Chapter Text
Draco had been on high alert ever since he had parted from the Gryffindors. There was a sick feeling to his stomach; the pressure from the situation with Snape and the Stone had reached boiling point, and although Draco was determined to get to the truth once and for all, a part of him was terrified he had been wrong the whole time, and was about to pay for it.
Half of the teachers table was empty - no Severus or McGonagall, Flitwick or Quirrell… they must be on high alert since Dumbledore had left. This didn’t sit well with Draco, however, who desperately needed to talk to Snape. His nervous energy seemed to get picked up on by Blaise, who nudged him when he saw Draco had failed to eat much of his dinner.
“What is up with you, Draco? You look ready to be sick.” Blaise asked, before leaning back. “You aren’t going to be sick, are you?”
“No,” Draco said, rubbing a hand over his eyes and thinking of a lie. “I’m just worried over… the exam results.”
“You cannot be that worried over your results,” Blaise said in disbelief, his eyebrow raised. “Greg and Vincent have every right to be worried, but you?”
“I just think I messed up on Potions, and if I’m not top of the class, Professor Snape will kill me.” Draco said, running his fingers through his hair. “Perhaps I best go and speak to him, to see if he’ll tell me my grade in advance.”
“You’re mad, Malfoy,” Blaise said, shaking his head. “But go for it - while you’re there, try and get me a better grade too, won’t you?”
So Draco took off, racing down to Snape’s office and knocking loudly on the door. There was no answer, but the wards still allowed him entry, which he was thankful for. He opened the door and looked around the dimly lit space - he could see nothing out of place, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t go looking this time. He went through all the cupboards he could, looking for clues of some kind, but only finding potion ingredients. In drawers, it was simply scrolls with notes on the different students, nothing exciting.
That was it - there was just… nothing. Nothing to clear Snape’s name, nor anything to suggest wrongdoing. It was enough to make Draco’s head spin.
He had no idea how long it had been when he heard the door open - Draco had been pulling items off of a shelf, trying to see if anything was hidden behind it. He jumped back from the shelf and marched over to his Godfather.
“Professor, finally!” Draco said, unable to keep the annoyance out of his tone. Snape seemed surprised to see him; he seemed to be a bit rattled. “I nearly left to go searching for you.”
“Were you looking for your birthday present?” Snape asked, his tone dry. “You cannot wait one more day?”
“No,” Draco said, crossing his arms. “I need to talk to you, Severus. It’s highly important.”
“Well, I suggest you make it quick,” Snape said, pulling off his heavy cloak and draping it over the back of his chair. He was distracted, looking through his drawers. “I have somewhere I need to be.”
“... Is it the third floor corridor?” Draco asked, his voice quiet. Snape froze at the question, slowly lifting his head to look at Draco through his black hair. Draco met his gaze, though he did swallow as he felt the air shift, their magic sensing the tension and making the room feel smaller.
“What do you know about the third floor, Draco?” Severus asked, his tone giving nothing away.
“I know about Fluffy,” Draco admitted, feeling his body twitch as Snape’s brow furrowed. “I know about the Philosopher’s Stone. And… I know someone wants to steal it.”
“And who wants to steal it?” Snape asked, walking around his desk to stand over Draco. Draco fought the urge to take a large step back.
“... I don’t know, sir.” Draco said, not looking away from his Godfather. “But I think you do.”
Nothing was said after that. Draco held his breath, his grey eyes staring into the black pools of Snape’s. He had no real plan of what to do if the Gryffindors had been correct, but he could only hope that Snape’s somewhat stunted affection for him would keep him out of harm.
Just as Draco slowly started to reach for his wand tucked into his robes, Snape sighed loudly and slouched onto the desk. It was so out of his character to slouch, that Draco would have laughed if his heart wasn’t beating so fast in his chest.
“I have a very large suspicion, though not all are convinced. I have concerns that the Stone is in danger tonight, and I need to keep an eye on my suspect.” Severus muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “How did you find out about all of this, Draco? Only the teaching staff are aware of the Stone being in the school.”
“I can’t tell you everything right now, there isn’t enough time.” Draco replied, sagging back onto the desk too. It’s not him, I’m okay, Severus is innocent, kept going through his mind. “But this whole year, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley have been convinced you were after the Stone. I’ve been telling them it couldn’t possibly be you, Severus, not that you made it easy.” Draco complained, as if Snape purposefully did that.
