02
Harry sat down at his regular spot at the Professors' table for the beginning of term feast. On his left was an empty seat, and to his right sat Hermione.
"Did you see what Malfoy decided to wear? Very unprofessional, he's hardly wearing proper wizarding robes," Hermione whispered.
"No, I haven't seen him since this morning. What is it?"
"Take a look for yourself, he's coming this way," Hermione pointed behind him.
"Harry turned around as Malfoy sat down in the chair next to him. His robes were an emerald green, with a line of crystals going along each seam. The hem was down to the floor, and gave him a floating effect. Harry loved those robes, as he had told Draco several times in the past. Which meant that he had most likely worn them for the sole purpose of messing with Harry's head. Underneath, you could see that he was wearing a black turtleneck with a silver chain around his neck.
Harry's breath hitched. He looked at Malfoy, who had turned to face him. "We need to talk," he whispered, barely audible.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine. Meet me in my office later," he replied, matching Malfoy's volume.
The sorting ceremony was very eventful, and the meal was exceptional, as always. Not to mention that Malfoy kept purposefully bumping knees with Harry. Hardy found his heart pounding by the end of the meal.
Hogwarts had received several new students this year, more than Harry had ever seen. He wondered how he would adjust his classroom for the difference of students. He would definitely need more desks.
The Sorting Hat's new song was very catchy, and Harry found the tune stuck in his head after the ceremony was over. Alone in his office, Harry sat on the loveseat, drinking tea and humming to himself, when he heard a quiet knock on the door. Forgetting about their arrangement earlier, Harry was shocked to see Malfoy on the other side. "Come on in," he said shakily, summoning another tea cup from the pantry.
"D'you still like Earl Grey? Or did you want Orange Pekoe?" Harry asked, holding up either option.
"Earl Grey is fine, thanks," Malfoy said, standing just inside the doorframe.
"Well come on in, make yourself comfortable. I reckon this conversation might take a while," Harry said.
Malfoy sighed and sat down stiffly on one end of the beaten up love-seat. "I can't believe you kept this," he said, running his hand across the worn down surface of the cushion.
"Why wouldn't I? It's a perfectly good couch," Harry replied as he handed Malfoy his cup and sat down next to him.
"It's got holes in it! If I wanted feathers stuck to me, I would pluck an owl."
"Well if you don't like it, you can go sit in my desk chair."
"That blasted thing? It looks like it's going to fall apart the second I sit down."
"Would you stop criticizing every thing I own? You're the one who wanted to talk, so talk."
"Fine," Malfoy said, before pausing. Five seconds. Ten seconds. "I don't know what you want me to say," he admitted.
"Why don't you start by telling me why you left? I was obviously not flirting with Ginny, since she had already come out as lesbian at that point. So why did you go?"
"Why do you think?" Malfoy asked.
"I don't know! I know that I didn't do anything wrong."
"Why are you so sure that you're innocent? Maybe I left because I thought you didn't love me!"
"What do you mean 'you thought I didn't love you?' You were my whole world! I basically devoted myself to you!"
"Well it hardly felt like it! You didn't tell anyone that we were together! I had told Pansy, Greg, Blaise, I even told my mother about us!"
"Well sorry I couldn't tell my mother, considering she's dead!"
"Oh, playing the orphan card, how clever! Did you ever consider that the people I love have died too?
"Oh, please, that's hardly the same!"
"Why? Because they were Death Eaters? Because they were 'bad?'"
"No, because they hardly showed any devotion or love towards you! You act like they were saints when they dedicated their life to hunting and killing anyone who wasn't 'pure!'"
"Is that what you think of them? Is that what you think of me? I'm evil? I'm a prejudiced pure-blood who dedicates myself to torturing innocent people? In case you didn't know, people change, Potter. Just like how I am good, they were good at some point of their lives, too. Not all of them wanted that life!" Draco stood up, slamming his cup down on the coffee table.
