with a doubtful expression.
“What?”
“I don’t know, Harry… I just have got a bad feeling about this.”
“What do you mean?”
She only shrugged helplessly and turned away hastily when Snape knocked his wand against the blackboard angrily to draw their attention.
Harry frowned and let his gaze rest on the blond hair in front of him. Although his strategy to confuse Malfoy might not seem understandable for Hermione, he had done the right thing.
This could hardly cause any harm.
If only he knew.