Rivals Not Enemies (Drarry Slowburn)

BEFORE THE STORM

Tuesday classes persisted as usual until Harry met Draco outside of the potions classroom. He didn't have the cauldron with him‭, ‬surprisingly‭, ‬but that wasn't the first detail about him Harry registered‭. ‬

Draco was wearing formal clothing‭, ‬but it was to a lesser degree of perfection‭. ‬His undershirt wasn't tucked in as it normally was‭, ‬and the slightly wrinkled edges made it seem as if Draco tried to tuck in his shirt but frustratedly gave up after he couldn‭'‬t get it right‭. ‬He might have even tried to smooth out the wrinkles with an ironing charm‭, ‬but he failed at that too‭. ‬Streaks of mauve circled his half-opened eyes‭.‬

"You look awful," Harry said flatly.

Draco already appeared irritable, but this comment seemed to push him over the edge, "At least I don't look like I just rolled out of bed."

Harry was used to Draco taking cheap shots at his attire, and he didn't take it personally anymore. Instead, he retorted, "You don't look like you've been to bed at all, actually."

Draco narrowed his darkened eyes, unwilling to explain himself under interrogation, "It's none of your business."

Harry rolled his eyes and entered into the eerie emptiness of the potions classroom. He looked around in search of Professor Slughorn, but the professor wasn't sitting at his desk or rummaging through his stores like usual. Draco and Harry were the only ones there.

"Slughorn said that we could present this evening," Draco explained tiredly, "since 10 am was too soon to organize a meeting time."

Harry mischievously nodded, grinning, "All I'm hearing is that we have two hours to kill before lunch."

They pointed vehemently at one another before guessing what the other was thinking.

They chimed in unison, "Chamber!"

Before Harry could turn to leave, Draco weakly gestured to a section of the classroom shrouded in darkness, "Why walk?"

As Harry's eyes adjusted to the lack of light, a cobblestone alcove with an overhead mantle came into focus. It stood within the shadow cast by a large potions cabinet—a Floo fireplace.

Draco jostled a ceramic dish filled with gray powder towards Harry, "After you."

Of course, it wasn't surprising that there was a link to the Floo network in Slughorn's classroom. Before 1827, Hogwarts students were free to use whatever method of transportation they liked to get to their classes. Some Apparated, some used brooms, and others used Floo travel. It only made sense for Hogwarts to still have Floo fireplaces everywhere, even if no one used them.

"We could get in serious trouble. . ." Harry hesitated, not wanting to land himself in detention again, "What if they find out?"

Draco narrowed his eyes as if this question were a personal attack‭, "‬I wouldn't have suggested it if that were in the realm of possibility‭. ‬Unlike you‭, ‬I‭ ‬never‭ ‬intend on getting caught when doing things I'm not supposed to‭."‬

"Neither do I!" Harry argued.

Draco raised a blond brow incredulously, "And yet. . ."

Harry angrily grabbed a fistful of Floo powder, determined to escape Draco's criticism. Turning slowly into the fireplace, he was mindful not to drop any Floo powder, lest he choke on the thick ash clouds it created in the air. Harry threw down his handful and chanted, "Chamber of Secrets study."

In a burst of green fire‭, ‬he vanished from the classroom and entered the study of Salazar Slytherin‭. ‬Draco reappeared‭, ‬not far behind him‭. ‬Laying his tired eyes on the comfortable couch cushions‭, ‬he heaved‭, "‬Thank‭ ‬Merlin‭!" ‬and slumped into the chaise lounge‭.