“Is that why you’ve been spending so much time with them?” Snape pressed.
“We are friends, but yes, it’s been a big part of it.” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “We need to go now; Harry was determined to confront you - or, well the thief - on the third floor tonight. I made him promise to let me talk to you first before he did anything drastic.”
“He’s what?” Snape snapped, making Draco stand to attention. Now Draco felt like the one getting into trouble.
“Well, he’s not going to now,” Draco said meekly. “I said I would meet them at Fluffy’s door by curfew, we’ve got time to get there before that.”
“You are not coming with me,” Snape said sharply, turning to head out of the office. “You are to go straight to the dungeons, before I start deducting points from Slytherin!”
“But Professor,” Draco frowned, and began to follow after him, “if you show up without me, they’ll think you’ve hurt me - Harry certainly won’t believe you. I need to come with you so they don’t get the wrong impression.”
“I’m not scared of three first years, especially Harry Potter.” Snape grumbled, but gestured for Draco to follow him. The Slytherin did so at pace to keep up with his Godfather’s strides. “Once they have been located, I expect you all to return to your dormitories with argument. Understand?”
“Yes sir,” Draco replied, and actually meant it - he was so glad that an adult was finally involved and would actually keep them safe. The burden of the Stone was no longer on their shoulders. “Severus, who do you think is really after the Stone?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he responded as they left the dungeons. “Though I can assure you, it is well guarded. Even if the thief can get through some of the trials, the Stone shall remain out of reach. Now, hurry.”
They raced through the hallways, and up the stairs - thankfully, they seemed to pick up on the urgency of the situation as they did not put them to the wrong floor As they entered the silent corridor, Draco looked up and down with a frown - because it seemed to be empty. Unless they were hiding under the Cloak?
“Guys?” Draco called out, then shouted their names individually, but no one responded. Draco turned to face Snape, a frown on his face. “What time is it? It’s not past curfew, is it?”
Snape cast tempus, showing it was only just coming up for curfew… meaning, his friends should have only just been arriving. “Let’s go to the entrance,” Snape murmured, gesturing to the door that had Fluffy behind it. Draco reached out, trying to feel for the Cloak, but there was nothing. There was a sinking feeling in Draco’s stomach, which only got worse when Snape cursed.
“Draco, I suspect your so-called friends didn’t wait for you as promised.” Snape seethed, pulling out his wand. The words were like taking a curse to his heart, and he felt his face twist as he processed it. They hadn’t waited for him. They had broken their promise, and as far as Draco knew, they could be dead behind that door. His vision doubled, and he blinked quickly to clear it. He wouldn’t be caught crying in front of Severus. “I require you to wake Professor McGonagall, she is acting Headmistress tonight and needs to be aware three students are in danger-”
“No need Severus; the real Headmaster is here.” a voice said from behind them. Albus Dumbledore appeared from the shadows, in pale lilac robes that seemed to sparkle even in the darkened corridor. He peered down at Draco from behind the half-moon glasses he wore. Draco fought the childish urge to take a step behind Severus as he was silently scrutinised, already feeling prickly about the fact that Harry hadn’t stuck to his word.
“Headmaster,” Snape seemed grateful to see him. “The Stone has been compromised as we suspected; three students from Gryffindor are unaccounted for.”
“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded, as if Snape was giving him an update on the weather. “Professor Snape, would you please escort Mr Malfoy back to the dungeons? I can take over from here.”
“But, what about Harry?” Draco stuttered, taken aback by how casual Dumbledore was behaving. He may be extremely hurt that Harry had left him behind, but he couldn’t imagine leaving him in danger. “And Ron and Hermione?”
Dumbledore just shook his head, stopping Draco from voicing any further concern - he wondered if he had used magic to shush him, or if just intimidated Draco enough to quieten him. “Worry not, Mr Malfoy - the danger has passed. Please, return to your bed. You shall see your friends soon enough.”
Draco was hardly going to argue any further, although part of him wanted to. He said nothing as he walked with Snape back to the Slytherin common room, but just listened to his Godfather rant about why he should never have bothered with foolish Gryffindors in the first place, especially Harry Potter.
