Chapter Text
He was attracted to guys.
Right.
He could accept that.
Bit weird and unexpected, but after finding out he was a Horcrux and dying then coming back to life, this was easier to stomach.
His first kiss with a bloke being with a Slytherin—a bit odd and spoke about his preference which was apparently smug gits with foul personalities.
However, the revelation he was having the hardest time to come to terms with was that he apparently wouldn't mind Malfoy snogging him.
Draco-Bloody-Malfoy, ex-Death Eater, former childhood nemesis, aristocratic tosser who looked like a ferret.
Except...He didn't. Not really.
Harry wished he did because then he wouldn't be experiencing this internal turmoil.
He thought about how he had been noticing Malfoy more lately and while he assured himself that it was because he was inevitably stuck with the snakes and sharing a dorm with him, he was now coming to terms with the horrifying discovery. It wasn’t just because of a residual tension that he found himself staring at Malfoy whenever the light caught his blonde strands or the moments his usual sneer softened when he was certain no one was looking. With an uncomfortable jolt, he had to admit it to himself now. His pulse often quickened in the blonde’s presence when their gazes met, because he was attracted to him.
The very notion felt wrong and like a betrayal, considering their problematic past.
He turned to lie on his stomach and pushed his face into the pillow, groaning.
He was so not going to get a wink of sleep tonight, he realized dejectedly.
🐍
“What happened to you?”
Harry blinked into his cup of tea and looked across the table. It took him a few seconds to register his best friend staring at him with a raised eyebrow.
He dragged a hand over his face. “Didn’t sleep properly.”
Hermione visibly disapproved. “You are aware that we have Ministry Officials coming in tomorrow?”
Harry grimaced. “We do? Why?”
After Hermione’s sigh and eye-roll, he figured that he should have known the reason.
“Honestly, Harry—you need to pay more attention in classes.” Despite the chiding, he was still too tired to give any sort of reaction or feel shame.
“McGonagall explained that representatives for each Department are visiting in order to give us a better picture what each of the departments is for. The aim is to have those interested in working there in the future to approach the officials and from there on we could even get internship while still attending Hogwarts.” Hermione finished with excitement which he unfortunately did not share.
“The Ministry of Magic doesn’t really evoke joyful memories,” he noted quietly as he swirled the teaspoon in his cup.
A warm hand covered his and when he looked into Hermione’s eyes, they were full of understanding and sorrow.
“I know, but let us try and associate it with better moments to come, like our future professions.”
He appreciated her attempt at making him feel better, but he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, let alone go back there.
Nevertheless, he needed to move on and make an effort. “You are right. Thanks.” Harry forced a smile and it was worth it because he was rewarded with Hermione’s genuine one.
A group of Rawenclaws started chatting with them, but he didn’t have the desire to engage. Thankfully, his best friend was satisfied to converse with them while he finished his breakfast in peace.
He noticed his dormmates had not yet come down to eat which was more than fine with him. After all, he snuck out early so as to not encounter them. He was still angry at Zabini and Malfoy…Well, he would rather not entertain himself with thoughts of Malfoy, because it was too complicated for him to unravel that mess at the moment.
Harry sighed and traced the patterns in his now lukewarm tea, his hand movement languid as he wondered if any of the departments in the Ministry piqued his interest.
🐍
Avoiding Zabini proved to be easy as the male did not seem inclined to see him either.
Their paths crossed at the lecture that day, but nothing was exchanged between them while he did catch Malfoy’s gaze at one point which made Harry a bit nervous.
He broke it off quickly and tried to focus on the professor’s voice, drowning out any unwelcome thoughts about any of the Slytherins, especially the knot in his stomach.
At dinner time he ate with the Gryffindors and later went to the tower to spend some quality time with his friends. To his delight, Hermione joined them as well and it was great.
It reminded him of those rare moments during the war when he really felt as if he was home.
He pushed all troublesome thoughts to the back of his mind and let himself enjoy one of the rare moments of happiness in his life. He truly hoped there would be more of them.
🐍
Harry pondered if he held prejudice due to the war, but he really disliked the people from the Ministry.