"Draco, wait! I'm sorry, you're right. It was unfair to assume that everyone you care about was evil. I know that you're not--"
"Save it, Potter." Draco marched out of his office and slammed the door so hard that it knocked his cup off the table, spilling tea all over the carpet.
"Shit!" Harry shouted. "For fuck's sake, Malfoy!" Harry stood up and rushed out the door, chasing after Draco. He had just seen him turn around the corner when he reached the hallway. He ran down the corridor, calling out Malfoy's name. When he caught up to the other man, he placed a hand on his shoulder, but Malfoy shrugged it away, wiping away tears that were forming in his eyes.
"Shove it, Potter," he mumbled, turning his head away from Harry's.
"Draco, please. I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to assume anything about your loved ones when I didn't know them." Harry stopped walking, but Draco kept moving down the hallway. "I'm sorry for making you feel like I didn't love you," He called out. Draco hesitated, but kept moving.
Harry huffed before continuing to call after Draco. "Because I did-- I do-- love you, I mean."
Draco came to a full stop. The room got colder as, with a blank face, Draco turned to face Harry, his eyes red and rimmed with tears, and said: "Do me a favour and leave me alone."
"Oh." Harry took a shaky breath. "Uh-- yeah, sure, Professor Malfoy. I guess I'll do that."
Draco turned back around and marched off, leaving Harry deserted in the corridor.
Two days had passed since Harry's last interaction with Draco. He had spent his time wallowing around in his quarters whenever he wasn't in his classroom. His usual work-hard, play-hard attitude had disappeared, and he was miserable while teaching. He had skipped his second meal that day when Hermione barged into his room with a bottle of firewhiskey.
"Listen, Harry, I know that you're all upset because Draco is a professor here, but you're going to have to toughen up and stop sulking around about it. He's here to stay, so get over yourself, and start acting like a real teacher again," she said, putting the bottle of firewhiskey down on his coffee table. "So here are your options: You either drink this entire bottle of firewhiskey with me and get plastered, or you can tell me what the hell is wrong with you sober and I'll drink the entire bottle by myself."
Harry held out his hand, reaching for the firewhiskey. "Fine," he said.
Hermione grabbed the bottle and held it just out of his reach. "Do you promise you'll start acting normal again? No more Malfoy drama?"
"Yes, mum, I promise."
Hermione grinned and shoved Harry's shoulder. "Good. But don't call me 'mum' ever again."
"Deal," Harry said as Hermione handed over the bottle. He unscrewed the cap and took a long swig, downing a quarter of the bottle. When the rim left his lips, he started coughing.
Hermione slapped on his back as he choked, relieving him from his fit. He gasped for air, "Thanks," he wheezed.
Hermione sighed. "No problem," She said, taking the bottle from him and taking a few light sips. "I don't know how I'll be able to stay away from Pansy for so long," she admitted, handing the bottle back to Harry.
"Oh. I didn't know you were actually serious --that's besides the point-- Hermione, we're professors. We're allowed to leave whenever we want... except during our work hours, of course. You could easily leave for a weekend to see Pansy."
"But what if there's an emergency--"
"Hermione-- there are tons of other professors here. If something happens, we'll be able to handle it."
"I suppose, but what if something happens to someone in my house? How am I supposed to live knowing that I wasn't there for a student if they get hurt or sick or--"
"Hermione-- between Poppy and Minerva, the students are in good hands."
"I suppose you're right."
"Well, there's a first time for everything."
Hermione laughed. "Thank you, Harry. I know whatever you're going through must be difficult-- I haven't you so disassociated since, well, since after the war-- so you can talk to me. Only if you want."
"Thanks, Hermione." Harry contemplated telling Hermione about everything but shook away the thought almost immediately. Nobody would understand his grief, not even Hermione.
Harry kneeled behind his desk in his classroom, shuffling through books, looking for a source for the next day's lesson on Hinkypunks, when he heard the floor creak. "Just a minute, Hermione, I've just got to find my book on dark wetland creatures."