“Gryffindors only care about themselves,” Snape told him firmly at the door, a hand on his shoulder. Draco felt himself nod, the movement jerky. “Don’t let them fool you again, Draco; you’re better than that. I’ll speak to you in the morning. Try and sleep.”
But Draco didn’t sleep a wink that night. Instead, he lay in bed, watching the green hue from the lake cast strange shapes around the ceiling, and thought about what an idiot he had been to take Harry’s word. Clearly, he had had no intention of waiting for Draco at all, and that made him feel sick with embarrassment. But he refused to cry, even when he felt his eyes well up again - they didn’t deserve his tears.
*
The next day, the castle was practically buzzing with activity. It turned out that word spread fast in Hogwarts, and it seemed everyone knew some version of the events from last night. Slytherin Prefects were telling anyone who would listen that they had seen an unconscious Harry Potter being carried to the Hospital Wing, and that a Hufflepuff that had been there already overheard something about Professor Quirrell being some sort of bad guy all along. Draco chose to skip breakfast, not wanting to hear anymore about it, and instead headed straight to Snape’s office. Thankfully, his Godfather had also chosen to avoid the Great Hall.
“So… you’ll be pleased to know the Gryffindors are alright. Potter is yet to wake, and Weasley is still under observation, but the three of them are well. The remains of Professor Quirrell were found down there, with Potter knocked out cold.”
“You thought it was Quirrell this whole time,” Draco mused, leaning his elbow on Snape’s desk and resting his head in his hand. He couldn’t meet his eyes, not when he felt so stupid and vulnerable.
“I did, but he played his part so well, I could never fully prove it.” Snape grumbled, probably annoyed that Harry had somehow stolen the glory from him. “No one suspects the apparent coward, hiding in plain sight.”
“He couldn’t have acted alone,” Draco said, his voice monotone. “He wasn’t clever enough for that, and the centaurs were sure You-Know-Who was hiding in the Forest, killing the unicorns.”
“Yes,” Snape sighed, “I am not sure if the Dark Lord simply managed to force his way into Quirrell’s being, or if Quirrell seeked him out in hope of gaining some of his power. Either way, he was doomed.”
“And… and how did Potter stop him, sir?” Draco asked, swallowing even though his mouth felt dry.
Snape seemed to pause at the question, as if he had to process it before he could answer. “He is protected in ways he will never understand,” he chose to say, though Draco knew that was not his first choice of answer. “And he is a powerful wizard. A foolish, idiotic, powerful wizard. Now, enough of these questions…” his Godfather waved his wand, and a small wrapped box appeared in front of Draco. Draco just blinked at it.
“Your present,” Snape said, gesturing to the gift. “It’s your birthday, Draco. And here, your mother sent you a ridiculous amount of sweets, and made me promise to tell you the rest of your gifts are waiting for you at home.”
“Oh,” Draco murmured, reaching out to take the gifts. He had completely forgotten his twelfth birthday thanks to all the madness that had happened within the last twenty four hours. “May I open this later, Severus? I’m not really in the mood for gifts or celebrations.”
Snape frowned - he had never known Draco to turn down presents - but told him yes. He had to shoo him out when he was summoned to a meeting with Dumbledore, which was unfortunately when Draco bumped into Granger. He actually hadn’t seen her, first of all, because she had been surrounded by a gaggle of students, all talking loudly about what had happened. It was only when he was passing that she popped out from the group, storming after him and calling his name. He only quickened his steps, determined to get back to the safety of his common room, but she caught his arm before he got there.
“Hi, Draco.” she said in that soft tone she used on Hagrid. Draco looked at her, unimpressed. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Draco forced out, looking away when she tried to smile at him. Silence fell between them. It felt stifling, but Draco wasn’t going to break it.
“So…” Hermione said, when it all became too much. “You were right.”
“I was,” he said rigidly, dipping his head.
“The whole time, really.”
“Mmhm.”
“And I’m sorry that we didn’t listen to you.” Hermione said in a rush. “You just didn’t have proof, and we were so worried if we waited too long-”
“-’too long’? How about if you had waited for me at all!” Draco snapped, sending her a sharp glare. “I was there on time, before curfew, and yet still, no one waited for me! Typical Gryffindors, always rushing in with no thought or plan.” Draco said with a sneer, before pushing past her and storming off. He just didn’t want to face this right now, not with Hermione, who was meant to be cleverer than Ron and Harry, when Draco had defended her-
“He’s not awake yet,” Hermione called after him. Draco’s steps faltered, but he didn’t turn back. “I went to check on him this morning, and Ron. Just… I just thought you would want to know.”