The exception were Ron’s dad and Kingsley, but with them it was different. He knew them personally.
The people standing in the Great Hall, giving lectures about their departments and jobs seemed too prim and proper. He couldn’t help but think how they had given the same speech dozens of times on various occasions, considering how practiced and monotone it sounded. It came off as insincere.
It could be that he was too harsh, because it wasn’t like many people were mad about their occupation, but he had no idea if he wanted to take any part in the visit to the Ministry.
Unfortunately, the choice was taken from him as McGonagal informed them all that by the end of the day they will have to each send a note to the Ministry to inform them which department they would like to visit in the upcoming days.
“Didn’t you say it was optional?” he whispered at Hermione and she just shrugged her shoulders. “Thought it was.”
Bugger.
🐍
“So, the three of you were the only ones to sign up? To tell you the truth, that is more than I expected.” The man before them remarked with a hint of a grin.
Harry was still stupefied when the man beckoned him to enter since he was the last one to arrive. The expressions on the faces of the two Slytherins mirrored his own, all of them probably thinking what bad luck they had to be here together.
One of the main reasons he decided on the Department of Mysteries was precisely because he figured not many people would have it as their first choice. After all, Unspeakables were known to be secretive, so much that their identities were rarely disclosed due to the nature of their job.
It did not occur to him that both of his dormmates would be curious about the same department, but then again it could be that their reasoning was similar as his, considering how their reputation was no longer in high regards in the Wizarding community. As they did not communicate, naturally they couldn’t have realized that they sent their owls to the same Department, expressing their desire to pay them a visit.
Bloody Unspeakables, why couldn’t they have scheduled them individual appointments, he grumbled internally as he shuffled closer, but still keeping his distance from Zabini and Malfoy who sullenly paid attention to the Unspeakable before them.
“My name is not important as you are only here to visit and there is no need for introductions as I am well aware of your identities.”
Both Slytherins stiffened slightly at the man’s shark-like grin. He was probably in his mid-forties, his nose crooked, brown hair starting to recede, but his eyes were sharp and dark as they landed on Harry. He straightened, not fond to be scrutinized although he was mostly used to it by now.
“I am bound by a strict oath of silence and cannot reveal details of any of the cases we are working on, so do not bother asking about it.”
All three of them frowned, because how would they even learn anything useful? Harry did understand why it was not allowed to speak about their work as this was the most secretive department within Ministry of Magic, but he wasn’t too keen on that being his path in the future. What if he was assigned some unethical work and couldn’t share it with Ron and Hermione? Still, he trailed after the unpleasant man who beckoned them to follow him with a wave of his hand.
They were given a brief tour of several rooms such as the Time Room and the Brain Room which was particularly nasty as there were floating brains in tanks of water which made Harry sick.
Once they reached the Hall of Prophecies, the weight of the traumatic events from that night crashed over him like a wave. The sense of loss and fear haunted him as he remembered Sirius, nausea clawing its way at the back of his throat.
He clutched his stomach and separated from the group, his disappearance going unnoticed as he had been behind the two Slytherins, keeping his distance.
Images of the battle filled his mind, his breathing shallow as he fought to steady himself, desperately trying to get somewhere safe.
To his utter horror, he ended up in the Death Chamber.
He stared at the Veil, Sirius’ face flashing before his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have been here, but the deeper reason why he chose this Ministry was to come to some sort of closure. Currently, it was proving to be more difficult than he had have imagined it to be. Standing here and reliving it all. He shuddered at the chilly air wrapping around him and closed his eyes tightly, not even realizing he placed his foot forward.
It was as if he was transported back to that moment when Sirius disappeared into the veil, leaving him devastated.
He could hear his voice echoing in the distance and just a bit closer he would be able to hear the message his godfather was trying to relay.
The trance he was in was broken abruptly when rough fingers dug into his shoulder, yanking him back with enough force to nearly throw him off balance.
His body jerked, the ringing in his ears unsettling as the raw, slightly panicked voice shouted at him without hesitation.
He blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his mind.
“What the bloody hell were you thinking Potter?! Surviving Voldemort, just to voluntarily cross into the afterlife—are you out of your mind?!”
