LinhLotus

The night Harry was released from the hospital wing, he snuck out to sit by the lake. It had been four long days since the quidditch match and he felt like he’d been let out of a terribly small cage. 

Madam Pomfrey had barely let him get up to use the toilet for the past four days without getting in a tizzy. She had stood over him as he forced down his meals and made him drink sleeping draughts every night, giving the nightmares the perfect chance to creep into his mind. He hadn’t woken up screaming again, but he was always drenched and shivering when he resurfaced.

Tonight he was determined to enjoy the cool night air on his face and forget about his stay in the hospital wing. 

Harry pulled off his shoes and dipped his toes in the water, relishing the sharp bite of the cold. 

The frosty grass crackled as someone approached him from behind.

Malfoy sat on the shore next to Harry, shoulders draped in a thick, emerald green cloak.

After a few minutes of silence, the Slytherin decided to speak, his quiet drawl echoing eerily on the surface of the lake. “Are you okay, Potter?”

It was surprising, how soft his voice was, when he wasn’t insulting Harry, how little venom it held. It would be sweet if they hadn’t been enemies since before their first term had even started. 

Despite all the time they had been spending together, Harry still didn’t think he could tell Malfoy the truth. What would he even say? ‘Sorry you feel like that but I don’t really care because we’re not friends.’ No. It was better to lie.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

Why was he asking again? Did he really care or was he trying to find a weakness to exploit?

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well, just . . . If . . . Nevermind.” Malfoy sounded disappointed and, maybe, a little sad? 

That couldn’t be right. It had to be a trick of Harry’s imagination. Malfoy didn’t care about his feelings. He couldn’t. 

------

Draco stepped into Potions and saw Potter sitting in his usual seat pouring over his battered copy of their potions book. He felt Crabbe and Goyle waiting for him to take the lead and antagonize the scrawny half-blood. It had been longer than usual since they’d interacted and the other Slytherins were starting to get suspicious.

The pressure was building to do something and he had to keep up his reputation. He pulled back his shoulders, plastered on his meanest smirk, and marched over to Potter. 

“Still got this ratty old thing?” Draco slipped the book off the table and held it up in the air. 

“Looks like Potter is too broke to buy a new book,” he announced loudly, his heart squeezing painfully when Harry —Potter— looked up at him, resignation in his green eyes.

“Give it here, Malfoy,” he sighed.

He had to push through the guilt and do what was necessary. For himself. For the Malfoy name. 

“No. I think I’ll keep it.”

Draco examined the cover of the falling-apart book. It was stained and fading. He honestly didn’t know why Potter didn’t just buy a new one. He had enough money. Did it have sentimental value? 

He felt another stab of guilt at that thought. He didn’t want Potter’s already very unstable mental health to get worse because Draco stole something dear to him. 

He would just have to make it easy for the Griffindor to snatch it back. Or maybe he could bring it to their meeting place that night if he didn't get it back now.

There was no need, it seemed, as the book was slipped out of his hand from behind. 

“Hey!” 

Draco spun to see that Weasley had reached between Crabbe and Goyle to snatch the book back. 

“You little weasel,” he snarled, lip curling.

“If I remember correctly,” Granger chimed in from next to the redhead, “you are the one Professor Moody turned into a rodent.”

She pulled Weasley around the Slytherins and sat next to Harry.

Draco felt his face heat with embarrassment at the memory of his weakness from a mere two years before. Granger was never going to let him live it down. 

He was saved from finding a snarky retort when Professor Slughorn entered the room and called for the class’s attention.

Thank you so, so much to my fantastic betas Charm and Aprilsonata!!

Draco scanned the sky, eyes catching on a red-robed figure hurtling in his direction. 

Potter was shooting toward him, his face was pale but determined, then, just before they collided, the other seeker’s face went blank and he plummeted.

Draco just watched, chest squeezing in horror, waiting for Potter to hold up the snitch triumphantly, to claim that it was all a show. It soon became clear that was not going to happen, and everyone seemed too shocked to do anything.

Draco took a deep breath and pulled his wand out of his sleeve, keeping it mostly out of sight as he cast a spell to slow Potter’s descent. He couldn’t let anyone see what he was doing. If news got out, the Dark Lord would torture Draco before killing him and everyone even distantly related to him. 

He would not let that happen. 

------

Harry was running through the halls of the ministry of magic, desperately trying to reach his godfather. His footsteps echoed through the abandoned corridors, pushing him to move faster.