He did want to know, but he could never admit that to her. He kept his head straight and kept walking.
A few days later, Ron was the next to be released from Madam Pomfrey’s care, and unlike Hermione, he did nothing to stop the outrageous stories from spreading. He was loving the attention it brought him, and told everyone what had happened down that trapdoor. The story got back to Draco, because there was no escaping it, but it felt like he was the only person not talking about it. Well, him and Theodore Nott.
By the time Ron got around talking to Draco, cornering him as he left the Great Hall, he seemed to be in disbelief that Draco was still upset with them. His attempt to make Draco get over it was worse than Hermione’s.
“How are you still mad? We stopped Quirrell in the end, everything worked out okay!”
“It worked out okay for you three,” Draco said brusquely, his shoulders practically bunched up to his ears. “However, you could have damaged my Godfather’s reputation! Need I remind you about Sirius? Or my father? Even when proved innocent, that suspicion never goes away. Your lack of responsibility is truly outstanding, Weasley.”
“Oh, so we’re back to last names?” Weasley complained as Draco walked off, shaking his head.
He received his grades with little enthusiasm; he had passed everything, but was only the top of the class in Potions - Harry had apparently taken the spot for DADA, even though the teacher had turned out to be hosting Voldemort inside his head, and Hermione claimed the spots for their other lessons. Draco had marched up to the owlery with his results to send onto his mother, but didn’t bother to write her a proper letter. He was watching his eagle owl, Apollo, fly out through one of the many open windows when he spotted them; scurrying up towards the hill the owlery was built upon. Two blobs, one with bushy hair and one unmistakably ginger. Draco left before they could reach him, going the long way around back to the school.
They had been trying to talk to him for the past two days, even bothering to linger at the Slytherin common room entrance. Theo had told him about it, looking mildly annoyed he had become some sort of messenger. Draco had just shrugged.
He knew what they wanted to tell him - that Harry was awake. But thanks to no one at Hogwarts managing to keep the good news to themselves, he already knew it. And he hated how relieved he felt. Harry didn’t deserve his relief - in fact, Draco was quite ready to not see Potter again for a long time, until he could truly lick his wounds in the safety of the Manor without feeling eyes on him constantly, questioning why he wasn’t down there with the Gryffindor trio, as if he were a coward who ran from the first sense of danger.
If only he had the energy, he would tell them he already tried to set You-Know-Who on fire in the Forbidden Forest, all by himself. He didn’t need friends to have his back; Slytherins could look out for themselves.
It was the last day, and Draco wished he could enjoy the end of year feast, considering that Slytherin had managed to pull through and win the House Cup, but his heart just wasn’t in it. He poked at his food, and was silently grateful that Blaise and Pansy sat with him and just spoke to each other, not expecting him to take part but keeping him in their conversation all the same.
A weird hush fell over the Great Hall, which had Draco glancing up - and wishing he hadn’t. Harry had just entered, looking awkward but only a little beat up. Draco dropped his eyes, feeling his chest tighten as the urge to escape back down to the dungeons came over him. He would have done it, if Dumbledore hadn’t decided to speak then.
“Another year gone!” Dumbledore said cheerfully, as if this whole year hadn’t been awful. “Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding and the points stand thus: Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff with three hundred and fifty two; Ravenclaw have four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”
His table broke out into cheers, with even Snape clapping at the top table. No one else joined in, and Draco managed a feeble clap before taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.
“Yes, yes, well done Slytherin. Though recent events must be taken into consideration.” That had the noise stopping rather abruptly around him. Draco felt himself freeze, and finally looked up at the Headmaster.
“I have a few last minute points to dish out,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. “Let me see, yes… first - to Mr Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years. I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”
Cheers broke out from the Gryffindor table; Draco didn’t even turn his head to look.
“Second - to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.” Dumbledore waited until the cheers died down, before continuing. “Third - to Mr Harry Potter… for pure nerve and outstanding courage. I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”
The cheers were coming from every table except his own, now. Draco didn’t even twitch at the mention of Harry’s name. But it seemed, Dumbledore wasn’t done.