The words made sense now and he was suddenly face to face with the Unspeakable who appeared as if he was going to burst a vein on his forehead.
“I am s-sorry, I don’t know what came over me. My body just moved on its own.” he confessed in a whisper.
The air in the room became oppressive, the eerie silence suffocating him.
“You are bloody lucky your two peers called me when they did, otherwise I do not want to think of the headline: Savour killed in the Ministry of Mysteries. We still haven’t recovered from the war, let alone have this smear on our name.” the man barked, his tone harsh and unyielding.
“You three go to the hall, this tour is over thanks to him. I need to fill some paperwork and don’t you two dare let him out of your sight.” The order was given to the two Slytherins and with anything but a gentle shove to his back he was pushed out of the room with his two dormmates following behind. It was only then that he realized they were there too and apparently responsible for saving his life.
Bollocks. Once again he owed them.
When it was just the three of them, he finally mustered up the courage to meet their gazes.
They were both studying him and it startled him how intense it seemed. No one said anything and they did not seem accusatory which was unsettling.
He expected them to mock him or ask him if he was insane. This was worse, because he had been so certain what their reactions were going to be.
“Erm…I—” He rubbed the back of his head, unsure what to say.
“Potter, do you want me to go find Granger?”
With complete dread, Harry realized that both of his dormmates seemed wary. Did they actually think he was trying to end his life?
Malfoy seemed on edge and the fact that he immediately asked him if he should bring Hermione, after the past the two of them had which was possibly even more troublesome than the one between Harry and Malfoy, was enough of a telltale of the blonde’s certainty in his intentions when stepping towards the Veil.
“Listen,” he began quietly, but his voice was firm. “I am aware how this appears, but you need to understand that I was not planning to go down that path. “
He could see that they weren’t fully convinced which was why he carried on. “It’s not what you think. I just thought of Sirius and the night of his death and it was a lot. I don’t want to die, but the memories were too strong and I guess I hadn’t completely…” Harry trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He wasn’t the best with words when it came to his emotions, let alone with people who were not his friends, but he hoped he managed to show them he was sincere.
Zabini had a contemplative expression, but said nothing.
On the other hand, Malfoy hesitated before he responded, his voice softer than usual. “ Alright, Potter. If you say so. How about we all go back to the castle together?”
Harry was then struck with the realization how unsure Malfoy was of his claim that he did not try and end it all. If he was even offering this.
This unexpected kindness did not help his growing attraction and efforts to push down these unwanted feelings.
Nevertheless, if he refused, he was certain the Slytherin duo would be even more suspicious of him and deem him as unstable.
Unwillingly, he nodded.
He ignored the traitorous flutter in his chest when the blonde seemed visibly relieved after that.
🐍
The return to Hogwarts was an awkward affair, but not unbearable.
There was apparent tension between him and Zabini as they kept their distance after everything with Malfoy between them.
It was clear that the tanned male was still offended after that comment Harry made about him being some no-name. He did not regret it, because Zabini’s words which implied he was beneath someone like Greengrass were carved into his mind as well.
Malfoy was a buffer between them, but he wasn’t exactly keen on doing anything to make the air a bit less heavy. Somehow, Harry even appreciated that. It would be pointless and tiring to try and pretend things were right when they weren’t.
Once they were on school grounds, Harry saluted them and was about to head on his own when pale fingers curled around his wrist.
His heart raced, even though the blonde quickly let go when Harry looked at him questioningly.
“I…Is it wise to be alone after everything?”
It irritated him mostly because it was hard to accept that Malfoy actually cared. He was confused and had no idea how to process that or react to it.
“Look, I really was not trying to end my life. I am not made of glass and I am not going to break. Thank you for everything, but I don’t need someone babying me and certainly not you two.”
Naturally, his temper got the best of him. He hated it when Malfoy’s expression became closed off, his posture now rigid.
“Duly noted, Potter.” In one swift motion, the Slytherin male left with Zabini in tow, who just threw him an unreadable glance.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his throat tight. He managed to ruin the already shaky truce he had with Malfoy just because he couldn’t stop his outburst.