"Oh, sorry to bother you, Harry," said the voice of Neville from the other side of his desk as Harry placed another book onto the large pile that had accumulated on his desk.
Harry straightened and looked up at Neville. "Hi, Nev! I didn't know you don't have classes on Thursday afternoons! What's up?"
"Well, some friends are meeting Theo and I at the Three Broomsticks for supper tonight-- a sort of celebration-- you see, he's been accepted into the Healer's program at St. Mungo's."
Harry grinned. "That's great! I'd love to come," He said. "What time?"
"Seven. And wear something nice."
"Alright, will do. I'll be there."
"Great, Harry. Thank you, I've got to go owl Ginny and Luna." Harry went back to sorting through his books as Neville left, not noticing Professor McGonagall's presence until she cleared her throat.
"Well I have to admit, I didn't think you had it in you, Potter," She said.
Harry got to his feet and used his hands to brush the dirt off of his pants. "Pardon?" He asked, unsure of what the headmistress meant.
"I honesty didn't believe you could be so reckless! Four students reported hearing you shouting at Malfoy in the corridors three nights ago, and now, I hear from Argus that he caught you drunk in the school grounds last night with Granger! What has gotten into you? Did you not understand the depth of our conversation on the first day of school?"
"Yes, Professor, I did. I'm sorry-- I promise that I'll behave from now on."
"You'd better, Potter. I don't care if you defeated the darkest sorcerer of your time, if you give me so much as one reason to believe that you're not fit for this job--"
"Yes, I know, I'll be out of a job before I can sat 'credentials,'" Harry sighed. "Believe me, Professor, I understand."
"Good. Now, I've got to go talk to Mr. Malfoy about this as well-- seeing as neither of you know how to behave yourselves, I suggest that you stay away from each other until you learn to handle your temper."
"Yes, Headmistress. I'll do my best to stay away from Malfoy," Harry said.
"Better than your best, Potter. I don't want a single complaint for the rest of the year!" McGonagall gave Harry a pointed look as she backed out of the classroom. "Better than your best!" She called out one more time before leaving Harry alone with his mounds of books.
While picking up another book, a piece of paper fell onto the floor. When he bent down to pick it up, he noticed that it was actually a napkin, which had green, cursive handwriting on it.
"Harry, come on! I want to get to Flourish and Blott's before the crowd!" Draco said, tugging on Harry's arm.
"Just one second, I want to see if they have any owl treats for Kiwi." They were supposed to be going to the bookstore so that Draco's girl-crush could sign his book about bat anatomy-- at least, that's what he thought Draco had said, but a new brand of owl treats had caught Harry's eye at Eeylop's Owl Emporium.
"You already spoil that owl, Harry! She won't be able to lift off the ground if you give her any more treats! Now come on, Martina Winston is signing books and if my favourite Potions Master doesn't sign my copy of The Enclopedia of Bat Eyes, I will cry. You don't want to be responsible for making your boyfriend cry, do you?"
"Fine, but I want an ice cream after this," Harry surrendered, allowing Draco to pull him down the alley.
"Yes, dear," Draco laughed. "Ugh, I knew it would be busy! Let's push through, maybe they'll see you and fall to their knees in praise," he joked as they entered the book store.
Harry rolled his eyes and followed Draco into the crowd. Of course there were mumbles and disapproving looks as the other customers saw Harry holding onto Draco's shoulder from behind, but they were used to it by now, well, Harry was.
Draco cursed under his breath as he saw Martina Winston leaving the book store from the back door, waving goodbye to the group of fans who watched her with satisfied grins, holding their signed copies of her best-selling book.
"Draco, I'm sure she'll be back," Harry said. "Don't authors usually come to bookstores a lot?"
"No! This was her last day of tour. She's off into the wilderness tomorrow morning to scavenge for rare plants, and she won't return until wintertime!"
"Alright, we'll go through the back and use my Chosen One charms to get her to sign your book," Harry said.
"You would do that for me?" Draco asked. "I know you don't like using your fame to get an advantage..."