“There are all kinds of courage,” the Headmaster said, smiling. “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr Neville Longbottom.” The cheers took a moment, but then they were just as loud as the one Harry had gotten; probably because Dumbledore’s actions had meant that Slytherin had just lost the House Cup.
“Are you kidding me?” Pansy hissed, a furious look on her face. “Dumbledore just rigged it so we would lose!”
“Excuse me, excuse me…” Dumbledore held up his hand, and silence slowly fell again. “I apologise for keeping you from the rest of our delicious feast, but I have one more student to award.”
“Ugh, who else from Gryffindor?” muttered Pansy, which did have Draco snorting. “Longbottom’s toad, perhaps?”
“I did say it takes all kinds of courage, didn’t I? Which is why I award Mr Draco Malfoy with ten points for Slytherin house.” Draco froze at hearing his name, and felt his face go red when Dumbledore found him in the sea of green. “For your unwavering loyalty to those you care about, and always seeing the best in the people around you, even when your friends cannot. You have shown the best traits of a Slytherin, and I hope to see this echoed throughout all your housemates. And with that…” Dumbledore clapped his hands, causing some of the banners to change to red, while others stayed green. “I believe we can congratulate both Slytherin and Gryffindor, for tying for the House Cup!”
The cheers went up again as Snape and McGonagall shook hands. “Well, at least we tied, thanks for that last minute save, Draco.” Blaise said with a snort, clinking their goblets together. Some of the other Slytherins echoed their thanks, but the undertone was sharp and bitter. Draco understood why; it would have almost been better coming second, rather than sharing with the Gryffindors. After forcing some of the food down his throat and not even tasting it, Draco escaped back to his dormitory before he could be bothered by anyone.
When it was finally time to get on the Hogwarts Express, Draco raced onto the train and found an empty compartment, shooting nasty looks to anyone who peered inside it. Thankfully, the train lurched and began to move on its long journey back to London, and Draco felt himself relax slightly, glad that neither Ron, Hermione or Harry had tried to find him.
He watched as Hogsmeade station began to disappear, ducking his head when he saw Hagrid waving at the train - he really should have gone to say goodbye to him, but even that had felt like too much. Speaking to anyone right now felt like too much. With this in mind, he pulled out some parchment and his quill, and wrote a quick letter.
Mother,
I should have written to you earlier, and I’m sorry for sending this so last minute, but I wanted to ask if we could head straight home from London when you come to collect me. I do not want to hang around with Harry, or Sirius, or anyone else, as I am desperate to get home and just spend time with you. If possible, can we extend our time in France this year and go earlier? I would appreciate the break.
Love always,
Draco
“Sorry for sending you out,” Draco said apologetically to Apollo. “But I figured you would prefer to fly home, anyway. I won’t be expecting any kind of response, so just stay at home once you arrive, alright? I’m sure the house elves will spoil you as soon as they see you.”
Apollo hopped out of his cage and flapped his wings as Draco secured his letter to his leg. He didn’t seem too mad with the change of circumstances, as he would normally give Draco a nip when he wasn’t happy to go out. Draco shimmed open the window and helped Apollo out into the fresh Scottish air. He watched as he took off, wishing he could have someone shrunk himself down and gotten a flight home from him instead.
He was lost in watching Apollo’s shape disappearing into the distance, that he hadn’t realised Harry had found him.
“There you are!” Harry said as he opened the compartment door, making Draco jump, cursing in his head that he had let his guard down. Draco shot Harry a glare, and slammed the window shut. Thankfully, it was just Harry, not the other two. “We waited on the platform to see if we could catch you, but you must have boarded long before us. Hagrid said he hopes you have a nice summer break.”
“Mmhm,” Draco muttered, packing his parchment back into his trunk. He felt so uncomfortable in Harry’s presence, awkward in a way that he hadn’t felt around him in months. Even looking at him hurt.
“... We have a compartment, by the way. It’s just me, Ron and Hermione. You are welcome to join us, so you aren’t sitting the whole journey home alone.”
“Thanks, but I’m quite happy where I am.” Draco said stiffly, looking back out the window.
“Really? We were planning on raiding the snacks from the trolley witch, I know she’s got some of your favourites-”
“Harry, I’m not going to sit with you.” Draco snapped, turning his head sharply to glare at him. Honestly, was he this dense that he didn’t know Draco wanted to be left alone?