He could feel the exhaustion in every muscle, the events of the day finally catching up to him. He dragged his feet towards the dorm, ready to just get under the covers and sleep until the morning.
“Harry?”
Hermione’s tentative voice made him turn around. She caught up to him in the hallway leading to the Dungeon.
Upon seeing his face, she frowned. “Long day?”
He nodded, not ready to discuss his near-death experience. He wasn’t even sure he would ever want to share that with her, noting the way her smile did not reach her eyes as she observed him.
“Why did you go there? It must have been so painful.” She inquired quietly.
Harry let out a quiet breath. “I thought I would get some sort of closure, if I faced it all.”
She was silent for a moment and he felt guilty that he made her worry about him. Again.
“And did you?”
“Not really.” Harry admitted dejectedly. She put her hand on his arm, offering comfort.
“I know we are not in the same house and that I may have been a bit distant as I found new friends in Ravenclaw, but please be assured that you can always come to me. Day and night. I will leave everything and come to you. You are my best friend, Harry.”
There were unshed tears in her earnest, big, brown eyes and he couldn’t help but pull her in a hug.
Harry usually kept his emotions locked away, but he couldn’t this time. He inhaled deeply, leaning into her. “You are my best friend, too. You and Ron, always have been and always will be. I am here for you too.”
She hiccupped into his chest and he pulled her closer, the reassurance that they will always have each other loud in the otherwise quiet hallway.
Once they separated, no more words were necessary. With a smile they bid each other good bye and Harry returned to the dorm with a lighter heart.
Thankfully, Zabini and Malfoy were not there and he went to his bed. He laid on his back for some time, feeling the heavy pull of his eyelids. He could feel himself slipping as he let himself relax into the pillow and rest at last.
🐍
Harry was grateful that the Defense against Dark Arts was the class they shared with Gryffindor, because he could be beside his friends.
The air was thick as they waited for their professor. Harry was quite fond of Felicity Cresswell, the calm and intelligent witch with Auror background who was new to Hogwarts as she took up the position of the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher.
He appreciated her no-nonsense attitude, but she wasn’t unfriendly like Snape had been. She could be warm and offer support and guidance whenever she saw someone struggling, or when a student approached her on their own.
He enjoyed it the most when she shared the practical aspects of defense, retelling stories about her experience as an Auror. It really suited him that she valued the practical work more than theory as she often had them fighting against dangerous creatures in the open, or recreating dark encounters to teach them how to respond to those situations under pressure.
He was hoping her lesson today would be one of those and was slightly disappointed when she announced they would remain in the classroom to work on the Imperius curse.
The air became thick with anticipation as the witch said that and started partnering them up.
“Potter, you will be working with Zabini and Malfoy.”
Harry exchanged a glance with Neville who threw him a sympathetic look. His gut clenched as he slowly made his way to the pair, the two already standing on one of the mats in the corner of the classroom.
They looked aloof and unwelcoming which he expected, considering everything.
“Potter.” Malfoy drawled with distaste in his voice, barely sparing him a glance.
“Let’s not waste time.” Zabini said, his voice smooth, but there was a definite edge to it.
“Can’t wait.” Harry muttered, the two narrowing their eyes at him.
“Oh believe us, we share the same sentiment.” Zabini’s tone deliberately low and smug with mockery.
Harry felt an unexpected heat at the back of his neck, annoyed and also a bit flustered as Zabini’s gaze lingered on him, the memory of his lips surfacing to the front of his mind completely unbidden.
Harry shook his head, unsettled.
“Come on, we don’t have all day.” Malfoy cut in, his voice hostile, sharp gaze fixed on Harry like a hawk.
“Fine by me.” Harry spat out and prepared his wand.
“Don’t let your guard down, the Imperious curse is one of the most dangerous ones.” Professor’s voice rang in his ears as she walked by, checking on students taking turns casting and resisting the curse.
They started practicing, but his attention kept drifting.
Zabini’s eyes were far too dark with intent as he cast the curse and a wave of coldness washed over him. He froze for a moment, his limbs heavy as if he had no command over them. The curse tried to control his body, but his mind screamed against the sensation of being manipulated against his will.
“No!” he growled, breaking against the curse with his will power.
