Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Calm Before War ( Chapter 21 )

Part 21

Obnoxious elf voices woke him up. Draco squeezed his eyes tight and buried his head deeper into his pillow, but the voices only grew louder. With a grumble, he admitted to himself that he wasn't going to fall back to sleep, but he didn't move from the warm blankets, not even when he smelled something good and cooked nearby. The elf voices disappeared with an abrupt popping sound.

"I know you're awake," Harry said from somewhere in the darkness. "It's time to eat."

Draco didn't answer except to breathe deep.

"Nice try," Harry said. This time he sounded closer. "But you fidget in your sleep. You're lying too still now."

"'m not awake," Draco mumbled.

A hand gently smoothed back his hair and stroked his cheek. "You need to eat. I don't want my Malfoy wasting away now that I finally have him."

"Sweet words won't make me get up," Draco said, but he couldn't hide his smile. The words made him feel warm inside.

"How about fresh apple pastries?" Harry was only inches away, whispering in his ear. "Right out of the oven?"

"Dessert for breakfast?"

"Only if you wake up."

Draco groaned, but his stomach growled and he really did feel like eating something. He pushed himself up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he watched Harry pile the pillows together at the head of bed.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled.

"You were pretty sick yesterday," Harry said. "You shouldn't move around too much."

"So I get breakfast in bed?" Draco guessed, lying back down on the pillows. He found he was comfortably propped up and only needed to move one particularly lumpy pillow. The cool air tingled on his skin, but before he could complain, Harry tossed another blanket around his shoulders to keep him warm.

"I could get used to this," Draco smiled.

His smile faded as Harry put a tray of something that was not apple pastries on his lap. He picked up a spoon and poked at the bowl, stirring up strange bits of meat and vegetables.

"Soup?" he said. "Harry--"

"Pastries after you finish," Harry said firmly. "And don't look at me like that. Snape said you had to eat it first."

"Figures." He grimaced when he found bits of celery floating around and began the painstaking task of picking out every single one.

Harry sat down beside him and watched in bemusement. "That's not a potion, is it? It's plain old chicken soup."

"Severus adds things to it, but yes."

"That's kind of weird."

Draco spared him a glance between two disgustingly large pieces of celery. "Why?"

"I know I don't know much about the wizarding world, but I don't think I've ever had chicken soup when I was sick. Don't remember anyone else getting any, either." Harry gave him a look. "I thought it was a muggle thing."

Pausing with his spoon in the air, Draco hesitated as his mind raced. Neither Snape nor his parents had ever said anything otherwise, but he'd noticed little quirks that his master occasionally slipped into when he relaxed every so slightly. Living so close to Severus, it was impossible not to notice them after a few years. A muggle phrase, muggle cooking, even just a keen awareness of muggle fashion and history, and most of all, his habit of excusing himself from the conversation whenever muggles came up. While nearly every other wizard tried to hide a lack of knowledge, Draco suspected that Severus was hiding an abundance of knowledge.

But whatever he suspected, that was not his secret to tell.

"Severus said that some recipes fall in and out of favor," Draco said carefully. "Especially after certain restorative draughts were created. But sometimes you need something that will help a patient without interacting with the other charms or potions. Muggles just picked up on some of what we use."

"And it's just coincidence that no other wizard ever uses chicken soup?"

Usually he didn't have to come up with his lies on the spur of the moment. He shrugged once.

"You're not telling me everything," Harry said.

Draco met his eyes. To his surprise, Harry didn't look angry, just hurt. Which made Draco feel like he was doing something bad.

"I can't tell you everything," he said, looking away again. "For the simple reason that I'm not told everything. Besides, you wouldn't go around spilling any of the Weasel's secrets, would you?"

"Ron doesn't have secrets," Harry said.

"His father conducting illegal experiments on muggle artifacts wasn't a secret?" He laughed. "They all lie as much as we do. They're just more self-righteous about it."

Harry didn't answer. He still hadn't answered when Draco finished his soup and desert, and Draco found that the apple pastries didn't taste as sweet without Harry's voice, without his touch. He look at him hoping Harry might say something. Instead the Gryffindor wasn't even looking at him, absorbed with patterns in the floor.

"Do you regret loving me?" Draco suddenly asked.

Ruefully smiling, Harry glanced at him and raised his hand, touching Draco's face.

"No," he answered, tracing Draco's lips. "But you make it hard sometimes."

"I can't change what I am," he said. "I won't change what I am."