“... Then I’ll sit here, then.” Harry said back, his voice stiff. He dared to sit opposite Draco, his arms crossed over his chest. “Because I’ve been trying to talk to you since I woke up, but you’ve been really good at avoiding me. And Pansy and Blaise aren’t being helpful; I ask where you are, and they send me to some random part of the castle, before I find out you’ve been somewhere else the entire time. Did you tell them to do that?”
He didn’t know they had been doing that, actually, but he was pleased they had. “No, but unlike you, they respect me when I say I want to be left alone.”
“You know what? If that’s what you really want, I will leave you alone, after we talk.” Harry said firmly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Why have you been avoiding me? Ron and Hermione came to visit me in the Hospital Wing, even Hagrid, but… but not you. I kept thinking you’d show up.”
“You really have no idea?” Draco asked dryly. “Can you not think of reasons unless Granger and I do it for you? Then again, even if I told you, you’d probably dismiss it and make up your own explanation for my avoidance.”
The cabin fell into silence at that, which Harry only broke once it became too much. “You know I am sorry about everything, don’t you? We should have listened to you and tried to investigate further. Quirrell… he played the role of a nervous Professor so well, acting like his own shadow scared him. Even you didn’t suspect him. I just couldn’t think of anyone other than Snape-”
“I’m over the fact that you picked the wrong Professor,” Draco said through gritted teeth. That wasn’t even a lie - the past week of solitude had helped him get over it. “I am annoyed that you didn’t stick to your promise. You said you would wait for me.”
“Quirrell nearly had the Stone by the time I got to him!” Harry argued, leaning forward. “Any more delays and he may have gotten it - Voldemort may have gotten it! We did the right thing by going through the trapdoor and not waiting for you.” Draco inadvertently flinched at that, so Harry quickly pressed on. “Plus, Ron and Hermione got hurt, which I feel awful for. If it had been you-”
“So what if it had been me?” Draco yelled, feeling his control of his anger snapping.
“Are you mad, Draco?” Harry sat back, tugging at his wild hair in his frustration. “Do you know how important you are?”
“Oh, enlighten me.” Draco snorted, rolling his eyes.
“Fine, I will.” Harry said, irritation in his tone. “Before I even met you, I knew how important you were going to be, because when Sirius came to get me from my aunt and uncle, he couldn’t stop talking about you. ‘He’s a bit of a brat, but I love him. He’ll keep you right, Harry, you won’t have to go to Hogwarts without a friend’. That’s what he said about you, and so I knew that I wanted to make you my friend, but I screwed it up when we were getting our robes because I didn’t realise it was you.”
“Sirius is hopeful that he could take me in, away from my life of living under the stairs… but I was so worried when you and Ron weren’t getting on, that we weren’t getting on, that Sirius would change his mind about me. I even told Ron that, to get him to be nicer, to give me a chance to get to know you.” Harry's voice cracked, and Draco pretended not to hear it. “And we fixed our friendship, and I’m so glad we did, because you have been such a great part of being at Hogwarts, Draco. You always make me laugh, and you aren’t afraid to challenge me, to see past this,” he gestured to his scar. “And then Sirius managed to get me out for Christmas, and I met your family… and I just wanted that. I want to spend every Christmas with you guys, because I’ve never had that, ever.”
“And… I know, I kept things from you, and I was wrong to do that, but I got so scared of hurting you that I ended up doing it anyway. And I’m so sorry about that. But I’ll never be sorry for keeping you out of danger. We all got lucky that we didn’t die down there, and I don’t want to ever put you in a position where I need to just hope you’ll make it out okay.”
“... Do you even listen to yourself? I’m not important,” Draco said, shaking his head and hating the sting of tears he felt in his eyes. “I’m just important in your big plan to get away from your Muggle family. Well don’t worry, I’m sure Sirius will settle down and take you in, away from those nasty Muggles. In fact, I’m sure the rest of my family loved you as well, why not just claim them as your own while you’re at it?”
“Draco, no! Don’t you get it? You’re so important to your family, but to me too! I want you to be one of my best friends again, and I don’t want this to ruin it! We should be celebrating the fact that we stopped Voldemort, together!” Harry looked desperate, now. “We should be making plans to hang out during summer, if I can get away early.”
