Ride or Die

The Devil That You Know

Chapter 16: The Devil That You Know

It took everything Harry possessed not to punch Malfoy directly in the mouth. The other man's eyes were guiltily downcast as they stepped into the hall, his shoulders appropriately tense; if Harry hadn't been in uniform, he might have just done it, considering he was finding himself too jittery to formulate any appropriately cutting words to express his displeasure.

To express the betrayal of it, somehow, though he wasn't sure quite how to explain the compulsion.

"How long," Harry began, letting the first - and also perhaps the least satisfying - question that came to mind exit his lips in a furtive growl. "How long has this been going on?"

For a moment, Malfoy said nothing, setting his jaw.

"A while," he confessed eventually, not meeting Harry's eye. "But it's over now."

"It didn't fucking look over," Harry hissed, jabbing a finger in the direction of Hermione's room. "Malfoy, anyone could have seen that," he added furiously. "Have you managed to fucking forget what happened to Astoria?"

"I know," Malfoy said dully, blinking once. "I wasn't thinking."

"No, you fucking weren't," Harry agreed, aware that he was losing his temper but giving in to an irrepressible need to rant regardless, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "You know better than anyone just how dangerous you are, Malfoy!"

"I know," Malfoy said again, and it somehow made Harry even angrier to hear it twice. "I already told you, it's over - "

"How fucking stupid do you think I am?" Harry demanded nonsensically, throwing his hands in the air and gesturing again behind him. "You're going to tell me that that," he snapped, flailing in indeterminable frustration, "the two of you making out in her hospital bed - that was supposed to be evidence of things being over?"

"What do you want me to tell you, Potter?" Malfoy countered, looking so resignedly miserable that Harry nearly took a step back, momentarily winded. He'd expected a fight, he realized, and half wished he had gotten one instead. "I know exactly how dangerous I am," Malfoy continued, wincing, "I know that - and I know I put her in danger just by being here - I know I fucked up - "

"I just - " Harry paused to accommodate a grimace, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't understand how much she means to me," he admitted, letting his voice drop. "She's my best friend," he muttered, "and I will fucking rip you to shreds if anything happens to her, ever - "

"I won't let that happen," Malfoy growled in return, his expression tensing as he glanced up to meet Harry's eye. "Believe me, I want her safe as much as you do." His mouth twitched once, his grey eyes blazed, and then he grimaced. "More, probably," he added under his breath, flashing Harry a stubborn look of certainty.

Harry sighed, leaning back against the door. "I believe you," he said wearily, pausing to glare at the other man, "and it's fucking pissing me off, because I want to kill you." He glanced through the window at Hermione, who had drifted peacefully to sleep in their absence. "She's too fucking good for you."

"Again, Potter, you insist on telling me things I already know," Malfoy said gruffly. "Look, I promise to keep my distance, okay?" he said, raising his hands in the air; an unequivocal surrender. "I'll stay away, I swear. Just - keep an eye on her," he sighed, and Harry, who still felt he could find motivation to punch him, managed to nod stiffly in return. "If you let anything happen to her," Malfoy warned fiercely, "I'll fucking eviscerate you, Potter."