"I know." He let his hand drop and sighed. "Neither can I."

If that wasn't regret, Draco didn't want to know what was. He pushed his plate aside and beckoned Harry closer. "Sit next to me," he murmured.

He was already close, but Harry scooted closer. Draco reached out and took his right hand, holding it between his own. Although he was the one under the blankets, Harry's skin felt much warmer. But when Harry's other hand rose to cup his face, he flinched.

"I won't hurt you," Harry whispered.

"I know." Draco tried to sound confident, but he was still more used to Harry's anger than his kindness.

Harry sighed as he stroked Draco's cheek. "I knew you were pushing yourself, but up close, it's obvious you've lost a lot of weight. And you were already scrawny to begin with."

"Was not," Draco said.

"Yes, you were," Harry said. His thumb dipped along Draco's cheekbone, then curled around his eye. "You're almost gaunt and there are circles under your eyes. If you keep this up, you're going to turn into a skeleton."

Draco turned slightly and rested his head on Harry's hand. "I have responsibilities."

"Like what?"

"Dumbledore's potions. Sev' and I've been working on them nearly every day." In truth, the potions themselves were not difficult to create, but waking up before dawn to make them meant little rest when he was already tired. "Keeping my Slytherins safe. Staying between them and the rest of the school. Quidditch. And the teachers all wanting demonstrations in their classes."

"Well, you won't be doing any more demonstrations," Harry said firmly.

"Who says you get to decide?" Draco asked with a sad smile.

"You're mine. I have to take care of you, since you don't seem very good at doing that yourself."

Draco blinked. He knew that Harry loved him. The Gryffindor had certainly said it often enough, but this protective streak was unexpected.

"You can't protect me from everything," he whispered.

"I can try."

"Your friends--"

"Won't do anything if they're my friends."

"But they will," Draco said. It was inevitable. The good and peace loving light wizards would try to hurt them. They always did.

"Then I'll stop them," Harry said simply, as if saying it was the same as doing it.

Draco almost smiled. Maybe for Harry, saying and doing really were the same.

They both heard a several footsteps and furtive whispers coming towards the door before someone knocked softly. Harry started to reach for his wand but Draco touched his hand, stilling him.

"It's all right," Draco said. "They've come to check on me, that's all."

"Who?"

"My friends. Go let them in, will you?"

Harry glanced mistrustfully at the door. "Are you sure they won't do anything?"

"Not unless I tell them to."

Not looking at all reassured, Harry opened the door and found Pansy and Theo glaring at him like miniature Death Eaters. Pansy pushed by him and rushed to Draco's side, sitting next to him and tugging the blankets higher against his chest.

"Look at you," she said, "sitting up when it's so cold. You look like you're about to collapse and you're not even standing. Did that brute hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Draco lied. "Just need some rest. And no, he didn't hurt me."

"You may not remember," she said, "but I saw Snape carrying you. He never carries anyone."

"And you didn't look like you were even conscious," Theo added.

"I was," Draco said. "Mostly."

"Draco..."

"There was a bit of a misunderstanding--" he started.

Normally Slytherins didn't snarl, but Draco thought Pansy was getting close. "I knew it!" she said. "He did hurt you!"

Before she could grab her wand, however, Draco sat straight and grabbed her hands, holding her still. She was about to argue until she saw the look in his eyes.

"Pansy," he said softly. "You're my friend. But you will simply have to trust me on this, because if anybody hurts Harry, I will personally tear them to pieces. Do you understand?"

She stared at him for a moment. "You're in love with him," she whispered.

"Yes."

Silence. They both knew the implications of such a deceptively simple statement.

Near the door, Theo stood upright. "Draco, if this gets out--"

"Chaos, death threats, and possibly being shunned from our community," Draco said. He shrugged once. "I was facing that already anyway, and Harry doesn't have the sense to care, either."

Theo grimaced but he didn't argue. Pansy stared at Harry for a moment before looking back at Draco.

"Does anyone else know?" she asked.

"Pomfrey," Draco said. "And Severus, of course. No doubt Dumbledore knows by now."

"I don't think anyone heard Potter yelling except us," she said. "And I know none of the children have spoken with anyone. I've kept them in since yesterday."

"Still," Theo said. "The Gryffindors are probably wondering where Potter is. If they don't hear from him soon, especially if it gets out that you're together, there could be real trouble."

"The whole school could turn against us," Pansy whispered.