"Of course! I would do anything for you, Draco."
Draco grinned. "Wow. I think I might be a bad influence on you," he chuckled.
"Well? Are we going or not? At this rate, we'll have to go into the wilderness to find her," Harry asked, grabbing Draco's hand.
"You're right, you're right, of course, let's go," Draco said before the two left through the back door. They saw Martina Winston getting into a Ministry Car. "WAIT!" Draco called, running towards the car, dragging Harry along behind him.
Upon reaching the car, Draco and Harry were both gasping for breath. Martina smiled at them from the inside of the car. She opened the window.
"Miss Winston, hi, I'm so sorry! I'm a huge fan, and I was just wondering if you would sign my book," Draco explained once his breathing was at a reasonable pace.
"Of course, love. What's your name?" She asked.
"I'm Draco."
"And are you a Potions Master too, Draco?" She asked as she took the book from him.
"No, but I hope to be. I want to be just like you-- I want to invent potions that help people. I'm already working on a potion that has healing abilities equivalent to phoenix tears."
"Well, once you become a full Potion's Master, give me a call. I'd love to work with such an innovative Potioneer like you." Martina handed Draco his book and a napkin from The Leaky Cauldron. She drove off without another word, leaving Draco squealing, and Harry grinning in pride.
"Did you hear that? She wants to be my lab partner! This is the best day of my life!" Draco gushed. "Will you keep this safe for me? I don't want to lose it," Draco asked, handing Harry the loose napkin.
"Of course."
Harry smiled softly at the memory. It was years ago, nearly a year after the war had ended, and he and Draco had started dating about two months prior. Harry grabbed the napkin and left his classroom, taking the moving staircases towards the dungeons.
Class was just letting out as Harry reached the Potion's classroom, and he heard Draco talking to one of his students from outside the door.
"I understand, Byrne. I will give you a two day extension on the essay, but remember, school comes before quidditch."
"But Professor Malfoy--"
"Byrne..." Malfoy said with a tone of warning. "Don't make me change my mind."
"Yes, Professor," the student said. "Thank you." The student-- Olivia Byrne, Harry recognized, rushed out of the classroom, noticing Harry immediately as she came into the corridor. "Hello Professor Potter," she said.
"Hello Miss Byrne. I expect that the responsibilities of being Quidditch captain and being a N.E.W.T. student have you under a lot of pressure?" Harry asked.
"Yes, Professor. How am I supposed to complete an essay on the properties of bat eyes if I have to try out a whole new team?"
"Well, Byrne, I'll let you in on a little secret: I was once in the exact position that you are in now, except my professors were not nearly as nice. My suggestion is that you focus on your schoolwork first, and book the quidditch pitch for the earliest time on a Saturday morning."
"Is that how you did it?" she asked
"Well, no. But it's how I wish I would have. It probably would have given us a better run."
"Did you lose the quidditch cup?"
"No, but we just barely won. Don't stress yourself out too much, Byrne, I'm sure Professor Granger would be pleased if you lead Gryffindor house to another Quidditch Cup and House-Cup victory."
"Alright, Professor. Thank you."
"Anytime, Byrne. Now off you go, finish that essay for Professor Malfoy."
"Yes, sir." Byrne ran to catch up to her friends, who waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, giggling.
Harry ignored them and knocked on the door of the Potions classroom.
"Come in," came Malfoy's voice from inside.
Harry pushed the door open and walked in silently. "Er-- sorry to bother you, Dra-- Malfoy, but I just wanted to return this. I forgot about it, and then today, when I was going through my books, I found it tucked away. I thought you would like it back."
Malfoy took the napkin from Harry and for a quick second, almost as though Harry had imagined it, he smiled. "Thank you, Potter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do before the celebration tonight." Malfoy gestured towards the door, and Harry nodded his head curtly before exiting.
They didn't fight during that entire, though admittedly short, conversation. It was progress. Harry grinned to himself the entire way back to his office.