His breath came fast as he regained control over his body.
“You should be more careful not to let your guard down so easily,” Zabini casually warned, but Harry could tell the arsehole was enjoying it. He probably loved seeing him submit, even for a moment. There was a rush of heat in his chest as the tanned male’s cool gaze rested on him, lips quirking at the corners.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Harry said tightly.
“Oh, but it is so fun.” Zabini practically purred under his breath, dark eyes predatory.
His pulse quickened, because despite everything the two Slytherins had an unwanted effect on him and he was sure they were also aware of it.
“Potter, you are not ready to mingle with the snakes,” Malfoy’s voice was taunting, but there was an underlying thread of something more which made his breath hitch.
“Potter, switch and practice with Longbottom.”
He looked startled at the professor who was eyeing the two Slytherins. Harry nodded, grateful for the save because his thoughts were jumbled. Even though he had his back turned to his dormmates for the rest of the class, he had a niggling feeling he was being watched.
🐍
Harry was the last one to remain in the classroom as the Professor made him in charge of tidying everything up. Once he was done he leaned his hands on the table, closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.
The classroom door swung shut and he turned around with a start. Zabini had returned and was now coming towards him. His body went rigid and while he was sure the male would not attack him physically, his heart hammered at being alone with him.
“What is it?” He asked, his voice rough.
Zabini’s dark eyes gleamed dangerously and it made him sweat.
“I think we should talk.”
“You already said more than enough that day.” Harry cursed himself for sounding so bitter and showing the male how much he cared.
His dormmate’s eyes shined with triumph as he was now right in front of Harry, invading his space.
“I agree that my choice of words was poor and uncalled for, but you sure did not remain even with your insult.” Zabini’s voice was low and filled with amusement instead of contempt.
Harry broke the gaze and turned to the side. “Whatever. How about you leave me alone?”
“What if I don’t want to?”
Harry swallowed, his eyes widening at Zabini’s intimate tone. The space between them felt charged as no clever retort came to his mind.
Zabini’s fingers moved to his chin, tilting his face slightly and forcing him to meet his hungry gaze. His voice was controlled, but there was no denying the raw intensity in it.
“I am not done with you. This is just the beginning.”
Harry’s knees almost buckled, but before he could do or say anything, Zabini’s lips brushed against his, sending shivers down his spine.
His mouth was on Harry’s in the next instant, the kiss demanding and filled with all the pent-up tension from these past few days. Harry wished he would remain angry and push the male, but his body betrayed him as he instinctively grabbed Zabini’s robes and pulled him closed. His heart was thudding wildly in his chest as the taller male tangled his fingers into Harry’s hair, deepening the kiss as if savouring every moment.
Harry could feel the heat radiating off the male as the hunger in the kiss consumed his thoughts. This time it seemed as if Zabini was the one who was less in control, the groans he let out doing something to Harry’s body which made him burn with shame and desire. He didn’t want this to end and yet he couldn’t let it continue.
He broke away, his breath ragged as he pushed at Zabini’s chest. The sight he was greeted with of the male with pupils blown wide, gasping as well, was something which would haunt him in his dreams and unfortunately in a good way.
“N-no. You don’t get to do this and then insult me how I am beneath Greengrass and her heritage. What kind of game are you playing?” Harry accused angrily as he tried to get his pulse under control.
He was surprised to see that Zabini was not as collected as usual.
“That came out wrong and I said it without thinking it through.” The tanned male admitted, but it was not a good enough of a reason for Harry to let it go so easily.
“Why would you say it if you didn’t mean it?”
Zabini looked at him with frustration. “How dense do you have to be? You know what, forget it. I didn’t mean it, not really. If you don’t want to believe me –fine, suit yourself.”
Just like that, the Slytherin walked away haughtily as if Harry was the one who was to blame!
He stood there in stunned silence, unable to process everything that had just happened.
🐍
Even though Harry was fiercely loyal to Hagrid, he could not deny that professor Grubbly-Plank was competent and good at teaching.
When she returned again as a substitute after Hagrid decided to abandon them for some time to investigate the new breed of fire-breathing spiders which were spotted in the mountains of Romania, Harry was actually slightly relieved.
