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theupsideofyou · 3 months

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Harry stiffled a curse, heading back to the Tower after yet another detention with Umbridge. He cast a Tempus, and groaned, seeing that it was a little past midnight. Now he would have to copy off Hermione's Transfiguration homework again, seeing he was just too exhausted to pick a quill, forget writing down the Laws of Goodness knows what.

He hoped Hermione was asleep. His hand seemed to be bleeding even more than usual, and even though he would have loved to soak his hand in her special dittany , he didn’t want to deal with her rebukes again. He knew that she disapproved of him keeping the true nature of Umbridge’s detentions quiet. She'd been urging him the whole of the past weekend to go to Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, anyone really, but Harry had refused soundly. He didn't want to see the satisfaction on Umbridge’s face that she was getting under his skin. That she was hurting him. He'd be damned before he allowed that to happen.

Besides, what use was it, going to Dumbledore? The man seemed to be pretty determined to ignore him for the entirety of the school year, starting from his Trial back at the Ministry for Magic. Harry didn’t want to bother him either. He must be busy, what with the whole business of Voldemort, and the Ministry being a bunch of idiots.

So Harry would just have to deal with it. It wasn’t anything huge, he had lived with the Dursleys for the past 15 years of his life.

He yawned, rubbing his tired eyes. Honestly, this year was turning out to be the worst ones ever. He was so exhausted and disgruntled with everything that he was even looking forward for the holidays, and that's to say something, because Harry usually preferred his school terms better than the vacation.

But who could blame him? What with the whole business with Voldemort coming back to torment him, the dementor at Privet Drive, Dumbledore ignoring him, the horrible nightmares, Umbridge with her stupid DADA lessons, the damn detentions, his OWLS and that blonde prat -

"Oof! " Harry huffed as he collided with someone, and made a head dive to the floor. "Watch where your going! "

It was unfair, he knew, as he had been the one engrossed in his thoughts to have not seen the dark clad figure, who was also now sprawled on the floor in a very undignified manner.

"I think you should do that. "

Harry froze in the act of standing up. He could identify that snooty, lordly sneer anywhere.

"Malfoy. "

Of everyone he could have bump into after detention, it just had to be Malfoy.

The said boy was now dusting himself off the floor, scowling as he did so. His blond hair was all over the place, and he looked a bit more dishevelled for his impeccable Malfoy appearance. Not to mention, he was also sprawled on the floor, in a very undignified manner.

Malfoy looked up, and seeing Harry’s glaring face, his own scowl deepened.

"Potter. " He sneered at him. "What are you doing here at this time of the night? Not sneaking around, I hope? "

"Malfoy. " Harry bit back with equal venom. "It's none of your business. "

His scowl was replaced by a little smirk. "Language, Potter. I'd like to remind you that I am a prefect. Which means that I, unlike you, can take away some points for your unseemly behaviour. "

Harry glared at him.

His smirk grew. "So tell me, Oh great boy who lived. What are you doing at this ungodly hour? "

"Detention. " Harry said through gritted teeth. "I had detention with Umbridge. "

Harry hadn't thought that his smirk could become any wider. But apparently, it could, and Malfoy actually had the nerve to let out a gloating laugh.

"Ah, yes. Detentions for all the lies you've been spouting this year, am I correct? "

"You know very well if they are lies or not, Malfoy. " Harry grinned, seeing the smirk on Malfoy's face fade.

"Do I, then? " He hissed, a glare adorning his features.

"At least your scumbag of a Death Eater father would. " Harry shot at him. He shouldn't be here, fighting with Malfoy, a distant voice in his head which resembled Hermione was warning at him to shut his big mouth and stop enraging the blond menace, but Harry never did have much self control around Malfoy.

Malfoy's lip was curling in a cruel sneer.

"At least I have parents, Potter. Yours are six feet under. "

Harry saw red.

He growled at the disgusting slimy Slytherin and leapt forward, pulling his wand out of his pocket, not giving a least care that this would very well mean another set of ghastly detentions with the toad like woman. Malfoy had pushed him to the limit today, and insulting his dead parents, he could not tolerate. He wanted to murder the stupid bastard.

Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex seemed a good idea at the moment-

"Potter! What's wrong with your hand?! "

Harry stopped in his tracks, startled, all thoughts of hexes and curses forgotten. He had not expected Malfoy to ask about his hand, much less notice his hand was bleeding.

He spared a glance at his blood dripping hand and winced. Okay, maybe he would've noticed, but Harry never expected him to look so... different. He wasn’t sneering at him, or giving out snide comments at how pathetic he was to injure his hand, on the contrary, Malfoy was staring at him with something akin to..... concern.