"Gryffindor won't," Harry said, growling when they all scoffed. "I don't care if you don't believe me. They're my friends--"

"And they're our enemies," Draco snapped.

"They don't have to be," Harry said. "They accepted you--"

"That was before I stole their savior!"

"Let me talk to them," Harry insisted. "Before the news gets out, before the rumors start. If I can talk to Ron and Hermione, get them on my side--"

"No!" Draco cried. Just how stupid could Harry be? "They'd just hurt you and--ow!"

He clasped his hands over his head, wincing as a sharp stab went through his head just behind his right eye, traveling along the same path that Harry had burned into him. Pansy tried to hold him, but he shrugged her off and instead reached out towards Harry.

As if afraid he would break, Harry came within reach and held him lightly. Well, that simply wasn't enough, Draco decided, and threw his arms around him, holding as tight as he could and resting his head on his shoulder. Harry was warm, Harry was right here in his arms and if he left, Draco knew everything would turn cold and empty.

"You mustn't," he mumbled. "Don't talk to Gryffindor, don't leave Slytherin, don't even leave this room. You have to stay. I can't bear it if you don't stay."

"I know you're scared," Harry murmured. "But--"

"Everyone laughs at me for being a coward," Draco continued as if Harry hadn't said anything. "But I'm still alive. In this war, the brave keep dropping dead."

"He's got a point," Theo said. "If you're outside when everyone finds out, no matter what you think, they may not kill you but they'll stop you somehow. Even if it means locking you up until they've killed Draco."

"Might even make you watch," Pansy said. "That's how my great great uncle Thislen died, cut apart in front of his betrothed."

"No one'll get hurt," Harry said.

"Because you won't leave the dungeon," Draco said, leaning back to look him in the eye. "Please, Harry, promise me you won't leave. Please?"

A long moment passed, but finally Harry heaved a sigh and nodded once. "Fine," he said. "I'll stay inside."

Draco smiled and leaned against him again. Perhaps they could simply hole up and hide for the rest of the year. His headache eased but didn't go away, throbbing softly in the right side of his brain.

"But if I could talk to Ron and Hermione, bring them down here and just talk--"

Damn it! Draco groaned and held him tighter. Before he could argue, though, Theo spoke up again.

"You said Gryffindor was the house that accepted you first, right? Maybe Weasley won't listen, but that friend of his, Granger, she might listen. She's so bloody ignorant she might not attack the moment she sees you."

"She's not ignorant," Harry said. "She's the smartest person in this school."

"He said ignorant, not stupid," Pansy said. "And she barely knows anything about us. All she knows comes from books that're only half true."

"Then talk to her," Harry said, nearly at the end of his patience. "If I ask her to, she'll listen, and once Hermione convinces Ron, she'll have the whole house convinced."

They all looked at Draco, who closed his eyes and tried to hide against Harry's throat.

"It's worth a try," Theo said. "At the very least, we could get some allies."

"Harry's not leaving," Draco whispered.

"Then they can come here. I'll send a few of the older Slytheirns," Theo said. "Blaise for sure, and Vincent and Greg for backup."

"Send Daphne and Zepha, too," Pansy said. "And Millicent, she can hold her own in a fight."

Draco started laughing. "And what will they say? Please come visit us in the dungeon full of dark wizards? Promise we won't eat you?"

"I'll write them a note," Harry said. "They'll come, trust me."

Trust him? After everything he'd done? True, Draco thought, Harry wasn't the one who'd tried to use a love charm but just because the Gryffindor was more blunt didn't make his violation any better. He shook his head.

Sighing in exasperation, Theo stepped closer and leaned over them. "Draco, we need allies. It's better if they find out from Harry than the Prophet."

I should never have come out to the school, Draco realized. Should never have even come here, just stopped long enough to rest and kept on going. Everything was so simple those first couple of days, fly away and kill when he had to. Now he felt too worn out to play such dangerous political games. It would be so easy to let his Slytherins make the decisions now.

But if he was honest with himself, he knew none of them could do it as well as he could. Politics had always been a Malfoy game. Theo was too obvious, Pansy too overbearing and Blaise was simply too honest in his own way. Groaning as he moved back, he kept a firm grip on Harry's hands and refused to let go.

"Not today," he whispered. "Tomorrow. Or maybe the day after--"

"Tomorrow," Pansy said firmly. "Early, before classes. Before it gets out."

"Dumbledore kept Draco's darkness and two dragons a secret for awhile," Harry said. "We have at least a few days."