He reached the door to the department of mysteries, yanking it open to reveal twelve identical, black doors. Harry entered, and waited for the room to stop spinning . He opened the door directly across from him. When he saw the shelves of crystal balls, he let out a relieved breath and sprinted around the side of the room to a wooden door. Harry’s sides were killing him by this point and he was finding it increasingly hard to breathe but he pushed on.

The chamber he stepped into was dimly lit and the frigid air hit him like a wall. He spotted Sirius and his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, dueling in front of a tall, veiled arch. They were surrounded by stone steps that looked to have been made for giants. Harry began leaping down the steps, pushing himself as much as he was able but, for every step he took, Sirius seemed to get farther away.

Finally, he had to stop and catch his breath and when he looked up, his godfather was clutching his chest and falling through the veil. 

Harry let out a raw scream and pounded his fist on the rough stone beneath him.

The room started filling with thick, grey fog, obscuring the dark-haired death eater and, in a flash, he was in a new room. In front of him in a giant golden birdcage was a translucent Sirius. 

Bellatrix appeared a moment later, a padlock and key in her pale hands. Before Harry knew what was happening, she had locked the cage and swallowed the key. 

He let out another scream of frustration, and lunged at the door, trying to bend the metal enough to free the gaunt man inside.

“It was your fault, Harry,” Sirius growled, making Harry stop what he was doing and look up into his eyes. “You didn’t come fast enough. You didn’t warn me. You let her kill me!” 

“No, I was trying to save you! I knew she had you and I-I was trying to stop her! I was trying to stop her!”

Bellatrix had apparently had enough of being ignored and had chosen this moment to start pelting Harry with stinging hexes. 

Harry yelped in pain and recoiled into the bars where Sirius’s hands were waiting for him. At first, he thought his godfather was going to embrace him but then, the hands that had once felt so comforting were wrapped around his neck and he was being strangled.

Bellatrix giggled madly and cast crucio, sending hot sizzles of pain shooting under his skin. 

Harry’s body convulsed in agony. 

“You did this to me, Harry! You deserve to die!” Sirius screamed.

“No! No! Please!”

“Harry, Harry!” Hermione’s voice broke into his consciousness. “Wake up, Harry!”

He jolted upright, gasping and covered in sweat. His eyes were wide open but he didn’t see anything. He felt Hermione’s hand on his shoulder, pressing him back into the pillows. 

He reached up to rub his neck, finding it mostly unharmed. That couldn’t be said for the rest of his body, though. It ached worse than it had in years.

He forced himself to take deep breaths to slow his racing heart.

‘It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. Only a nightmare.’

When he felt less likely to scream, he opened his eyes.

Everything was out of focus, just blobs of color really, but he made out the forms of eight people crowded around his bed. All of them were wearing scarlet robes except Hermione. The quidditch team, he guessed.

“Where am I?” He croaked.

“The hospital wing.” Ginny’s voice answered from somewhere in the cluster of people. “You fell off your broom. Madam Pomfrey says it’s because of hunger and lack of sleep.”

“How long will I be here?”

“Madam Pomfrey wants to keep you for a few more days. We can bring the work you miss,” Hermione says.

“Fine.” Harry sighed and closed his eyes. “Can I at least have my glasses back?” he was getting a headache from the blurriness of his surroundings. 

“‘Course, mate,” Ron carefully pushed the requested item onto Harry’s face, being careful to secure it behind the ears before pulling his hands away.

Someone walked in their direction and Madam Pomfrey appeared. “I thought I told you to clear out. This boy needs his rest if he’s going to recover and he sure as manticores can’t do that with you lot here causing a ruckus.”

Harry’s teammates shuffled their feet a little before saying their goodbyes.

“We’ll visit you tomorrow, Harry,” Hermione patted his hand gently and backed up. “There’s a stack of books here if you get bored.” She pointed to the bedside table which was piled with thick, dusty tomes. 

“Thanks, ‘Mione,” he attempted a smile but it didn’t feel quite right, “See you tomorrow.”

Thank you to my lovely beta Charm! You're a lifesaver, Darling!

Draco was on prefect duty again that night. It had been a full week since he’d first seen Potter racing through the corridors like he was being chased by a blast-ended skrewt and since then, he had followed his rival around the grounds no less than four times. 

Tonight, Potter made straight for the Forbidden Forest, unbothered by the dull drizzle that had started earlier in the evening. He entered close to the shore of the lake and wound his way through the trees listlessly. 