She always had a more sensible choice of magical creatures and much as he hated to admit it, almost no one ended up in the Hospital Wing during her class, unlike when Hagrid was in charge.
The first thing she did was declare that they would all be working in randomly assigned pairs to care for a rotation of magical creatures over the next few weeks.
He hoped he would end up with a Hufflepuff as they were always open-minded, kind and worked hard.
“You have to learn to work with everyone as magic does not care who you are close to,” she announced briskly.
She started reading off the pairings and Harry spaced oUT for a moment until she reached the end of the list.
“Potter and Malfoy. Your first assignment will be care for a wounded Jarvey. There better be cooperation between everyone.” She warned, her gaze sharp as it lingered on him and Malfoy.
He did not dare object although his pulse quickened as he glanced at the blonde whose mouth was pressed in a thin line.
The irony was not lost on him as they had to watch after a creature which resembled a ferret. He barely stopped himself from snorting, careful not to provoke Malfoy who was now eyeing him suspiciously.
Naturally, they had to be the first pair that the professor picked to go to the shed where the creature was recovering right after class.
Malfoy’s jaw was tight as he nodded wordlessly at the older woman.
Harry sighed, running his hand through his locks.
When the class ended, he stopped for a moment at the sight of Zabini and Malfoy speaking in hushed voices. He turned away abruptly when Zabini caught him staring and started striding towards the shed.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows after the Care of Magical Creatures grounds and he was not too thrilled about having to deal with creatures who were described as prone to biting, scratching and causing chaos.
Professor had told them that the most important thing was for the creature to remain calm and for them to help it recover from a spell which was performed on it as an experiment by poachers. Luckily, they were caught, but the Jarvey has been injured and scared. Harry felt a pang of sympathy as he slowly opened the door and caught sight of the small, fluffy creature suspiciously observing him while backed into a corner.
Just as he was about to enter, Malfoy appeared next to him and his heart rate ticked up.
“Potter. The sooner we are done with this, the sooner we can be away from each other.” Malfoy remarked coldly.
Ah. The blonde was still not over Harry’s outburst after they returned from the Ministry.
“Right, sounds perfect to me.” Harry responded despite the discomfort in his chest. Malfoy just nodded tightly and entered first.
Harry was surprised how gracefully Malfoy moved towards the creature, kneeling in front of it without hesitation. The Jarvey seemed petrified as he hissed and Harry was ready to try and do something, but he stopped short when the blonde softly murmured reassuring phrases as his hands moved carefully until he gently stroked the creature’s fur. To his shock, the Jarvey tensed before relaxing under the touch, as a sign of trust.
Harry stood back, not wanting to disrupt Malfoy’s quiet confidence with which he handled the creature. Ever since the start of the year, Malfoy had truly been showing him how much he had changed from the arrogant, bratty Slytherin he had been before. Naturally, they all have and even though he still displayed those tendencies at times, Hermione had been right about him.
Unfortunately for Harry, it made the blonde’s actions even more captivating and he was eager to discover more.
“Why are you so good with it?” Harry blurted out, far too curious.
Malfoy continued coaxing the Jarvey towards him with deliberate movements in order to feed him his medicine.
“I grew up with creatures like this. Mother and I tended to them.” The blonde admitted quietly, a small smile playing across his features and it made Harry’s breath lodge in his throat.
“You can approach now. Tentatively.” Malfoy ushered him although Harry was still uncertain.
He attempted to mirror Malfoy’s movements and actions, but paused when the Jarvey’s hackles rose.
“Shhh, he won’t hurt you.” The blonde’s voice was soft and comforting as he petted the creature and Harry stared at him fascinated.
“You can try again.”
When Harry did not respond, Malfoy turned to look at him, his eyes widening slightly.
It was only then that Harry realized how close they were, the puff of Malfoy’s breath tickling his cheek.
His throat went dry as he got up and moved away. “Maybe next time.” He cleared his throat and Malfoy nodded stiffly as he returned his gaze back to the fluffy creature.
Harry was content just watching how his dormmate handled the creature, his thoughts drifting.