"Don't expect those days," Pansy said. "You'll just set yourself up for a nasty shock."

"Right," Theo said. "Tomorrow then. Write your note and get some rest. We'll wake you up before we go."

Once they had left, Draco lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes. How was it that staying alive felt like running a losing race? The simple matter of "us against Voldemort" had turned into "us against Voldemort, if you don't kill us before the fight."

Jostling the bed slightly, Harry climbed beside him and lay down, throwing an arm over Draco's body. As warm and comforting as that was, Draco wondered if Harry was always this physical, as if he wanted to be as close as possible. Now that he was allowed to touch Draco, he seemed to want to contact all the time.

"You should come under the blankets," Draco whispered. "Keep me warm."

"Are you sure?" Harry said. "Someone might walk in."

"Not unless they have a damn good reason. Come on, it's cold in here."

"It's not that bad," Harry argued, but he eased under the blankets and pulled them up over their bodies. "Or does being half wyvern make you more sensitive?"

"Don't know," Draco said. "Sit up a little more, would you?"

Confused, Harry scooted up a few more inches on the pillows. Once he was in the right place, Draco yawned and pillowed his head on Harry's shoulder.

"There," he said, smiling and nestling into a comfortable position. "Now don't move."

With a snort, Harry put his arm around Draco's shoulders and tugged him close. "You're just like Crookshanks."

"Who?"

"Hermione's cat. Sometimes he'll jump on top of us and refuse to move again, like he owns us."

His headache nearly gone, Draco smiled. "Well, betrothal's almost as good as ownership, so I guess you're mine."

Harry glanced at him, nuzzling his hair as he thought that over. "Pansy mentioned that, too. Betrothal. What is it?"

Rising up on one arm, Draco blinked sleepily as he looked into Harry's eyes. "I know you haven't learned much about us, but even you must know what betrothal is."

"Is it like getting engaged? Or promising to get married?"

"Exactly." A little relieved, Draco lay down again. "Actually, that's a better way of saying it than engagement. Good little wizards get engaged. We don't."

"What's the difference?"

"For one thing, they can break an engagement. And just listen to it. An engagement. Sounds so fleeting. You can have a dinner engagement, an afternoon engagement. A moment and it's done with."

"That's not--you're twisting the words around."

"Hardly." He shifted further onto his side, yawning and closing his eyes. "I admit, they can break up so often because they have the luxury of living for such a long time. When you're lucky to survive past twenty, betrothal's sometimes as far as you make it."

He yawned again. His body must've been catching up on lost time because he didn't think he could stay awake much longer. Content to rest against Harry, he didn't pay much attention to his Gryffindor's hand until it strayed down his right arm and around his long injured palm, rubbing soft circles over his scar. Draco moaned as the heat soothed cramps and aches he hadn't even realized were there, so used to ignoring them now.

"Where'd you learn that?" Draco mumbled.

"My wand hand used to get sore during defense practice. Oliver once showed me how to get rid of muscle cramps, so I just did the same for my hand."

Draco didn't think he liked the idea of someone else touching Harry. He mumbled something else, he wasn't sure what, but his murmurs seemed to make the boy beside him happy. Comfortably nestled against Harry's body and satisfied that, at least for now, he was safe, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke up, he had no idea of how long he'd been out. Night in the dungeons was the same as day, and he didn't hear anything unusual outside, only the low voices of Slytherins teaching each other so they wouldn't fall behind. Harry still lay beside him, snoring slightly as he shifted in his sleep.

He shivered. Somehow the blankets had slipped down to his waist, and the chill bit into his skin. As he reached down and grabbed the blanket's edge, something beside him rustled against the nightstand. Taken by surprise, he turned too fast to grab his wand and gave himself another headache, grimacing and putting his cold hand against his forehead.

"Calm down," Severus whispered. "You know you're safe here."

"Could've said something," Draco grumbled.

"I figured you would wake on your own," Severus said. "Drink this."

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Draco wrapped his hands around a container that seemed more like a vase than a glass. Bubbles churned a thick white cream with black flecks that he recognized as burned crow eyes. Not many recipes called for that, so he guessed that he was drinking yet another restorative draught.

"All of it?" he asked.

"As much as you can stand," Severus said. "The rest can be chilled and taken later."

Draco nodded and took several gulps. "Does everyone know yet?"

"No. You've only been asleep for a few hours. Pansy told me of your plan to try and bring Gryffindor to your side."