"What? " Harry said stupidly.

"Your hand, Potter. " Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Why is it bleeding all over the place? "

"That's - " Harry began to say, before stopping abruptly. "Wait, what? "

"Potter, much as I knew your brain to be nonexistent, this is ridiculous, if you don't have the ability to understand simple sentences. " Malfoy rolled his eyes expressively.

"No! Just... why are you asking about my hand? " Harry garbled.

Malfoy heaved a sigh and lurched forward, and grabbed his hand, making Harry yelp.

He watched as a series of emotions flick in Malfoy's grey eyes, moving from concern, to surprise and anger after discerning the words carved into his skin.

Harry had never seen Malfoy's eyes look so intense. All for an injury that had happened to Harry. Harry bloody Potter, who was Malfoy's worst enemy. Why even was he angry for this? Harry had never been this stupefied in his life.

Then again, nothing about Malfoy ever made much sense, right?

"Bitch. " Malfoy muttered under his breathe and demanded sharply, startling Harry out of his bewilderment. "How long has she been making you do this? "

"Huh? " Harry mumbled, his brain yet to process Malfoy's question.

He rolled his eyes, and muttered, "Probably from the start of this term... no wonder its deep. "

Harry’s jaw dropped at Malfoy's unnatural concern.

"Woah, woah.. " He stuttered. "Malfoy? Are you alright? "

"What? " The said boy snapped, still staring at his hand with a frankly alarming expression.

"..... why.... are you holding my hand...? "

Harry winced when that was the first question that slipped him. That was not a good thing to ask right now. Or any time. He shouldn't be wondering why Draco Malfoy of all people was holding his hand and worrying about him. What next, Voldemort inviting him for a nice chat over a cup of coffee?

So in Harry’s defense, his concern was perfectly acceptable.

Malfoy was worried for Harry.

Malfoy, with his blond hair, not slicked back with gel for a change, and his grey eyes that looked almost silver in this light, was actually cradling Harry’s hand. Tenderly.

Harry shook his head frantically. That made no sense. He must be hallucinating. Did Fred and George give him some weird thing that was making him see weird stuff like this? Were everyone in the common room laughing at how dumb his hallucination was?

Or dreaming. He must have returned to the common room, and he must have fallen asleep while writing Snape's stupid essay about the restorative properties of Merlin knows what. Any moment now he'll wake up, and laugh at himself for seeing such bizarre and stupid dream.

Literally anything made sense in the face of Draco bloody Malfoy expressing an emotion other than anger, and hatred to him.

He glanced at Malfoy's worried (worried! ) face and asked him slowly, in a delibrate voice,

"Malfoy, are you sure if you are all right? "

He yelped when said blonde prat tightened his grip on Harry’s hand. "Ow! What was that for?! "

Malfoy actually had the nerve to smile at him, though the look of worry didn't completely fade from his grey eyes. Which was still baffling Harry. He still couldn't think of any remotely logical reason as to why Draco Malfoy of all people was being worried about the state of his hand.

This didn't seem much like a hallucination, Harry thought, much to his discomfort. And he probably would have woken up by now, had it been a dream.

Perhaps... something had happened to Malfoy? Was he cursed or something? That made even more sense, seeing that Malfoy was the one who was actually acting in a very strange manner. Completely different. Was this someone polyjuiced as Malfoy? Even that made more sense.... whatever this nonsense happening right now did.

Harry pulled himself out of this slump he was falling into when he heard Malfoy sneer at him, and put his hand inside his pocket, pulling out his wand.

"What are you - "

"Relax, Potter, " Malfoy sneered, pointing his wand at Harry's hand.

Harry let out an incredulous laugh. This was getting way more insane by the second.

"You are pointing a wand at my hand, Malfoy, " Harry reasoned with perfect logic. "We've hated each other's guts for the past years, so yeah, sorry if I can't relax, when you point your fucking wand at me. "

Malfoy just rolled his eyes and muttered something, and Harry felt an immense sense of relief wash over his hand. Glancing down, he watched in astonishment as the blood dripping down his arm disappeared. The words carved into his hand were still visible, red and stark, but the painful sting had quite subsided.

Harry studied his now healed hand carefully, and glanced at Malfoy, who looked extremely smug.

Did Malfoy just heal his hand? No, that's not possible. What goddamn reason would Malfoy have to cure his hand? Did he curse his hand with some elaborate Pureblood spell?