“Whatever, Scarhead,” Draco sneered, getting to his feet. He turned quickly and wiped his eyes. The nickname was awful, but it took some of the pain out of his chest. “You know, if you had waited for me that night, no one would have gotten hurt, because the teachers would have handled it. Let’s face it, you just don’t trust me or like me as much as Ron and Hermione, even though I’ve tried my best with all three of you. I’ve been called names for hanging out with Hermione, I put up with you keeping secrets this year, I’ve supported you with Quidditch, I… I even gave you Christmas gifts! And for what?” Draco ranted, reaching up to grab his trunk.
Harry watched him without saying a word, but stood up with a sigh when his trunk seemed stuck, and reached up to help him - only to get an elbow to his chest for the trouble. “Ouch! Draco, please, just listen-”
“Don’t bother me again, Potter.” Draco warned as he opened the compartment door. “Stay here if you want, but I don’t want to hear from you again. Don’t visit me during summer, okay? I need a break from you, from all of you.”
And with that, Draco left, dragging his case behind him. He didn’t feel better about arguing with Harry, or leaving things between them unsettled, but he was not in the right mindset to even attempt to be civil with him right now. He was heading down to the restroom that he had hidden in in his first journey on the Hogwarts Express, ready to let the tears fall, but he paused when he heard laughter coming from a busy compartment. Draco paused, swallowed past the lump in his throat, and didn’t give himself a second to overthink.
He slid open the compartment door, trying not to cringe when the noise cut off. Theo looked up at him with his eyebrow raised; he was reading a book, of course, while Greg and Vincent were playing a game of Gobstones. Pansy and Blaise had been making the noise with the other Slytherin girls - Daphne, Millicent and Tracey.
“Can I join you?” Draco asked, relieved when everyone nodded. He settled next to Daphne as his trunk floated to the free space above him.
“Not sitting with your Gryffindors?” questioned Pansy, her tone curious. Draco knew she was dying for gossip.
“They are not my Gryffindors,” Draco snorted, pushing his hair out of his face. “... I actually just called Potter ‘Scarhead’.”
There was a pause, before the Slytherins started to snicker at that - even Theo was smirking, but he had his eyes back into his book. Draco smiled a little, and even joined in with the laughter, feeling his tension leave his body as he did it.
“Tell us about your summer plans,” Daphne said, turning to face him. “You must be up to something exciting, Draco.”
Draco launched into a conversation about his usual plans to return to France, which soon got them all in a big discussion about the different places they had traveled. It took his mind completely off of the situation with Harry, and the journey back to London passed rather quickly. Since that fateful night the Gryffindors had abandoned him, Draco felt like he could breathe.
He wished his fellow Slytherins well as they pulled into the station, knowing he wouldn’t be hearing from them over the summer break, unless they wanted to get in trouble for speaking to the shunned Malfoy family. He was, admittedly, a little sad that this was the most time he had spent with his housemates. Even Theo had put down his book and joined in with their conversation, and it turned out, Draco had a few things in common with him.
Perhaps he should keep that in mind for next year.
He wasn’t the first off, waiting for the crowd to build before hopping down to the platform, his trunk in tow. He spotted his mother instantly - she was dressed in deep greens, her hair a careful wave that was less of the natural Black curls and more of a traditional Pureblood style. He felt a twinge in his chest at the sight of her, and was once again so glad his first year at Hogwarts was done.
“Darling,” his mother greeted him, folding Draco into a hug, her hair falling down and tickling his cheek. “I got your letter,” she murmured to him, “we’ll leave for France at the start of next week. You’ll need to fill me in on what’s been going on - Dumbledore is only telling us what he thinks we want to hear, and Severus has been impossible to get a hold of. Just so you know, Sirius is here, but just to hand over Harry to his Muggle relatives. If you don’t want to be bothered, we should go now.”
He relaxed into her hold, glad that she wasn’t asking questions now, or telling him he had to be nice to Harry and suck it up. And not only that, she was moaning about Dumbledore, which she normally never did in front of him. It was so nice to be in her presence again. He pulled back from her hold to grab his trunk, and felt eyes on him once more. He was starting to know that the way the hairs stood on the back of neck meant it was Harry looking at him. With one hand on his trunk and the other sliding into his mother’s hand, Draco forced himself not to look back.
Stupid feelings. Stupid Potter. At least I won’t see him over summer, since he’ll be back with those Muggles.
If only Draco knew how wrong he’d be.