"Reckless and stupid?" Draco asked.

"Yes, but you seem to make that work for you," Severus said without a hint of humor. "I told her to wait until the day after tomorrow. While I agree that haste is necessary, I see no reason to let them see you so weak."

"Fine by me." He took another long swallow, then abruptly stopped and swallowed quickly before a coughing fit took him.

"That's enough for now," Snape said, taking the potion away and giving him a glass of water instead. "I'll leave it here with instructions."

"I know how to take that potion," Draco muttered. Although he was used to his master's insults, Snape rarely insulted his potion skills.

"Instructions for Potter," Snape clarified. "I assume he'll be the one to wake you up so you may take it."

"...oh." He gathered the blankets in one hand, torn between trying to hide the fact that he was lying next to Harry and feeling how stupidly useless the gesture would be. While he knew that Severus grudgingly accepted his decision, Draco still felt self-conscious being seen with someone in his bed.

"So," Severus said after a moment. "Potter."

"I'm afraid so."

"Tch. You obviously didn't inherit your father's taste."

Draco smiled indulgently. Snape could bark insults at him all day. He had what he wanted, after all.

"Have you cast the betrothal spell yet?" Severus asked. "If not, there's still time to change your mind."

"No, I haven't," Draco said, "but no, I won't."

"Why haven't you?" Snape demanded. "It isn't as if the spell is difficult. No doubt you could manage it now if you wanted. Or are you afraid he'll refuse?"

"I'm not afraid of that," Draco snapped. "I just haven't explained it to him yet. Been a little busy having my brain torn into."

"I see," Snape said, sounding like he didn't consider that a good excuse. "Then I trust you won't overexert yourself before then? Your father would have my hide if he knew I permitted you to share a bed before you were formally bound."

Doubly glad for the candlelight, Draco turned his face away to conceal how his face warmed up. Snape's tone left no doubt as to what kind of overexertion he thought his apprentice might indulge in. "Of course not. I'm not an animal that can't control itself."

"You're a young man," Snape said. "That's close enough."

"You're worried about his honor," came a sleepy voice, "while there's a war on? You dark wizards have strange priorities."

Snape glared down at Harry, who hadn't even opened his eyes when he spoke. "I'm not surprised you wouldn't care about that, considering how you've already forced yourself on him once."

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows, almost snarling. That he had to squint without his glasses made him no less threatening. "You self-righteous bastard. You may see nothing wrong with manipulating people, but I have to know who I can trust."

"Your ignorance deeply scarred Draco's mind," Snape hissed. "Because you didn't know the difference between real magic and a child's toy."

"Neither did Draco," Harry snapped.

As their voices steadily rose with their argument until they were yelling, Draco winced and put his hands over his ears. His head already hurt, and their ranting only made the pain worse. When neither of them showed any signs of stopping, he decided that since they were treating him like a child, he night as well act like one, turning his back on Severus and forcing Harry to lay down so he rest on top of him. Getting Harry to lay still wasn't easy when he was angry, but within a few seconds Draco comfortably settled on his shoulder.

Immediately the argument stopped as each of them stopped midsentence in surprise. A moment later, Draco felt the blanket being pulled up and the candle was blown out. He didn't know which of them did what, but a second later he heard the door close again and he didn't care. He half-smiled and yawned, brushing a soft kiss on Harry's throat.

"You manipulative little thing," Harry whispered, but his voice held a smile.

As he drifted to sleep, Draco wondered if he mumbled a reply.

He'd only just closed his eyes when someone shook his shoulder. He winced and burrowed his head into the pillow as the shaking grew more insistent. "Go 'way," he muttered.

"It's time to get up," Harry said.

Had his Gryffindor's voice ever sounded so obnoxiously insistent? Draco turned on his side and yelped when Harry dragged the blanket off of him.

"What are you doing?" he whined. "You're supposed to let me sleep."

"You slept all of yesterday," Harry said. "I don't think you were really awake when I gave you your medicine."

"What?" Draco muffled a yawn and did his best to grasp what Harry was saying. "I wasn't asleep yesterday."

"Yes, you were," Harry said. "And you hogged the covers the whole time. Now get up. Nott came by a few minutes ago. They're about to go get Ron and Hermione. If we're lucky, we'll have time for a quick shower before they come back."

A day passed already? But he'd only shut his eyes for a moment. He pushed himself up on his knees and groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"Should've made it two days," he said to himself.