But his hand seemed fine. In fact, it felt perfectly okay, now that the pain had been subdued by a great degree. He clenched his hand, smiling in relief as the sharp stab of pain had subsided.

"Wow, that feels great, " Harry exclaimed. He glanced at Malfoy who was still wearing his smug smirk, and gave a small wry nod. "Thanks, Malfoy, "

The blonde boy's smirked deepened. "I couldn't have the Oh great boy who lived bleeding all over the castle. Imagine the stress it would cause poor old Filch, " He gloated.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like I have to believe you did this for the sake of Filch's sanity. No, I think you care about me, " That sounded entirely too bizarre and wrong, but Harry thought he wasn't too faraway from the mark when Malfoy's pale cheeks flushed, and he looked away.

"Don't be ridiculous. Why in the name of Merlin would I care about you? " He snapped, stuffing his wand into his robes.

"Oh, I don't know- why else would you go out of your way to help me?" Harry grinned. It was totally fun, teasing the other boy and making him blush.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Potter. Just don't make it a habit to wander around the halls at midnight, knocking people down. I could have gotten seriously injured, "

Harry snorted. "Forgive me, your Royal Highness. It's okay to get acquainted with the floor once in a while, considering you walk three feet above it, "

"Acquainted? My Potter. That's a big word. Sure you didn't hurt your head, thinking that? " Malfoy smirked.

It was bizarre, them, Malfoy and Harry, actually having a civil conversation that didn't involve them flinging hexes and curses at each other. Ron wouldn't even believe him. He'd accuse Harry of lying. Hermione would believe him, but would seriously send him off for a check up with Pomfrey.

Harry stiffled a yawn, wondering just how late it was. Malfoy noted his yawn and rolled his eyes again.

"Goodness, Potter, cart yourself upto bed, please. Its terribly unattractive to see you yawn like that, " He sneered, but Harry, to his surprise didn't feel annoyed by it. Alright, just a little, but not enough to throw hexes at him.

"Shut up, " He murmured back, but with a lot less heat than earlier.

"Well, you will see the value of my words when you are inevitably even more inattentive at Snape's class tomorrow. " Malfoy smirked. "Maybe you'll land yourself another detention, "

Harry rolled his eyes, and turned to leave, silently acknowledging that Malfoy may have a point. He already had to finish Snape's stupid essay. If he was inattentive at class, and turn in a subpar essay as well, he might be in a lot of hot water. He was leaving when Malfoy called out to him, his voice more uncertain this time.

"You told Dumbledore about Umbridge’s punishment, didn't you? "

Harry whirled around, angered by the mention. It wasn't enough that Hermione was bothering him, now Malfoy as well? He could take care of himself, why did no one get that? Dumbledore had enough on his plate without Harry adding to it.

"There's no need for him to know. I can deal with it, " He snapped at Malfoy who looked taken aback.

"Merlin's beard, Potter! Stop getting so worked up over nothing. I just asked because Blood Quills are forbidden, you know? It's not a simple matter to use it on children. The School Board takes stuff like that seriously, "

Harry frowned at those words. "And you know this because... "

"My Father is a Governor, of course. " Malfoy rolled his eyes. "This school is unsafe anyway, remember that oaf Hagrid's ridiculous bird? "

"I remember you crying like a little baby, all because you couldn't follow simple instructions. " Harry taunted. "Buckbeak was a good Hippogriff, I rode him, remember? "

"Yeah, yeah, Saint Potter, capable of every miraculous feat possible, " Malfoy sneered. "But this place is a deathtrap, don't even refuse, "

Harry would have liked to refuse, but remembering Aragog, Hagrid's monstrous spider, and even the Basilisk, he just scowled. Malfoy did have a point. He turned around to leave when Malfoy called out again.

"Potter, do consider telling at least McGonagall. She's always on your stupid side, so she'll listen. And like I said, Blood Quills are forbidden. "

Harry looked at him shrewdly. Was this Malfoy's way of looking out for him? Something in Harry told him that Malfoy was genuinely trying to help him, like how he had healed Harry’s hand. Was he even telling Hadey a way to get Umbridge out of Hogwarts? Perhaps it wasn't such a terrible idea to go to McGonagall.

He just smiled at the blonde prat, liking how his cheeks flushed again.

"Good night, Malfoy, " Harry said instead of an answer.

Malfoy smiled at him. He actually smiled, instead of that stupid smirk. Harry found out that it was unexpectedly nice to see his pointy features soften by a mundane smile.

"Good night, Potter, "

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Wrote this on ao3, but posted here too :)) Forgot how much I love Drarry to be honest :)

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