With every step, Draco was afraid he’d be too loud and Potter would hear him. The ground was littered with discarded sticks and leaves, but at least the trees provided some cover from the rain. Plus, even if he did hear, there was plenty of wildlife in the forest to excuse the noise and he hadn’t even bothered to light his wand, leaving them both shrouded in a blanket of darkness. 

Eventually, Draco realised where they were— the clearing they had seen the Dark Lord in during their first year at Hogwarts.

Draco did not have fond memories of this place. He had run away in terror. He had been a coward. He still shivered at the recollection. 

At least his father hadn’t been there to see it, though. That would have meant no allowance for a month and he would have had to spend most of the ensuing summer in his father’s ‘lessons’.

Draco shook off these thoughts and focused back in on the boy in front of him. What was he thinking? Why had he come here? 

Potter was standing over the spot where they had discovered Professor Quirrel bent over the body of a dead unicorn.

“I know you’re there. You think I haven’t noticed you following me?” he said suddenly, still facing away from Draco, “If you have something to say, just say it.”

His voice was flat. Like all the emotion had been sucked out of him.

Draco walked forward slowly until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Potter and they stood there silently waiting for the sun to rise.

------

Harry was staring at his toast in disgust again when he heard the sound of feathers and saw a parliament of owls swooping into the Great Hall to deliver the student’s mail.

He searched for Hedwig among the crowd and spotted her carrying a large box straight toward him, looking exhausted. When she landed, he relieved her of her load and slid his untouched plate of food toward her. She pecked at it gratefully and when she had finished, he held out his arm so he could take her to the owlrey.

After he’d ensured she had everything she needed, Harry said goodbye and proceeded to his dormitory to open his package. 

Inside were a few dozen neatly packed bottles of the lucidity potion Harry had started receiving every month with a complete set of Fred and George’s signature sweets to get out of class. They had always insisted on sending random extra products when he bought from them. They’d called it a thank you for funding their dream. 

A note taped to the sweets said, ‘For our favorite troublemaker. Use them well.’

Harry picked up a bottle, uncorked it, and swallowed half of it. He then closed the box and slid it under his bed where no one was likely to notice it. As he was standing up, a sudden bout of dizziness assaulted him accompanied by a horrid pounding in his skull.

He sat on his bed, conjuring a simple glass and casting aguamenti to fill it with cool, clean water. When Harry had finished sipping the liquid, he pulled on his red and gold quidditch robes and headed down to the common room to meet the rest of the team. They walked to the quidditch pitch together, Harry lecturing them on strategy the whole way and Alicia shouting out encouragement whenever he paused to take a breath. 

When they got there, the team gathered their equipment and positioned themselves in a circle. Harry and the new Slytherin captain, Lorita Schmidt, shook hands quickly and Lorita muttered a threat under her breath before rejoining the other players.

Madam Hooch explained the rules before throwing the Quaffle into the air and then they were off. 

Harry’s head swirled as he took off but he shook it away and returned his attention to the game.

The first few points went to Gryffindor and their section of the stands went wild. Harry was fairly relaxed in his search for the snitch. It was early in the game and they were doing well so he wasn’t too anxious about their chances. 

Then Slytherin scored their first point and Harry’s euphoria melted away, replaced with a sense of competitiveness that overwhelmed him. He had to get that snitch before Malfoy. He had to prove to everyone that he was okay. That he was strong enough to crush the other team.

He hovered somewhere above the Hufflepuff portion of the stands, craning his neck to get a glimpse of the small golden ball. His head spun again, worse this time, and he felt himself falling sideways off his broom. He quickly readjusted his grip on it and set about looking for the snitch again.

There!

The snitch was flitting anxiously through the air a few meters behind Malfoy. Harry leaned forward, ignoring the pain pulsing through his skull and the harsh wind whipping at his hair as he sped toward the ball that would end the game.

His stomach jolted and, suddenly, everything went dark.

Honestly, I'm surprised at how happy I am with this. I wasn't quite sure how it would turn out but I had lots of help from my friends. Thank you so much, guys!

Harry downed half of one of the last lucidity potion Fred had owled him last month before slipping into bed and closing his eyes. When he finally heard Ron’s snores start up, he pulled the invisibility cloak out from under his pillow and crawled out of his bed. 