"Come on," Harry said. He put his arm around Draco and helped him off the bed. "You'll feel better when you've showered."

Draco didn't believe it, but he grabbed a clean set of robes from his trunk and followed Harry out, pouting the whole way. Hot water did nothing to improve his mood and by the time he was fully dressed with his hair smoothed back, he wanted nothing more than to ease back into his warm bed and pretend the world didn't exist. Steam made the shower room warm and soothing, and Harry wasn't finished yet, so he leaned against the stall and drowsed.

Listening the water cascade over Harry's body, splashing around his feet, hidden only by a thin curtain made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Once they were betrothed, pre-marital relations would be frowned upon but not completely condemned, as long as they were discreet.

As his head drooped, he spotted Harry's glasses on top of his robes. Hoping Harry wouldn't finish up just yet, he bent and picked up the glasses, unfolding them and holding them up to his face. Through the lenses, the sharp lines of the shower stalls turned blurry. The closer he brought them to his eyes, the blurrier the room became. Finally he eased them on his face, setting them gently on his nose for fear that they would snap. The black frames made him feel like he was looking through tiny windows.

"How on earth does he stand looking through these?" he wondered.

The curtain pulled back and Harry poked his head out, a surprised smile spreading over his face when he saw Draco.

"Going near-sighted?"

"Don't these bother you?" Draco asked. "It's like wearing a box."

"I got used to it," Harry said. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower with a towel around his waist. With a damp finger, he traced the fair skin around the glasses. "They're a little big on you."

"Is that why they feel like they're going to fall?" Draco didn't wait for an answer but took them off and carefully put them on Harry. "Why didn't you ever get your eyes healed?"

"They can't do it," Harry said, adjusting the glasses until they sat right. "Something about how they're not really injured."

Draco slowly smiled. "Want to give dark magic a chance?"

"I don't know," Harry frowned. "I can see fine with these. I don't want to risk my sight."

"Oh, no risk at all," Draco's smile broadened. "We can test it out on plenty of muggles first to make sure it's safe."

"Draco..."

Saying he was joking would've been half a lie, so Draco offered no apologies. "Get dressed, our esteemed guests will be here any minute. Unless you want to surprise them, of course. Want to change robes? I'd love to see Weasley's face if he saw you with a Slytherin badge."

"We're trying to keep them from attacking you, remember?" Harry dressed quickly in his scourgified clothes, double-checking the badge to make sure Draco hadn't played a trick on him. "Promise me you won't deliberately make them mad."

"I should ask you to keep Weasley civil," Draco said. "Besides, they're the ones who always resort to violence."

As they arrived at the common room, Draco was struck by the lack of voices. Usually his Slytherins were noisy and talkative, but today only a handful of older students sat near the back of the room. Draco had no doubt that the rest of them were nearby in the various bedrooms, keeping a safe eye on the younger children.

They sat down on the couch facing the entrance and waited. Staring at the door made Draco feel vulnerable and he didn't know why until he noticed that all the other couches and tables were arranged neatly where they belonged. For the first time in months, he had no physical barricade between him and the door.

"Harry," he whispered, turning to face him. "If Weasley or Granger do try to hurt me, you'll stop them, right?"

"They won't try to hit you," Harry promised.

"But if they do try?" Draco insisted. "They've hit me before. They're absolutely uncivilized sometimes."

"They hit you after you insulted them," Harry said.

"And they never insulted me?"

"You want me to list everything you've done to us?" Harry asked.

Draco thought he'd be getting that list from Harry's friends soon enough, but the Gryffindor gave him no time to reply.

"Plus there's your hexes and --"

"Exactly," Draco said, taking back the conversation. "Hexes. Spells. Magic. Those two act like common muggles."

Harry gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. I promise in the unlikely event that they try to hit you, I will stop them."

"Or hex me?"

"You want me to hex you?"

"No! I mean if they try to hex me."

"But they'd be acting like proper wizards, then, right? So that's okay."

"Harry..." Draco didn't care that he was whining. Everyone in Slytherin knew that he whined or pouted in the rare instance that he didn't get his way, and whining usually got his way for him.

"Draco," Harry said in a firm voice. "You'll be fine. I promise."

He had to be satisfied with that because the door started to open. Taking Harry's left hand in his own left so that their wand hands would be free if Harry was wrong, he steadied his shoulders and took a deep breath. For some reason, the squeeze Harry gave his hand steadied his nerves even more.

TBC...