inflicted [h.p]

04

"You're late." Malfoy growled as Harry approached his corner of the library. It was the same corner Harry had sat in yesterday, the one with the least onlookers. The blonde wizard didn't so much as spare him a glance as he continued his writing.

"Don't recall you giving me a specific time Malfoy." Harry scoffed and sat down opposite, tossing his bag onto a pile of parchment, earning another annoyed growl from his former enemy.

"I said lunch." Malfoy dropped his quill and shoved Harry's bag off the table onto the floor by his feet. "Not five after, not five before, lunch Potter."

As Malfoy looked up, Harry noticed that he looked different. His usually sharp features had softened, lost in the hollowness of his cheeks. Like Harry, he looked ill. His pale lips were chapped, scabbing over in certain places and his grey eyes were encircled by purplish bags. Like Harry, he hadn't been sleeping well. Although he still carried a sense of arrogance in his posture and formalities, he no longer looked so prim and proper. His ice hair had outgrown. His usual gelled back style was gone, instead it curled in a similar way to Harry's own. Malfoy had also traded in his pompous black suits for the regular Hogwarts uniform, his tie lay loose around his neck and his shirt sleeves were rolled up in a similar fashion to most boys around the school. But Draco Malfoy was not most boys. Evident by the dark mark that peaked under his cuffed sleeves. And Harry noticed faint red markings surrounding the part of the mark that was visible, as if the blonde had tried to scratch it out. Like Harry, the boy had marks to hide.

"So bloody pedantic." Harry said under his breath as he drew out his parchment and a quill to join Draco in their revision, ignoring what he had noticed on Malfoy's arm. Though he no longer considered the blonde git the enemy, he still didn't care to know about Draco's problems, nor did he really care about Draco.

Harry had managed to avoid people for the most part that day. Haven being woken up by his nightmares. It was different this time, being graced by an impudent witch whom he was growing all too acquainted with; now both consciously and subconsciously. So with the unwelcome witch present in his thoughts, he left before Ron could begin to stir, then walked the silent hallways of Hogwarts until it was time for first period.

It was because of Harry's lack of interaction (besides the necessary class discussion) that the boy's mood was light. Though Harry's light mood might've been considered most people's foulest one. Nevertheless his temperament was an improvement from most days, perhaps that was why he was finding Malfoy's retorts tolerable, amusing even. But then again, perhaps that wasn't the reason.

"It's not pedantic Potter, it's common bloody sense. Of which you have none."

"You're losing your touch Malfoy." Harry actually teased, smirking slightly. But before the conversation could turn too awkwardly friendly, he continued. "So what potion do you want to make?"

Draco was quick to be rid of the look of surprise at Harry's smile. In the seven years the boys had known each-other and fought, Harry had never once smirked at anything coming out of Malfoy's mouth.

"I was thinking we'd play it safe to be honest. Don't think either of us really give a fuck about outdoing ourselves yeah?" Harry nodded slightly, watching the blonde talk. "So draught of peace. It's one we did with Snape in fifth year. You know the one where he poured your cauldron out in front of everyone because you forgot the hellebore? Yeah well it's actually seventh year level potion. 'N no one did it right anyway so yeah, i thought we'd do that one."

Harry stared at the boy, noticing how Malfoy had remembered something so trivial as him forgetting an ingredient. Harry thought that Malfoy had probably taken note of it to use in a future spat, and successfully so.