It was only after some time that Malfoy’s voice pulled him back to the present.
“Potter,” Malfoy said, his voice low and laced with something that could have been warning. “A word of caution.”
Harry blinked, startled, and looked up to find the blonde Slytherin tending to the creature with an air of focused detachment. He wondered what brought upon this change in Malfoy’s demeanour.
Malfoy’s eyes flicked to him. “Do you realize what would happen if any of your Gryffindors found out about what you did with Blaise?”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he broke in cold sweat, unprepared for this topic. Was Malfoy aware of the 2nd kiss they had shared?
Also, he hadn’t really thought it through, too confused with his feelings, let alone having time to ponder about what others would thing, The idea that someone might find out made him uncomfortable at the moment, but it was more because he did not have this figured out himself and the thought of anyone meddling just did not sit right with him.
He frowned at the blonde. “I… haven’t thought about it.”
Malfoy’s gaze turned sharper. “You really are dim-witted, aren’t you? The Saviour of the Wizarding World, seduced by a Slytherin. The headlines would write themselves. Skeeter would be all over it.” His voice had bite to it which made Harry bristle.
“Why do you care?” Harry asked too quickly, too defensively.
Malfoy paused, setting the creature down gently before he stood up and faced Harry fully.
His expression shifted from sardonic to serious. “Because Blaise is my friend. And you, Potter… You don’t even realize what kind of mess you’re making and how reckless you are being. You are not even considering what this will do to him. The Slytherin name is already tarnished enough. We don’t need it dragged through the mud anymore.”
Harry caught the subtle tension in Malfoy’s posture, the way his hands fisted at his sides, and it made something uneasy coil in his stomach.
“Just a friend, huh?” Harry muttered, though it wasn’t really a question.
Malfoy’s gaze snapped to his, sharp and icy. There was a coolness to his tone when he replied. “What’s that supposed to mean, Potter?”
For a split second, Harry thought he might have touched a nerve? Then, as if to answer his own question, his gaze darted to the way Malfoy’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening.
He suddenly realized that if his suspicion was right—that there was more between Malfoy and Zabini than simple friendship—then the last thing he should do right now was press it. Especially considering how easily Malfoy could turn that coldness onto him.
“Zabini can make his own decisions,” Harry said, lowering his voice slightly. “And so can I. If I want to explore—whatever this is—it’s my business. It doesn’t matter who I do it with, Slytherin or not. The war’s over. People can judge me for whatever they want, but I’m done with all that ‘Hero of the Wizarding World’ nonsense. I just want to be... Harry.”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them. The creature shuffled in the corner breaking the tension momentarily, but the stillness hung heavy in the air. Malfoy’s eyes, wide in something akin to surprise, were locked on him.
Finally, Malfoy scoffed, though the sound was more bitter than amused. “You truly are mad, Potter.” He shook his head slowly, as if trying to comprehend what Harry had just said. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. None.”
Harry stared at him, waiting for something more, some sort of insult. Instead, Malfoy turned away, his voice quiet now, almost thoughtful. “You know… you might be right about one thing. The war’s over, and so is the bloody ‘Hero’ business. But that doesn’t mean the world suddenly gets simpler. It just doesn’t work that way.”
Harry watched him for a moment, trying to process what Malfoy had said. “Then… what do you think I should do?” he asked, his voice a little more vulnerable than he’d meant it to be.
Malfoy hesitated and then snorted softly. “I’m not giving you advice, Potter. You’re on your own with that one.”
Harry stood there, feeling the weight of the conversation settling over him. Malfoy had always been an enigma—one minute, a sneering, superior Slytherin, and the next, someone who surprised Harry with moments of unexpected vulnerability. He had no idea what was going on in Malfoy’s head right now, but he could feel how thick the air around them had become.
"You know," Harry said after a long silence, his voice betraying a quiet, uncomfortable honesty. "I didn't ask for all of this. To be… the Hero of the Wizarding World. But now that it’s over, I have to figure what I really want, for the first time in my life."
His words hung between them, and Harry cursed himself the moment he said it. Why was he saying this? Why was he so… open, all of a sudden? Malfoy didn’t care about any of it—why should he?