He walked down the stairs and through the common room, yanking his father’s old cloak over his head before he got to the fat lady’s portrait. 

Almost out. 

The painting had barely closed when he dashed away through the corridors, trying to remember which hallways to take to the greenhouses. He hadn’t taken a direct route to them from the dormitories since second year when Herbology had been his first class. 

Finally, after having to backtrack a few times, Harry made it out into the cool night air. His father’s cloak was off in seconds and he was pulling his heavy robes over his head, leaving him in an old gray t-shirt and sweatpants. 

He gulped in the misty air and tried to forget about the events of last year, the constant nightmares, his odd connection to Voldemort, Mr. Weasley’s accident, and . . . He sank onto his knees, head in hands. 

‘No.’

He wouldn’t -no he couldn’t- think about it. That was why he was out here, to clear his head. Harry took a moment to breathe before standing and grabbing the cloak and robes he had discarded. 

‘I’ll walk to the lake and then I’ll feel better.’ He promised himself, already striding toward the dark, glassy surface of the water.

------

Draco walked through the corridors, peering around corners for wandering students before moving on to the next hallway. He heard the slap of shoes in the corridor he had just vacated and ducked back just in time for– nothing. No one was there. But the phantom’s footfalls were still scurrying down the hall. 

Then it hit him. Potter. Potter must be using his invisibility cloak.

Draco decided to follow the footsteps wherever they were going. This would give him some action in the monotonous hours of roaming the school that being a prefect required.

Three minutes later, Draco was wishing he had thought to bring a potion for his asthma. He would have to remember to keep a bottle or two on hand from now on. 

Finally, the footsteps slowed enough to open the door to the greenhouses and the form of a messy-haired boy materialised. After discarding his cloak and robes, Harry Potter let out a weak cry, collapsing into the ground and cradling his head in his hands. He was breathing hard from the running but also, Draco thought, from something else. Was he having a panic attack?

He should be happy about this, right? Here was his chance to prove himself to Voldemort. To everyone. Potter couldn’t fight back in this condition, not effectively, anyway. But, though he knew all would be forgiven if he killed or even injured ‘the chosen one’, something felt wrong about attacking someone when they were down, even if that someone was Harry Potter.

So Draco hung back, just silently observing from the doorway until Potter picked himself up and started walking toward the lake. After a moment of consideration, he decided to follow again, creeping through the shadows in the Gryffindor’s wake. 

------

Harry was staring intently at the bacon that had been sitting on his plate untouched for a full twenty minutes. He had yet even to taste it and while he was sure it was delicious, the thought of eating or drinking anything made him physically ill.

Ron and Hermione had materialised on either side of him only a few minutes ago and Ron was already started on his third plate of sausage and eggs. Hermione, on the other hand, was staring at her dark-haired friend with concern pooling in her eyes. 

“Are you alright, Harry,” She asked. “You haven’t been eating much recently and you don’t look like you have slept in weeks.”

“I’m fine,” he replied, very convincingly, he thought, for such a blatant lie. “Just, erm, tired from quidditch practice yesterday.” He tried to smile reassuringly but it felt wrong on his face.

“Okay. Ron and I are here for you, though, you know that? If you ever need anything, just tell us.” Hermione gave him a quick side hug before turning back to her pumpkin juice.

“Okay.”

------

Harry was about to enter his dormitory when he heard Ron and Hermione talking. 

“I’m worried about him. When I came to wake you up, he was already out of bed. He usually doesn’t get out of bed until twenty minutes before class unless I intervene. And did you see him at breakfast? He didn’t touch any of his food,” Hermione said.

“Maybe he ate before we got there?”

“I don’t think so. Plus, even if he did, did you see the circles under his eyes? I thought he got into another fight with Malfoy when I saw him earlier. And he didn’t even have the energy to yell at Malfoy when he messed with Harry’s antidote during potions class. He hasn’t been himself since . . .”

“Sirius, I know. Maybe he just needs time. They were really close, Hermione.”

“I know that!” she snapped. “You think I don’t know that, Ron?” Her voice quavered, “I was there too. I saw the way he lit up whenever he got a letter. But we have to do something. Do you think Madam Pomfrey could help?”

“Maybe. We can go during lunch tomorrow if you want.”

“Alright.”

Harry heard two sets of footsteps make their way toward him and he spun around, leaping down the stairs to the common room so no one would know he’d been eavesdropping. My baby has come to life! Thank you so much to my magnificent beta Alyx for all your help!