But then Malfoy shifted, his back to Harry as he once again tended to the creature. The air seemed to change, a subtle shift in the way Malfoy’s shoulders stiffened. Harry realized, with a jolt, that maybe Malfoy wasn’t as indifferent as he tried to appear.
Malfoy’s voice was quieter this time, a little more strained. "You think it’s all that simple? That you can just… step away from it all? From the fame, from the expectations?" His words had a cold edge, but there was something else there too—something Harry couldn’t quite place.
"No," Harry answered, his throat tight. "But I don’t want to keep pretending I’m someone I’m not, either. I’m not the Boy Who Lived anymore. I’m just Harry. But maybe even that isn’t as easy to figure out as I thought."
A long pause stretched between them. Harry took a deep breath, casting a glance at Malfoy’s profile. He couldn’t stop the thought that had been creeping into his mind for days now—how different Malfoy seemed when he wasn’t hiding behind that arrogant mask. How much more real he seemed.
For a split second, Malfoy turned to face him, and Harry’s heart stuttered in his chest. Their eyes locked—Malfoy’s silvery gaze unreadable, but there was something in the intensity of his stare. Something that made Harry’s pulse race in a way that had nothing to do with anger or the usual animosity between them.
But Malfoy quickly looked away, his expression hardening once more. "You’re still thinking about Blaise, aren’t you?" His voice was flat, dismissive.
Harry’s stomach tightened. “What’s it to you?”
“Don’t play dumb, Potter,” Malfoy snapped, though it sounded more like a defense than an attack. “You think I don’t notice the way he looks at you? The way you look at him? Not to mention that time I practically stumbled into you two kissing.”
Harry swallowed, feeling the weight of Malfoy’s words press into him. He was relieved that the blonde seemed not to be aware they had kissed again. He wasn’t sure if Malfoy was genuinely angry or something else entirely.
“Malfoy…” Harry started, but his voice trailed off as he searched for the right words. There was too much too be discussed and yet he couldn’t process his own thoughts let alone formulate them into words.. But it was as if something in the air between them had shifted. Their proximity felt heavier now—fraught with the possibility of something else. Something unspoken.
Malfoy sighed, raking a hand through his platinum blonde hair, his movements almost harsh. "You don’t get it, do you, Potter?" His voice was low, but there was an unmistakable tension there. "This whole… thing you’re doing with Blaise… it’s not just about him. And it’s not just about you, either. You’re dragging me into it whether you mean to or not."
Harry froze, his breath caught in his throat. "What do you mean?" His voice was barely above a whisper, as if afraid to ask but needing to hear the answer.
Malfoy turned slowly, his grey eyes boring into Harry’s with an intensity that made Harry’s chest tighten. "You think I don’t see you staring at me like that as well?" His tone was barely controlled now, the cracks in his facade beginning to show. "You think I don’t feel it? The way you make me want to…"
He trailed off, as if realizing the weight of his words, and Harry saw the struggle in Malfoy’s face—the way his lips pressed together in a tight line as if fighting against whatever it was that was slowly breaking through. Harry’s heart pounded in his chest, the air between them crackling with something neither of them could quite name.
“Malfoy…” Harry said again, this time with more hesitation. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for because this was very dangerous territory and he had no idea if he was ready to thread there.
Malfoy didn’t respond. Instead, he just stood there, his gaze shifting between Harry’s eyes and the ground as if searching for an escape.
"Don’t." Malfoy muttered finally, the words sharp and clipped. "You don’t get to do this, Potter. Not to me. Not now."
His tone was filled with something that bordered on desperation, and for a moment, Harry almost reached out to him. Almost. But then Malfoy stepped back, as if putting distance between them was the only thing that could save him.
“I’m not Blaise,” Malfoy said, his voice lower now, tinged with something that sounded like pain. “I cannot afford to be so imprudent. Not with my background and certainly not with your status and the history between us.”
Harry stood there, unsure of how to respond. His heart was racing in his chest, his mind whirling, but one thing was clear—Malfoy felt something. The question was, what were they both supposed to do with it now and if Harry was brave enough to attempt something since it was clear Malfoy was pulling back.